Page 28 of All the Things We Never Knew

‘Gray’s a complex man. You know that better than I do, of course. There will be reasons why he’s acted the way he has. That’s not to say it’s excusable, but it might be understandable.’

‘What reasons could there possibly be?’ I demanded. ‘Okay, our marriage wasn’t perfect. But whose is? I’ve put the effort in. I gave up work to sort out our house renovation and raise our family. I put up with him working crazy hours and then going out and getting plastered afterwards. I supported him when he went on that massive health kick and lived on chicken breasts and fizzy water for months. I encouraged him when he took up cycling, even though it meant him swanning off for hours every weekend and leaving me with the kids. I never…’

I trailed off. I’d been going to say, I never resented it. But I had, and I knew that Orla would be able to hear that in my voice. And Gray would have resented me resenting him. Contrast that with the unconditional adoration he’d presumably found in Laurel, and – well. I’d got what was coming to me.

‘Good men don’t go running off after other women just because they’re a bit bored with their wives,’ I finished lamely.

‘I’m not trying to justify what he’s done. But I wonder whether, in time, you might come to understand it. And in the meantime…’

I nodded slowly. Of course, she was right.

I was going to have to accept Laurel’s presence. That, and make sure that whatever total sum of happiness was left in my husband’s life would at least come partly from me and the kids, and not all from her.

FIFTEEN

LAUREL

‘I feel like the fat, speccy short-arse at a speed-dating event,’ complained Harry, my colleague and closest work friend. ‘There’s no way any of these kids will come and talk to us.’

‘Come on, chin up,’ I said. ‘There must be two hundred kids here. Surely at least a couple of them are interested in a career in nursing.’

‘I wouldn’t bet on it.’ Harry ran his hands through his glossy blond quiff and adjusted the NHS lanyard that hung round his neck. ‘Have you scoped out the competition?’

I had. ‘True. There’s an investment bank over there, an AI software development outfit over the other side…’

‘A luxury hotel chain two stalls away.’

‘And just in case any of these little darlings do fancy working in a caring profession…’

‘We’ve got the Royal Veterinary College right next to us.’

We laughed.

‘See?’ Harry rolled his eyes theatrically. ‘No chance. We’re like Cinderella if she went to the ball pre the fairy godmother’s intervention.’

For the hundredth time, I rearranged the stack of blue-and-white ‘Choose Nursing’ leaflets on the shelf behind me and fixed the bright, encouraging expression back on my face.

‘Still,’ I said, ‘at least it’s got us off the wards for the day.’

Harry brightened. ‘And at least we get to knock off early. I’ve a hot date tonight. A man I met in the actual flesh, can you believe it? And not even off Grindr. He’s a barista. Our eyes met over my long black and the rest is history – or I hope so, at any rate.’

‘You can serve caramel lattes at your wedding,’ I suggested.

‘And bacon baps,’ Harry said. ‘He gave me one on the house. That’s when I got the bottle to ask him out. His name’s Moussa and he’s from the Ivory Coast. He’s ever so fanciable.’

As Harry continued to describe Moussa’s hotness, I felt my thoughts drifting into melancholy. The world he was in – one of hope and excitement, of blind faith that the One was out there somewhere, just waiting for you to find them – felt impossibly remote to me, like it had been in a different lifetime when I was last there.

Harry lowered his voice. ‘How’s your fellow doing, anyway, Laurel?’

I sighed. ‘He has good days and bad days. You know how it goes. But I try and tell myself that every day’s a gift. All the guff we tell our patients’ families. But it’s kind of different when it’s you.’

‘You’re not buying your own hype,’ Harry chided, but his voice was kind. ‘Tell me again about your first date. I love that story.’

‘It wasn’t a date,’ I objected. ‘Come on, give me some credit. I knew he had a wife and I’m⁠—’

‘Not that kind of girl.’ Harry raised his eyebrows cynically.

‘Exactly. Well, I wasn’t. But we’d been messaging, because I put his blanket in my bag by mistake when we went to the pub, and I needed to give it back.’