CHAPTER TWELVE HARRIET STRATTON

CHAPTER TWELVE

H ARRIET S TRATTON

A UGUST 2002

Harriet sat at the kitchen table and thought about how much she would miss her sister. Ellis had left the day before and Harriet had taken it particularly hard. Her sister's very presence – willing ear, unfailing support and love – had made the biggest difference, made Harriet feel less alone.

‘You're up early?' Hugo spoke the half statement, half question, as he stood in his shorts and his old rowing club t-shirt.

‘Couldn't sleep.'

She glanced over her shoulder and did her best to let her eyes crease into a smile. The look that said, All good here, nothing to worry about; let's just carry on! A look that she had perfected over the last few weeks but one that was built on foundations of deceit. It was a look that was growing harder and harder to make convincing.

‘Kids are still zonked out. Late night last night – that competitive Uno battle got them riled. It makes me laugh how Dilly is such a stickler for the rules and Bear's just happy to win a bit, lose a bit; for him it's the fun in taking part.'

‘Mmm.' She nodded, feeling this was preferable to dissecting his words, wanting to point out that yes, Dilly was a stickler for the rules, as was she. Don't cheat at Uno. Don't cheat on your wife. Don't cheat your family out of their lovely, lovely life. It felt easier to say nothing, better not to start the day in a way that would be challenging, hostile.

‘Thought I'd go for a run up around the Torrs.'

The Torrs was a nature reserve and one of the four main hills of Ilfracombe that provided a spectacular view. He liked to run it alone, music on, said it helped clear his head, and this she more than understood, envying him the opportunity for escape. She found recently that no matter what she did her thoughts were cluttered.

‘Sure.' In truth she wanted him gone, out of sight, relishing the prospect of an hour of quiet this early in the morning, a chance to try to clear her head.

He leaned in and pecked her on the cheek. A hard kiss that saw their cheekbones clash. It was unpleasant almost, and certainly unwelcome. Her instinct was to yell, ‘ Don't fucking kiss me! You kissed her with that mouth! Don't you dare! ' It happened like this sometimes, when she had time alone to overthink and hurt steered her down a dead end where, trapped, the temptation was to howl and pounce like a creature snared. Of course, Hugo would only wonder where this reaction had come from. The aftermath of such an outburst would scare the kids and this thought alone was not enough to justify it. Instead she pushed her feet into the floor and ground her teeth together.

His low hum as he went off to locate his trainers spoke of how oblivious he was to it all. Her whole body shook.

The front door closed quietly behind him and she heard him greet Andrew the window cleaner who rattled up and down Mill Head with his ladder.

‘Lovely morning!'

She heard Hugo's chat through the window. It might have been a lovely morning for him, but for her ... Sinking down into the leather armchair that felt like home, she reached for her diary, wanting to exorcise her thoughts and try to calm the volcano of anger and hurt that bubbled in her gut before the kids surfaced and came foraging for Sugar Puffs.

It was mid-afternoon. Harriet wasn't used to feeling this nervous. She brushed her hair for the third time and resprayed her perfume. It was very different from slinging on a backpack and going off to meet her friends in Ledwick Green with the kids in tow, where they'd scamper off and do their own thing, while the grown-ups talked about school life, drank coffee, shared a cookie, and moaned about how little time they had in their busy lives, before arranging to do the whole thing again. Soon.

This felt a lot more formal, a bit like a test, and she so wanted to pass, knowing it would be that much easier come September if the kids knew at least one person when they started at their new school. She had no idea if Bear and the little girl who was going to be in his class next term would play nicely or even get on. Plus, she had never met the mother – suppose they had nothing to talk about? To be trapped with someone with whom she had zilch in common was a torturous prospect. A wave of unease washed over her. This was another challenge she would not be facing if Hugo had not royally buggered up their lives.

She was trying her best, really trying, yet these thoughts of recrimination just kept sneaking up on her.

Bear's new teacher had suggested a meet-up. It felt very much as if she were being forced into her own play date and her adrenaline was pumping. It wasn't that she was anti-social or even that she didn't miss the companionship that came with being known in her community; it was more the awkwardness she knew she'd feel when it came to all the ordinary and anticipated questions that could get asked:

‘So, what made you move to Ilfracombe, Harriet?'

