The Daughter-in-Law, page 2
Glancing at her watch, she realized she had been walking longer than she’d meant. The others would be up and wondering where she was. As she gingerly got to her feet, a sharp pain shot up her right leg, making her sit back down again. ‘Shit!’ She reached into the pocket of her shorts then looked about her. Had she dropped her phone when she fell? An image flashed into her mind, showing where she’d left it on the kitchen table. ‘Oh no.’ She felt like crying.
There was no alternative but to crawl on her hands and knees back up the path to the small car park and hope for rescue. If it had taken her ten minutes to get to where she fell, she guessed that it took three or four times as long to get back up. Stones and grit dug into her palms and knees, the pain excruciating. Sweat poured down her face, tears welled in her eyes, but eventually she arrived and collapsed in the shade of a pine tree, wondering what the hell to do next. But there was nothing she could do, except wait until someone came.
After what seemed an eternity, she heard the sound of an engine, and a red car turned the corner to park in the shade near her. The doors opened and out spilled a family armed with towels, beach games and a picnic basket.
‘Excuse me.’ How English she sounded.
The woman turned towards her. ‘Are you okay?’ Pale-complexioned, friendly faced, a wide-brimmed hat held in her hand, shorts, bikini top and trainers. With a rush of relief, Hope realized they were English too.
She explained what had happened. The woman looked at her ankle. ‘That looks nasty. Where are you staying?’
‘Down through those olive groves.’ Hope waved in the general direction of their villa. ‘But I think I should try to get it looked at. I don’t think it’s broken but…’ Without her phone she couldn’t call Paul, but returning to the house as a problem without a solution didn’t seem ideal. Better to sort it out herself first. They’d see her phone and realize she couldn’t contact them. She’d be back as soon as she could, her ankle strapped up and ready to go.
‘Can I take you into Loggos? Maybe we can find your holiday rep if you have one. They’ll know what to do.’
Hope remembered Shirley, the talkative girl in a uniform who’d met them off the ferry and escorted them to the villa. She doubted Shirley would be much help in an emergency, but what choice did she have?
‘I can’t ask you to do that. What about your family?’
‘You didn’t ask; I offered. And Tom’ll take them to the beach. Won’t you, darling?’
‘Sure,’ her husband answered. ‘Come on, kids. We’ll see you later.’ He gave a broad smile and adjusted his reversed baseball cap. ‘Go and be a good Samaritan. I hope you haven’t done anything too serious.’ This last to Hope.
They drove down to the town and found Shirley sitting in one of the cafés nursing a coffee. She immediately let Hope use her phone to call Paul to explain what had happened before supporting Hope to the local surgery.
Thanks to her Samaritan, and then Shirley, Hope was quickly seen by the doctor, who unnervingly doubled as the local butcher.
‘He won’t chop off my leg by mistake, will he?’ Hope made the joke he must have heard a thousand times. Shirley laughed, but the doctor’s face remained impassive.
‘A nasty sprain,’ he said, in halting English. He looked unperturbed, presumably used to careless tourists. ‘It needs rest.’
By eleven o’clock, Shirley had found a local taxi for Hope before heading off to the port to greet new clients. With her ankle strapped up, a rusty Zimmer frame on the roof because the doctor had run out of crutches, Hope rode home, dreading Edie’s reaction. But when they pulled up outside the house and the driver helped her out, Edie’s and Paul’s faces were etched with concern as they rushed to help.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Hope said, hobbling with the help of the Zimmer. She wanted to get in first, before they had a chance to speak. ‘I’ve ruined everything.’
‘Don’t be silly, Mum. We’ll manage. We’re sorry for you, that’s all.’
‘Yes,’ echoed Edie, but Hope sensed her displeasure that the holiday they’d imagined was going to be very different. Far from being the help they’d planned Hope would be, she had suddenly become a burden. And, worse, she felt geriatric.
‘Why ever did you go off on your own?’ asked Edie. ‘If you’d waited, we could all have explored together.’
