The Lie of Love Read online

  ‘I know.’ Sophie buried her head in Darcy’s breast. ‘I love you, mummy.’

  Darcy kissed her tenderly. ‘I love you too…. Very much.’

  ‘Where did you get to on Saturday?’ Amanda stirred her coffee and shot a sultry look over the top of her mug.

  ‘When?’ Darcy asked.

  ‘After the lifeguard games.’

  ‘I went home.’

  ‘Not straightaway you didn’t.’

  ‘I went for a walk first.’

  ‘A long walk, apparently…’ Amanda raised her eyebrows in a very deliberate gesture. ‘Ged phoned me to see if we were together.’

  ‘And what did you tell him?’ Darcy asked, her heart suddenly hammering in her chest.

  ‘Naturally I lied through my teeth and told him we were. I assume I did the right thing.’

  ‘Sorry…’ Darcy grimaced. ‘I lost track of the time and I got in really late.’

  ‘That’s all you have to say on the matter? I’ve probably ruined my chances of entering the pearly gates for you with my whopping fib, and it was all because you lost track of time?’

  Darcy paused. For a moment the crazy, exhilarating idea that she could share the details of her tryst with Harry was tempting and she was so close to starting the conversation. After all, wasn’t Amanda her best friend? Hadn’t Amanda always been there for her, never judging no matter how Darcy screwed up? But then she closed her mouth again before a word of it had been uttered. This seemed like a confidence too far, even for the broad-minded Amanda. Darcy didn’t think she could stand the look of disappointment on Amanda’s face if she didn’t approve (and who would approve?). Even worse was the idea that Amanda might feel justified in telling Julia, who had shown nothing but kindness and generosity towards Darcy. She’d be more than justified too, and in her darker moments when she dwelled on just what a mess she had created, the guilt would eat at Darcy like a cancer. The right thing would be to phone Harry, tell him not to come near her again – at least, not when there was a chance they might end up alone. But the right thing didn’t come that easily and the phone call had never been made, no matter how long she tossed and turned at night thinking about it.

  ‘Things were awkward with Ged on Saturday, as you know. We weren’t exactly the best of friends and I needed to clear my head, get some space… you understand, don’t you?’

  Amanda nodded. ‘Of course I do.’

  ‘So I’m sorry that you lied but I’m grateful too. It saved a tricky situation becoming downright nightmarish.’

  Amanda reached across the table and squeezed Darcy’s hand. ‘You know, if you want my opinion…’

  ‘Don’t,’ Darcy cut in. ‘I know what you think about it but I can’t even consider a separation whilst there’s so much else going on.’

  ‘That’s not what I was going to say.’

  ‘Yes it is. And you’re right, as you always are. The fact is I’m too weak to face life without him right now. I can’t imagine a time when I won’t be. And I need him more than ever now, to help with Sophie’s campaign. So we must continue to muddle through.’

  ‘He’s not doing much to help with the campaign as far as I can see,’ Amanda said, ‘Harry Simmons in one afternoon has done more for you than Ged has in a lifetime.’

  Darcy bit her lip and bent her head to her drink. Staring into the depths of her coffee, she pondered the irony of Amanda’s last sentence, not daring to look her friend in the eye lest she give away her guilt.

  ‘Hey…’ Amanda said, squeezing her hand a little tighter. ‘You don’t have to feel alone. You have me and Julia and all the other people who want to help you. We all want to see you succeed and we all want to celebrate with you on the day that Sophie wobbles unaided across a room for the first time. So stuff your stupid husband and put your faith in your friends, who will be with you no matter what.’

  When Darcy looked up she could barely see Amanda’s face for the tears that blurred her vision.

  Darcy pressed send on the text she had just written. It seemed a coward’s way out but it was less painful this way than facing him… and less tempting too. She wasn’t sure she could trust herself alone with Harry again, not after last time, and she knew now it couldn’t happen again, no matter what. He had sent her a text, hinting at another liaison and she had to make her position clear without getting too close. Locking the keypad of her phone, she slipped it into her handbag and crossed to the full length mirror on the wardrobe door. She took a deep breath and stared at herself.

