‘AreyouOK?’
Pauline smiles shyly. ‘Yes.’
Tilly looks relieved, then swallows hard. ‘Dad’s at a hotel,’ she says, though Pauline didn’t ask and couldn’t care less. ‘He tried to come stay at mine and Misha’s, but I told him to get lost.’ She clears her throat. ‘I talked to him after . . . what you said. He followed me and tried to insist Seb was wrong. He denied it – claimed it was all a misunderstanding about him faking his own death – but it was so obvious. I feel very stupid for having missed it. Seb was right. It was really clear right away, wasn’t it? He didn’t even bother trying to come up with a half-decent story, did he?’ She blinks hard. ‘I can’t believe we – I – believed him.’
Pauline doesn’t answer directly. Instead, she places a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’ she asks and Tilly nods. She heads to the counter where she fills the kettle and watches as it slowly springs to life. Seb hands her three mugs and a spoon, and Pauline takes her time squeezing the bags and adding milk. Plus Seb’s four sugars.
‘He really faked it?’ Tilly asks, though it’s clear she knows. She shakes her head like she is arguing internally with herself. ‘He really did it? Are you . . . Do you really . . .?’ Pauline places a mug in front of Tilly as she finally gets out a question. ‘Why?Why would he do that? To us? To you? Why?’
‘I can’t answer that completely,’ Pauline says sadly, taking a seat opposite her daughter. ‘Because I can’t comprehend why anyone would ever do such a thing. But I do know he was trying to escape me, a lot of debt, and anentanglementhe was caught up in at work.’
‘Debt?’ Tilly looks flabbergasted. ‘And wait, do you mean an affair?’ she asks, eyes wide. They get even wider as Pauline nods her confirmation.
Seb takes the third seat in their triangle and they fall silent again, things sinking in, others falling into place.
‘But things were . . . he was bad before that?’ Tilly asks, and when her mum doesn’t immediately answer, she adds, ‘I’m so sorry for the way I stormed out last night. I need to figure out how to listen. Seb was right.’ Seb playfully widens his eyes at his sister and she gives him a soft punch on the shoulder. ‘Shut up, you idiot.’ She turns back to her mum. ‘You said . . .’ She hesitates, then leans forward, looking earnest. ‘Are you up for explaining? Like, when you said Dad was controlling, what did you mean? I really want you to tell us the truth. The whole truth. I’m so sorry about yesterday. I’m listening now.’
Pauline takes a deep breath, then sips her hot tea. She nods. ‘Do you remember that day you came to pick me up and I wasn’t here? You went looking for me and found me at my friend Teddy’s apartment in west London?’
‘Yes,’ Tilly says quickly. ‘We were supposed to be at a grief counselling session, but you were hanging out with that group of women in that gazillion-pound place in Knightsbridge.’ She pauses, then gives Pauline a soft smile. ‘Still kind of weird, by the way.’
Pauline nods. ‘You found me by looking at that laptop over there.’ She nods towards the countertop where the computer always sits. ‘Via that thing you mentioned, Find My Phone?’
‘Yes,’ Tilly confirms, blowing on her hot tea.
‘Tilly, sweetheart, I didn’t set that up,’ she says. ‘I didn’t know what that app even was until you mentioned it. I hadto google it afterwards. I had no idea there was a way to track someone’s phone like that. But it made so much sense, all of a sudden. That was – is – John’s computer. I was never allowed one because he said I shouldn’t be online too much.’ She takes a deep breath. ‘And now I understand how John always knew where I was all the time. He would turn up at my work randomly. If I had to go on a home site visit, he would appear out of nowhere there, to check what I was doing. I thought he was following me in his car, but I realise now that he was tracking my movements through my phone. He also kept a log with all the times and dates of everything I did.’
Seb reaches for his mum’s hand, holding it gently. She feels him start to tremble.
‘That’s horrible,’ Tilly says in a low voice, staring at the table.
‘He didn’t want me talking to other men, or other people at all, if I’m honest. He isolated me from any friends and family I had.’ She stops, feeling a wave of remorse. ‘And I’m sorry that meant you never got to know your grandparents really. They were such lovely, kind people.’
‘Dad always said they were horrible, your mum and dad,’ Seb says almost to himself. ‘He acted like he was saving you by keeping all of us away from them. Helping you escape.’
Pauline shakes her head. ‘They were very good, nice people, my mum and dad. I miss them every day. He wanted me as far away from them as possible. It’s why we bought this house in Surrey all those years ago. My family lived in Carlisle which is about a six-hour drive. So of course we couldn’t possibly visit.’ She pauses. ‘I’m sorry,’ she adds simply and Seb moves his chair closer, circling an arm around her.
‘It’s not your fault, Mum!’ he tells her earnestly. ‘I’m so sorry I didn’t realise how bad it was. I didn’t understand.’
Across the table, Tilly looks wretched. ‘This is all so confusing. I thought he was a good dad, wasn’t he?’ She sounds desperate. ‘I know he wasn’t around much, but when he was, he was nice, wasn’t he?’
Pauline nods. ‘Well, I suppose people can be more than one thing. Someone can do bad things at home but still go out and do charity or love their friends.’
Seb points a finger. ‘Hitler was a vegetarian painter.’
‘He could be a bad husband and a good dad.’ Pauline ignores Seb’s unhelpful input.
‘That day at the roller coaster,’ Tilly says mistily, and Pauline looks down, remembering the passion with which her daughter told the story during their therapy session. Tilly’s favourite memories of John.
‘Tilly,’ she says carefully, suddenly unsure how much more honesty her daughter can survive. ‘Those two memories you shared with the counsellor, Gerald . . . I’m so sorry, sweetheart, but they weren’t quite right. You told him about a Christmas Day with a video camera, recordingSleeping Beauty, and another one at the theme park, where your dad went on the big scary ride with you and got sick.’ Her daughter nods and Pauline takes a deep breath. ‘My love, those were me. They weren’t John. They were times with me. Your dad wasn’t there for either of those days, those . . . memories. My parents actually sent us that video camera for Christmas. Your father was away at some snooker tournament for the whole week over the festive period. I’m the one who spent all day helping you rehearse your show. And when he came back and I told him who the camera wasfrom, he got really cross. He smashed it up and posted the pieces back to my mum and dad. It was the last time they sent me a gift. That’s why we only ever recordedSleeping Beauty. You asked me for months afterwards if we could film something else and you hated me when I kept saying no. But I couldn’t tell you what had really happened to that Christmas gift.’ She sighs. ‘And that day at the theme park, he didn’t come with us. He said it sounded like hell, all those queues and all those children. I’m sorry, but I’m the one frightened by roller coasters. I’m the one who was sick afterwards but still went on again when you asked. I’m sorry, Tills. I really am. I don’t want to take away any good memories and good feelings you have for your dad, but I need you to understand who he really is. And why I need to get away from him.’
Tilly shakes her head, looking bereft as she tries to take in her mum’s words. She’s having to reassess so much of what she thought about her own life and the memories she created. She swallows, then looks suddenly fierce. ‘I wish all those idiots on the internet were right about the car crash. I wish youhadkilled him, Mum.’
Pauline reaches for her hand. ‘You don’t mean that.’
Beside her, Seb nods. ‘I kind of agree with Tills.’
Pauline looks pensive. ‘Well, since I’m being very honest with you, I’ll admit I felt the same for quite a while.’ She clears her throat, thinking of the pillow she’d held over John’s prone body. It’s back in the study. ‘And I still want him punished for everything he did to me, but for now, I just needed to tell you both the truth.’
