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Authors: Pamela Hartshorne

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BOOK: The Memory of Midnight
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‘I know, why don’t you and Oscar come back with me and the kids, and I’ll make us all some lunch? Nick said you needed to eat something. Then you can make an appointment with
your GP. I’ll drop you off if you like, and take the kids swimming – or maybe you’d like your mum to go with you?’

‘I don’t need to see a doctor, Vanessa. Please don’t mention this to Mum.’

‘Tess, you must see that we’re concerned!’ Vanessa shook her head worriedly. ‘I hate to see you like this.’

Tess lifted her head. ‘Like what?’

‘You know like what. Passing out, claiming to have babies who don’t exist, little boys nobody else can see . . .’ She laid a soothing hand on Tess’s shoulder. ‘I
just think the strain of moving into that flat on your own has got too much for you. There’s no shame in admitting you need some help.’

‘I’m not having a breakdown!’ Tess shook off Vanessa’s hand angrily and Vanessa clicked her tongue.

‘You’re not yourself, Tess. You must see that.’

Rubbing her temples, Tess made herself take a steadying breath. ‘I know how it looks, Van, but I promise you, going to see a doctor isn’t going to help.’

‘But you can’t just ignore these episodes!’ Vanessa protested.

‘I’m not ignoring them.’ Oh, God, why hadn’t she kept her mouth shut? She should never have told Vanessa about the baby that day, but her misery had been so overwhelming
that she hadn’t been thinking clearly. And now, with Hugh dying . . . grief struck her anew, a blow to the heart that would have had her buckling if she hadn’t been sitting down. She
wanted to lie down, to curl on the grass and howl and howl.

Nell hadn’t been able to do that. Nell had had to carry on, and she would too. The thought made Tess straighten. With an effort, she pushed her hair back from her face and forced herself
to concentrate. Vanessa would keep badgering her, on and on, unless she said that she was doing something. ‘As it happens, I’ve been to see a therapist, but I’d rather you
didn’t tell Mum that.’

Vanessa was instantly suspicious. ‘What kind of therapist?’

‘One who specializes in regression.’ She didn’t want to lie outright. ‘That’s what I was doing when I went to Lincoln with Luke.’

‘I might have known Luke would be involved!’ said Vanessa in disgust. ‘Trust him to take you off to some quack. How do you know this guy isn’t a charlatan?’

‘I liked him,’ said Tess defiantly. She began to struggle to her feet, anxious to put an end to the conversation, and Vanessa leapt up in one lithe movement to help her.
‘It’s sweet of you to worry, but there’s no need.’ She removed her arm from Vanessa’s firm grip. ‘Honestly.’

Vanessa was still looking worried. ‘I don’t like it,’ she said with a sigh, ‘but you’ve always been stubborn.’ It was news to Tess for whom Vanessa had always
had a far stronger will. ‘I know there’s no point in arguing once you’ve got an idea in your head.’

She started to gather up the children’s discarded jackets. ‘Come and have some lunch anyway.’

Tess couldn’t wait to get away. Vanessa’s concern was smothering and she was finding it hard to breathe. ‘It’s kind of you, but I think I just need to lie down for a
bit.’

Vanessa looked at her narrowly, noting her pale face and the shadows under her eyes. ‘Tell you what,’ she said. ‘I’ll take Oscar back with me. I can bring him home later
and check that you’re all right at the same time. I’ve got the new key you gave me.’

Tess looked around for Oscar. Instinct told her that she should keep him with her, but he was racing around, his earlier fright forgotten, and having such a good time with Sam and Rosie that it
seemed cruel to drag him back to the flat. Besides, there was a tight band of misery still behind her eyes, and her limbs were leaden with exhaustion. She needed to sleep, and she couldn’t do
that and watch Oscar at the same time. And perhaps it would keep Vanessa quiet for now. She didn’t have the energy to argue any more.

‘All right,’ she said. ‘Thanks. If you could keep an eye on Oscar this afternoon, I’d be really grateful. But don’t bring him back. I’ll come and get him. The
walk will do me good.’ She summoned a smile, aware that she was being less than gracious. Vanessa was only trying to help. ‘You’re a good friend, Vanessa. I don’t know what
I’d do without you.’

Vanessa patted the jackets over her arm complacently. ‘That’s one thing you’ll never need to find out,’ she said. ‘You can rely on me, Tess.’

