Chestnut Street (22 page)

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Authors: Maeve Binchy

BOOK: Chestnut Street
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“Guessed?”

“I’ve asked your mother to marry me, and she said yes. We were to tell you tonight.”

He looked at her, his face all lit up with the pleasure of it.

“What do you think, Lisa—what is the first thought that comes into your head?”

She went to embrace him.

“I think that from now on I’ll always have someone to buy a Father’s Day card for,” she said.

Everyone knew that David Jones was having an affair. David’s boss, Mike, at the picture framer’s, knew and he couldn’t understand it.

David’s wife, Anna, was such a star. Small, dark, eager and enthusiastic. She was always laughing and cheerful no matter how many gloomy days the company had been through.

Her kitchen was their meeting place as they sorted out their problems and organized rescue missions for the firm.

Anna was there, elbows on the table, dreaming up new schemes, new promotions, ways of cutting costs.

She would serve them hot lentil soup, assuring them that it cost three pence a mug and no profits were being frittered.

David’s twin sister, Emily, knew, and it broke her heart. She had been so close to David for thirty-five years—they shared everything, and she really did have this twin thing of knowing when he was happy or when he was upset. But she had not felt any intuition about the affair; she discovered it by accident when she was at a wedding and overheard someone pointing out a blond woman as Rita, who was having a steamy affair with that guy David, who worked in the picture framer’s.

Emily had to sit down with shock. And as she watched with a heavy heart during the rest of the wedding she saw her twin brother close at Rita’s side, touching her arm, smiling at her with a special smile. And Emily knew it was true.

Anna’s father, Martin, knew about the affair, because he had been staying in a hotel on the south coast on business and seen in the register that a Mr. and Mrs. David Jones with their address had also checked in. What a wonderful coincidence! he thought. We can have dinner together. And how odd they didn’t tell us last Sunday. He was not at all suspicious until he rang his wife, and mentioned the fact.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Martin. Anna was here with me this afternoon—she’s only just gone. It must be some other David Jones.”

“Yes, of course,” Anna’s father said in a hollow voice, because he had seen the address and knew that it was not. Anna’s father stayed in his room and had a plate of sandwiches served to him lest he meet his son-in-law and risk a confrontation.

Anna’s friends all knew that David was having an affair because he certainly didn’t go to any trouble to hide it. They saw him with Rita at the golf club, in wine bars and nuzzling in a car outside the railway station.

It wasn’t something they ever mentioned to Anna. At first because they thought she didn’t know and they did not want to be the one who brought the bad news. Then later, when they assumed that she
must
know, they didn’t mention it because it was up to her to bring the subject up if she wanted to.

And when she
did
bring it up they could be sympathetic, shruggy or whatever was called for. And obviously she knew about it.

David was making no secret of Rita; there was no way that he was under any kind of cover.

Anna’s best friend, Marigold, knew, and she wondered how on earth Anna could bear it. Yet Anna went along with her life quite
normally. She walked the children to school, two little boys, seven and six, and then she went to work until it was time to collect the children again. She always had a welcome in the house for everyone and her smile was just as bright as before Rita had come on the scene.

Rita, with her threatening behavior. Ice cool and haughty, driving poor, stupid David mad by playing hard to get when he least expected it.

Marigold would never forgive Rita for demanding that David leave Anna’s birthday party to go and see her. Marigold had been standing nearby when the call came.

“I have to go,” David had said, his face grim.

“Nothing wrong?” Anna looked worried.

“No, a work thing, has to be sorted out,” he said and he was out the door and into his car.

Marigold had wanted to run after him and beat him with her fists. How dare he leave his wife’s birthday party. How dare he pretend it was work. Mike, his boss, was there in the room with them. Everyone would know that it could have nothing to do with work. David was not even giving Anna the dignity of lying to her properly.

Marigold had helped Anna to wash up that day.

“Pity David had to leave,” she ventured.

“I know, but he puts everything into that company,” Anna said, eager and full of support. “You noticed Mike was happy to stay on drinking wine, but David went to cope with whatever it was.”

She sounded admiring about it all.

Oh, well, Marigold thought, if that’s how she’s going to play it, fine—everyone must make a personal decision about these things. Friends must not barge in and force them to take a different attitude.

Marigold sighed at the faithlessness of men. Something she had known many years ago, before her own bitter divorce. Would
it have been an option at that time to pretend that she was blind to what was going on? Would her husband’s affair have fizzled out if she had been able to ignore it?

No, not for her it wouldn’t have been, but for others it might be, so she resolved not to tackle Anna about it all.

It never crossed anyone’s mind that Anna actually didn’t know. They all assumed that this was her way of coping. So when it was known that Anna’s great friend Sally from school days long back was going to come for a visit, everyone sighed with relief. Anna would be able to talk to Sally about it. The weight was now off their minds. Sally would cope.

Sally was one of those amazingly organized women whom everyone should have hated from pure jealousy, but, in fact, everyone loved her.

