Page 44 of You Were Always the One

After leaving Dora’s, I head to Charley’s house. This morning, when I knock on her door, it’s Charley who opens it.

There’s more colour in her cheeks, and while frail, she walks with purpose. ‘You look good,’ I say.

‘I feel better,’ she says. ‘Don’t worry. I’m not reading too much into that. But it’s great while it lasts. I’ve even been doing some more gardening.’

It explains the colour in her cheeks. ‘Be careful you don’t overdo it,’ I say.

‘It wasn’t anything strenuous. I planted some primroses in the pots by the door. It was just nice to get my hands in the earth.’ She brings over a cup of tea. ‘If anything good has come out of this, it’s that after being laid up in bed, I have a new appreciation for the simplest things.’

‘Easy to forget, when our lives always seem so busy,’ I say.

‘Yes. But most of it isn’t important, is it? That’s another thing I’m realising. The wrong things waste so much of our time,’ she says. ‘You realise what matters is family.’

I don’t tell her about Miles. She has enough going on in her own life. But then she surprises me. ‘There’s no getting away from it, is there?’ She’s talking about cancer. ‘A colleague of Jake’s has just been diagnosed. He had a setback a few days ago. Jake’s gone to see him. He didn’t say much – he worries he’ll scare me. Honestly.’ She rolls her eyes. ‘But this poor guy, it isn’t looking good.’

‘We all know someone,’ I say inadequately, before changing the subject. ‘So tell me. What have you been planting?’

After the way Miles spoke to me, I haven’t been back to see him again. But when I call the hospital to see when he’s being discharged, they tell me he’s already left.

I’m flummoxed, wondering where he’s gone. But at exactly that moment, a taxi pulls up outside. From the window, I watch Miles get out. He looks thinner, paler; lessened in some way.

‘I would have picked you up,’ I say when he comes in.

‘There was no need,’ he says offhandedly.

‘How are you feeling?’ I ask.

‘Pissed off.’ He stands there, looking aimless, then goes to put the kettle on.

‘Can I get you some lunch?’ I say.

‘Look. I don’t want you fussing around me. OK?’ Then he stops himself. ‘I’m sorry, Holly. I’m not angry with you. It’s everything else.’

‘I have an understanding of how tough this is.’ I watch my husband.

‘You think you do, because of your bloody job. But you don’t,’ he says. ‘I’m sorry, but unless this has happened to you, you can’t understand.’

I take his point. ‘Come and sit down,’ I say. I’m reaching my limit; more and more, this is how he speaks to me. He’s scared. And he’s under intense strain, I remind myself. But we both are.

He pulls out a chair. ‘What is it now?’

‘We need to talk,’ I say. ‘And hear me out. I know it’s a difficult time. But this is hard for all of us.’

When he doesn’t say anything, I go on. ‘I want to ask some questions – I just want a picture of what’s happening here. And it would really help if you could be honest.’ I pause. ‘When were you actually diagnosed?’

‘About a month ago. I told you, didn’t I?’

I fold my arms. ‘You told me your medical appointments were the reason you were out so much.’ I watch him closely. ‘But we both know you’ve been absent much longer than that.’ I wait for anger to explode out of him. But it doesn’t. ‘Is there something else you haven’t told me?’

‘There really isn’t,’ he says. ‘You’re being paranoid. If you don’t mind…’ He starts to get up.

‘Please don’t walk away.’ It takes all I have to stay calm. ‘You see, I do mind. If I’m wrong, I apologise. And I hate saying this, but it feels like you’re lying to me. I’m your wife, Miles. Don’t you think you should tell me the truth?’

There’s a pause. Then his shoulders seem to slump. ‘OK. I’ve seen Patricia again. After I started feeling unwell, I needed someone to talk to.’

Patricia. The same woman as last time. Even though my instincts were bang on, I gaze at him, shocked.

‘I know how it sounds. And you’re probably thinking it’s you I should have talked to. I suppose I should have.’ He glances at me. Then he goes on. ‘Nothing happened. We just talked. It’s why I didn’t tell you. There wasn’t anything to say, really.’ Then for the first time in months, he properly looks at me. ‘I came so close to telling you. But then… well, we all know what happened.’ His voice is hollow. ‘If we’re being honest, I haven’t been happy for a long time.’