The Girl I Used to Be(57)

When he saw me looking at him, he winked, and that seemed so inappropriate but such a welcome diversion in all that misery that I winked back. As I turned back I saw that the funeral director had noticed and looked shocked. As well he might. I think that was the first time I felt like laughing in over a year.

He was waiting for me outside, after the service ended. “Poor Coco,” he said, and suddenly it was like the old days. David had been visiting our house one day when I was little; I think I was four years old and the boys must have been eleven or twelve. I’d been playing with my mum’s makeup and had made a right mess of myself. They’d laughed so much when they saw me and called me Coco the Clown. The nickname had stuck. I hadn’t been called that since my brother died, and as soon as David said it, it was like I had my family back. “You’ve had a tough time, haven’t you?”

For the first time since I lost my mum, I felt tears prickling the back of my eyes. I’d done everything—all the legal stuff, arranging the funeral, sorting the bills—on my own and I’d known that if I started to cry I’d never stop. Now at this hint of kindness from someone who’d known me as I was before, I could feel myself well up.

“It’s all over now,” I said. “Finally she’s at peace.”

The neighbors said good-bye then, and my mum’s cousin promised to keep in touch, though I wasn’t going to hold my breath on that. They kissed my cheek, told me I’d been a good daughter, the very best, and they were off.

I stared after them thinking I’d have to go back to the empty house, with no clue what to do with myself, when David said, “You know what you need, don’t you, Coco?”

“To sleep for a year?”

“You need to get drunk,” he said.

I laughed. “What?”

“We should have a wake for your mum.”

“Wakes are usually held before the funeral.”

He shrugged. “And did you have one?”

I shook my head.

“Well, then. Better late than never.” He smiled at me then and I couldn’t resist. “Come on,” he said. “My treat.”

So off we went into Liverpool on the train, both dressed in our sober black suits, on a Tuesday morning, to have our wake. We hopped from bar to bar, and with each drink we had to toast my mum and say something nice about her. I struggled a bit with that, but he did well. He had the best memories. And then he went up to the bar to get more cocktails and when he came back I asked what they were.

“Between the Sheets,” he said, and he leaned over the little bar table and kissed me.

We were married within a month.





FORTY-TWO


    RACHEL


Present day

GEMMA STARED AT me, so shocked that her mouth fell open. She was clearly struggling to process what I’d said.

“You’re married?” she said. “To David Sanderson?”

I started to speak, to tell her that that wasn’t his name, but stopped myself just in time. “I’m married, yes.” I could feel myself flush. I hadn’t told another person that I was married and it felt weird, as though I was pretending to be grown up.

“Since when?” she asked.

I bristled. What did it have to do with her? David and I had agreed I wouldn’t go into detail. There’s no need for her to know anything, he’d said. Keep it to yourself. When in doubt, keep quiet. So I did keep quiet, but it seemed Gemma could keep quiet longer than I could, as eventually I heard myself saying, “A while.”

“And yet you said you were single,” she said. “When you came to the interview I asked you and you specifically said, ‘I’m single. Never been married. Don’t particularly want to get married.’”

It sounded as though she was mimicking me, and I scowled at her. “You’ve got a good memory.”

“Damn right, I have,” she said.

I had to figure out how to play this. I’d known she’d find out sometime—that was part of it, knowing she would—but I’d thought we had time. I hadn’t dreamed it would be today. One glance at her told me she wasn’t going to leave here until this was sorted.

Oh well. So it was time. I was ready for her.

“Did you know him when he came into the office?” she asked.

I couldn’t help it. I laughed at the thought of that day when I had to pretend I didn’t know him and ask him how he liked his coffee.

Gemma looked shocked. “Were you married to him then?”

I just looked at her. I wasn’t going to tell her anything. I’d been preparing for this for a long time. Don’t incriminate yourself, David had said over and again. Don’t give her anything, not one piece of information, that she can hang you with. I turned away and counted to ten. Keep calm, I thought. Keep calm. She has nothing on you.

“Rachel,” she said, “there’s something I should tell you.”

I readied myself. “What?”

“He’s trouble. David is trouble.”

I laughed again. “I don’t think he’s the one I should be worried about.”

“He is!” she said. “He’s trying to destroy me.”

I was trying to keep quiet, trying to remember David’s instructions, but I couldn’t help it. It had to be said. “Come off it, Gemma,” I said. “You’re making it sound as though you’re a complete innocent here.”