Where the Memories Lie (2 page)

her goodbye but even though she’s still a model child and not a

terrible, hormonal teenager, I know public displays of affection are definitely ‘uncool’.

I settled for a wave instead. ‘Have a good day.’

‘Hi, Aunty Olivia. Bye, Aunty Olivia.’ Charlotte rushed past

and swung herself aboard.

With a whooshing sound the bus doors closed and they

were off.

I turned in Nadia’s direction and waited for her to catch up

with her chocolate brown Labrador, Minstrel. She looked wrong.

Usually, she’s immaculately turned out. She doesn’t even go to the

corner shop without her full makeup on and her wavy blonde hair

perfectly straightened and hanging down her back like a sheet of

smooth, shimmering metal. This morning, her hair was pulled on

top of her head in a messy bun. She wore old tracksuit bottoms that she normally wouldn’t be seen out dead in. Her face was as pale

as Charlotte’s. Her eyes puffy and red. She had a lump of mascara

caked in the corner of one of them.

Poppy tugged on the lead as they got closer, and then the dogs

were involved in full-on sniffs and licks of fur.

‘Are you OK?’ I put a hand on Nadia’s arm. ‘Aren’t you feeling

well, either?’

She closed her eyes for a brief moment, as if steeling herself

for what she was about to say. When she opened them again they

were wet.

‘Not here. Let’s talk on the path.’ Nadia walked ahead of me,

back along the direction I’d just come from.

My house is the last one at the edge of the village. It’s an old

barn that my father-in-law Tom beautifully renovated and converted

twenty-five years ago into a family home. Nadia, Ethan and Chris

had all lived in it with their Dad until they left home. Then when

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Tom got Alzheimer’s, Ethan and I bought the house from him. I’d

always loved it, you see, so I jumped at the chance. It was rustic and country with exposed brick walls, original quarry-tiled floors, thick wooden beams and trusses, oak-framed windows, earthy tones and

bags of cosy charm. Nadia and Lucas prefer new, modern spaces,

not something rustic and quirky, so they didn’t want to buy it, and it was far too big for Chris on his own, so that was that. Tom lived with us there for a while before things became . . . well, let’s just say difficult. Unsafe, actually. And upsetting. None of us wanted to see him in a nursing home. It was an awful thought. But I had Anna

to consider, and Tom almost blew the house up one day by leaving

the gas hob on and lighting his pipe in the kitchen when Anna

was upstairs. Nadia did a lot of research to find the nicest nursing home with the best reputation, and that’s how Tom ended up at

Mountain View Nursing Home. Not entirely sure why it was called

Mountain View − there are no mountains in Dorset − but anyway,

we couldn’t ask for somewhere nicer, really. The staff were so good with him.

Along the side of Tate Barn is a public footpath that takes you

through a canopy of trees onto woods. On the other side of the

woods are sprawling hills and fields that eventually lead to the next village of Abbotsbury.

‘So, what’s wrong?’ I asked again as I let Poppy off the lead.

She bounded off, then realised her playmate wasn’t with her and

bounded back again, tongue lolling to one side.

Minstrel, named by Charlotte after the chocolates she loved,

barked back at her as Nadia stood there, staring off into space.

I put my hand on her shoulder. ‘Nadia?’

She let Minstrel off her lead and the dogs ran away together,

ears flapping.

‘It’s Lucas. He’s having an affair.’ Her eyes welled up again. She

closed them and pressed her fingertips against the lids.

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Where the Memories Lie

I gasped. ‘No. No way. Why do you think that? Has he

told you?’

‘No, but I found some texts. To this
woman
!’ She spat the word out as her eyes flew open.

‘What woman?’

She started walking along the path. Marching, actually. I marched

alongside her.

‘She works with him. She’s an air steward.’

Lucas was a long-haul pilot and was often away for a few days

at a time.

‘No! Are you sure? What did the texts say?’

‘That she was missing him. That she couldn’t wait to fuck him.

