Read Mad About You Online

Authors: Sinead Moriarty

Mad About You (32 page)

36
 

On Sunday morning as I was giving the children breakfast, while Babs lay in bed with the door shut, her earplugs in and her eye mask on, my phone rang. It was Henry.

‘Morning, Emma. Hope I’m not disturbing you,’ he said, politeness itself.

I grabbed the heaped spoon of sugar Yuri was about to pour over his Rice Krispies. ‘No, not at all. How are you?’

‘Fine, thank you. So … uhm … well, I’m calling about James.’

I stood up to walk to the corner of the room for some privacy. As I got up, Yuri grabbed the spoon back and drowned his cereal in sugar.

‘Emma?’

I turned my back on Yuri’s sugar mountain and concentrated on my phone call. ‘Sorry, I’m here.’

‘Well, the thing is, I hope I’m not overstepping the mark, but James called yesterday and he said things had got a bit sticky with all this stalking business. He’s very troubled by it.’

Henry sounded as if he was addressing a room full of lawyers. He was clearly very uncomfortable with this conversation. I thought it was sweet of him to try.

I lowered my voice so the children wouldn’t hear me. ‘I’m sure he is, Henry, but I now have proof of the affair. I know that James has been lying to me and cheating on me.’

‘He claims he is totally innocent. I have to say he really sounded very upset. I’m inclined to believe him. James has never been the sort of chap to lie. He says he has no idea
what’s going on and that all of this is as shocking to him as it is to you.’

I sat down on the arm of Babs’s couch. ‘I found her knickers in his drawer,’ I whispered. ‘Even you would have to agree the evidence is pretty damning.’ I used language Henry could relate to.

‘Well, indeed.’ He coughed. ‘But James is adamant that he’s innocent and as much a victim of this person as you are.’

‘He’s lying.’

‘Why don’t you go and talk to him? It’s important that you meet up to discuss all of this. At least give him the chance to tell you his side of the story. It’s only fair, Emma. He’s a good man. Let him have his say. He’ll be home from Toulouse at eight o’clock this evening. He really wants to see you. I think you should hear him out. Remember the stalker case I told you about? That man was innocent. I believe James is too.’

I chewed my lip. ‘I’ll think about it, Henry, OK? Right now, I really don’t want to see him, but if I calm down later I might go over to the house. But I’m not promising anything.’

‘Excellent.’ Henry sounded relieved. His duty as mediator was over. He didn’t have to listen to me ranting on about knickers in drawers any longer. ‘Well, I’ll be off. I have to take Thomas to his riding lesson.’

‘’Bye, Henry. And thanks for calling.’

I hung up and jumped when I saw Lara standing directly behind me. ‘Don’t sneak up on me like that. Have you been there long?’

‘You saided, “He’s lying.” Who’s lying, Mummy?’

‘No one. You shouldn’t be listening to my conversations anyway,’ I scolded her.

‘I’m bored. I want to go home.’ Yuri threw himself onto the couch.

‘Me too. Babs has no dolls,’ Lara moaned.

‘There’s nothing to play with here,’ Yuri grumbled.

Lara’s voice rose: ‘I want my Disco Barbie.’

‘I want my Batman car,’ Yuri shouted.

The door to Babs’s bedroom flew open. ‘I want sleep!’ she shouted, shaking her sleep mask and earplugs at us. ‘Can you stop shouting and go to the park or something?’

As she turned to go back to bed, her buzzer rang. It was Mum and Dad. I decided to get the children out of the apartment, so we took them to the zoo. As we walked around in the cold, staring at shivering tigers and miserable meerkats, I tried to decide what to do about James. He had sent twenty texts begging me to meet him and hear his side of the story.

‘Penny for your thoughts,’ Dad said.

‘James wants to see me tonight to talk. I’m just not sure I want to see him.’

Dad linked his arm through mine. It felt nice, but a bit strange. We weren’t arm-linkers. He had never done more than pat me on the back before. He was an old-fashioned man who felt that shaking hands was quite sufficient. He hated having to kiss his friends’ wives on the cheek when he met them. He thought it was fake and that we should ‘leave all that rubbish to the French’.

