Page 25 of The Lie
Romy had found her heart breaking. Since Michael’s stroke, all she had been able to think about was what this meant toher, whatshewould have to do and how much she didn’t want to do it. But now she fully focused on Michael’s predicament. How truly terrifying it must feel – for anybody, let alone a man as proud and independent as Michael – to be so reduced, so helpless.
‘I’m going to help you, Michael,’ she heard herself saying, as if the words came out of someone else’s mouth. ‘I’ll stay with you for a while, and we’ll get people in, organize things. Leo will be around too. You’ll be managing without us in no time.’ It sounded so simple as she said it. And so untrue.
Michael blinked, a slow frown forming on his forehead. ‘You’re going to be there?’ he asked, as if he hadn’t heard right.
She nodded.
‘You’d do that for me?’ he said, his face crumpling again.
Romy felt her own eyes pricking. This was a man she had loved so much, once. Really worshipped.Part of me still does, she admitted silently, reminding herself that the notion of leaving her marriage had never even crossed her mind – despite the common marital grouses – until that envelope had dropped through the letter box.
She patted his hand as it rested on the arm of her chair. ‘Of course I will. Just concentrate on getting better, Michael. Things will seem much brighter when you’re in your own bed again.’
Am I so selfish, she asked herself, as she left the ward to get a cup of tea,that I can’t give him a few weeks of my life in his hour of need?What was she scared of? That she would never leave again?My life will still be there, in Sussex, when Michael no longer needs me, she told herself firmly.
The doorbell rang, startling both women, and they jumped up.
Daniel was of medium height and willow-slim, his dark-blond hair cut very short, his fair skin glowing with health. He had a pleasant face, the glance from his light blue eyes shy at first. He looked incredibly young to Romy – even younger than Rex, whom she would have hesitated to leave in sole charge of any sick person.Will he really be able to cope with a cantankerous stroke patient 24/7?she wondered, as she made more coffee and left Bettina chatting to Daniel.
But the boy seemed very confident as Romy filled him in on Michael’s condition and what would be required of him – not that she really had a clue what to expect when her husband came home.
She hired Daniel on the spot, and she and Bettina went out for lunch round the corner to celebrate. He would start on Monday, Michael’s first day home, the only catch being that he didn’t want to move in for another two weeks, when Andreas, his boyfriend, went back to Denmark and they gave up their rented flat. But he agreed to work eight to eight, five days a week until then. Which meant Romy would have to be there during the night at first, and fill in at weekends – or get someone else, like Leo, to do it so she could go home, see Finch – but she was so grateful that she had found someone of his calibre that she didn’t quibble.
When she got back to the flat to wait for the man who was going to install the grab rail in the shower, she called Finch. His phone went to voicemail and she wondered what he was doing.Probably running, she thought, with a smile, imagining his look of intense concentration, the flush on his cheeks as he splashed around the harbour road and wishing she could be there with him.
‘I hope to be down tomorrow or Saturday,’ she said in her message, not sure if she could expect Finch to drop everything for her flying visit. But as she sat on the edge of Michael’s bed, remembering she had to get a super king-size waterproof mattress cover before Monday, her phone rang.
‘Hi,’ she said, so happy to hear his voice.
‘I’m in town tomorrow night,’ Finch said. ‘Got a dinner in the City. So, we could meet up on Saturday morning. Or you could brave another chilly night in the sex-palace?’
Romy laughed. She very much wanted to see him. And she longed to get away from the flat. It felt as if the placewere on tenterhooks, waiting for Michael’s return in strained silence. ‘Won’t you be late back from your dinner?’
‘They usually finish promptly at ten thirty – the old buffers have to get back to the shires. I could be there by eleven, but that’s probably too late for you.’
‘Eleven’s fine,’ she said quickly, having the uneasy sense that she should grab all the moments she could with Finch before she became trapped in the relentless cycle of Michael’s care.
‘Are you all going to be OK without me, Mum?’ Rex had his backpack ready by the front door. He was just about to leave for Heathrow.
Romy gave a wry smile. It had been so strange, seeing him this time. Both of them had been on edge, neither committing to bonding with each other, as they would have done on a planned trip home. Michael had taken up all of their energy. Now, torn between disappointment at her son’s only fleeting visit – she wanted to blurt out, ‘Like you care!’ – and sadness that it would be months before she saw him again, she felt bereft. Dragging him into her arms, she said, ‘I hope the new job goes well, sweetheart. Let me know.’
Rex hugged her close. ‘I’m really sorry I’m leaving you in the lurch.’ He pulled away and looked intently into her face. ‘You do understand, don’t you? Leo’s livid with me.’
‘He’ll get over it,’ she said, hoping she was right. She didn’t want this wretched situation, which was nobody’s fault, to come between her sons. But recently she’d sensedLeo had grown up, while Rex remained stubbornly teenaged, clinging to a student-like existence, where he wandered from job to job – even though he claimed this one was different ? and only worked because he had to.
‘You’ve got Daniel, and I’m sure Dad’ll come on in leaps and bounds once he gets out of that dreary ward,’ Rex went on, his guilty conscience tidying things up neatly so he didn’t have to worry. ‘He’s a tough old bastard, don’t forget.’
‘Let’s hope so,’ Romy said, kissing his cheek, her lips remembering the countless times they had performed the same act of love since the day he was born, her heart wanting to hold her boy tightly in her arms and prevent him from leaving her for the other side of the world.
‘Whoa,’ Romy whispered, as Finch entered the lobby. He looked so handsome, like James Bond in his dinner jacket and black tie. The taxi had dropped her only five minutes before and she felt like someone on a late-night illicit assignation, aware of the watchful eyes of the two staff members behind the reception desk. The thought made her smile and her body buzz with anticipation. There seemed something end-of-the-world-ish about tonight.
‘What’s so funny?’ he asked, as he kissed her cheek, his breath wafting brandy.
‘They probably think I’m a lady of the night, summoned on some dodgy app while your wife snores innocently in your Hampshire vicarage,’ she whispered.
Finch grinned and took her arm. ‘If so, you’re a very classy one.’
The room was warm, the place much more welcoming than Romy remembered from that rainy April night. She sat on the bed and watched Finch take off his jacket and hang it up, stuff his black tie and cufflinks into a pocket.