That she was looking forward to a night together in Jamaica.’

‘Where is he now, then?’

She wiped her eyes. ‘Jamaica.’

‘Oh.’ For once I didn’t know what to say.

‘I thought he’d been acting a bit weird lately. Secretive.

Whenever a text comes through he’s fiddling with his phone for

ages so I thought I’d check it, but he’s started deleting his texts as soon as they come in, which he never used to do. Then yesterday,

when he was in the shower, I heard a text arrive so I looked at it. Her name’s Patty.’ She snorted. ‘God, Patty sounds like a bloody dog, or a hamster or something.’ She stopped and turned to me, looking

like a shell of herself.

I pulled her towards me in a hug. She was taller than me, nearly

six foot, and my head rested on her shoulder, her collarbone digging into my cheek.

‘I’m so sorry. What are you going to do?’

She didn’t say anything for a long time. We just stayed like that,

holding each other. Then she pulled back.

‘He’s my life. I love him more than anything. So I’m not going

to do anything. I can’t. I can’t lose him.’

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I gave her what I hoped was a supportive smile.

‘What? Do you think that’s weak of me?’ She sniffed.

‘I . . .’ I didn’t know what it was. I was in shock. I couldn’t

imagine Lucas having an affair. They always seemed so perfect for

each other. They’d been together a year longer than Ethan and I,

so that would make it twenty-seven years now. That’s no mean

feat these days, when people change their partners as often as their mobile phones. ‘Maybe it’s not what you think. Maybe there’s some

explanation for it.’

‘No, there’s no mistake.’ She stared out into the thick mature

oaks and beech trees. Then she shook her head. ‘But I’ve decided.

I’ve really decided I’m not going to do anything about it.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes. It will just blow over, I’m positive. I can’t lose him, Olivia.

I just can’t. I’m not going to make him choose. I need him. Charlotte needs him. We’re his family.’

I thought about what I’d do if I found out Ethan was having

an affair. I couldn’t just do nothing and let him carry on. I couldn’t handle knowing he was sleeping with someone else, thinking of

someone else. Maybe even falling in love with someone else. It

would always be there, wouldn’t it? The elephant in the room.

Hanging over what you did and what you thought, until jealousy

and suspicion sucked the life out of anything you had left. Because everything that you thought you knew − that you trusted, believed

in − would be a lie, and I had a big thing about honesty. Ethan

and I had never had any secrets. How can you have a relationship

based on deception? And what about Anna? It would rock her

world, too, but I would have to think about what was best for her.

‘I think it will just blow over,’ Nadia said again, but I didn’t

know who she was trying to convince − me or herself.

‘Yes, of course it will,’ I said, going for supportive instead of

judgemental. I suppose a lot of us don’t know what we’d do until

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Where the Memories Lie

we’re in that situation. I knew, though. I’d cut Ethan’s balls off and shove them down his throat. ‘Is Lucas coming back for the picnic

this weekend?’

‘Yes.’ She glanced over at me and forced a slight smile. ‘Promise

you won’t say anything to anyone. Not even Ethan.’

‘Oh, God, Nadia, you know we don’t have any secrets.’

‘Please.’ She gripped my arm tight, making me stop. ‘I don’t

want Lucas finding out I know. They’re best mates, and if you tell

Ethan, he’ll want to get involved.’

‘He won’t say anything to Lucas if I ask him not to.’

‘He’d probably punch him! No. This is private. This is my

secret, not yours.’

I groaned, looking skyward. ‘OK.’ I just hoped she knew what

she was doing, though.

‘Can you do me a favour?’

Poppy trotted back towards us with a stick in her mouth, closely

followed by Minstrel, who was trying to jump on her back. She

slobbered on my walking boot, keeping us company as we headed

through the woods.

‘Of course. What?’

‘I was going to see Dad later, but I don’t feel up to it today. Is

there any chance you can go instead?’