‘Funny thing, actually; my husband had an affair with my neighbour, Mrs Peterson, and we more or less ran away in the dead of night. Can I get you a cup of tea?'

‘How are you finding your new house?'

‘Claustrophobic, smaller than I'm used to, but also, I suspect, because I'm sharing it with my husband who had an affair with my neighbour, did I mention that? And quite honestly, even if this room were the size of a football field, I'd still feel his proximity. Do you take sugar?'

‘Let me introduce you to some of the other parents and people who live close by, it'd be good for you guys to meet people. What do you say?'

‘Maybe one day, but not yet. As I said, my husband had an affair with my neighbour and we're on shaky ground when we're alone. I can't stand the thought of having to pull together and smile broadly to impress strangers. How about a biscuit?'

It was fair to say she wasn't relishing the prospect.

A knock at the front door removed further opportunity for dread. She dug deep and found a neutral smile that was neither too forced nor too keen.

‘I thought it was you!' The woman smiled and Harriet felt all her worry over the encounter disappear. ‘I said to Miss Knox, I'm sure I've seen a new family in Fore Street. I'm Annalee by the way.' She touched her dainty fingers to her chest.

‘That's us! The new family! I'm Harriet. Please come in!' Self-consciousness cloaked her as she recognised Annalee as one half of the couple she was a little in awe of, spying on them discreetly when possible.

‘And this is Tawrie.' Annalee placed her hand on the slender back of her daughter who stood a little awkwardly to one side, her leg twisting, head down, as if she'd rather be anywhere else.

‘Hello, Tawrie, it's lovely to meet you. Let me give the kids a shout.' She popped her head around the bottom of the winding staircase. ‘Bear, Dills! Tawrie is here! Please come through.' She ushered them into the open-plan sitting room with steps that led down to the kitchen. ‘We're still not quite straight, please don't look at the random boxes or piles of clothes waiting to find a home.'

‘Oh goodness me, Harriet, please don't worry about that. We live with my mother-in-law just further down the hill and I've been there for nearly ten years and the place is in chaos! I'm still unpacking!'

Harriet liked her voice, her calm manner, her kindness.

‘What do you like doing, Tawrie?' The girl was shy, her eyes cast downward and her shoulders hunched forward.

‘I like the beach.' She was sweet, young for her age.

‘And how lucky are you, having so many beautiful beaches right on your doorstep!'

Bear and Dilly burst into the room and she watched Tawrie slink back towards her mother, as if the woman herself was a safe harbour.

‘Hi!' Bear waved.

‘Hello.' Dilly stared at her, her reading book still firmly clenched in her hand, suggesting this was a very unwelcome interruption.

‘Bear and Dilly are starting at your school in September.' Annalee tried to grease the wheels and Harriet was grateful.

‘Do you want to play Uno or we can go on my Nintendo?' Bear asked confidently and Harriet was so proud of his manner and attempt to get to know the girl, aware of how much he missed his old mates, his old house, and that he'd probably rather be playing football in his old back garden.

‘Sure.' Tawrie replied with so little enthusiasm, it didn't bode well for the playing of Uno or any other activity.

‘We can play in my room.' Dilly pointed upstairs and the three trooped up.

‘She's quite shy,' Annalee explained.

‘She'll be fine. Bear and Dilly will fight and she probably won't get a word in, or Dilly will read a book and Bear will bore her to death with his Pokémon card collection. Would you like a tea or coffee?'

‘Oh, tea would be lovely.' Annalee was smiley and Harriet warmed to her.

‘I'd offer you something stronger but it's probably a bit early. Plus, I don't want you to tell Miss Knox that I encouraged you to hit the bottle at three in the afternoon!' She spoke half in jest.

‘I actually don't drink – well, very rarely. I'm not too good at it. One glass and it's a headache all the next day.' Annalee blushed as she shook her head. ‘I can't be doing with that.'

‘Sounds like you need more practice!' she joked, liking the woman's honesty.

