Chapter 7

John picked up the book and slumped back into his favourite armchair. He smoothed down the creased pages, caressing them with the tips of his fingers, and placed the book behind him.

'It's not what you think, Caroline,' he whimpered.

'Oh, and what do I think, John? Tell me.' Caroline had yet to sit. She paced about the room, determined to keep tears at bay. She knew she needed to think clearly and anger would better serve her purpose. She dragged both hands repeatedly through her hair.

'You're assuming that Judith is my, well, that we are.' He stopped mid-sentence.

'You and Judith are; that's very philosophical. You are.….what? Come on John, astound me with your erudition. While you're at it furnish me with the truth too.'

'She gave it to me in Kefalonia. It was a joke. A wind-up.'

'I've no doubt she gave you something in Kefalonia but I doubt it was just a book. If it was a joke why didn't you show it to me at the time?'

Seconds ticked by and silence hung heavily.

'I'm waiting, John. Come on. Why?'

'Because I knew you'd over-think it all and I didn't want the aggravation. For you. I didn't want to upset you.'

The physical tiredness of her day suddenly caught up with her and Caroline reluctantly sat down, fidgeting on the edge of the settee facing John.

'Uh-huh. Considerate,' she countered. 'Something else occurs to me. On holiday you said you didn't know what Jude was short for. Well, her name is there on the inscription; so, you did know, didn't you? Why make a thing about not knowing?'

'Well, I didn't really look at it. I mean I didn't realise she'd written in it.'

Caroline watched as her husband continued to dig himself into a deeper hole, but she felt nothing akin to pleasure in witnessing the process. She was determined, but struggling, to fend off an acute ache of absolute devastation; feeling overwhelmed by circumstances that threatened to tear apart the lives of the whole family. Accustomed to being in control at home and work, she did not know how to deal with the engulfing helplessness, a gaping hole of vulnerability. For some minutes neither of them spoke.

'So, Judith lives in Kefalonia.' A statement, not a question but its intention was to draw out a response.

'Yes, of course. You know that she gave me a guided tour of the island and filled me in on some of the history.'

'Has she ever been to England?'

John was thrown by that question, unsure why Caroline was asking it, so he hesitated over how he should reply. He decided that elusiveness would be his best option.

'Oh, not sure. I guess she probably has.'

'And she gave this book to you in Kefalonia?'

'Of course.' He sensed that his wife was pulling him into something that he might be best to avoid. Taking control of the conversation seemed a better option. 'Caroline, nothing's going on or has gone on between me and Judith. Or anyone else, come to that. You're my world. You know that. I'm sorry not to have been honest with you about Judith giving me the book but that's all I've lied about.' The drowning man did his best to look sincere but there was a tick around the corner of his left eye, a tell-tale sign that Caroline knew well.

'How did you get the book back home, John?' Like a dog with a bone she maintained her focus.

'In the case. In my suitcase.'

'Who packed your suitcase?' Caroline shouted the question as she stood up again, unable to keep still. Her breathing rate had quickened, her sweaty hands clenched into fists. She was losing control of her restraint, longing to pound into him.

'You did,' John answered, 'as always. I put the book into the case afterwards, after you'd packed on that last night, and put it in my laptop bag as soon as we got home. I'm sorry. I was wrong. I should have been honest with you about the book.'

'What did I say to you when I started this conversation? Do you remember? Firstly, I asked who she is. Secondly, I told you that I know she isn't a Greek guide. Remember?'

John nodded his head but as Caroline had her back to him, staring into the fireplace, she didn't think he'd answered. She turned angrily and crossed the room, hitting him with both fists on each side of his head.

'ANSWER ME, YOU BASTARD!' she screamed while she continued to pummel him. Her physical strength was failing and the contact light, but the symbolism hurt more than the action itself.

'I did, I did. Please stop.' John began to cry.

Caroline's tears flowed too then, the release of her anger opening the floodgates. She sunk to the floor and John reached his hand out to comfort his wife. She smacked his hand away before crawling across the floor to put space between them. Curling into a ball in a corner of the room, her tears still flowed, and sobs echoed around the room. It was many minutes before she regained some composure.

Eventually she sat up, leaning heavily against the wall.

'You can move out, John. The spare room tonight and then don't bother coming back home after Cardiff or wherever it is that you reckon to be going. I'll tell the boys over the weekend.'

'For what reason? For God's sake, Caroline, that's so unfair. What have I done?'

'Lied. Deceived. Fornicated.' The blonde counted the accusations on her fingers as she spat them out. 'You can't even lie consistently, so I shouldn't be surprised that you can't be truthful.'

'I can't move out; we're married. I love you. The boys. What about the boys?'

'You should have thought about the boys before you screwed around. Think about it, John. You didn't show me the book because you thought I might be upset at the inscription but now you say that you didn't know the inscription was even there. I know for a fact that you did not take the book out of the suitcase as soon as we got home because I unlocked and unpacked it while you went out to pick up milk and bread. Oh, and all your lies are unnecessary because Judith didn't even give the book to you in Kefalonia.'

Caroline rummaged in her cardigan pocket and pulled out a now crumpled piece of paper.

'It's a receipt dated two days ago from the bookshop next to the campus. You know the one, John; it's the bookshop that prints the book title and author's name on the receipt.' She paused briefly and took a deep breath. 'Now tell me you haven't been shagging someone as well as me over the last God knows how long. Go on, be honest. Why, John, why? I knew you were a lady's man. You charmed me, after all, so if I know anything I know that. What's she got that I haven't or what have I got that she hasn't. Come on, I'm waiting!'

'I'm confused, Caroline. You've muddled what I've said. That's typically you, with your lawyer-like argument. You've got me so I'm struggling to know what my own name is.'

