Хилари Боннер - The Cruellest Game

I could tell that he thought he had got me back, or at least was in the process of getting me back. One thing I believed totally was that, like me, he would never get over Robbie’s death. But suddenly he did seem to be coping. He even had a bit of a smile on his face as he looked fondly down at me.

He didn’t know that I not only wanted to wipe that smile off, I wanted to slap him. Hard. Just as I had when I’d first learned of his deception.

And, of course, I so feared there was more to come. Gladys had made me remember that. What else had he not told me in spite of his promises? What other lies might yet be revealed?

I didn’t confront Robert straight away. Instead I just told him I’d had quite enough of the Lamb and Flag and all the doubtless well-meaning mourners who were filling it. The ‘friends’ I hadn’t known any of us had.

‘I’d like to go home as soon as possible,’ I said. ‘Don’t forget Dad needs to pick up his car to drive back to Hartland.’

The funeral car was no longer at our disposal, but Gladys overheard and offered at once to take us back to Highrise.

As usual she chattered non-stop. And by leaving Robert and occasionally my father to make any necessary responses in the few gaps, I was able to shut my eyes, lean back in my seat and retreat into my own head. That was not, however, a happy place.

Back at Highrise, Gladys dropped us off without, thankfully, giving any indication that she expected to be invited in. Robert and I went through the rather stilted motions of sitting down in the kitchen and sharing a pot of tea with Dad. None of us had any conversation. It seemed like for ever before Dad stood up to leave, and I remember thinking he was probably still angling to stay the night. But I didn’t offer. I just couldn’t.

I kissed him goodbye, aware that his cheeks were damp with tears again, and we waved him somewhat shabbily on his way. Even then I still did not trust myself to confront Robert with my new suspicions. Or maybe I just didn’t have the energy.

Robert busied himself making even more tea.

I glanced up at the clock on the wall. It was only just gone 8 p.m. Too early for bed? I didn’t care. I so wanted the day to end.

‘I think I drank too much red wine,’ I told Robert. ‘I just need to lie down.’

‘Of course,’ he said. ‘Would you like me to bring you anything up? Another cup of tea? Something to eat?’

I shook my head. At the pub I had eaten some of the food provided — a couple of sausage rolls and several sandwiches. I’d been on a kind of autopilot. And eating had given me something to do.

‘Only some water, that would be good,’ I said over my shoulder as I made my way up the stairs.

I hesitated outside the room which had been mine and Robert’s for so long. I thought for a moment about the big comfortable bed and the goose-down pillows. Earlier in the day I’d thought I might return there that night. But, full of all that fresh doubt following Gladys’s casual remarks, I couldn’t face it.

I headed for the guest room again. My fluffy dressing gown hung behind the door. I undressed, put it on, and climbed into bed. I would have loved to have fallen into a long, deep sleep but I just knew that wasn’t going to happen. However, when I heard Robert’s footsteps on the stairs, with a pause outside the master bedroom while he perhaps checked if I’d relented and was inside, then further approaching footsteps followed by the sound of the guest-room door opening, I made sure that my eyes were tightly closed.

There was a kind of clinking noise which I knew must be him placing a jug of water and a glass on the bedside table, followed by footsteps and the sound of the door closing behind him.

Only then did I open my eyes. I sat up in bed, poured myself a glass of water and drank gratefully. The water at Highrise came from our own well. It was cool and fresh and unadulterated by chemicals. Even at that moment it tasted great.

I lay back on the pillows and tried to rest, to regain my strength, and I had no idea, really, how long I lay like that, half awake, half dozing, submerged in my own misery and distress.

I must have been dozing when Robert returned. I didn’t even hear him come through the door. I opened my eyes automatically, having become suddenly aware of another presence. And there he was standing looking down at me, concerned and kind.

‘I thought you might like something now,’ he said. He gestured to the bedside table upon which stood a steaming mug and a plate of shortbread biscuits. I could smell the unmistakable aroma of freshly made hot chocolate.

‘W-what time is it?’ I asked.

‘A few minutes before ten,’ he said. ‘I thought I’d have an early night too.’

He reached to touch my shoulder. Only then did I take in that he was wearing his pyjamas.

‘And I thought maybe you were ready for some company,’ he said.

I jerked myself away from him.

‘No, I am not,’ I barked.

His face flushed.

‘I didn’t mean anything, I wasn’t suggesting anything,’ he said, stumbling over the words. ‘Just somebody to hold on to.’

‘No,’ I said again, forcefully.

‘I’m so sorry,’ he said. ‘I must have misread the signs. I thought today I was giving you some comfort at last. That’s all I want to do now...’

I sat up in bed, moving quickly and clumsily. I knocked against the bedside table. Hot chocolate spilled from the mug onto the pale oak surface.

‘You were comforting me,’ I said. ‘Until I caught you out in another damned lie.’

‘What do you mean?’ he asked.

‘You never told me you sang in a church choir, here in Devon. What the heck does that mean?’

‘It doesn’t mean anything,’ he said. ‘Because it’s not true. I’ve never sung in a church choir anywhere. Not here, not in Scotland. Why would I? I hate religion. You know that.’

‘The vicar’s wife remembered you. You can’t deny it. She told me all about it.’

‘I can deny it,’ he continued. ‘Because it’s not bloody well true. That woman’s barmy, if you ask me. She’s also an interfering old cow.’

It was his turn to sound angry now. I couldn’t take any more.

‘Oh, just go to bed, Robert,’ I ordered him wearily. ‘Anywhere you like, except here with me.’

I wriggled down into the bed again, turned over so that my back was towards him, pulled the duvet up around my neck and shut my eyes tight.

He did not persist. Without another word he left the room. Only when I heard the door shut behind him did I relax. And then the tears came again and just would not stop.

I must have fallen asleep at some stage. It was a bright morning and the sun was quite high in the sky when I woke. I checked my watch. It was gone nine. Much later than I would have expected.

I had a shower, put on the dressing gown again, picked up my funeral clothes and began to make my away across the landing to Robert’s and my room in search of a pair of jeans and a sweater.

I could hear Robert’s voice downstairs. He was on the phone. I didn’t trust him any more. And I realized that I quite badly wanted to know who he was talking to and what he was saying without him being aware of my presence. I dropped my armful of yesterday’s clothes on the landing floor and made my way as quietly as I could downstairs, avoiding the treads which I knew creaked.

Robert was in the kitchen. The door was open. I stood in the hall outside with my back pressed against the wall.

‘Look, I just don’t know when I can return,’ I heard him say. ‘It’s far too early to decide. I can’t leave my wife... Well, yes, thank you. If you could give me a couple of weeks before we talk again, that would be great. Really. I can’t make any decisions right now. I just can’t... No. Well, thank you anyway...’