Page 20 of Wife After Wife
Katie was silent. A thousand thoughts scrambled for attention. Cass had betrayed her too. And almost certainly Charles. An iciness was creeping through her veins.
Who else knew?
“The wife’s always the last to know, so they say.”
“Katie, I—”
“How long have you known?” Her voice was flat. She expected to feel anger, but there was only sorrow.
“Oh god, Katie, I’m so sorry you found out. Believe me, when Charles told me, I drove myself mad wondering what to do. He begged me not to tell you, said it wouldn’t help anyone. But, Katie, I had no idea it was still going on. How did you find out? That’s if he’s still with... I’ve forgotten her name.”
Katie wasn’t fooled. Cassandra had been about to mention a name, but if ithadn’tbeen whoever that was, that would mean more than one other woman.Hadthere been more than one? Katie felt the world shift beneath her feet again. All these years, no matter what they’d been through, she’d thought, deep down, she and Harry were solid as a rock. But there had been an earthquake.
“It’s a barmaid,” she said. “Terrible cliché, I know. And she’s even a badly dyed blonde.” She looked down at her hands in her lap. They were shaking. “I used to know her, actually. She worked in the Dog and Duck, left just before I stopped work at the gallery. Angus will remember her, all the guys fancied her. Obvious type. Looks like Madonna. Or at least, tries hard to.” Being bitchy was helping, though Katie had in fact liked Bennie and had envied her ability to strike up an easy conversation with any old punter at the bar.
“Yes, I’d heard about her. It was Angus who told Charles; he saw them together in Soho. But that was ages ago. How come you just found out?” She opened the packet of sandwiches and held it out to Katie.
Katie shook her head. So Angus had known too. Katie’s boss.
“We bumped into her at the zoo. She was there with her son— he’s called Henry. He looks the same as Maria. And he called Harry ‘Dadda.’”
Cassandra’s sandwich made it only halfway to her mouth. “Oh my god. Shit. Oh, Katie.”
“Indeed. So you didn’t know about that part, then?”
“No, of course not. I would have said something. God, Katie, a child? I wonder if Charles knows.”
“Would he have told you if he did?”
“I honestly don’t know.” She sighed. “When did we all start keeping secrets from each other, Katie?”
They were silent. Cassandra uncorked the wine and poured them both a plastic cupful. “Where would we be without this, eh?”
“It’s a bit early for me. I’ve got to look after Maria this afternoon.”
“No you haven’t, Debbie’s ours for the day. Darling, what are you going to do?”
“I want to leave London. Start a new life in the country. I’ve wanted to for a while, so this is the push I needed. Harry’s agreed. He seems to want to save our marriage.”
“So... you’re not going to divorce him, or kick him out?”
“Divorce is against my faith. And, well, I can’t imagine...” Emotion rushed in and she crumpled, resting her head on her arms, racked by sobs.
Cassandra hurried around to Katie’s side of the table and rubbed her back. “There, there, darling, let it all out. Bloody men. Bloody bastard stupid fucking men.”
Katie’s sobs eventually subsided to hiccups, and she fished for tissues in her handbag. She blew her nose and wiped her eyes. “Sorry. I seem to have misplaced that stiff upper lip your mother said we need at these times.”
“Better out than in,” said Cassandra. “And my mother was talking bollocks. Here, have some wine. So, what—”
“And besides,” interrupted Katie, picking up from where she’d left off, “I don’t want Maria to grow up only seeing her father at weekends. I see those weekend dads here in the park. It’s too sad. And I want her to have brothers and sisters. I’ve always wanted a big family.”
Cassandra bit her lip. “Katie, sweetheart. You’re still young. There’s no rush for another child. Perhaps, if you want to make it work, you need to focus more on Harry?”
“I can’t believe you’d say that! After what I’ve just told you!”
“I’m not excusing him—I’m trying to help you mend things. You’re so swept up with darling Maria, sometimes men feel neglected, they don’t like being second in line. Poor sausages. And I know from bitter experience what happens when men feel ignored.”
“You mean—”
