Forgive Me (50 page)

‘They both loved her,’ he said
in an exasperated voice. ‘It isn’t all about you, Eva.’

She should of course have agreed that he was
right, because she knew he was. But instead of admitting it, she
brought up other minor grievances – such as his mother saying, ‘She should
forget all about it.’

‘As if I can,’ she screamed at
him like a madwoman. ‘It’s there in my head every day. It’s not like a
light switch I can turn off.’

Phil’s mother tended to rub her up the
wrong way. It wasn’t that she was nasty; she was just blunt, and she had very
fixed opinions about almost everything. Eva felt she wished her son had found himself
someone without emotional baggage. Mrs Marsh wasn’t worldly enough to understand
such a phrase, her words would be that she wanted someone ‘normal’ for
him.

That time, Phil just put his arms around her
and cuddled her until she cried, said she was sorry and they made it up. But it was
still at the back of her head. She tried to explain to Olive how she felt when her old
boss came down to London and they met up for a meal. But Olive wasn’t overly
sympathetic either. She just said that Eva had to look at the positive things in her
life, like Phil, and stop torturing herself with all the negatives ones.

Eva held off sending Sophie and Ben copies
of Flora’s statement because of Phil. He believed they were too young to cope with
such distressing information, and it was likely to send them both off the rails. She
hadn’t agreed with him, and that caused another argument just before
Christmas.

‘You just want to punish them for not
believing Andrew tried to kill you,’ Phil flung at her. ‘But we
haven’t any proof he set the fire, have we? I agree that they ought to see that
statement, but not now when Ben is in his first year at uni, and Sophie is already a
mess. Give them a chance to grow up a bit.’

That was the point when this awful sinking
feeling began. She was convinced that Ben and Sophie ought to know what
their father was capable of, so they would be wary of him. And she couldn’t
believe Phil would interpret her anxiety for them as spite.

Myles was due to be in court in early
December, and she was dreading having to attend – even though the police had said it
would be all over in minutes, as he’d pleaded guilty. Three days before the
hearing she told the police she was dropping the charges against him. She thought it
would be a relief, but instead she just felt cowardly and weak.

Phil’s mother looked like she was
sucking lemons when Eva told her what she’d done. She didn’t actually
comment, but Eva got the idea Mrs Marsh thought she’d done it out of guilt because
she had led Myles on.

When Christmas arrived – the first one away
from her brother and sister – she felt very sad. She went through the motions of
decorating the flat, buying Christmas food and presents for Phil and his family, but her
thoughts kept turning back to previous Christmases. There wasn’t even a card from
Freya, let alone one from Ben and Sophie, and though Phil claimed to understand how she
felt, he kept pointing out that his family were hers now. But they weren’t her
family. They had no shared history, and his mother’s tactless remark – that from
what she’d heard about Ben, Sophie and Freya, Eva was better off without them –
really hurt.

In mid-January, when the shop grew quiet
after the New Year Sale, that was when she began to find it increasingly difficult to
cope. It was cold and wet. The washing machine broke down and flooded the kitchen one
day, and that made her hysterical. The noise of traffic seemed too loud, the crowded
tube in the morning made her panic, she craved solitude. But then when Phil went away to
work, she felt frightened on her own.

She knew Phil was growing irritated by her
moods and
negativity, but she just couldn’t snap out of it. She
felt so tired, she would go to bed the minute she’d eaten the evening meal. And on
her day off during the week, and Sunday, all she did was lie on the sofa watching
television. She didn’t want to make love any more; she gave up caring about her
appearance, and even keeping the flat clean and tidy. She wasn’t interested in how
the work at her house was going. If she was truthful, she didn’t really care about
anything.

To be fair to Phil, he did try to jolly her
along by saying they could go on a holiday to somewhere warm once the house was finished
and up for sale. But she couldn’t even find the will or enthusiasm to collect any
brochures from a travel agent. She got the idea into her head that the only thing which
would make her feel better was if Ben and Sophie knew the truth about their father.
Finally, two weeks ago, without telling Phil, she sent the statements off to them.