If only she had, then the holiday wouldn’t have been disrupted. ‘It was such a beautiful morning, I couldn’t resist, and you were all asleep.’
Edie shook her head and tutted.
‘Never mind,’ said Paul. ‘What’s done’s done. We can manage, I’m sure.’ He put his hand on Edie’s shoulder but she shook it off and turned back to the villa, her annoyance more obvious now. Turning to Hope, he raised his eyebrows as if to say, ’You know what she’s like. It’ll blow over.’ But instead of reassurance, all Hope felt was a stab of sadness seeing that things weren’t entirely easy between them.
2
A couple of days after the family’s return from Paxos, Edie stretched herself out on Ana’s sofa, glass of wine in hand.
The two women had met years earlier at a party thrown by a mutual friend. They’d hit it off immediately – both of them single, ambitious and serious about their respective careers in fashion and law but both making sure that they fitted in excitement and fun, too. Although life had changed for Edie, their friendship had continued.
Back in London, life was infinitely more relaxing. On holiday, she had been constantly on call, looking after the kids, cooking, driving… no time to sit down. She reached for a peanut. ‘So, she turned up at the house in a taxi, leg strapped up and with an ancient Zimmer frame.’ She took a sip of wine. ‘Honestly, I’m glad to be back.’
‘She must have felt terrible, though.’ For once, out of her high-flying role at one of London’s leading fashion stores, Ana was dressed down in jeans and a pale blue T-shirt. Her face was alert, quick to read a room, keen to pick up any nuance.
‘I know. It was so disappointing for all of us. If only she hadn’t decided to go off and explore on her own.’ Edie threw up her hands. If only Hope had waited for one of them, things might have been different. ‘The island was heaven. Paul and I had thought we might go out one or two evenings, explore the island a bit on our own, but we couldn’t leave the kids with her because the poor woman could barely walk. At least she was a big hit with the local taxi driver. He’d come and drive her down to the harbour for the odd meal with us and the girls. Otherwise she couldn’t really help out until halfway through the second week.’
‘Can’t have been much fun for her.’ Ana was separating the tassels that trimmed one of her maroon velvet cushions.
‘Oh, I don’t know. She just lay by the pool reading, which isn’t such a bad holiday.’ Exactly the holiday Paul had promised her, she remembered with regret. ‘She had us waiting on her hand and foot.’ She laughed to cover the sting of resentment.
‘What’s your problem with her?’ Ana asked. ‘She’s always seemed perfectly nice whenever I’ve met her.’
Edie pondered, reflecting on why she and Hope had never really clicked. ‘For one, she just makes me feel like a totally inadequate mother. She always seems to know what Betty wants. She spends hours playing those games that I find utterly boring after ten minutes. And she has a killer knack for getting Hazel to sleep. And if I hear her comment on Betty being on the iPad again, I’ll scream. She puts on a certain expression when she disapproves of something. When I stopped breastfeeding after only four weeks, you’d have thought I was withdrawing life support. Look at Betty! She hasn’t suffered. But, oh no! She fed Paul for six months. And, worst of all, she tiptoes round me as if she’s frightened I’m going to snap her head off.’
‘You probably are.’ Ana put the cushion back with the others, such an elegant mountain of comfort.
‘I try so hard not to.’ But who was Edie trying to convince? That first time, she had been so anxious about meeting Paul’s mother. She’d immediately sensed how wary Hope was of her, too.
‘But see it from her point of view. She’s divorced, she lives alone now, and Paul, you and the girls are all she’s got.’
‘Hope’s had other men in her life since,’ Edie countered, ‘and she’s got friends.’
‘I don’t get it. Grannies are useful. If you got on better with your own mother, or at least pretended to, she could help you with the kids instead.’
