Girl Unknown(41)

‘Shouldn’t she be getting professional help?’

‘How is she supposed to afford that?’

‘What about the university? Haven’t they got counsellors?’

‘I don’t think that’s the answer, Caroline.’

I could see I wasn’t going to get anywhere. Turning back to the worktop I began scraping leftovers into a Tupperware box.

‘I’ll do something with Holly,’ he said, to appease me. ‘Something to make her feel special.’

‘Fine.’ I put the box into the fridge. Still I could feel him watching me. When I glanced at him, it was obvious there was something else on his mind. ‘What is it?’ I asked.

‘I’ve been giving some thought to Zo?’s college fees,’ he began. Instantly my defences rose. ‘She hasn’t said it outright, but it’s clear that she hasn’t got much money. Gary isn’t exactly supportive and the part-time jobs barely pay her rent. I have the impression it might have been a contributing factor to what she did on Christmas Day.’

‘Where are you going with this?’ I asked, unable to keep the coldness from my voice.

He was standing opposite me, looking at me squarely. ‘I want to pay her college fees.’

A laugh escaped me, and I could see it startled him. ‘With what?’ I asked. ‘A big chunk of your salary goes to pay the mortgage. Have you forgotten the loan we took out to do all this?’ I gestured with one hand to take in the new kitchen, the extension, with its wall of windows, revealing the garden beyond. Despite the bequest from my parents, our house renovation – the renovation of our marriage – had put pressure on our finances.

‘We’ll manage,’ he said, standing his ground.

‘What about all the other outgoings? Car payments, school fees, health insurance, not to mention cello lessons, piano lessons and the other after-school activities? It all adds up, David. How are you going to make your salary cover all that as well as college fees?’

He began to look shifty.

‘Can’t you pay for some of that stuff?’

I didn’t say anything, just stared.

‘Now that you’re working, you could cover the kids’ activities and the school fees. Maybe the health insurance, too.’

I could hardly believe what he was suggesting. ‘You want me to pay for Zo?’s college fees?’

‘I didn’t say –’

‘That’s what it amounts to, though.’

‘For God’s sake, Caroline. Is it so much to ask that you contribute a little? All these years, I’ve been shouldering the entire financial burden. Is it unreasonable to ask you to share the load now?’

Anger shot through every muscle and fibre. It was outrageous. All those years I had worked in our home, raising our children, keeping things running smoothly on the domestic front, leaving him free to pursue his career, all that time it had felt like there had been a pact between us, a mutual appreciation of the other’s endeavours. Now, with the sweep of his words, he was devaluing all the years I had put into our family, our home, as if there were some kind of debt I needed to repay him. His suggestion that I should pay for Zo?’s education – and that was what it was, no matter how he tried to dress it up – was like a slap in the face.

‘I am not paying for that girl’s education,’ I said emphatically.

‘Hang on –’

‘No, David.’

I stepped past him quickly, unwilling to spend another second discussing it, and as I went into the hall, I felt it. The slightest movement of air coming from the top of the stairs, the faintest creak of a floorboard overhead. I moved into the middle and looked up, hoping to catch a glimpse of whoever had been listening.

Perhaps I had imagined it. All the bedroom doors were closed. Robbie’s cello was silent. I thought I heard laughter drifting down from his room. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone else had overheard our entire conversation in the kitchen.

A little later in the week, I was in the office when out of the blue I got a call from Robbie’s school asking me to come at once. There had been an incident.

‘What happened? Is Robbie all right?’

‘He’s fine,’ the school secretary told me. ‘He’s in Mrs Campbell’s office at the moment.’

I had not seen Mrs Campbell, the headmistress, since the business with Aidan, and even hearing her name now brought a prickling to my skin, like thousands of nerve-endings sitting up in fright.

‘I’m at work,’ I said, flustered. ‘I mean, is he hurt?’

‘Oh, no. He’s not hurt,’ she said, and my heart sank as she went on: ‘If it’s difficult for you, perhaps Robbie’s father could come. Either way, Mrs Campbell wants this sorted out immediately.’

There was no way I could ask David. He’d made it clear after the parent-teacher meeting in September that I needed to get over my humiliation.

‘I’ll be there in half an hour,’ I told her.

A short time later, when I parked my car outside the school and climbed the granite steps, I was filled with dread at going back there. Dread mingled with a niggling sense of annoyance. Why hadn’t I stood my ground at the time, insisted on moving Robbie to a different school? The whole staff knew what I had done. Did David get some kind of satisfaction from that? His petty revenge meted out piecemeal with every parent-teacher meeting for the next three years? Every school play, every sports day, every end-of-year Mass: did he quietly enjoy my humiliation at every occasion?