The Wife Before Me(30)
‘I took the train to Wicklow, then a taxi out here,’ Tara says. ‘I didn’t realise Woodbine was so far out in the sticks.’ She stands back to survey Elena. ‘I like the shades. Classy. Not sure about the hairstyle. Bit Joan of Arc, if you don’t mind me saying so.’
‘It’s easier to manage this way.’ Elena flicks it self-consciously with her fingers. ‘Joel was pulling it out by the roots. Excuse the shambles.’ She clears toys from the floor and dumps them into a toybox. ‘Why didn’t you let me know you were coming?’
‘I tried ringing your mobile. You’re not answering.’
‘It’s broken. Grace’s handiwork. I haven’t had time to pick up a new one.’
‘Oh, my!’ Tara hunkers down as Grace walks towards her. ‘This can’t be Grace. I thought she was a baby.’
‘This little fellow usurped her.’ Elena gestures towards the carrycot, where Joel lies sleeping.
‘Wow!’ Tara dutifully admires him. ‘He’s beautiful. How old is he now?’
‘Four months.’
‘And Grace is?’
‘A year and six months.’
‘Irish twins. You have been a busy girl since I saw you last.’
‘Wine,’ says Elena. ‘White, I presume?’
‘Sounds perfect.’ Tara collapses into an armchair and coaxes Grace onto her lap.
In the downstairs bathroom, Elena takes off her sunglasses. The bruising is still livid around her eyes and across her forehead. She runs a comb through her hair and splashes cold water over her face. She cannot remember what ignited this last row and anyway it is no longer possible to anticipate the ‘trigger’. Her back aches and a pain at the base of her neck worries her. She walks slowly towards the kitchen and takes a bottle of white wine from the fridge. She uncorks it and returns to the conservatory, where Joel, awake now, is demanding to be fed. Grace immediately abandons Tara and demands her mother’s attention.
‘How do you do it?’ Tara asks as Elena settles him at her breast and perches Grace on the chair beside her.
‘It’s an innate skill,’ Elena replies. ‘You’ll discover you have it when your own brood arrive.’
‘Perish the thought.’ Tara spins the wine glass between her fingers. ‘I don’t possess a single maternal bone in my entire body.’ She stops, startled into shocked silence, when Grace, reaching upwards, pulls the sunglasses from Elena’s face.
‘Oh my God! What’s happened to you?’ The expression on her face tells Elena that her friend has already guessed the answer.
‘I was standing on a stepladder looking for something on top of the kitchen cupboard. I overbalanced.’
‘Did you go to hospital?’
‘No need. No bones were broken. I was lucky it wasn’t more serious. I only fell down four steps.’
‘Four steps too many, Elena.’
‘It happens.’ She refills Tara’s wine glass and puts the bottle back on the coffee table.
‘Won’t you join me?’ Tara asks. ‘You look as if you could do with a strong drink.’
‘My body is an alcohol-free zone when I’m feeding. But I’d love a glass of water. Would you mind bringing me one in from the kitchen?’ She needs a moment to compose herself. Tara’s expression, that sceptical grimace she was unable to hide, has caused the heat to rush to her cheeks. Grace, still holding the sunglasses, wriggles to the floor and flings them into the playpen. Joel, sated, pokes a matchstick finger into his mouth and drifts asleep.
‘Are you happy with Nicholas?’ Tara asks when she returns with the water. A slice of lemon floats on top. Elena’s face scrunches, as if she has bitten into its tartness. He has destroyed her hopes of independence, shamed her sense of self so severely that she is unable to confide in her friends. She hesitates too long, unable to form the words she needs, and Tara, frowning, kneels before her. ‘Does he hurt you, Elena?’
The question shocks her into an immediate response. ‘I’ve already told you what happened, Tara. Why on earth would you ask me a question like that?’
‘I’m sorry. Sorry. It’s just… Steve said you seemed different when you met him in that restaurant and Susie told me you were a mess when she saw you in hospital.’
‘Did you have a conference on my general welfare?’ Elena snaps. ‘Is that why you’re here today? To check me out?’
‘I’m here because I’m your friend. As are the others. You’ve cut yourself off from us, Elena. You seldom answer my texts or return my calls. If there’s anything―’
They are alone, apart from the children, yet she has a sensation that she can be overheard and it causes her heart to beat faster. ‘I’ve told you exactly what happened. As for not being in touch, you try managing two babies and you’ll really understand the meaning of busyness.’
‘I’ve upset you.’ Tara sighs. ‘I certainly didn’t come here with that intention.’
Her concern is unbearable. What will she tell the others? A black eye, face swollen. Elena imagines a Skype session, opinions hardening, the truth decided. What then? Will they ride off into the sunset with her and her two babies? She doesn’t want to think about that night. How she turned on the stairs to hit back at Nicholas. It happened so fast, her feet sliding from under her. She doesn’t remember anything else except his expression as she lost her balance. So detached… she can’t forget it, no matter how often she convinces herself it’s all in her imagination. Tara is forcing her to confront it. He might have stopped her fall. He might have caused it. He might be completely innocent. He could be a monster.