Page 12 of The Wife
I end up having to jog to the salon, arriving back hot and sweaty, my heart pumping from the exertion, but also from anxiety. How am I meant to work with so many questions swimming around my head?
All afternoon, as I chat to my clients, I find myself having to fake interest in their conversations. Normally I enjoy hearing about their loves and lives, as if I’m catching up with old friends. Not today though. Instead, I spend the remaining hours feeling sick to my stomach. This time it isn’t just Madeline I’m worried about – it’s Madeline and myhusband. Is this the reason she’s beenoffwith me? Are she and Toby… But I can’t eventhinkit. Then why was she secretly meeting him?
The wordbetrayalkeeps popping into my head. But never in a million years could I think Toby is the type of man to cheat. He’s loyal and kind. He has strong family morals. Toby has always been an incredible husband – attentive, loving, considerate, fun. We’ve rarely had a cross word. Of course we have the odd disagreement like any married couple, but on the whole, it’s been a pretty perfect ten years of marriage. Which is one of the main reasons we’re having this party – to celebrate that fact.
Toby loves me. He wouldn’t jeopardise what we have. It’s part of why I love him so much. The absolute trust I have in our relationship. No, I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps he really was intervening with Madeline on my behalf. Asking her if anything’s wrong. But, honestly, that doesn’t sound like the type of thing Toby would do – not without running it past me first. I’ll just have to hope he brings it up when I get home. Best case scenario is he says, ‘Oh, hey, guess what, I spoke to Madeline today and she explained why she was acting so funny.’
Finally, the day is over and I’m able to leave work. But I still have to pick up the children from after-school club. Somehow, I manage to get through all that without breaking down and calling Toby to ask him outright. This is a conversation that will be best handled face to face. And I need to be calm, because there could be a perfectly innocent explanation.
Back home, there’s no sign of my husband’s van, and the house is dark. All my nervous energy suddenly dissipates, and I’m overwhelmed with exhaustion, my shoulders sagging.
‘Come on, you two, in you go.’ I usher Jamie and Alice inside and turn on the hall light. The house is warm, but it feels somehow strange to me. I keep thinking about Toby and Madeline being in here today. I wonder which room they went into. ‘Hang up your coats. Jamie, don’t leave your shoes in the middle of the hallway!’
‘I was going to move them, Mummy, but I’m doing my coat first.’
Guilt tugs at my chest. I shouldn’t take out my worries on my children. ‘Sorry, Jamie, you’re being really helpful.’ My phone pings, but I ignore it for the moment.
‘Am I being helpful too?’ Alice asks. ‘Shall I help make dinner?’
‘That would be very nice.’ I pull the children in close for a hug, kissing the tops of their heads. Their hair smells of shampoo and cold air. ‘Guess what?’
‘What?’ They both reply.
I release them from our hug and root about in my bag, pulling out a couple of items. ‘I bought more fish fingers and chips!’ I wave the packs in the air.
‘Yay!’ Alice cries.
‘Don’t burn them this time, Mummy,’ Jamie adds.
‘I’ll try not to.’ I give him my most serious look and we all burst out laughing. ‘Right, go wash your hands and get changed. I’ll start cooking tea.’
‘And I’m helping,’ Alice says.
‘Me too.’ Jamie doesn’t want to be left out.
‘After you’ve got changed.’
They run up the stairs and I try to hold onto their enthusiasm as I go through to the kitchen. I turn on the grill and nervously check my phone. There’s a message from Toby, saying he’s going to be a bit late home.Probably because he had an extended lunch break, I think bitterly. But immediately I shake myself free from that line of thinking. No point getting worked up before I even know what their meet-up was all about.
This time, with the help of my children, I manage not to burn their fish fingers, and they enjoy supper at the kitchen table while regaling me with stories of their day. My husband still hasn’t appeared. It’s not like him to be this late unless he’s on council business. As a landscape gardener, it’s more practical for him to start early and finish before it gets dark which, at this time of year, is around four thirty. It’s now almost six thirty.
I let the children watch half an hour of TV before we go upstairs, where I help them get ready for bed, followed by a story in Alice’s room. I’m just coming to the end of the chapter when I hear a key in the door, followed by the sound of my husband walking into the hallway. My heart thuds, and I realise I’m nervous.
‘Daddy!’ The kids jump out of bed and race out of the bedroom and down the stairs. I don’t even bother trying to call them back. They’ll want to jump all over their father for a good five minutes. Instead, I tidy round my daughter’s room, putting away clothes and other bits and pieces. After a while, I hear the clomp of their footsteps coming upstairs. Toby pokes his head around the door.
‘There you are. What are you doing up here?’
‘Hi, just having a tidy up.’ I can’t even look him in the eye. ‘You’re late back.’
‘I know, sorry. Nick wanted to have a drink after work.’
‘Oh? Anything the matter?’
‘The matter?’ he repeats. ‘No, just a drink to unwind. It’s been a long day.’
Jamie and Alice have climbed back into her bed. ‘Can you finish the story, Mum?’ Alice asks.
‘I’ll do it.’ Toby comes and sits on the bed while the kids snuggle up to him. Normally I’d stay too, but I need a few moments to compose myself. Work out how I’m going to handle this. We’re usually so in sync with one another, so open and honest. It feels alien to be suspicious of my husband. He’s my partner in everything. He’s never kept secrets from me before. Never lied.