As we strolled on through the zoo, he said quietly, ‘Marriage is like a business, Emma. You only get out of it what you put in. James is a decent man. He may have slipped up, in which case I’m very disappointed in him, but I don’t think he’s the type of man to do it twice. You didn’t marry a philanderer, you married a solid man who values family.’

‘That’s who I thought I married,’ I said. ‘But it seems I was wrong.’

‘I think you should go and talk to James. He’s earned that
much after nine years with you. Let him explain what happened and then make a decision. You’re a great girl, Emma. You’ve worked very hard to create your little family. Don’t throw it all away unless you’re absolutely sure you can’t make it work. Hear the man out.’

I gulped back tears. Dad had never told me I was great before or acknowledged how much I had done to create my family. I was touched that he was telling me now. And I knew, deep down, that what he was saying was true – you couldn’t be married to someone for nine years and then not listen to them about something like this. I knew that my indecision was really fear: I was afraid that I would go there, listen to James telling me about some steamy affair and have my heart completely broken.

‘OK, Dad, I’ll go and see him. But I tell you now, if I find out he was having an affair the whole time and lying to me, it’s over.’ I looked up at him. ‘I may end up back living with you and Mum.’

He stopped dead in his tracks. His arm shot out of mine. ‘Now let’s not be hasty. You need to try to make your marriage work. You can’t be running home to us. We don’t really have the space for you and the kids anyway. I’ve an office in Sean’s old bedroom now and your mother has turned your bedroom into a gym. We have an exercise bike and one of those big balls and we’re getting a treadmill this Christmas.’

What? My bedroom turned into a gym? And I noticed that while my room and Sean’s were being used for their entertainment, there had been no mention of Babs’s being touched at all.

‘What about Babs’s bedroom?’

Dad rolled his eyes. ‘I’ve no doubt we’ll end up with her back home. This presenting thing won’t last and, sure, what man would have her? She’s pure mad.’

I felt a bit better. At least they weren’t keeping her room as a shrine to their favourite child.

‘Well, if I do need to come and stay for a bit, I suppose we’ll all just have to sleep in Babs’s room.’

Dad couldn’t hide his alarm. ‘Hopefully it won’t come to that. Go and sort things out with James.’

Mum came over to us. ‘I’m frozen. Really and truly, the zoo at this time of year is not a good idea. Come on, I can’t watch another poor animal shivering. Let’s find a coffee shop and defrost.’

We headed off in the direction of the café. Yuri and Lara put their little gloved hands in mine and, as I looked down at their sweet, innocent faces, I knew I had to try to save my marriage for their sakes. I’d go and hear what James had to say.

37
 

As eight o’clock drew closer, I began to get nervous. Babs poured me a huge glass of wine, then put me into a taxi. ‘Good luck – and if he is guilty, give him hell.’ My stomach lurched. I was about to have a conversation with my husband about his cheating. After tonight, I might be a single mother of two. I could be raising my kids on my own, sleeping alone every night, planning the future alone. Alone.

When the taxi pulled up outside, the lights were on in the house, so James was obviously back from Toulouse. I paid the driver and walked up to the front door, where I shakily put my key into the lock. I stepped inside and … What the hell? The hall was strewn with red rose petals that led all the way up the stairs. I could hear Céline Dion’s ‘My Heart Will Go On’
playing loudly. James knew I hated that song. I suddenly felt overcome with anger. Did he really think rose petals leading to the bedroom and a stupid love song were going to solve our problems? Did he picture me coming here, being transported by Céline bloody Dion and falling into bed with him, everything forgotten?

I stomped up the stairs, crushing the rose petals as I went. I stormed across the landing and flung open the bedroom door, ready to give him a piece of my mind. I stepped inside, and stopped dead.

The room was lit entirely with candles and there was an overpowering smell of cheap perfume. In the dim lighting, I suddenly became aware of a person lying on the bed. I was about to shout at him, but then, with a cold shock, realized it
was a half-naked woman. She was lying on her back, wearing nothing but a red see-through bra and crotchless knickers. The ones I’d found in the drawer. I was too stunned to say anything.

‘James, at last!’ she whispered. ‘I’ve been waiting for you.’ Then she saw me and froze. We stared at each other.

Slowly, I reached out my hand and felt along the wall. I flicked the switch and light flooded the room. I blinked.

Oh, my God!

‘Emma!’ she gasped, and sat up quickly, grabbing a pillow to cover herself.