‘You don’t understand. My mother’s just not like that. In fact, she’s the exact opposite of Hope. As far as she’s concerned, the more distance between us the better. Dad was the glue that held us together, and since he died, we’ve only drifted further apart.’ It wasn’t how she had imagined or wanted their relationship to be in adulthood, but she realized now that her mother had always pushed her away. She hesitated before going on, but the wine and a ready listener encouraged her. ‘My biggest mistake’s been having a second baby. I didn’t want one, but Paul was so keen to have another so it seemed a good idea to get the baby thing out of the way and have two close together. I thought my second mat leave would be a breeze after the first. They’d be friends, and I could get back to work. But it’s been much harder than I expected. Two sets of nappies, two non-sleepers.’
‘You poor thing, it sounds hard.’
‘Honestly, it’s non-stop, and the sense of responsibility is overwhelming. Worst of all, it feels so bloody lonely. If I’m desperate, I’ve got Celine, the au pair next door, who’s always up for a bit of spare cash. Otherwise, I can get my neighbour over the road or Hope to step in for an hour or so sometimes, but the rest of the time it’s just me.’
‘Isn’t Paul around? And what about the other women you met on that NCT course?’
Edie pulled a face. ‘Paul’s only about in the evenings and weekends and, as for the other women… well, I don’t think I’m cut out to be an earth mother, and they sense it.’
‘That makes two of us,’ said Ana, raising a toast.
‘Yes, but I’m in the middle of family life now. You’re not.’
‘And never will be. Great for others, but not for me. Anyway, at least your nanny’s coming back soon. I still don’t understand why you gave her so much time off when you needed her.’
‘Because Jen wanted to travel and, anyway, I wanted to do it myself: be a mum to my children. This way we both got our chance; she went to the Far East and I’ve been mothering secure in the knowledge that she was coming back.’
Edie realized that, unless Ana had children herself, she would never understand how Edie had wanted to prove to herself and everyone else that she did have a nurturing side to her, that she wasn’t all about her career. She had wanted to be a ‘proper’ mother in the brief six months of her maternity leave, but the reality had come as an unwelcome and exhausting shock. ‘What was I thinking? Anyway, don’t worry about me. I’m fine.’
But Edie wasn’t fine. The overwhelming guilt she felt was almost intolerable. She was aware that some of the other new mothers she had met thought having a nanny was a mark of privilege, not to mention a sign of her unmaternal feelings.
‘How can you bear to hand them over to someone else? Think of what you’ll miss,’ one of them had said.
When Edie tried to explain her work as a barrister, the demands it made on her time and the impossibility of doing it without reliable help, the woman had looked at her, astonished, and avoided her from then on. She had felt awkward about Jen’s presence in their life ever since, but she couldn’t live her life without her.
She had thought she was one of those women who could have it all. But the reality was so far from the dream. What she felt for her children was different from the all-consuming baby love that those others in her NCT class claimed to experience. Not that she saw much of them anymore. They only made her situation feel worse. She couldn’t give up her career or her family – but juggling them successfully was virtually impossible. She and Paul needed her income but, more than that, she loved what she did and couldn’t imagine her life without being a barrister. Although she had thought she wanted children, now she had them, she found she loved her independence and her career more. She loved the girls in her way, but it wasn’t enough. She recognized the truth but was ashamed to admit it or ask for help. Sometimes, when things got on top of her, she had even wished she had never met Paul, never had children. Then her life would be so much less complicated and she could live it on her own terms.
Especially now Daniel had come back into it.
‘What does Paul say?’ Ana curled her legs beneath her. ‘How’s he coping? Is he okay about you going back to work?’
‘He’s happy.’ In fact, Edie didn’t know what Paul felt about it. Had they even discussed it? Her return was just something they had taken for granted, never questioning it. She drummed her nails against the bowl of her wine glass.
‘That’s love for you, you know,’ said Ana. ‘Allowing the other person to be who they want to be.’
‘He doesn’t exactly “allow” me,’ objected Edie as she took a fat olive, biting the flesh from round the stone.
‘You know what I mean.’
‘I do. If anyone’s allowing anyone anything, it’s me. Let’s face it, without my earnings, we’d go under.’
‘And you resent it?’ Ana was always quick to point at the truth.
‘Sometimes… Yes, sometimes I do.’