Because she was afraid Andrew might
intercept Sophie’s copy, she sent them both to Ben at his address in Leeds with a
covering letter asking him to give Sophie hers, and explained where the original was
found. She said how sorry she was that they had to find out the truth about their father
like this. But even though she knew now she had no blood tie to them, she would always
think of them as her brother and sister. Her final message to them was that they
mustn’t allow Andrew to get them to sign over their half of the house to him. She
pointed out that Flora had gone through hell to keep them all secure. Therefore, it was
their duty to ensure they honoured her wishes.

Yet almost as soon as she’d posted the
envelope, she’d panicked and wished she hadn’t. Was her motive just spite,
as Phil had suggested, because they hadn’t believed their father had set the fire?
What she had perceived as an act of a loving and concerned elder sister suddenly seemed
callous
and irresponsible. As her anxiety grew, she withdrew even
further from Phil, and she sensed he was reaching the end of his tether.

The row they’d had this morning had
brought all this home to her. He’d brought her a cup of tea, as he always did. But
as he went to put it down on the bedside table he tripped and spilled the tea everywhere
– on the bedclothes and the carpet.

‘I tripped on those magazines,’
he said accusingly, pointing to the ones on the floor. ‘Do you have to leave them
there?’

She said something about him leaving dirty
clothes on the bathroom floor for her to pick up. And suddenly they were off, shouting
at one another.

‘I haven’t seen you pick up
anything for weeks,’ he yelled. ‘Yours or mine. We haven’t had a
decent meal, a night out, or even a real conversation either. It’s like living
with a zombie.’

‘You’re never here to do any of
those things,’ she screamed at him. ‘What’s the point in me cooking
something nice if you don’t come back until after nine at night?’

He exploded with rage then. ‘Anyone
would think I was down the pub. I’m at your house, doing it up, for God’s
sake! I don’t know what to do with you any more. I thought we were going to be a
team, but it’s more like I’m your handyman, here to sort everything for you
so you can lie around feeling sorry for yourself. My friends have all worked their socks
off to get the house finished, and you can’t even be bothered to go along there
and see their work!’ he roared at her. ‘Every time I go there I have to make
excuses for you, but I’m running out of them now. I wouldn’t blame them at
all if they thought you were just a money-grabbing bitch who can’t wait to pocket
the huge profit you’ll make when you sell it. What happened to the girl who used
to help, who made the guys tea and cared about someone other than herself?
My mum takes more interest in the house than you do. She even came
over on the bus last Sunday to bring some stew for our lunch. She was shocked that you
weren’t there helping.’

‘I bet that made her day!’ Eva
shouted back. ‘It would confirm what she’s always thought – that I’m
not good enough for you. I bet she even told you that you should get half the money from
the sale of the house, and get shot of me.’

The moment those words came out of her
mouth, Eva knew she’d gone too far. She had never seen Phil look so angry.

His face darkened and his eyes flashed
dangerously. ‘You bitch!’ he exclaimed. ‘You must think that’s
what I’m after, or you wouldn’t have said it. As for my mother, she was just
being kind bringing some stew round. She wanted to please both of us, to help in the
house if she could. If you can twist that into something nasty, then I think it’s
time we called it a day.’

He left then, slamming the front door so
hard it was a wonder the glass panel didn’t break.

It was fear that he would leave her that had
made her decide to meet him this afternoon at Pottery Lane. Any other man would have
taken himself off to the pub, or even to his mother’s for Sunday lunch and some
sympathy, and he certainly wouldn’t have gone back to Pottery Lane after the
things she’d said to him. But Phil would never leave a job half done, however
angry he was with her.

Besides, Brian would be there, completing
the new kitchen. And aside from trying to make amends with Phil, she needed to thank
Brian for all the work he’d done on her behalf.

She did feel very ashamed that she
hadn’t been there since early January, but she just hadn’t been able to face
the cold, the mess and seeing Brian too. She knew a perceptive man
like him would notice she wasn’t herself and would ask Phil about it.

She hated the idea of them discussing her
state of mind.

