The car began to slow as I pictured Rob’s face: disbelief and disgust at this very different kind of betrayal. I had to know exactly how old this boy was before I said anything to Rob. I needed to be dealing in certainties so I knew what we were facing.
Sitting up a little straighter, I swallowed. A possible minor. Cold stillness settled over me. I began to feel oddly composed. I knew this was not going to go away and I had no intention of trying to pretend it would.
I couldn’t deny being at the Days’. Christy’s call was logged on the practice system; Jen had documented it and put it through to me. I’d called back. The Days had witnessed me in the boy’s presence, while he was wearing school uniform. I would not be able to argue, going forward, that I was unaware of his age.
I was already committed.
I thought back to the Ibiza hotel room as I drove steadily past the Forestry Commission clearing and round the last bend before our cottage. In truth, I remembered very little about the act itself, I’d been so drunk – but we had definitely had sex. Being in the club and kissing him was only marginally clearer in my mind. I could almost hear a barrister asking, in disbelief, ‘and you’re a family GP, Dr Inglis? A mother yourself?’
I reached home, pulling straight into the drive because the gate was open, turned the lights off and sat for a moment in the safe, quiet car. I would wait and not say anything until I’d looked at Christy Day’s record in the morning. Then I would decide what to do and what action I needed to take. There was a chance that he could possibly be as old as seventeen, or even eighteen. Still horrendous, but legal.
The front door opened, and Rob appeared, frowning curiously as he waited. I tried to smile, reaching for my bag and phone, before taking a deep breath and getting out.
‘Too tired to stand up?’ Rob said sympathetically as I reached him. ‘You look shattered. I’ve made you some food and it’s almost ready. Come in.’
He bustled off into the kitchen, and I kicked my shoes into the understairs cupboard before removing my coat and slinging it over the bannisters. True to his word, Rob had laid the table and was carefully dishing up a stir-fry when I appeared in the room.
‘Long day, then?’ he asked conversationally.
I hesitated and, in that split second, despite all of my reasoning, I almost told him the truth, but was distracted by something on the table that caught my eye; I paused, reached over and picked up another picture.
‘I know,’ Rob sighed. ‘More Maisie “happy family” drawings.’
I looked at the smiling Mummy, Daddy and daughters – all holding hands.
‘Do you think she’s picked up on some of the tension over the last three weeks and is trying to communicate her anxiety about it the only way she knows how?’ Rob looked at me worriedly.
Oh Maisie. My eyes flooded with tears. What had I done? I heard myself on the phone to Rachel saying so blithely that Rob and I were going to put all of this behind us and move on. ‘Probably, yes.’
‘To be fair to us, I don’t think it’s only that,’ Rob said. ‘She asked me if she could look at my wedding ring while we were having tea and said: “you and Mummy always wear your married rings”. Like she was checking, or something. We had a chat and it turns out Polly’s parents in her class are getting divorced. We talked about what that meant, and she asked me if I’ll always keep loving you, and you’ll always keep loving me. I said of course. I promised her we won’t get divorced. Because we won’t, Al.’ He looked across at me. ‘Don’t cry. It’s true.’
I nodded and tried to wipe away my tears. Would he still be saying that, if he knew?
We ate tea; we watched some TV. We went to bed and, for the first time since Rob had told me about Hannah, we had quiet, under-the-duvet sex.
‘I love you,’ Rob gasped, afterwards.
‘I love you too,’ I said, and I meant it. It was one of those moments where actually saying the words wasn’t enough to explain the depth of what I felt for him.
* * *
I admit that I initiated sex that evening, which does not prove I was ‘excited’ at having seen the boy again. I wanted to be close to my husband. I wanted to pretend everything was going to be all right, but mostly I wanted to pretend that none of it had happened in the first place.
3
Dr Alexandra Inglis
Unsurprisingly, I didn’t really sleep and was up well before Maisie and Tilly, anxious to get out of the house so I could go straight to work and look at Christy Day’s record. By half past seven, we were strapping the kids in the car; breakfast done, packed lunch for Tilly made, teeth brushed, shoes on.
‘You’re sure you’ve got everything?’ Rob asked doubtfully, bending over to kiss Tilly. ‘Have a lovely day, sweetheart.’ He straightened up and closed the door, calling across the car roof to me, ‘you picked up Maisie’s reading bag?’
‘We’re good to go.’ I smiled back at him tightly. Come on, come on…
He walked round to kiss Maisie. ‘You have a good day too, darling. We’ll do something fun tomorrow all of us, shall we?’
‘Minor Mania?’ they both said instantly, and Rob rolled his eyes. ‘Soft play? Oh good. Well, we’ll see.’
He closed Maisie’s door, and I began to climb into the front seat.
‘Hey, hang on.’ He put a hand out to stop me, leant over and kissed my mouth, briefly.
‘Sorry. I’m only rushing because I’m duty doctor today and I want to get in early to get sorted before the chaos,’ I said quickly. Somehow trying to explain why I hadn’t thought to say goodbye properly only made it appear even more significant.
‘It’s OK. Long week, I know. Nearly there, Al. Almost the weekend.’ He gave me an encouraging smile.
We were being so achingly polite it hurt.
I quickly got in the car and barely waved as Rob watched us pull off up the drive.
‘Right, off to breakfast club we go!’
‘Where’s Daddy working today?’ Maisie asked.
‘At home,’ I said, looking both ways and turning left.
‘Who’s getting us from school?’
‘Me, sweetheart. I’ll come and get you from after-school care.’
Maisie slumped. ‘Again? I don’t want to go. Mummy, you won’t ever take off your married rings, will you?’
My heart skipped a beat but, without a moment’s pause, I replied brightly: ‘No, darling, of course I won’t. I promise.’
Well, what else could I say?
We hurried into breakfast club in the nursery attached to the main school, to find several other stressed parents herding their children into the cloakrooms too.
‘Morning Tilly! Hi Maisie!’ said Melissa, one of the other mums I saw regularly at drop off. She was stood behind her son Zack, who was slowly fumbling with his zip. She shook her head at me. ‘So slow’ she mouthed, looking pained, and glanced at her watch. Zack glanced up at her, and she smiled brightly: ‘Keep going, darling, you’re doing really well!’ As my girls wriggled out of their coats, let them slip to the floor and galloped off to the main room before I could stop them, Zack finally succeeded and passed the pesky jacket to Mel before running off to join the others.
‘I hate rushing him all the time, but to get out of here, back to the car park and then get over to the office…’ She stepped back as I bent over to grab the girls’ coats from the floor, then we both hung the stuff up together. ‘When did life get so busy, Ally?’
‘I know. It sucks.’
‘Morning! Morning!’ Another mum, Catrin, burst in, grappling with slipping lunch boxes, a PE kit and two coats. ‘Thank God it’s Friday. I had Harry dressed in a Mike the Knight costume until ten minutes ago when I realised I’d got the date wrong and their castle trip is next week. That is right, isn’t it, Al? I lost the “advance notice of dates for the rest of term” letter the first week back.’
I smiled. ‘The castle trip is definitely next Friday. I’ll Whatsapp you the letter when I get home tonight.’