A vicious headache raked Tess’s brain as she stood in St Helen’s Square looking at the church. This was where she had worshipped. Where she had buried Hugh. She
turned slowly, not seeing the shoppers or the tourists or the patient queue outside Betty’s Tea Rooms. She blanked out the flower stall and the cycle racks, the buskers and the municipal
planters, the shops and the bank. In their place was the churchyard, its stocks and its stile – and the pile of earth they were going to shovel over Hugh.

Grief clawed at her anew. She wanted to drop to the ground, to scrabble away at the paving, and her fingers stung as if she were frantically ripping up slabs, tearing through the earth with her
hands to get to her boy. Was he still there, far below, or had he rotted with the rosemary and the winding sheet long ago?

Earth to earth
. Tess could still hear the minister’s sonorous voice.

Her vision blurred and her hands burned as she turned away to stumble up Stonegate and by the time she reached the door to Richard’s building, she could barely see. She was fumbling to fit
the key in the lock when a voice spoke behind her.

‘Ah, so there you are, Theresa.’

The words sliced through her wooziness, through her grief and her pain, a cleaver falling sharp and true to the heart of her fear.

Martin.

The key dropped from Tess’s nerveless fingers, and she span round, her heart thudding.

There he was: her good-looking husband, clean-shaven, expensively dressed in a blazer and open-necked white shirt. His fair hair was neatly brushed. His smile was charming.

‘You look surprised to see me,’ he said.

Tess’s mouth was dry. ‘What are you doing here?’ she managed, hating the waver in her voice.

‘I’ve come to take you home, of course.’ Martin stepped closer, bent to pick up the key, and it was all Tess could do not to flinch. ‘As soon as you rang, I knew it meant
you were ready for me to come and get you.’

‘No.’ Tess retreated until her back was against the door. ‘I’m not going back to London, Martin.’

‘Darling, don’t you think you’re being a little childish? You know how important my work is and that I have to be in London. I can’t possibly move to York.’

‘I don’t want you to.’ Her heart rate had accelerated and her pulse was booming in her ears. ‘I want a divorce. And I’d like my key, please.’ She held out her
hand, keeping it steady with an effort and, after a moment, Martin dropped the key into her palm.

‘You’re angry with me.’ His face changed, puckered with concern. ‘I don’t understand, Theresa. What have I done?’ A hangdog look under his lashes, a penitent
smile. ‘Is it because I left it so long to come and get you?’

‘No.’ Tess moistened her lips and her eyes flickered around her. The street was full of tourists, but none of them sensed that anything was wrong. She was trapped in a bubble, where
there was just her and Martin smiling at her. Already she could feel his implacable will closing like a fist around her, squeezing her, crushing her. She forced herself to straighten, lift her
chin. Nell flickered into her mind. She hadn’t let Ralph break her spirit. Tess wouldn’t succumb to Martin either.

‘No,’ she said again. ‘I’m not playing games, Martin. I want you to go.’

‘Darling, why are you being like this?’ Martin looked genuinely puzzled. ‘Perhaps I should have come before but I wanted you to miss me as much as I missed you. Oh, perhaps I
wanted to punish you just a teeny bit for leaving me without a word, but I think we’ve both learnt a lesson, haven’t we? And I’m here now. You’ve got what you
wanted.’

‘I didn’t want you to come,’ Tess said steadily. She had been afraid of this meeting for so long, but after the initial shock of seeing him, she was calmer than she had
expected. ‘I don’t want to be married to you any more.’

‘Theresa, this is crazy!’ His face worked with distress before he got hold of himself. ‘Look, why don’t we talk about this inside? I can see you’re pale.
Aren’t you feeling well?’ He leant forward, all tender concern. ‘Your mother says you’ve been under a strain.’

Thanks, Mum. Just what I needed.

He looked so contrite, so anxious to please. A model for a loving husband come to woo his wife again. Of course they should go inside and talk in privacy. Then Tess thought about her cutlery
drawer. She thought about the lingerie laid out in neat rows.

‘No,’ she said. ‘I don’t want you inside.’

‘Is it because I was short with you on the phone the other day? Surely you knew that was only because I’ve been so upset? I don’t think you understand how much you hurt me by
walking out like that, Theresa,’ he said plaintively. ‘I was gutted. I could hardly eat or sleep. I’ve been a mess.’

