The Silent Wife(46)
‘Of course he will. He’ll be pleased for us to spend time with you. It’s not really a case of him “letting” us anyway… we’re a bit more equal than that.’
Even Mum had fallen into the trap of thinking that I needed to throw myself on the floor, grateful for a husband. I wondered if anyone thought Nico was lucky to have me. But Mum was so thrilled about our Cornwall adventure she didn’t notice my sharp words.
‘We can go to the Eden project – I think I can swap my Tesco vouchers for tickets – and I saw on telly that there’s surfing down there, perhaps Sam can try it, there are some lovely beaches, with a bit of sun, it’ll be as good as going abroad.’
The word ‘abroad’ woke me up. God. Tuscany. First two weeks of August.
Mum was still extolling the virtues of Cornish cream teas and planning to hire a windbreak if it was a bit blowy. I couldn’t tell her we couldn’t go. Not now. Not when she was already feeling as though we were looking down our noses at her.
But I couldn’t allow her make plans then let her down at a later date. I sat there, my face, my heart burning. I needed to get the words out.
‘Actually, Mum, I’m really sorry but I’ve just realised Sam and I are flying to Tuscany then.’
She looked at me as though I’d said we were off to America on a private jet. ‘Tuscany?’
I nodded, hoping today wouldn’t be the day that I would have to articulate the words, ‘We’re staying in a castle’.
Something shifted on her face, as though Sam and I were drifting further and further out of her reach. I wanted to row back towards her and scoop her into the boat with us, not leave her stranded, an unwilling spectator of a life she couldn’t share.
Which is probably why the next sentence flew out of my mouth, a crazy idea formulated by an unbalanced mind, a suggestion with ‘disaster’ written all over it, flashing about the kitchen in strobe lighting.
‘Why don’t you come to Italy with us?’
21
LARA
My provisional licence arrived after five days. I stared at my haunted face on the little photocard, feeling terrified. I’d somehow imagined it wouldn’t turn up for a month or two. I’d managed to get the cash out of Massimo by telling him Sandro was going on a school trip. Riddled with guilt, I’d schooled Sandro in the lie. It couldn’t be helped. Dad had to come first for the moment.
Before I lost my nerve, I walked into town and bought some magnetic L-plates, shoving them into my bag as though I’d bought a leopard skin thong I didn’t want anyone to see. I went straight round to Maggie’s, feeling nervous in case she’d gone off the idea. She came to the door looking as though she hadn’t been to bed for a week.
‘Are you okay?’
And this time, it was her turn to burst into tears.
‘What’s the matter?’ I wanted to hug her, but instead I shuffled about in the hallway, embarrassed. I was so out of practice at the warts and all of friendship. When I was at work, boyfriend bust-ups, being bawled out by the boss and IVF failures had me shouting through loo doors on a regular basis. Now I was so busy keeping a lid on my own life, I’d got lulled into thinking everyone else was so happy they did a little disco dance in front of the mirror every morning.
She started to fill me in on what had happened the night before.
‘Oh my god. What did Nico say? Was he furious?’ I asked.
‘I don’t think he realised how important it is to me to keep working. I don’t earn anything like he does, so I think everyone assumes I’m just titting about sewing on a few buttons. But I want to pay my way. Everyone already thinks I just married Nico for his money.’ She gave a little sob.
I felt a rush of shame for getting sucked into Anna’s little power-play. ‘No one thinks that.’
Maggie broke away. ‘I love you for saying that, Lara, but I could name at least one person who does. You and Massimo have made me really welcome though.’
Thank God she hadn’t overheard Massimo when Sandro had let slip that he’d been to Beryl’s last week instead of going swimming. He’d ranted on about ‘fat-arsed Fanny next door coming up with the brilliant idea of leaving our son in a bloody drugs den while you two go gallivanting off to see a bloke who doesn’t know what day of the week it is.’
‘Can I help you tidy up?’
‘I’m not sure how bad it is yet. I couldn’t face looking at it properly last night. I was just about to go up.’
‘Come on, let’s do it now. The sooner you’re shipshape again, the less angry you’ll feel.’
Maggie gave me a little ghost of a smile. ‘Thank you. And as soon as we’ve finished, let’s head out of town and find somewhere quiet to turn you into Lewis Hamilton.’
God knows how Maggie felt, because I nearly screamed when I saw the state of her workshop. But, unlike me, Maggie was made of tough stuff. She closed her eyes, took a big breath and handed me one of the printers’ trays.
‘Could you pick up the blue and green beads, and anything diamante?’
We worked in silence for a bit, until I couldn’t bear it any more.
‘Was there a particular trigger for this? When I saw you with Francesca a few weeks ago, I thought you were getting on really well?’