Caroline stood up and re-crossed the room. John flinched at her approach.

'Don't worry, I'm not going to waste any more energy on you. I don't need you to tell me because I've worked it out, John. God, I've been slow. You've given me the pieces and I've finally completed the picture. She works at the University. I remember now when you said about going to Kefalonia you mentioned someone at Uni had told you about the island. She's why you've been spending so much time away from this house. That's why you were specific about WHEN we should go on holiday. Your publisher didn't contact you at all at the end of July or start of August. Francis didn't determine the dates of our holiday. I'm assuming it was down to when Judith could be there.'

John could barely hold his head upright. He knew words were useless. He'd always known that his wife was a powerful ally. Now he appreciated what a mighty foe she could be, and he did not like this new reality.

'Well, I hope she's worth it. I hope she's worth what you've thrown away. If I'm not right then you should be able to counter what I've been saying with the truth, but the truth of it is that you can't. There's no point in denying it. Just satisfy me with answering one, just one, question truthfully.'

John looked up at his wife as she towered over him.

'Why?'

A loving, thoughtful or sensible man would have found a way around this question, but John had already proven himself to have none of those attributes.

'She's fun.'

ooOoo

John spent the night in the spare room, but not wanting Lawrence and William to know, he was up and about early. He hoped to speak to his wife before the boys woke so he climbed the stairs with a tray of breakfast for her, putting his head tentatively around the door. Caroline sat at the window, duvet wrapped around her.

'Can I come in?'

'No.'

'Please, Caroline. I'll cancel the trip to Cardiff. We can talk some more, can't we? Celia can have the boys and we can go away for the weekend.' He hadn't yet dared to venture further than the doorway so kept his voice low in case William and Lawrence overheard.

'No.'

'It's nearly twenty years that we've got behind us. Surely that can help us through this?'

Caroline turned to look at John, her face etched with exhaustion. She had spent a sleepless night re-evaluating the options and challenging the decision she had made the previous evening. As she went through everything, repeatedly, as the minutes ticked by, her brain was bombarded by thoughts and emotions, many of them contradictory. Yes, she had been charmed by him; yes, she had fallen in love with him all those years ago, and she thought they'd been happy. But it was if this bolt from the blue put the spotlight on all that they had and found it wanting. Had they been trading on past glory and failed to realise it until now? Surely it would be worthwhile to go back to the beginning and try again?

Trying to play devil's advocate she criticised her own part in it all. So, he reckoned, it happened because Judith was fun. Caroline could not deny that she had lost some ability to enjoy the here and now but much of that she felt justified in laying at John's door. He was a husband, a father, when it suited him. He treated her, and the boys to some extent, as props to shore up his existence and bolster his ego. Her night-time deliberations were uncomfortable in the extreme but confirmed that she did not know, and at that moment in time no longer wanted to know, the man who was now standing before her.

'You can take the boys to school and then you can bugger off to Wales. I've said all that I intend or want to say to you. I haven't slept. I'm not going to Sulgrave today. Tell the boys that I'm not feeling well. I'll get mum to pick them up this afternoon. Oh, and you can take your fucking peace offering and shut the door on your way out.'

Realisation beginning to hit him, he whispered a few words, as much to himself as to his wife.

'Nothing, nobody is worth losing you.'

As he picked up the tray and closed the door he heard her sobbing response.

'I won't tell the boys but you're to stay away until I tell you.'

ooOoo

Celia decided that she would take herself into town and look at the end-of-season sale in M & S. Her car keys were not where she thought she'd left them and the search was beginning to take the shine off her plans. Giving up on finding them in her flat she went outside to check if she'd left them in the ignition.

'If I have, I'm not telling anyone,' she said aloud as stepped into the garden, not noticing her daughter approaching from the main house.

'What is it that you're not going to tell me about?'

'Oh, Caroline! You made me jump. What are...' she stopped in her tracks. 'Whatever is the matter? You look terrible.'

'Mum!' was all that Caroline could say as she staggered into a hug.

Celia was already two steps ahead and needed no spoken explanation.

ooOoo

'Could have knocked me down with a feather when Beverley said that Caroline was off sick. I've been here five years and I've only known her to have time off once and that was last winter when the whole school was dropping with Norovirus. Has Lawrence said anything? He's in your form group, isn't he?'

Kate was chatting with a colleague while they waited for the staff-room kettle to boil.

'No, he's not mentioned anything, but I doubt that he would,' replied Kate, knowing that her lips would have been sealed anyway. 'Coffee, no sugar?' She busied herself with their drinks, mindful of the previous evening and not wanting to give anything away in her words or manner.

Once home from school, when she had time to herself, Kate wondered whether it would be appropriate to text her best wishes to Caroline. She couldn't imagine that anyone in Caroline's position would phone in sick because of a simple misunderstanding, however personal its content, but if it was enough to cause the extreme reaction evident during their journey home, who knew what else might result? Initially concluding that she would leave well alone, she could not stop thinking about the events of the previous evening. Certainly, Caroline seemed to become very quiet when the woman asked if they were in a relationship. Or, she wondered, was it rather that she had reacted to Kate's answer? She wracked her brain to think exactly what she'd said.

'Your gaydar's only 50% effective.'

Yes, that was it, word for word. What if the change in Caroline resulted from learning that Kate was gay? Surely that would be ridiculous for the twenty-first century? But Kate's brain told her that she was missing something. Something else happened afterwards to make it worse. As if a light came on, she knew. There was a further step-change when Caroline looked at the book. While she wasn't sure what that signified, she felt slightly better by knowing that she wasn't the sole cause of Caroline's behaviour.

'Hi Caroline. Hoping you'll feel better soon. Kate.' She pressed the send key, closed her phone and headed upstairs to run a bath.