‘Claire!’ I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach, as if every breath had been knocked out of me. My brain just kept repeating one phrase over and over:
This cannot be happening.

Claire shook her hair, which was all wavy and bouncy. She was wearing bright red lipstick and, having recovered from her initial shock, a defiant pout. ‘I’m waiting for James. Get out.’

‘But how …’ My mind was still trying to catch up with the reality of what I was seeing. Claire! Sweet, innocent, shy, retiring Claire was lying spread-eagled on my bed, in red lingerie, waiting to have sex with my husband.

‘Get out,’ she repeated.

I looked around the room. I thought I was going to vomit. Had my husband actually done the most clichéd thing in the world and had sex with the nanny?

‘Was it all you? The texts, the sex toys, the photo?’

She smirked at me. ‘Yes. You need to go now, Emma. James will be back soon and he’ll be very angry if he finds you here spoiling things for us.’

I gazed at her, lovely little Claire. She looked like a hooker.

‘Why would you do this to me?’ I said, in a voice that didn’t even sound like me. I felt as if I was swimming under water: everything was blurred.

‘It’s not about you, Emma. It’s about James and me. He loves me, he wants me and you need to go.’

Did James love her? Had they been having sex behind my back the whole time? The thought of it sent a shot of pure rage through me. In that second, I hated both of them.

‘How could you?’ I screamed, my fists clenched.

Claire shrugged. ‘James has been in love with me for ages. You don’t deserve him. I do.’

‘How dare you say that, you little bitch? I was so good to you. How long has this been going on?’ I demanded, averting my eyes from Claire’s boobs, which jiggled every time she moved.

‘Ages. James loves me. It’s Fate. We’re meant to be together. I’m going to look after him so well. I’ll be a way better wife than you. We’ll go to the Liverpool matches together, we’ll take the kids to Disneyland –’

Kids? Take my kids to Disneyland? Was that her plan – to slot in and take my place?

‘Over my dead body,’ I spat out. Then I lunged at her.

She was fast. She grabbed me by the hair and yanked me onto the bed. We wrestled. She punched me in the stomach. I twisted her arm. I screamed as her knee smashed into my cheekbone.

The door burst open and I felt a strong arm pulling me back. It was James. He pushed me behind him and looked down.

‘Jesus Christ!’ he exclaimed. ‘Claire?’ He looked utterly bewildered. ‘What on earth is going on?’

‘Why don’t you tell me?’ I shouted at him. ‘Claire here says you’ve been at it for weeks, you bastard. How could you? The goddamn
nanny
? I mean, for Christ’s sake, James.’

James looked at Claire. ‘What in God’s name are you doing? Have you lost your mind?’

Claire shuffled forward in her underwear and grabbed James’s hand. ‘Come on, baby, I know you love me.’

James recoiled from her touch.

‘Tell her, James, tell her it’s me you want.’

I was standing in the corner of the room, shaking. I watched as James leant down, his face bright red with rage. ‘I have no idea why you think I have any interest in you. You must be mad. Now put some clothes on and get out of my sight before I call the police.’

Claire grabbed his hand. ‘Why are you lying? I saw you looking at my body. I saw you watching me, wanting me. You said my cooking and my ironing were amazing. You fell for me because I look after you so well and because I’m so great with your kids. It’s OK, James, you can admit it now. I want you too. We’re soulmates.’

James yanked his hand away. ‘Claire, listen to me very carefully. All of this is in your head. I am in love with my wife, Emma. I have never, ever looked at you in any kind of way. Now, put your clothes on and get out of our house.’

‘How can you say that?’ Claire looked like she was going to start crying. ‘How can you stay with her? Is it because of the kids? You’re such a good dad, I know you love them, but I’ll be a great mum. Emma treats you like dirt, but I’ll make you so happy. Our life will be so great, just you and me and the children …’

I felt as if my head was going to explode. I reached over and grabbed her by the arm, pulling her off the bed. ‘You will not destroy this family.’

Claire wrenched herself free of my grasp and went over to James. She put her arm around his neck and tried to kiss him. He tried to push her away, but she clung to him.

‘James, I love you and I know you love me too.’

‘Get your hands off me, you freak. Do you have any idea
what you’ve done to us? I … I can’t believe …’ James prised her fingers from his neck and pushed her back.

