Lisa Hall - Tell Me No Lies

‘Thank you.’ I kiss him. ‘You’re my knight in shining armour.’

His brow creases and he looks apologetic.

‘You might think that now, but not for long. I booked us a table at that swanky pub on the other side of the Heath tonight as a surprise, but my sister can’t babysit now. Jacob’s got chickenpox. It was meant to be a surprise. I’m sorry, Steph. I wanted us to have a really nice last evening together to make up for my leaving early, but it looks like I’ve cocked it up again.’

He looks so disappointed. I reach for his hand to tell him it doesn’t matter when a voice calls, ‘Steph? How are you feeling?’ Lila appears from the other side of the hedge that shields one side of our front garden from the road. ‘Hello, Mark – nice to see you.’ She flashes a quick smile at him and leans over to peck me on the cheek.

‘I’m fine, feeling much better actually.’ I smile at her, and hope that she won’t mention the posy before I have a chance to speak to Mark myself. ‘Mark was just saying he’d booked us a meal out tonight, but the babysitter has cancelled. It’s his last night before he leaves for Paraguay,’ I explain.

‘Well, don’t miss out on an evening together for the sake of a babysitter! Why don’t I sit with Henry for you? It’ll only be for a few hours, won’t it? You two should spend your last evening together, go and have a good time. Honestly. I don’t mind.’

‘What about Henry?’ I ask, a frown creasing my brow. ‘I mean, I’m grateful for the offer, Lila, but Henry doesn’t know you that well. And he’ll want to see Mark.’ I know he wants to spend Mark’s last evening with him as well. He’s sensitive, and every time Mark goes away it disrupts his routine for days on end. It’s always much easier if we have all spent the last evening together.

‘We’ll stay home and put him to bed together like usual, then we can go out for dinner on our own, just the two of us.’ Mark snakes an arm around my waist and smiles at Lila. ‘Thank you, Lila, we really do appreciate the offer. Steph, don’t worry, Henry will be fine – we’ll make sure he’s settled before we leave. Come on, let Lila and I do this one thing for you.’

Lila nods at me, and that’s it. Settled.

Mark is so pleased with himself for arranging tonight; I don’t have the heart to tell him I don’t really want to go. I know if I make excuses about not knowing Lila that well, or that I’m tired and would rather stay home, he’ll start thinking I’m slipping back into the way I was before, when everything was an effort, and it was easier to let the black clouds blanket me from the outside world. I make my way upstairs, feeling crappy about getting so irritated with him. He’s tried his hardest to sort out a lovely evening out, even booking a table and sorting the babysitting out with Lila – normally the things that I have to arrange – so why don’t I feel more grateful? Because he’s only done it because he’s leaving us for weeks at a time? Because he asked Lila, someone who Henry really doesn’t know that well, instead of just letting us have an evening at home? Because he cheated on me and broke my heart, and try as I might I just can’t seem to get over it? I sigh, mentally kicking myself for being such a bitch and stand for a long time under a hot shower, trying to wash away my blues.

Henry is settled, Lila arrives on time and so does our cab. Before I know it we are sitting opposite each other in a restaurant that tries to model itself as a homely, English pub, but instead of dishing up the more traditional plates of fish and chips or pie and mash, it serves everything on wooden boards or pieces of slate, chips balanced up like a greasy, dripping tower. I have resolved, while I was getting ready, not to mention the posy of flowers to Mark, worried he’ll think I’m being paranoid, but now, sitting here in the cosy pub, firelight glowing and filling the room with warm orange light, I decide I don’t want to keep it a secret from him. I don’t want him to leave for weeks with a secret between us, however small and insignificant it might end up being.

‘Mark … yesterday someone left something on the doorstep.’ I watch him carefully, to see how he reacts. I’m always conscious that he does have a tendency to think I jump to the wrong conclusion all the time, especially as he knows my history. He spears a forkful of salad before replying.

‘Something? Like what?’

‘Well, flowers. With a little note.’

‘That’s nice. Who were they from? They weren’t from me, I’m afraid, babe. You know flowers aren’t really my thing. I’d buy you something far more exciting than a bunch of flowers. Sorry, I’m starving.’ He shovels the forkful of food into his mouth and I have to turn my face away for just a second.

‘That’s the thing. I don’t know who they were from. I assumed they were from Lila, but she said she’d never seen them before in her life.’ His eyes meet mine across the table and he gently lays his fork down.

‘Maybe you’ve got a secret admirer?’ He takes my hand in his large, warm one. ‘Are you worried about it, Steph? Is that it?’

I sigh, and try to shake my head.

‘I don’t think so. Maybe. Why would someone leave them on the porch, when I was home asleep, instead of just knocking on the door? I just worry it might be somehow connected to what happened … you know … before.’ I suck in a deep breath and blink back tears as I tell him exactly what the note said. He fiddles with his wedding ring, twisting it slowly around his finger. He must have lost weight; it never used to move so easily on his hand.

‘Maybe they didn’t want to wake you. It just seems to me like someone genuinely being nice, that’s all. Steph, you worry too much. It’s not to do with Llewellyn Chance, I promise you. Whoever it was just wanted to cheer you up, that’s all. The sender might have even got the wrong door for all you know; they might have been meant for Lila. Please try not to worry.’ I drop his hand. Maybe they were meant for Lila, but something inside me says they were meant for me, and that’s not necessarily a good thing.

‘Maybe I am reading too much into it all. Maybe you’re right. I’m sorry; let’s not spoil your last night at home. Let’s order dessert.’ Not wanting to talk about it any further I pick up the dessert menu and study it carefully, until Mark gently pushes it down away from my face.

‘Do you want me to check? Make sure that he’s still inside?’ His eyes search my face and I shake my head gently.

‘No. No, it’s OK, they would have told me if he wasn’t. Please, Mark, let’s just leave it.’

‘Steph, you are still seeing Dr Bradshaw, aren’t you? You’ll keep seeing him while I’m gone?’

‘What? Yes, of course.’ My face flames and I dip forward, allowing my hair to fall over my face. I have cancelled my last two appointments with Dr Bradshaw behind Mark’s back. I don’t really need to see him, I’m sure I don’t. I am feeling much better and writing in the diary helps a lot.

‘Please make sure you keep going, Steph. It’s important, especially after last time. I don’t want us to have to go through it all again, and I know you don’t want to. I love you, Steph. I just want you to be OK.’

‘I said, yes, didn’t I?’ My tone is sharp and Mark seems to realise that it’s time to drop it. Mark calls Dr Bradshaw a counsellor, but we both know he’s not. We both know he’s a therapist, a head doctor, whatever you want to call him. We both know that Mark wants me to keep on seeing him because, even though I know he loves me, even though I know he regrets what he did, deep down Mark thinks I am still a teensy bit crazy. The mood changes after that and we decide not to bother with dessert. Arriving home earlier than planned, Mark tries to give Lila some money for babysitting, but she waves him away, laughing, saying it was her pleasure and that she doesn’t get out enough as it is. I smile weakly at her and use checking on Henry as an excuse to make my way upstairs, out of the way of their banter, too tired to pretend tonight.