‘Dan, my husband, always says I'm a very cheap date!' Annalee joked back, and Harriet liked her instantly. ‘So what brings you to Ilfracombe?'

This was the one question she had been dreading and at the sound of it, she felt a narrowing of her throat, along with the threat of tears. It was as mortifying as it was awkward.

‘Oh my God, Harriet, I didn't mean to pry. I hope I haven't upset you! It's none of my business why you came here. I feel awful! I was just—'

‘No, no.' She took a minute to catch her breath. ‘It's nothing you've done, Annalee, things are just a bit ... Oh, I'm so embarrassed. I'm not usually like this!' Grabbing the kitchen roll, she tore off a square and shoved it under her nose and wiped her eyes.

‘Don't be embarrassed. We all have days like this.' Annalee placed her hand on Harriet's back and just this one small act of camaraderie, of kinship, was enough to set those darn tears flowing again.

‘It's been weeks like this unfortunately.' She sniffed.

‘Why don't we sit down?' Annalee calmly took control as the two sat opposite each other at the kitchen table. Harriet put her elbows on the tabletop and cried for a minute.

‘I'm quite good at keeping it all together, until I'm not and then, blurgh ! It just all tumbles out, like someone pulls my plug.'

Annalee smiled at her. ‘You'll probably feel better after a good blurgh !'

‘I hope so.' She smiled at her sweet guest.

‘It really is none of my business, and I'm not prying, but what I will say is that Ilfracombe is a good place to be if you want to get away from the world. It's small enough to hold you in its embrace, big enough to give you space and there's not much a walk around the headland in a brisk wind can't cure.'

‘You walk a lot, don't you? I've seen you and your husband.'

‘Yes, that's where I recognise you from. I thought you might be holiday renters at first, but you kept popping up. I said to Dan that I thought you might have moved in, and here we are!'

Harriet noted the way her face lit up at the mere mention of her husband.

‘Here we are, with me crying into a soggy bit of kitchen roll!' She held up the near-shredded evidence and they both laughed.

‘This is the first time I've been inside this house.' Annalee looked around the kitchen. ‘It's lovely!'

‘Well, it will be when we're finished.'

Conversation was easy and Harriet could see that Annalee was the kind of woman she could call a friend.

‘And you're right, we do like a good walk. Partly because it's how we get out of the house. Living with my mother-in-law is great, but we need that escape, if you know what I mean.' She rolled her eyes.

‘Goodness, I can't imagine living with my mother-in-law – lovely though she is,' Harriet added with comic effect. Again they both giggled.

‘Freda's great, that's Dan's mum, a real character and very good to us. Don't know how we'd manage financially if it weren't for her opening up her house to us. She's amazing, brilliant with Tawrie, but still, Dan and I crave alone time. On the plus side, we have a built-in babysitter, so we can go out walking!'

Harriet remembered what that felt like: to want nothing other than to be with Hugo, holding Hugo, kissing him, talking to him, uninterrupted ...

‘I'm so glad you came over, Annalee. Recently, I'm not too good with meeting new people but I'm trying very hard not to pass this on to the kids, telling them with false bravado that it'll be fun! All the while my stomach churns with nerves and I dread having made the arrangement in the first place. I can be quite shy; things have ... things have made me quite shy.' It was all she could give away. A hint that she might be struggling but without the detail that would decry Hugo or set tongues wagging – the very thing they had moved away from Ledwick Green to avoid.

‘Me too!' Tawrie's mum leaned forward. ‘I used to be worse – wouldn't say boo to a goose – but Dan ...'

There it was again, that look.

‘... he's incredible. And I think, if someone like him wants to be married to me, then I can't be that bad. I might have something to say after all!'

Harriet noted the sweet blush on her cheeks, and tried hard to smother the unattractive stab of envy that rose in her throat.

‘Well, I think you have plenty of lovely things to say.'

‘You too, Harriet.'

The two shared a look of understanding.

‘Now, how about that cup of tea?'

‘Yes! Smashing!' Annalee clapped her small hands together.

Their guests stayed for a little over an hour, enough time for Harriet to feel the seedlings of friendship sprout and for Bear to decide that he didn't want to spend time with the girl again.

