Perhaps today would put her mind at ease. They’d both taken a day off with the express purpose of spending it together – no property solicitor tasks for her, no going into his dental practice for Alex. Simply a day as a married couple.
As she sifted through the post a pale blue envelope immediately caught her eye. Postmarked Anchor Island, this letter was from the place she’d left behind a long time ago.
‘You ready?’ Alex came up behind her, the cool box in one hand.
With his dark hair and tanned skin like he surfed the ocean every day rather than worked indoors, Alex was still good-looking at forty-seven. He hadn’t changed all that much since their wedding day, aside from a few lines on his face and bits of grey in his beard when he didn’t shave for a while. It wasn’t fair. Women drew the short straw when it came to changes as they got older. Already she’d got a rounding in her tummy she’d never had before, it felt as though the muscles she’d once had in her arms had lost a lot of their oomph, and she had aches and pains at the end of the day that ten or twenty years ago she’d never felt.
‘Almost,’ she told him, the pile of post still in her hand. ‘I’m just seeing if the quote for the driveway is amongst this lot.’ Their driveway needed levelling, resurfacing and two potholes filling in, and she’d requested quotes for a new garage door because the existing one had damaged panels and rust – hardly surprising, given they hadn’t touched it since they’d moved in.
The quote wasn’t amongst the letters, so she decided to deal with the blue envelope first. But as she started to tear it open, Alex picked up his keys and made for the front door. ‘I’ll be in the car.’
The atmosphere was tense enough between them and she didn’t want to add to it by making him wait, so she put the envelope down. She could take it in the car with her but she’d rather not. Whatever Aunt Gayle had to say would have to wait.
‘I just need to use the bathroom,’ she called after Alex’s retreating back. She wasn’t sure if he’d even heard her.
As she used the downstairs toilet, she wondered what was inside the blue envelope. It wasn’t her birthday or any other special occasion that warranted correspondence. She tried not to think about the island much, but when a letter arrived, she was right back there, thoughts churning over and over in her mind.
Most likely the letter inside the blue envelope would be another request from Aunt Gayle for the sisters to go to the island and sort through their dad’s things. They’d do it, eventually, but the thought of going back there filled her with dread.
Aunt Gayle had become their guardian when their father, Harry, passed away just three years after Susanna and Addie lost their mother, Cynthia. The sisters had had to watch as their semi-detached Edwardian house – just over a mile from the lively heart of the city of Oxford – had been packed up and emptied. They’d been driven down to Portsmouth by their grandparents where they’d met their dad’s sister, their Aunt Gayle, and the three of them had boarded an enormous ferry to take them across the Channel to Guernsey where they’d transferred to a smaller ferry to take them to Anchor Island. Susanna had been fourteen, Addie only eight, and she could still remember the eerie silence between them all as they travelled from their old life to a new one, the wind whipping against their skin, and the assault of salt water which left its residue in their hair long after they’d stepped onto dry land again. As they’d docked, Susanna had whispered to Addie that this wasn’t forever. And later that night at their aunt’s cottage they’d made a pact to leave Anchor Island as soon as they were old enough.
The only time Susanna forgot her plans to flee was when she met Mateo Collins. Four years older than her, he had a maturity she was drawn to and all of a sudden she had someone in her life just for her. They had a passion she’d never expected and had never forgotten. She’d stayed out past curfew with Mateo, she’d got drunk more than once. Oh, how they’d laughed too, and she’d felt wild, free, like an entirely different person. But Aunt Gayle had soon put an end to the relationship and Susanna had never been able to forgive her for what she did.
She was about to head out to the car when she spotted the Post-it she’d slipped into the porch mirror as a reminder to pay the window cleaner. Alex usually took care of it, but a flustered call from their window cleaner this morning while Alex was taking his time in the shower proved that he hadn’t.
She leaned out of the front door, held up a hand to Alex to indicate she was on her way, but he was sitting with his eyes closed in the driver’s seat of his shiny Lexus.
She went into his study. He’d have the details for payment in the file in his desk where they kept all the bills.
She paused when she saw his doodles on the jotter pad next to his keyboard. Those drawings were one of his little habits that amused her and true to form there was a row of stick people of varying heights next to a doodle of a house with a chimney sticking out of its roof and smoke drifting upwards. She had no idea what the drawings meant but she’d always found it an endearing habit.
She was about to leave when she spotted the familiar logo of a posh restaurant poking out from a piece of paper beneath the jotter and out of curiosity, she pulled it out fully. They’d been to the venue for their last wedding anniversary, celebrating with a good bottle of bubbly and beautiful food. Except this receipt wasn’t old. It was from a recent meal. The booking date was last week and judging by the total amount either Alex had eaten a meal fit for two kings by himself, or he’d had company.
She put the receipt back where she found it, went outside and locked up behind her. She walked towards the car, avoiding the pothole she’d been stepping over for as long as she could remember.
She knew full well her husband was hiding something now. It was hardly a trip to a Harvester, or Pizza Hut, that he’d neglected to mention. The restaurant was classy, only for special occasions, and it hurt that he’d clearly shared it with someone else. She felt sick at the prospect of who that person might be.Was it someone from work? It had to be. Was it a patient? Why hadn’t he told her about it?
She looked across at him as he reversed out of the driveway. She should ask him outright.
But when he turned briefly to face her as he pulled away, she couldn’t do it. She was scared, terrified of her whole world imploding.
As they drove towards the parking area where they’d access the river, the September sun was out in full force and there was absolutely no sign of rain. It should’ve been the start of a perfect day but how could it be now? Already she wished she could lose herself in a complex property dispute instead of having to face up to her own personal problems and the possibility that her husband was cheating on her. He’d been cagey for a while and she’d tried to tell herself she was imagining things, but now she knew she wasn’t. If that dinner had been innocent, it’s the sort of thing he would’ve told her about – he’d have detailed the courses he’d chosen, the fine wine he’d selected, baulked at the cost but said it was worth it. Just like they’d done together before.
She needed a distraction. She opened her banking app on her phone and paid the window cleaner. When she explained what she was doing Alex claimed to have forgotten and didn’t flinch when she announced she’d been into his study to get the details. Maybe he hadn’t ever expected her to be suspicious and that’s why he hadn’t hidden the receipt away. Or perhaps he wasn’t that clever, maybe he’d made a mistake.
Why had he agreed to spend the day with her if he had someone else?
Unless he’d ended an affair to save his marriage.
She felt like she wanted to run far away, make it all stop, put a pause on her life. But no chance of that.
With Alex focused on the road and not making much attempt to talk she looked out of the car window, her mind back to the day she and Alex had gone to the same restaurant and toasted their marriage, their future.
Was he really having an affair?
Alex pulled into the car park and found one of the few remaining spaces before they took everything they needed down to the nearest patch of green space looking out at the River Cam. Peals of laughter from a nearby group clearly not used to punting along the river accompanied the gentle swish of water beneath the flat-bottomed boat that glided in the opposite direction. Mild days like this would soon be put to one side until the spring.
‘You okay?’ Alex asked after they’d laid out the picnic rug and weighted it down with the cool box at one end and their shoes at the other.
