Girl Unknown(48)

Her presence was constant – at the dinner table, in the evenings when we were watching TV. In the mornings when we were rushing about she’d sit there calmly, eating yoghurt. Even when the house was empty, I could find traces of her recent presence – the bathroom steamy and warm from her shower; a coffee cup cooling on the draining-board. Occasionally, I would pass the stairway to the attic and catch the faint scent of cigarettes wafting down. Our home had been invaded by her presence, and despite my unease, I couldn’t think how to change it.

‘Caroline?’

A voice drew me out of my reverie, the din of the crowd coming back at me suddenly. I turned, my gaze clearing, and as soon as I saw him, the blood came rushing to my cheeks.

‘Aidan,’ I said, as he leaned forward with a half-smile and gave me a chaste kiss on the cheek. ‘This is a surprise.’

Over a year had passed since we had seen each other, the last occasion that excruciating meeting in Mrs Campbell’s office. The memory of it flitted through my mind and that alone was enough to stir up feelings of humiliation. We talked for a moment about the trade show, the company I was working for, and then he asked if I wanted to grab a coffee. We were two adults no longer involved with each other. It seemed churlish to say no.

Standing together at a tall table in the hospitality tent, two lattes between us, I told him about my return to work, the pressures and challenges as well as the rewards. He filled me in on his recent promotion. It was strange, being there with him, carefully restricting our conversation to safe topics while the commerce continued around us. We had to raise our voices to be heard and lean in to listen, and while we talked I was taking in the changes that had occurred in him. His hair seemed thinner under the bright spotlights, and there were crows’ feet shooting out from the sides of his eyes that I hadn’t noticed before. He was wearing a suit – his tie was fractionally askew and the jacket a little crumpled beneath the pockets. Small things, but they added up to give the impression of tiredness, sadness perhaps, which made me wonder about the health of his marriage.

I enquired how his son was doing; he asked after Robbie. My automatic reply was that Robbie was doing well, but after a moment’s hesitation, I added: ‘There was an incident at the school recently. Some trouble with a teacher.’ I explained what had happened, about the intimidation, the bullying, the assault. It was only when I revealed Robbie’s motivation that his eyes widened.

‘The French teacher? It was her?’ Then he grinned. ‘What the hell was she doing in Conways? It’s such a dive!’

‘I know!’ It felt good to be able to talk like that with the benefit of distance from the event itself.

He was still smiling at me, a note of fond recollection coming into his voice, saying, ‘When I think of some of the places we used to meet. I mean – the Three Sisters? Jesus! You must have thought I had no class at all.’

I laughed, and his eyes seemed to flicker over me, the smile dying on his face. ‘You have a lovely laugh, Caroline,’ he said, more serious now. ‘I always thought that.’

The moment had passed, and I felt the creep of shame again.

‘I’ve missed it,’ he added.

‘How have things been with you?’ I asked, uncomfortable beneath the weight of his stare. ‘With your wife, I mean?’

He rotated his coffee cup a fraction, his weight shifting to his other foot. ‘Okay. These things take time, I guess.’

I wondered had she told him about the incident in Ikea. I had a sudden recollection of the ferocity of her trolley bashing into mine, her face stripped of everything except the purest anger. I almost said it to him, then changed my mind. Instead, I told him about Zo?.

‘A daughter?’ he asked, interested. ‘From another relationship?’

‘One that predated our marriage. She’s eighteen, almost nineteen.’

His eyes opened wider in disbelief, and he exhaled out of the side of his mouth. ‘That must have been a shock to the system.’

It occurred to me that I hadn’t told a soul of Zo?’s existence – not a friend or a family member, not even a colleague. It was as though I had been trying to contain it, hoping it would somehow go away. Talking to him about it was a relief, and once I’d started, it was hard to stop. Aidan listened carefully, interjecting with questions and opinions of his own.

‘Does she look like David?’ he asked.

‘Not that I can see. A little like his mother, perhaps, but no, not really.’

‘What do the kids make of her?’

‘Holly can’t stand her. She almost comes out in a rash whenever Zo?’s in the room.’

‘And Robbie?’

‘They’re closer in age, and they’ve more in common. I can tell that he likes having her around. It’s just …’

‘Just what?’

‘I’m worried about him. He’s been acting up lately – and I know he’s a teenager and that’s what they do, but the way he’s been behaving seems out of character. They spend so much time together, him and Zo?. In the evenings, at weekends. Sometimes I find them talking in his room late into the night. I’m worried about the influence she has over him.’

‘She’s living in your home?’ he asked incredulously. ‘Whose idea was that?’

‘David’s. There was an incident over Christmas. It seems she tried to kill herself –’