In the past, Tess would have responded with automatic guilt but now she could look at him and think that he didn’t look a mess. He looked fit and as fastidiously neat as ever, and a wave
of tiredness engulfed Tess. Resisting Martin’s will was exhausting. His presence sucked greedily at her energy until she was too feeble not to give in, but she wasn’t going to do that
this time. She had to be stronger than him. She had to be strong like Nell.

‘I don’t want you in my home,’ she said, pleased with how calm she sounded.

Something unpleasant stirred in Martin’s eyes, and was quickly veiled. He heaved a long-suffering sigh. ‘Then can we at least go and have a coffee or something? We can’t
discuss our marriage in the street.

‘Please,’ he begged when Tess hesitated. ‘I know I’ve made mistakes, but all I want is for us to be together. A family again. I love you, Theresa. Please let’s at
least talk. You can tell me what the problem is, and we’ll sort it all out, I promise.’

Oh, he could be so convincing when he tried! Even when she was on guard and determined to resist, Tess felt the tug of his words. To be a family again. To be loved. To talk. How could she refuse
something so simple?

Surely it would be possible to have a rational conversation now? She wanted to be civilized. She would make Martin understand that their marriage was over. She could reassure him that she
didn’t want anything from him. No alimony, no child support. It would be better than antagonizing him. And what could he do to her in a cafe? If the worst came to the worst, she could get up
and walk away.

‘All right,’ she said. ‘A coffee.’

There was a tea room on the first floor of the china shop opposite. It was popular and they had to queue on the stairs for five minutes before they were shown to a table by a window looking down
on Stonegate. Martin didn’t like to be kept waiting. His smile grew strained, and Tess could see the warning pulse throbbing in his neck. Her stomach tightened but she bit back the urge to
apologize the way she would have done before. She didn’t need to placate him, she reminded herself.

As soon as they had ordered, Tess pushed back her chair again. Instantly, Martin’s hand shot out to clamp hers to the table.

‘Where are you going?’

‘To the loo,’ she said evenly. ‘I won’t be long.’

‘But we’ve just got here,’ he protested, not letting go.

‘And I’ve been out all morning. I’m not going anywhere, Martin. I’ve said I’ll have a coffee with you and I will.’

Reluctantly, Martin released her hand. ‘Hurry back,’ he said with a smile that chilled her. ‘I’ve missed you so much, I can’t bear to be apart another
minute.’

Tess felt his eyes on her back as she made her way to the cloakroom. Slumping back against the cubicle door, she fumbled for her phone.

Luke answered on the third ring. ‘Tess.’ He sounded brusque as always, but hearing his voice settled something inside her.

‘I can’t be long.’ Quickly she told him about Martin.

He didn’t waste time exclaiming. ‘Do you want me to come along?’

She bit her lip. ‘I don’t know. I don’t want to provoke him. I just want him to go away!’

‘Look, have your coffee. He can’t do anything to you in the middle of a cafe. I’ll come over and wait outside your flat, so I’ll be there if you need me.’

Tess felt better as she made her way back to the table. Martin was waiting for her with narrowed eyes but he relaxed when he saw her and he got to his feet to hold out her chair for her with an
adoring smile. Tess saw two women on a neighbouring table look at Martin and exchange glances. It was obvious they thought he was an attractive man and were impressed by his chivalrous gesture.

‘At last!’ he said, reaching a hand across the table. ‘Let me tell you how much I’ve missed you, my darling.’

Tess ignored his hand, kept her fingers linked in her lap to stop them trembling.

‘Why are you being like this?’ he demanded, hurt.

Seeing Tess return, the waitress brought over two coffees and smiled as she set them down. ‘Can I get you anything else?’

Martin ignored her. His manners were for show and not to be wasted on mere waitresses.

‘Thank you,’ said Tess stiffly. ‘We’re fine.’

‘Now,’ said Martin, ‘tell me what’s the matter.’

Where could she begin? How could she possibly get through to him? Tess picked up her cup, holding it awkwardly between her throbbing fingers. Perhaps this had been a mistake.

‘Theresa, I don’t have a lot of time for this.’ Martin sighed, carefully patient. ‘I’ve got a number of important bids coming up and a government contract that has
to be fulfilled . . . but –’ He held up his hand in a gesture of acknowledgement. ‘I get it. I haven’t been paying you enough attention. I’d have thought sitting down
and talking would have been one option, but no, you had to make a big drama and run away as if I was some kind of monster!’

‘I tried to talk to you about things,’ Tess managed, setting her cup carefully in its saucer. ‘You wouldn’t listen.’

BOOK: The Memory of Midnight
9.17Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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