As she opened the door at No. 7, she was
greeted by loud male laughter. To her surprise Patrick was there with Brian and Phil,
and she felt a momentary stab of jealousy that they were all happy when she was feeling
miserable.

‘Eva!’ Patrick came towards her,
smiling a warm welcome. ‘I only came round on the off chance Phil might be here,
and now I’ve got you both. How lucky is that?’

Patrick had gone to America for a month in
late January. Although he had phoned a couple of times since he got back, they
hadn’t met up.

‘Hi, Patrick,’ she replied,
trying hard to smile. ‘Lovely to see you.’

‘Isn’t this great now?’
Patrick waved his arms at the room. ‘It’s so huge.’

When Eva had last seen it the men were
knocking down the wall to the garage. There were metal posts holding up the ceiling,
with debris everywhere, so it was difficult to imagine what it would be like when it was
finished. Patrick was right; it was a huge room now, with two windows either side of the
front door. The kitchen area was at the front by the left-hand window. A new, very
attractive pine staircase came down against the opposite wall, leaving what seemed a
vast open living space with new, even larger patio doors on to the garden.

She knew she should be jubilant that it
looked so wonderful, yet she couldn’t feel anything but resentment that Phil had
become far more interested in the project than he was in her.

‘The kitchen looks beautiful,
Brian,’ Eva said, knowing
she must say something positive or
risk alienating him too. It was pale golden beech and it had everything: integrated
fridge-freezer, washing and dishwashing machines, even a cooker hood that was ducted to
the outside. ‘I don’t believe this one fell off a lorry!’

‘Sadly not.’ He grinned.
‘If you want the top price for this place you have to put in top-quality fittings.
But why are you looking so sad today? Come here and have a hug.’

‘I’m not sad, just tired,’
she lied and let him hug her.

Phil hadn’t greeted her at all. She
could hardly blame him after the things she’d said that morning. To imply he was
after her money was appalling, and completely untrue. Phil hadn’t got a mercenary
bone in his body.

She looked across at him fixing door handles
on the cupboards; he hadn’t even looked round to acknowledge she was there. But
she couldn’t apologize to him in front of Brian and Patrick – and she was afraid
he wouldn’t accept her apology either.

‘You’ve done a wonderful job
here, Brian,’ she said, hoping he hadn’t noticed how Phil was with her.
‘I’m sorry I haven’t been round lately, you must think I’m
really unappreciative.’

‘I expect you find being on your feet
all day in the shop tiring,’ Brian replied, his voice oozing sympathy. ‘By
the time you get out of there, I expect the last thing you want is a walk down cold dark
streets to come here.’

She saw Phil looking at her, his expression
so cold it sent shivers down her spine.

‘I’ll just go and look
upstairs,’ she said. ‘Then I’ll make you all some tea. The staircase
is fabulous, by the way.’

She scooted up the stairs to inspect the
newly painted bedrooms. Phil never normally brooded about things she said in the heat of
the moment. But then she’d never said
anything as bad as that
before. She would have to try to make it up to him tonight.

Phil had skimmed all the walls and ceilings
upstairs and painted the walls cream. There were smart new doors too. When she went into
the small bedroom she felt a stab of sorrow to see the teddy bear frieze had gone, even
though she knew it had to go. She looked out of the window to see that the garden was
bare aside from one lone daffodil. She remembered that she’d intended to plant at
least a hundred when they got back from Scotland last year. That was just another bitter
reminder that the fire had spoiled all their plans.

‘Brian was right, you do look
sad.’ Patrick’s voice came from behind her. ‘What’s
wrong?’

Eva wheeled round. ‘It was a year ago
today that Mum died. And today is my real birthday,’ she said. ‘I
didn’t think it would affect me, but I woke up thinking about it this
morning.’

He came up to her and put his arms around
her. ‘I didn’t know it was today. But maybe I tuned into something, because
I felt I had to come here this afternoon, and I hoped you’d be here. What’s
wrong between you and Phil? And don’t say “nothing” – I could sense
the bad vibes.’

She leaned into his shoulder, very tempted
to admit she felt like an overwound clock and that the spring was likely to break any
minute. But she couldn’t admit such things – not to him, or anyone.