  ‘No going back on this…’ she murmured to her reflection. ‘No falling for soft words and promises…’ She checked her watch. If she didn’t get a move on she’d be late for meeting Amanda and Julia. The idea of seeing Julia was a painful one, especially with her tryst with Harry so recent, but although her conscience wasn’t altogether clear, at least it could be eased slightly with the knowledge that it wouldn’t happen again, not now she had ended it. As stupid mistakes went, this might have been her finest hour, but it was a mistake nonetheless. Besides, she was angry at herself, too, for losing focus on what was really important: Sophie’s Steps. She realised now that everything else – her feelings, her doubts, her desires – had to be set aside until the task she had promised to undertake was done.

  Darcy’s troubled gaze flitted between Julia and Amanda. With some dread, she had half imagined that Harry might just turn up uninvited to their meeting at The Sugar Cube, but she was relieved to find her fears unfounded. There was also relief at finding that Rachel was not on shift that day. The notion that she had perhaps stolen what Rachel so dearly wanted caused Darcy almost as much pain as the guilt she felt for both her own family and Harry’s.

  ‘So… as we are now, we’re a third of the way there,’ Amanda beamed. ‘It’s incredible to think how far we’ve come in such a short time.’

  ‘But it has helped being the tourist season,’ Julia added, ‘more people around. So we need to bear in mind that things might slow up a bit come winter.’

  ‘If we carry on like this, we might not even need to fundraise beyond the summer…. Darcy? Are you ok?’ Amanda asked, seeming to realise that her friend’s thoughts weren’t entirely with them.

  Darcy smiled absently. ‘Yes. I was just thinking about our next few projects.’

  ‘I can’t wait for the fashion show,’ Amanda cooed. ‘I bet those university students have some wonderful creations to show us.’

  ‘It was so good of them to donate an outfit each,’ Darcy agreed. ‘And to let us use the university as a venue for the show.’

  ‘So far it’s pulled in about three hundred in advance tickets,’ Amanda said, consulting her file.

  ‘Most of them are people from Howie’s firm you’ve bribed to come along,’ Darcy said with a faint smile.

  ‘One cannot miss the opportunity to own a creation from a future star of fashion design,’ Amanda grinned. ‘Especially if it’s for a good cause too.’

  ‘Harry knows one or two of the students,’ Julia cut in, ‘from high school. I think he’s after a turn on the catwalk.’

  Darcy felt the colour drain from her face. ‘He’s going to be in the show?’

  Julia laughed, seemingly oblivious to Darcy’s distress, although Darcy felt the weight of Amanda’s gaze on her without even having to look.

  ‘If it’s up to him,’ Julia said. ‘He thinks everyone ought to put him at the centre of everything. He’ll learn one of these days that he’s not quite the Adonis he thinks he is.’

  ‘Spoken like a mother,’ Amanda said, and Darcy detected the subtle stress on the last word. Did Amanda know? It felt, at that moment, like she was seeing into Darcy’s soul.

  Darcy almost leapt from her seat as her phone bleeped the arrival of a text. Steadfastly ignoring it, she reached for the teapot and topped up her cup.

  ‘Aren’t you going to get that?’ Amanda asked carelessly.

  ‘Later,’ Darcy said, trying to keep her voice level. Her mother had always said she
was a terrible liar and at times like these she wished she had taken better lessons from that same woman who lied to her father as easily as breathing.

  ‘But it might be important?’

  Darcy gave a jerky nod before reaching into her handbag and retrieving her phone. As she had feared, Harry had chosen the worst possible moment to reply to her text.

  I can’t stop thinking about you and I can’t let this go, no matter what I said on the beach. Meet me once more and tell me it’s over to my face. If you still feel the same way I’ll concede defeat.

  Darcy stashed the phone back and dropped her bag to the floor beside their table. On her lap, she knotted her hands together and cursed herself for her inability to stop them shaking.

  ‘So I said that he’d be lucky to pass this year at all if he doesn’t do any reading over the summer,’ Julia was saying to Amanda. Darcy could tell that Amanda wasn’t really listening, but noting with astute and subtle attention Darcy’s behaviour.

  ‘I ought to get back soon,’ Darcy said, hoping her voice would not betray the turmoil of her emotions. ‘Is there anything else I need to take from today’s meeting?’

