But with Dan ... I thought we were solid and yet I’d messed it all up with my lies. Why did I have to pretend to be perfect to him?
He must have hated it when I told him, hated knowing how much I’d lied to him. But he’d never said a word of reproach to me.
‘Dan ...’ I begin, and suddenly the rain decides to give it a good lash and I yell at the kids to come back, start extracting coats from my rucksack and say we’ll have to run back to the car.
We’re running but the rain is beating us. Now it’s a wild tattoo and Dan hasn’t moved.
I reach the car with the kids and stow them in, then turning back to where Dan stands about two hundred yards away,raincoat-less, being rained on.
I run back to him, frantic now.
‘Please,’ I say, ‘we can fix it, Dan. Don’t go,’ I say. ‘I am so sorry—’
‘I love you,’ he interrupts and he looks a little bit haunted. ‘But ...’
I hang my head, feeling the water making this stupid dresssee-through. I’m cold now.
‘Dan, don’t do this,’ I say. ‘I’m sorry, I love you and I never meant to lie, I simply didn’t know how to tell the truth: that I was falling apart. I thought I had to be strong ...’
‘No,’ he says,’ you don’t understand. I can’t forgive myself. You went through all this and I never knew. I should have known and I’ve let you down. That night you told me about the tablets, that was the worst night of my life. I had let you down. I hadn’t been there and you weren’t able to tell me.’
I turn my head up to the rain and let it flow down my face.
‘Youletmedown?’ I say, loving the feel of the rain. ‘I thought I’d let you down. I love you, Dan Conroy. Love you. I thought you wanted to divorce me.’
‘No! I love you, adore you. I’d be lost without you, Freya.’ He grabs me now and we’re both wet from the rainstorm and then he’s humming crazily, ‘It Had To Be You,’ and I’m laughing, trying to dance with him but I’ve always been a terrible dancer.
‘I—’ I start, and he starts to say ‘I—’ at exactly the same time.
‘I lied,’ I say.
‘We all lie sometimes, and you wanted to get strong by yourself, Freya,’ he says, his head bent to mine. ‘If it had been me, I wouldn’t have shared it all. I’d have tried to man up and deal with it all myself. I know I would.’
‘Really?’
He nods. ‘I love how strong you are, my beautiful wife, but I love all of you. Not just the strong, but the vulnerable, the wet hair ...’
I laugh. We’re both wet, dripping, in fact. The rain is pelting down.
‘I love your wet hair, too,’ I say. ‘I love you.’
‘I love you better.’
‘Best.’
‘Bestest.’
There’s a distant banging and I see Teddy with her head stuck out the window like a dog.
‘I’m hungry,’ she roars. ‘Ice cream!’
Call yourself a chef, you dizzy thing,says Mildred.You haven’t organised any snacks in the car, have you? Mindfulness is all well and good but you have to think about the future too, you know.