Since Lucas and Ethan were away such a lot with work, it was

usually Nadia and I who took turns to visit Tom every few days.

Chris went, too, of course, when he was working locally. Most of

the time I didn’t mind seeing my father-in-law so much. I loved

him, after all, and I wanted to make sure he was as happy as he

could be, but sometimes it was tiring and frustrating and became

more of a chore or duty than a pleasure.

‘I’m on the late shift today, but I’ll go in and see him when

we’ve finished our walk.’ I worked part time as a practice nurse

at the village doctor’s surgery, job sharing with another part-time 7

Sibel Hodge

nurse called Elaine. ‘I was going to go to the supermarket soon, but that will have to wait, I suppose. I got tied up with taking Anna

clothes shopping yesterday and forgot to go. Just about managed

to rustle up some stale toast for Anna’s breakfast. I’m such a bad

mother.’

‘You’re not. Anyway, thank you.’ She turned around. ‘Let’s head

back now. I’ve got accounts coming out of my ears. I don’t know

how I’m going to be able to concentrate.’

Nadia worked as an accountant and office administrator from

home, pretty much single-handedly running Tate Construction,

the building firm Tom had started forty years ago. It was a family

effort, with Ethan as the company’s architect and Chris as the

project manager. She also did the accounts for several local chil-

dren’s charities for free, and organised fund raisers for them.

I don’t know how she juggled it all with Charlotte as well. I found it enough juggling five hours of work a day and looking after the

house and Anna. Then again, I wasn’t a super-efficient organiser

like Nadia, although sometimes I wished I was more like her.

She always got the job done, whereas I was often late, forgot to

organise Anna’s packed lunches in advance and missed appoint-

ments. Nadia was the complete opposite. Always early and had

a week’s worth of dinner menus worked out in advance. She was

three years older than me, so I’d never had much to do with her at

school, but when I’d started going out with her brother, and then

married him, we’d naturally become close over the years. She was

like the big sister I’d always wanted. A natural nurturer, she organised all the family get-togethers and was the first one to step in

and offer help if any of us needed it. The strong one. If she was

an elephant, she’d be the matriarch, which was not surprising,

really: Eve, her mum, had died of a sudden brain aneurism when

Nadia was nine years old. Ethan was six at the time and Chris was

three, so Nadia had naturally stepped into the role of caretaker,

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Where the Memories Lie

looking after her brothers, learning to cook − she’s an amazing

cook, unlike me! − and generally helping her dad out in any way

she could. I asked Nadia once how she’d kept it all together with

such a huge responsibility from an early age, but she’d just said it was easier to be strong when other people needed her. Her craving

to help others stopped her falling apart. Eve’s death eventually

brought the Tates closer together, and they had a bond that went

deeper than just being family. They were part of one another, and

I was a part of them.

We said goodbye at the end of the path and I gave her

another hug.

‘Will you be all right?’

‘I’ll have to be, won’t I?’

‘Oh, Nadia, I’m so sorry this is happening. I just—’

She shook her head to cut me off. ‘Don’t say anything. It’ll

be fine. You’ll see. I’m glad I’ve got you to talk to, though. What would I do without you?’ She let me go and walked away, leaving

me standing on the path, watching as her shoulders shook with the

tears she was holding inside.

After settling Poppy in her basket in the kitchen, I drove into

the nearby town of Dorchester. Mountain View nursing home was

on the outskirts, set in three acres of lush, well-tended gardens.

Tom had always loved working in his own garden at Tate Barn

when he had any spare time, and he missed it now he was unable

to. He had to settle for walks in the grounds these days instead.

When I moved into my first house and got a garden of my own,

I always wondered how he’d ever found the time, what with bring-

ing up Chris, Ethan and Nadia single-handedly, running a busy

construction business and looking after his own home. But he said

gardening relaxed him. In a busy, chaotic world, it was his little

haven where he could empty his mind of the stress and not have to

think about any problems for a while.

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