She was in her late thirties, looked in her twenties, had short fair hair that looked just as well after a rainstorm or a swim as it did when she came out of the hairdressing salon. She had a job as a columnist on a big London newspaper, she was often on television talk shows, she had a handsome husband, Johnny, who adored her, two teenage children who were proud of her and who did not take drugs, run with a gang or fill the house with terrible people.

Sally had time for her friends, and every year she came to stay with Anna for a long weekend. Sally admired everything, remembered everyone’s names, brought silly gifts for their children and organized a great Chinese meal out just for the girls.

They all knew that if anyone could sort it out, then it would be Sally.

Emily came to lunch just before Sally’s visit.

“Can I take the kids for a bit when Sally’s here—you and she will have lots to talk about.”

Anna’s face was all smiles.

“Oh, Em, you’re so good, such a sister-in-law there never was. No, I don’t need you, as it happens, because Mike and his wife
have said the very same thing. They’re going to take them to the ice skating, would you believe, and Marigold next door has offered to take them to a computer show, and everyone has been so marvelous.”

Emily’s face was grim. She knew why everyone was busy taking the two little boys away. They all hoped that if Sally had time and space she would sort out Anna’s problems. Sally could tell Anna to face the facts. She must give David an ultimatum: either he gives up Rita or he leaves home.

Emily felt sure that her twin brother would give up this strange, pale girl.

Perhaps it was only a fling; he might not have felt appreciated enough. He might only have done it to prove that he could. Once he saw how much Anna cared, Rita would be given her marching orders, the reconciliation would be tearful and sweet. It might make the marriage even better. Stronger.

Emily wondered why she had such misgivings about it all. She found herself alone with her twin brother for a few minutes.

“Anything wrong, Em?” he asked.

“You know what’s wrong.” she said.

He looked up, surprised. “I don’t.”

“Then you’re an even greater fool than I thought,” Emily said, near tears, and left him looking bewildered.

Why hadn’t she said it straight out there and then? Because she was afraid that Anna or one of the boys would come back and join them. And she didn’t want to wreck it when she knew that Sally would do it much better.

Anna was taking four days off from work for Sally’s visit. She did her shopping to fill the freezer with treats. She had got nice new pillowcases and matching towels for the guest room. It was wonderful to have a friend like Sally, unchanged since the days when they sat in school tunics and planned for the future. And it didn’t matter that Anna worked in an office and Sally was a regular guest on
Any Questions?
; they were still the same people.

Sally had brought exactly the right video games for Frank and Harry. She never exclaimed on how big they had got or tried to kiss them, but gave manful handshakes instead. She told them that when they were ten and nine they could come to London and stay with her and she would give them a weekend to remember—they must start writing down now all the things they wanted to do in three years’ time.

Sally admired the house, the gorgeous colors in the bedroom, the window boxes, all the fresh air. No one would have known the splendor of Sally’s own house in London. She spread such delight and enthusiasm all around her no one remembered she was a celebrity whose home was often featured in big color spreads in magazines.

She listened to Anna’s story of the picture framing business and how it had survived a crisis yet again. And how her job was very tiring but they were very good to her and gave her staggered hours, and how David had to do a lot of traveling these days for the company and was away from home at least one night a week, sometimes two.

“That’s hard,” Sally said sympathetically. “Is he buying wood for frames or meeting possible new clients or what?”

Anna was vague. “I don’t know. A little of both, I imagine. Anyway, there it is. It has to be done.”

Her smile was as bright as ever.

Sally went walking with her friend Anna and admired the countryside. She was so
lucky
to live in this lovely part of the world. Unlike so many people who came up from the south and said the north was grim, Sally always praised it to the skies. No wonder she had so many friends. And they couldn’t wait to see her. They were all begging her to come for coffee, to drop in for a drink, to admire the new baby, the new pergola in the garden. It didn’t take Sally long to realize that something was up; they wanted to see her without Anna.

Sally thought it all through.

It couldn’t be a matter of Anna’s health—she had never looked better, she had described her recent checkup, they both went for routine screenings and examinations. There was nothing wrong with the boys. The business was staggering and lurching on as it had always done.

It had to be David.

David, who now went on vague business trips.

They were going to tell her that David was straying from home and that Anna had no idea about it. Would Sally act as some kind of go-between. And Sally made a decision that she would do nothing of the sort. If Anna asked her advice, she would give it, but she would listen to no confidences from friends.

So she refused all offers of tête-à-têtes, saying that she was rushed off her feet. Instead she went everywhere with Anna, waiting for her to open up, if this was what she had in mind. But there was no expected confidence.

If there was anything going on, Anna certainly knew nothing of it. Sally and Anna had told each other everything from the day of their first period to the first groping experiments to betrayals by boyfriends, to their anxieties and doubts about marriage. If Anna thought that David had another woman she would have told Sally.

David, on the other hand,
did
look different, and edgy and ill at ease. He seemed fearful of being alone with Sally in case she brought the subject up. He asked her a great deal about her own work and told her little of the business.

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