‘She can't even work the controller! And she doesn't like football!' he had moaned.

Harriet had laughed softly. These, according to her boy who was yet to leap on to the threshold of teen life, the two most valuable assets a friend could have. Tawrie had sadly failed on both counts.

It was now early evening. The kids were in bed – Bear no doubt playing a computer game and Dilly with her head in a book – and Hugo was watching a movie in the bedroom. Harriet put a call in to Ellis who failed to answer. Disappointment at this fact was far more galling than it would normally have been, such was her turmoil, her fragility, her loneliness. A quick glance at the clock confirmed it was probably getting close to supper time in her sister's house, and so instead she reached for her diary and sat coiled in a corner of the sofa.

Met the lovely Annalee Gunn today, my neighbour. A woman infatuated and desperately in love with her husband, Dan. I cried like an idiot. She was very sweet to me. I like her. She brought her daughter Tawrie, who according to Bear was the worst playmate, her inability to play on the Nintendo 64 and her lack of interest in football consigning them to never be friends! At least he and Dills will know someone when they start school, even if it's just to nod at in the corridor or to stand next to in the lunch queue. Maybe I'm worrying too much, trying too hard to engineer what should be a natural process. Urgh! It just feels like a big deal because they were so happy at their old school and I hate how unfair this all is. And here we are back to that ...

Her phone rang.

‘Sorry, Hats, I was just in the tub! All okay?' Her sister sounded breathless, rushed.

‘Yes, all fine, just checking in.'

‘Good, you know I worry less if I've heard your voice.'

‘Well, here I am.' She smiled at her sister's mothering.

‘Kids okay?'

‘Yep, in bed.'

‘I wish Maisie was; she's out with an unsuitable boy who has a car! I feel so old – one minute she's trying to balance building blocks and now she's out in a car with a boy who wants to snog her face off!'

Harriet laughed out loud, but the thought of Bear and Dilly doing similar was worrying. Luckily it felt a long way off.

‘You used to be that girl.' She liked to remind her sister.

‘And that's precisely what's worrying me! The poor boy doesn't stand a chance!' They both howled. ‘Although Maisie is much more sensible than I ever was.'

‘In fairness that's quite a low bar.' She ribbed her sister in the way that only she could.

‘Hugo still upset?' Ellis's tone had switched to one of concern. Harriet had told her about his crying alone in empty rooms.

‘Not so much,' she whispered, deciding not to confide how his gaiety was like an invitation to bite, aware that Ellis had little time for Hugo right now and not wanting that to worsen. The realisation that she was shielding him, protecting him, was conflicting. ‘At least I haven't heard it. Things are ticking along, and yes, I'm aware how pithy that sounds, but it's the truth.'

‘I was thinking ...' Her sister paused and Harriet listened hard, as if conscious that Ellis's next words might be important.

‘Thinking what?' she flared, impatiently.

‘Don't know if I should say.'

‘For goodness' sake, just say it! You can't lead with that and then not say!' she tutted and heard Ellis take a breath.

‘I've been thinking a lot about why Hugo has been crying, upset. It's not like him.'

‘Well, thanks for that, Einstein. In case you hadn't noticed we are going through something a little out of the ordinary.' She sighed.

‘All right, calm down. This is why I'm thinking twice about saying anything!' Ellis snapped.

She felt the beginnings of a headache as her sister voiced her justification, and rubbed her temples. ‘Ellis, I'm tired. Just say it and then I can go to bed.'

‘Do you think ...' Her sister swallowed, nervously. ‘... do you think he's distressed because he is genuinely remorseful, regretting every act that has brought you to this point? Or is he crying because he feels trapped, wants out, or even because he's missing Mrs Peterson?'

Harriet opened her mouth to speak but no words came. Instead, she made a noise that was almost a strangled whine. ‘I ...' She stared at the pen in her hand and felt her body shaking. The thought was too monstrous, the consequences of this being true too horrendous to contemplate.

‘Hats, are you still there?'

‘I just . . . I can't even begin to . . .'