  ‘Not from me,’ Amanda said, still watching carefully. ‘Just be sure to turn up at that supermarket collection on Wednesday.’

  Darcy nodded.

  ‘Not me either,’ Julia said. ‘The next time I see you will probably be the fashion show.’ She smiled. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t let Harry gatecrash and parade down the runway in a red evening gown, even though he’s threatened to.’

  Darcy tried to return the smile but it felt stiff and unnatural. She rose from the table and Julia got up and pulled her into a brief kiss on the cheek.

  ‘Take care. I’ll phone you next week.’

  ‘I ought to go too,’ Amanda said, making a show of checking her watch.

  ‘Not on my account,’ Darcy said.

  ‘I’ll walk up to the car with you.’

  ‘No… it’s fine, honestly. Finish your coffee with Julia and I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  Darcy hurried from the Sugar Cube and let the door slam behind her. She didn’t stop the frenetic pace she had set herself until she reached the car. Her heart beating wildly, she pulled the phone from her bag and re-read the text message. The guilt she felt for deceiving Julia was palpable, but the irrational desire to see him even more so. His message seemed so earnest, so genuine. Did he really feel that strongly for her? For a moment, she stared at the phone as her finger hovered over the keys for a reply. But then she dropped it back into her bag and started the engine with a sigh.

  ‘Are you making cakes?’ Jake asked as he hopped up onto the kitchen stool. ‘It smells like it.’

  ‘I thought I’d make a chocolate one for you and one with something a bit naughtier in for your dad.’

  Jake grinned. ‘Like beer?’

  ‘Exactly,’ Darcy smiled. ‘Although I don’t know any beer recipes. I’m making him tiramisu, which has something similar in.’

  Jake wrinkled his nose. ‘I’m glad you’re making chocolate too, I hate tiramisu.’

  ‘I didn’t like it when I was your age. It’s a thing that you’ll learn to like as a grownup.’

  ‘Because it’s got naughty stuff in?’

  Darcy ruffled his hair and went back to her mixing bowl. ‘Are you going to change from your school uniform? You’ve been in for over an hour now and I seem to recall asking you a couple of times already.’

  ‘Okayyyyyyy….’ Jake leapt down from the stool.

  ‘And see if Sophie needs a drink or anything,’ she called as he shuffled from the kitchen.

  Whether or not he heard he didn’t reply. Darcy went back to her mixing, emptying her mind of anything but the task in hand. Baking was when she felt most relaxed, but these days there had been very little time for it. She also knew how much Ged liked her cakes and puddings and how pleased he always seemed to be when she surprised him with something sweet after dinner. The text from Harry earlier that day had been pushed firmly from her mind as she absorbed herself in making something that Ged was sure to love and would go at least a small way to putting them on an even keel again.

  Four hours later and no Ged. Darcy had called his mobile but it was switched off. He hadn’t answered the office phone and his secretary didn’t know where he was. There had been no mention of working late, no after-work meetings, no clients to entertain that she knew about. Darcy paced the kitchen, her patience gradually waning every time Jake or Sophie asked when they could eat. Eventually she had tired of their incessant nagging and had given them jam sandwiches, shortly followed by their chocolate cake, to shut them up, rather than the cottage pie now drying out in the oven that she had made for them all to eat together. Then they had both returned to their separate worlds of internet gaming and cartoon watching until they had gone, complaining bitterly, to bed, leaving Darcy feeling utterly alone.

  Her gaze flicked to the clock again. Only ten minutes had passed since she last looked but it felt like a lifetime. Where the hell was Ged? Images of the car upturned in a ditch somewhere crossed her mind but she shut them out.

  Then the sound of the key in the lock of the front door reached her and Ged appeared at the kitchen doorway. Darcy’s first instinct was to heave a silent sigh of relief as he appeared unharmed and in good spirits. In fact, he looked more cheerful than he had done in months. But the relief soon evaporated and cold fury took its place.

  ‘Where have you been?’

  Ged dropped his briefcase onto the kitchen table and headed for the fridge. Pulling out a bottle of milk, he shrugged slightly. ‘It was Bob Dawson’s retirement do. I wasn’t going to go but as everyone was going on to the Wishing Tree after work for Chinese, they persuaded me to tag along.’ He took a swig of milk straight from the bottle – as if it was an action deliberately designed to goad Darcy, whom he knew hated to see it.

