My Husband's Wife(100)

Carla


Every other weekend, for some months now, Carla and Ed had gone down to Devon to see Tom. At first she had been nervous. What if the boy refused to talk to her? She genuinely felt something for him: an understanding between two people who had never fitted in. But when Ed had picked him up from the house – they’d decided it was better if she stayed in the car while he did this – he had come running up to her all gangly-legged and toothy with excitement. ‘Carla,’ he had said, nodding. ‘You are here.’

She wouldn’t allow herself to think of Lily, who must be waiting inside. A mother forced to give up her son to another woman for the day. Lily deserved it, Carla told herself. She had neglected Tom so that she could follow her career. She had neglected her husband too. It was the only way Carla could cope with that little nagging voice in her head. The voice that had been reflected in the letter from her mother.

‘I hope you know what you are doing, my sweet,’ her mother had written. ‘Looking back, I regret the pain I caused Larry’s wife. Be very careful.’

And then, one Saturday morning when she and Ed had been lying in bed, came the note through the door. Luckily she had got there before him.

YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS.



That was all.

Clearly it referred to breaking up Ed and Lily’s marriage.

The writing was in spidery capital letters. Who had sent it? Lily? Yet somehow Carla knew it wasn’t her style. Someone at work then? Even though most were friendlier now, there were still some who talked about their former colleague with affection. How she’d set up a new branch (with flexible hours apparently), focusing on cases where parents had children with special needs. How ‘she deserved to do well’. This last bit had been said by Lily’s old secretary with a meaningful look towards Carla.

Was it possible one of them had sent the note? Once more, she read it to herself.

YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS.



Part of Carla wanted to show Ed so he could banish her fears. Tell her it was all right. But what if it stirred his conscience? Made him feel guiltier than he did already? There were times when she often found him looking at pictures of Tom with a wistful gaze. And he was always in a difficult mood after their weekend visits. Did he regret leaving his son for her, Carla? Was it possible that he might leave her and return to Lily?

Such humiliation! She couldn’t end up like Mamma.

So instead of telling Ed about the note, she ripped it into little pieces. And just to make sure he didn’t find it like he’d found Rupert’s, she dropped the pieces of paper into the rubbish bin down the street.

For a few weeks after that, she felt nervous, looking over her shoulder every time she went to the office, out-staring the secretary. But nothing happened.

At home, Ed’s infatuation with her made him clinging and controlling. ‘Where have you been?’ he demanded one night when she came back late after sorting out an urgent land contract. ‘I tried to ring you but there was no answer.’

‘I had it switched off so I could concentrate.’

But when she came out of the shower that night, she found him stuffing her mobile quickly back into her bag as if he’d been checking it.

‘I’m not hiding anything from you,’ she said, annoyed.

‘Of course you’re not, darling.’ He draped an arm around her. ‘I just thought I heard it hum. Look, you’ve got a text.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Your work again.’

That stifling feeling increased.

Then an important client cancelled a commission for a portrait of his wife. ‘Apparently she disapproves of the press publicity over us,’ said Ed, shrugging. ‘Never mind. Commissions come and go. The important thing is that I’ve got you. You know, I never felt I really had Lily. She was always thinking of Daniel or Tom or her career.’

Meanwhile, bottles of wine were disappearing from the cellar at an alarming rate. ‘I took them into the gallery,’ said Ed when she questioned him about it. But later in the week, she found the bottles at the bottom of the recycling bin at the back of the house.

Carla, still on a high from having briefed a barrister about a case that looked as though it was almost in the bag, began to feel a stirring of frustration. Was this how Lily had felt?

Then, one Sunday when Ed was out sketching (again), she did a great tidy-up, partly to expunge Lily’s lingering presence in the house. Ed’s study was sacrosanct: no one went into it. But when she peered inside, she could see the desk was overflowing with bits of paper. Cobwebs fluttered in the corners. Dirty mugs were on every surface. Just a quick bit of rearranging wouldn’t go amiss.

Underneath the half-finished sketches, she found a pile of unopened post.

Some had ‘Urgent’ stamped on the envelope. Others, ‘Open Immediately’.

So she did.

Aghast, Carla sank on to Ed’s chair. He owed thousands on his credit card. The mortgage hadn’t been paid for two months. There was a letter giving them three more months, ‘following your request’.

But after that, the money would have to be paid.

‘It will be all right,’ Ed said when she confronted him as soon as he got back. ‘It’s just a question of cash flow. I’ve got the new exhibition coming up. My agent is very optimistic. I’ll sell more than enough to keep us going.’

Then he looked at her disappointedly as though she’d been in the wrong. ‘Please don’t go into my study again. It’s not as though I’ve got anything to hide.’