The Younger Wife(70)
‘I hadn’t forgotten,’ he said patiently. ‘But there are medications which are safe to take while pregnant.’
Heather hesitated. Her arm was throbbing. ‘Really?’
He smiled. ‘Trust me. I’m a doctor.’
Stephen left her in the room and disappeared to find painkillers. While he was gone, Heather tried to make sense of everything. Stephen had strangled her . . . hadn’t he? She had felt his hands around her neck, saw him staring into her eyes. But even now, when she looked at her reflection, there were still no marks on her. How was that possible? Was she going mad?
Stephen was gone a long time. Long enough that the scenario had gone around in her head several thousand times, and it still wasn’t any clearer. When he returned he had two pills in his hand, one long and the other round. He also held a plastic cup of water.
‘Are you sure these are safe?’ Heather asked.
‘One hundred per cent certain,’ he said. ‘That’s what took me so long – I had to find my obstetrician colleague to make sure.’
‘Thank you,’ she said, softening a little.
He put a hand on her leg. ‘You might not believe this right now, but I do want the best for you, Heather. I’m not sure what’s going on, but I think that now there’s a baby in the picture, we need to trust each other and know that we are in this thing together. Do you think that you can do that?’
Heather didn’t know what she thought. All she knew was the pain was getting worse, so she took the pills from him and swallowed them both in one large gulp.
49
RACHEL
As Rachel stood on her father’s doorstep, she felt quite nervous. She was empty-handed this time. It felt unusual, and yet she didn’t think it was the kind of visit that warranted cupcakes.
‘Rachel,’ Dad said, when he opened the door. ‘This is a surprise.’
‘Well, you always drop in on me unannounced, so I thought it was time I returned the favour.’
Dad looked tired, and not ecstatic to see her, but he opened the door wider and Rachel stepped inside. After trying and failing to reach him by phone the night before, she had woken up determined. She was going to confront him. She had to. And she would do it face to face.
‘Is Heather home?’ she asked, taking a seat on the barstool in the kitchen.
‘Yes, but she’s sleeping. We’d better keep our voices down.’
Rachel looked at her watch. ‘Still sleeping at nine o’clock?’
He looked at her quizzically. ‘It’s Sunday morning, Rachel. Some people like to have a lie-in.’
‘Not you,’ she said, pointing to the jogging outfit Dad was wearing.
‘No, not me.’ He sighed, falling onto the stool beside her. ‘So . . . what’s up?’
‘What’s up,’ she said, ‘is that I wanted to talk to you about Fiona Arthur.’
There was that flicker of recognition again. ‘Rachel, I told you –’
‘– that you didn’t know who she was, I know. But I met Fiona yesterday and she said she used to be married to you.’
The look on her father’s face was surprisingly rewarding. Annoyed, but also cornered. ‘You met Fiona?’
‘That’s all you’re going to say? Not, Sorry I lied to you? Not, Rachel, I can explain?’
He massaged his temples. ‘I wasn’t aware I had to share every aspect of my life with you, Rachel.’
She stared at him. ‘You don’t. But I’m not sure why you would lie to me when I asked you a direct question.’
‘I’m sorry. It’s a part of my life that I intended to keep private, that’s all. I didn’t know how important it was to you.’
‘It’s only important because her name was written on a piece of paper inside that hot-water bottle of Mum’s,’ she cried. ‘I’ve been trying to work out why Mum was saving all this money, and you had an essential piece of the puzzle and didn’t tell me.’
Dad had the decency to look contrite. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘Where did you find Fiona?’
‘On Facebook.’
‘Of course on Facebook.’ He sighed. ‘Rachel, I really wish you hadn’t reached out to her.’
‘I wish you had told me that she used to be your wife!’
‘It’s complicated, okay? Believe me, I had a good reason to keep it to myself.’
‘She said you abused her.’
Dad gaped. ‘She said I abused her?’
Rachel thought back to the language Fiona had used. ‘She said you hurt her,’ she corrected.
Dad rose from his stool. ‘And you took that to mean I abused her?’
Irritatingly, this caused Rachel to falter. ‘Well . . . how else would I take it?’
Dad looked positively stricken. He stood up and walked over to the kettle as if to switch it on, but then turned and walked back to her. ‘Do you really think that of me? That I could abuse someone? Your mother?’
‘I don’t. But . . .’
‘I don’t know what is going on in this family. It’s like no one knows me at all.’
‘What does that mean?’ Rachel said.
Dad stared into space for a moment. It was uncomfortable, seeing him like this. Normally Dad was calm, in charge, in control. It had shaken him, having her question him like this. But after a few moments, he appeared to make a decision. He returned to the barstool beside her. ‘I did hurt Fiona, all right? We were married for three years. We tried for a baby the entire time but she just couldn’t fall pregnant. She was older than me, and her time was running out. We’d been starting to look into other options when I met your mother.’