Claire stood in front of him, eyes blazing. ‘What about all the looks you gave me? All the conversations we had about football. How you told me my lasagne was amazing and my ironing. You do love me, I know you do. Just admit it. ADMIT IT!’

I grabbed her arm. ‘GET OUT!’ I screamed.

‘But, James,’ she pleaded, ‘we’re going to be happy. We’re going to get married and have a baby boy.’

‘What?’ James was incredulous.

I looked into Claire’s eyes. My God, she was completely insane. All this time I thought she was just shy and lacking in confidence, but she was actually dangerous. I had to get her out of our home. I couldn’t stand the sight of her. I wanted to fling her out of the window.

‘James,’ I roared, ‘just grab her and push her
out.

James dragged her down the stairs, kicking and screaming. I found her backpack beside the bed. As I leant down to pick it up, I suddenly noticed that none of my photos were on my bedside locker. None of my books were there either. My shoe rack was empty. I opened the wardrobe. It, too, was empty.

I ran down the stairs. James was struggling to get her to the front door and she was clinging to him, sobbing and demanding.

‘Where are all my things?’ I screamed at her. ‘Every trace of me is gone, photos, clothes, books. Were you trying to erase me?’

‘You don’t exist any more. I’m the wife. I’m the mum.’

‘Where are Emma’s things?’ James bellowed.

‘In the Oxfam shop, where they belong,’ Claire said, triumphant. ‘Don’t you see, James? We’ve got rid of her. She’s
gone, like she was never even here. We can be so happy now that she’s not around.’

‘Jesus Christ,’ he breathed.

I opened the front door and James shoved her out. I threw her backpack and her coat after her and slammed the door shut. We stood staring at the door for a few seconds. Then I crumpled into a heap on the stairs. James double-locked the door and came over to sit beside me. ‘Are you OK?’ he whispered.

‘Claire.’ I shook my head. ‘I never would have thought …’

‘Neither did I,’ James said, rubbing my back.

I was shaking badly. James clasped me to him. ‘Emma, you’re shivering. I think we need a drink.’ He held out his hand. I took it. He pulled me up, walked me into the lounge and sat me down on the sofa. Adrenaline was still pumping through my veins.

‘Claire?’ I shook my head.

James handed me a large glass of brandy. ‘I’m in too much shock to take this in.’ He sat down heavily beside me and took a long drink of his brandy.

‘But why would she think you were in love with her? You must have flirted with her. Did you?’

‘Come on, Emma, you saw me with her – I barely spoke to her. Which was why I was pretty bloody surprised to see her laid bare on my bed.’

I drank half the brandy in one go, wincing as it fired down my throat and into my chest. ‘So she sent all the texts and the sex toys,’ I said, still unable to quite believe it. ‘I never would have imagined she had that kind of a mind. She must be really messed up. Do you think she’s dangerous?’

James ran his hands through his hair. ‘I don’t know. I hope not. She never threatened us with violence but, yeah, obviously she’s very messed up.’

I felt my eyes welling with tears. ‘God, James, the kids,’ I said hoarsely.

James put his arm around me. ‘I don’t think we need to worry about that. I think she genuinely loved them. You can see she did them no harm. It was you, unfortunately, darling, that she wanted out of the way. Not the children.’

‘I thought she was this poor, damaged girl who needed her confidence boosted. Could I have been any more of an idiot?’ I felt ill at the thought that this was all my doing – I had hired her, having failed to pick up on what must be a serious mental illness. And I’d left her with the children. I sobbed into James’s shoulder. ‘Why did she want to destroy me like that?’

‘I don’t know,’ James said, sounding tearful too. ‘This has been the worst time of our lives together,’ he said, pulling me tight to his chest. ‘But it’s over now, Emma. She’s gone, and there will be no more texts or threats. I know it’s hard to take in right now, but at least we know what’s been happening. We can now put all this awfulness behind us and get on with our lives.’

I sobbed into his chest, but my mind was reeling. Could we just move past this whole episode and pretend it had never happened? Could we move on without a backward glance? I wasn’t so sure. I wanted to believe we could, but I felt changed by it. I wasn’t the same innocent Emma who had moved to London. Our marriage had been battered and bruised. Everything was different.

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