‘Just forget it.' She got the distinct feeling Ellis was trying to backtrack.

‘How can I forget that? Do you think that's true? Did you see something or hear something?' With every shred of confidence in her own attractiveness destroyed, her stomach felt hollow.

‘No, nothing. But I only look out for you, Harriet, you and the kids, and I know what type of man Hugo is – never overly emotional and certainly not a crier. It's been on my mind and I just want you to be sure, because I understand forgiving him once, if that's what you want to do and you think you guys can recapture what you had, but if he were to mess you around a second time ...'

She knew her sister's concerns were born out of love, but they cut no less deeply for that.

‘I'm too tired to process this, Ellis.' Her headache turned up a notch.

‘I don't want to put horrible thoughts in your head, but I want you to be sure – you need to be sure – because this is a crossroads and the choices you make and the path you choose have consequences for you and for Bear and Dills.'

‘I know that.' She closed her eyes tightly and willed her sister to stop talking. ‘I need to go. I'm getting a dreadful headache.'

‘Call me tomorrow, promise me?'

‘I promise you.'

‘I love you, Hats, never forget it.'

‘Love you too.'

She sat for a while on the sofa with her sister's ugly suggestions whirring inside her skull.

‘Penny for them?' Hugo caught her unawares as he stood in the doorway.

‘Just ... thinking.' She shrugged and smiled, going overboard to prove the inconsequential nature of her musings. Still pretending, bottling up the fizzing tangle of thoughts and hoping she could keep the cork from exploding!

‘I'm going to grab a glass of red, would you like one?'

‘No, no thanks. I've got a bit of a headache.' She was reminded of her earlier chat with Annalee, who didn't drink. Harriet was certainly less inclined to do so now the kids were back under their roof.

‘My movie is halfway through if you want to join me. I could try to catch you up?' he called from the kitchen.

‘No, but thanks. I might read for a bit.'

‘Cheers!' With a cheery face, he raised the glass of wine and made his way back up the stairs.

The diary fell open at the last page she had written and she let her pen dance across the page.

I know Ellis's words will stay with me ... she's got me asking questions, like why Hugo felt the need to stray in the first place? Is it something I did or didn't do? I mean, let's face it, I talk about us being happy before, content before, hopeful before, but how happy, content and hopeful can he have been if he chose to have sex with Wendy Peterson, and what if when I talk about that life before, I am actually only referring to how I felt? It's possible, if not likely, that we were in fact not as happy as I believed, or wanted to believe. And if this is true, then could it be that too was just pretending?

‘I've come for the bottle! Who am I trying to kid?' His voice took her by surprise. ‘I'd only be up and down the stairs twice more and having to pause the movie is a pain in the—' He watched as she closed her diary quickly. ‘Okay, woman of mystery! What are you writing?'

‘Just notes, jottings. It helps me order my thoughts.' This was almost the truth.

‘Can I help order those thoughts in any way?' His cheery grin all but gone.

‘I've been thinking ...' She decided not to divulge Ellis's part in her doubts. ‘About why you made the choices you did and I guess I still feel gutted because if you hadn't ...'

He leaned on the wall by the door.

‘I think what you want is not only my apology, which I've given many times, but you want me to take all the blame for the situation.' He kicked his heel against the wainscot, his expression one of mild irritation, as if the red wine had stripped him of his mask. Or maybe the easy false nature of their exchanges since the kids had been home had given him mistaken confidence that he no longer had to try quite so hard. Either way it was sobering and galling in equal measure.

‘What do you mean by that?' It was a match to kindling and her hackles rose.

‘I mean, Harriet, that you want it to be solely my fault that this marriage has hit the rocks.'

‘Are you kidding me right now?'

‘No, I'm fucking not!'

His language and tone were incendiary and she was aware of a rising tide of fury that she did not want to erupt with the kids in close proximity; they'd already had to leap for safety once when they left Ledwick Green.

‘Follow me,' she instructed as she jumped up from the sofa.

‘What?' He looked at her like she'd lost her reason.

‘I said, follow me!' She moved closer to him and spoke through gritted teeth and made her way to the smallest room in the house where it was possible to talk privately.