Her Perfect Family(25)

Is it excitement? Or is it a warning? A signal that putting himself in the firing line one more time might just be pushing his luck too far.





CHAPTER 14


THE MOTHER


I glance across Gemma’s bed at Ed. He’s pretending to read his book but hasn’t turned a page in ages. He arrived late this morning and looks tired. Snappy too.

Look – things just took longer than I thought, Rachel. It’s not easy you know, juggling everything.

I don’t rise to it. Does Ed really think Gemma wants to hear conflict? But it feels awkward sitting in silence today, both of us pretending to read. I know from his expression that there’s something very wrong.

Beyond the obvious, I mean.

For myself, I keep daydreaming; thinking about that little moment with DI Sanders and how I wanted to tell her about the odd woman who turned up not once, not twice, but three times this past month. I can’t honestly believe that some strange woman is going to have anything to do with all of this but I still feel guilty for not mentioning it. The problem is my mind goes round and round in circles. If I tell the police about the woman, I will have to tell them what I did afterwards about it and I don’t want Ed to find out.

I look across at my husband again. Make no mistake, Ed is a good man and a good father. I love him very much and I would say that we have a good marriage, but what is it really – a good marriage? Is it strong enough to survive what’s happening to Gemma? Is it strong enough to survive what I did over that stupid woman?

Is it strong enough to survive the fact that I don’t always tell the truth? Can’t. Won’t.

Certainly there’s sometimes this odd space between Ed and me which I can’t quite explain. When we first met, he said he’d been hurt badly in the past but he wouldn’t talk about it. Boy – if anyone can understand not wanting to talk about something from the past, it’s me. I didn’t push him and he didn’t push me. I just assumed it was classic commitment phobia. A guy making excuses. He lived in Canada for a bit and said a business venture had gone pear-shaped there; he didn’t like to talk about it because it made him feel a failure. He wanted a clean slate. A fresh start.

I remember feeling this extraordinary bubble of hope because that was exactly what I wanted too. A clean slate. A fresh start . . .

It was as if we were made for each other. Anyway, I was wrong about the commitment phobia because he’s the loveliest and most loyal of men. We did get married, we made a good life and, most of the time, we’re very happy together.

But every now and again, when I ask the wrong question – especially about the past – he gets like this. Defensive, wearing an expression that is warning me off. No. It’s worse than a warning. It’s like it’s not my Ed at all.

And I know it’s completely hypocritical of me to push, given that I hate people doing that to me, but this is different. This is about Gemma.

‘Is there something wrong, Ed? Something beyond this, I mean.’ I glance at Gemma in the bed. ‘Something we need to talk about. Outside?’ I signal to the door but he doesn’t answer. Just looks at the floor.

OK. So here’s the truth. After I caught that really odd woman staring at me through the kitchen window, I had this flutter of suspicion that maybe Ed was having an affair. That maybe he had had enough of me flouncing off to the kitchen whenever we had a little upset; that the woman was his mistress and was checking me out. I tried to tell myself not to be so stupid but the whole thing got worse. This suspicion grew and grew because I caught her watching me on two more occasions. The second time was at the hairdresser’s about a week later. I had a head full of foil for my highlights so couldn’t go out on to the street to confront her, but it was definitely the same woman and she was watching me specifically through the window again. And the third and final time, I was just out in town window-shopping. I fancied a new coat in the sales and was just strolling from shop to shop when I caught her reflection in one of the windows. She was standing behind me, just staring again.

This time I’d had enough so I called out to her. Who are you? And why are you following me? She stepped forward then and leaned towards me to say something really odd.

He’s not who he says he is. I have to warn you. He’s not who he says he is.

So here’s the embarrassing confession. After that, I completely freaked out. There was no way I was having this out with Ed directly – he’d only lie – so instead I hired a private investigator to see if Ed was having an affair with her. The thing is, I started asking Ed where he’d been and what he’d been doing and if everything was alright with the marriage. If he would ever lie to me. He got quite defensive – and I read in a magazine that can be a sign of infidelity.

My suspicions just sort of spiralled and I found the PI online. I’m ashamed now because the private investigator charged quite a lot of money but found absolutely nothing. You have a faithful husband, Mrs Hartley.

‘Our daughter has been shot and you want to start this all up again? Questioning me? Navel contemplating? Picking at the marriage?’ He’s whispering, still looking at the floor.

‘No, Ed. I just feel a bit guilty that I find it hard . . .’ I pause. ‘Well, you know. That I find it so hard to talk about difficult stuff. But we need to be there for each other.’

‘I am here for you.’