‘But he’s so good at what he does. Everyone admires his work.’
‘I know. But you know he trained in Business Management at uni before he took up furniture making? Not that I wish he’d stuck at it exactly, but…’
She had lucked out when she met Paul, a man who turned heads when he came into a room. Tall, broad-shouldered with a shock of uncontrolled dark hair that fell over his forehead, a look of quiet bemusement on his face as if he wasn’t always quite connecting with the world. A man of few words who channelled his creative energies into his wood carving and cabinet making in private homes across the city. As soon as he had walked through the door of her apartment to make her a bespoke wardrobe, she had wanted him much more than the wardrobe. And it didn’t take her long to get him. Was it his smile, his quiet intelligence, or the way he looked at her, shy but appraising? She didn’t remember which attracted her first.
‘And Daniel?’ Ana filled their glasses. ‘That’s going nowhere, I assume.’
Edie tensed. Ana was the only person who knew about Daniel’s reappearance in her life, and she had been sworn to secrecy.
‘I don’t know. I’m going to see him next week.’ Her stomach flipped. This wouldn’t be the first time she and Daniel had met since Hazel’s birth, but the physical side of their affair had been put on hold since the latter stages of her pregnancy. She had heard other women talk about how turned on they felt when pregnant, but not her. She felt like an elephant on heat – big and clumsy, so she pushed both men away. She was well aware that her body hadn’t bounced back as quickly as it had after Betty’s birth; its firm lines had blurred and softened. When she complained, Paul told her that he liked her even better as she was, although since she’d had the girls, he’d started treating her like a piece of porcelain, something too precious to be touched.
Daniel was another matter. He had been in her life for so long now, since long before she even met Paul. She remembered the three intense and heady years of dating before he took an irresistible position at a barrister’s chambers in Newcastle. Going with him was out of the question, unless she gave up the chambers she had worked so hard to belong to in London and the kudos that went with it. They promised each other their relationship would continue despite the distance between them, but in the end it proved too much. Their work was too demanding and unpredictable and they agreed to separate. It took a long, painful time before she thought she might be ready to commit herself to someone else. She was still licking the last of her wounds when she met Paul. They had fun together, they laughed together, they travelled together and eventually they lived together and she thought she was in love. Daniel, her first real love, became someone in her past.
Until he reappeared in London.
She hadn’t meant to fall in love with him again. She hadn’t got married only to get divorced, but when he re-entered her life after Betty was born, she hadn’t been able to turn him away.
Nothing between them had changed. The fact that, after one and then two babies, someone who wasn’t Paul found her attractive astonished and delighted her. Daniel still loved her, and she him. He gave her back the sexual confidence that she’d lost, and the exciting, secretive love that Paul couldn’t.
‘Must you see him? Really?’ Ana asked. Surprisingly, in her eyes, fidelity in marital affairs was paramount. ‘What’s the point of putting everything you have at risk?’
‘Don’t, please. No one knows and no one will get hurt.’ She was absolutely determined that would be the case.
‘You might.’
‘I won’t. Not if I’m careful.’
Ana scoffed. ‘Oh please!’ She was never afraid to express her thoughts.
‘I don’t want to hurt Paul. I love him, too.’
‘You’re lucky to have someone who adores you.’ For a moment Ana sounded envious.
Edie sometimes wondered if her friend longed for a different life despite her protestations to the contrary, but if she did, she would never admit it.
‘It can be stifling, though. Don’t you see that?’
‘Not really, no. What happens when you inevitably get found out?’
‘We won’t. We’re incredibly careful.’
Ana picked up the wine bottle. ‘It always happens somehow – how many times have we seen that? A text message, a hotel receipt, a train ticket.’ She indicated Edie’s glass. ‘One for the road?’
Edie glanced at her watch. ‘Eight o’clock already! I’d better not. Hazel’s waking up at four a.m. these days.’
‘How grim.’ Ana pulled a face. ‘The only thing that wakes me then is a lover. Whoever he might be!’