  ‘And you couldn’t give me a bit of warning?’

  ‘I told you, I didn’t know I was going until late this afternoon.’

  ‘I’m sorry…’ Darcy said coldly, ‘but I left my mind reading equipment at Amanda’s so I had no idea where you were. Perhaps a phone call would have been courteous?’

  ‘I didn’t think I was going to be this long.’

  ‘I cooked for you!’

  ‘Yeah, well I didn’t know. Half the time these days you’re missing yourself or too busy to cook any decent food. Bloody hell, get off my case! One night of my life I went out!’ Ged slammed the milk back on the fridge shelf and shoved the door shut. Leaning against it he folded his arms and regarded Darcy with the same belligerence she had seen many times displayed on Jake’s face as she told him off for some childish misdemeanour.

  ‘You could have called me to let me know. It would have taken five minutes…’ Darcy narrowed her eyes. ‘And your mobile was switched off.’

  ‘Ah, now we get to it,’ Ged sneered. ‘You think I’m having an affair.’

  ‘Are you?’ Darcy said, a new and confused range of emotions rushing through her.

  ‘Of course I’m bloody not! Grow up, Darcy.’

  ‘Why was your phone off?’

  ‘Battery was dead.’

  Darcy chewed her lip. He was telling the truth – she could see it in his eyes. But he wasn’t going to admit he was wrong about leaving her in the lurch, she could see that too. It wasn’t in Ged’s nature to ever admit he was wrong. The argument they were having would escalate into something far more tempestuous if one of them didn’t call a ceasefire now – the sort of argument that lasted days and ended in an emotionally draining impasse. They had been here many times before and each time it nibbled away at their fragile goodwill towards one another, undermining the very fabric of the marriage that already hung together on the whisper of a cobweb.

  ‘I was worried about you,’ she finally said.

  ‘I didn’t mean to make you worry,’ he mumbled back.

  There was no running into his arms, no crying, no kiss a
nd make up. There was only Ged peeling off his jacket and throwing it next to his briefcase before heading for the TV, and Darcy staring at the debris he had left for her to clean up, thinking about a text still unanswered on her phone.

  There were so many hotels in Weymouth that it was easy to become anonymous there. Besides, Darcy was as certain as she could be that nobody she knew would spot her amongst the hordes of tourists that swarmed over the bigger town in the summer months. She didn’t come here often – she didn’t really need to – but it seemed safest to disappear in plain sight and Weymouth was far enough from Lyme Regis to be out of the way but not too far to prevent getting home quickly if she needed to. As she sat in the room waiting, the same one she had paid for in cash so it wouldn’t show up on the bank statements, she was paralysed by fear, but also fired by a thrill of excitement. When she had sent the text asking if he could get to Weymouth that morning and then later telling him what room of what hotel to find her in, she felt like a seasoned adulteress and it left a bitter taste in her mouth. She never imagined she could be this person. But at the same time the pull to see him, to have him whisper in her ear, kiss her body, to make her feel beautiful and wanted, was too great to deny.

  There was a soft knock on the door and Darcy leapt up. Her breathing shallow, she crossed the floor, her footsteps muffled by the plush of the deep carpet, and opened it slightly. Harry stood in the doorway, smiling broadly, the flush of desire evident in his face too. Before she had time to open the door, he had pushed against it and was in. Darcy was in his arms with the door slammed behind him in one deft movement. There was no speech, no excuses, no white lies. He kissed her with a fiery need and then lifted her onto the bed.

  Over the next weeks, Darcy became intimately acquainted with the insides of many of Weymouth’s cheaper guesthouses as often as she could. She couldn’t help but reflect that there was something clichéd about their preferred venues, but in the absence of anywhere safer, they had to make do with chintz covered beds and faded wallpaper. There were times when Darcy would lie naked in Harry’s impossibly perfect arms and wonder where it would all end. Once, he had tried to tell her he loved her and she had hushed him with a kiss. She didn’t need to hear his lies – she knew he didn’t love her, but what he gave her was enough.