A Close Connection (16 page)

‘I
T’S ME
. I’
M
back in Plymouth. On my own. Can we meet? I need to see you.’

His grip on the phone tightened and Matthew glanced round the office, but everybody was busy and nobody was remotely interested in his phone conversation. He turned his head slightly away, however, hoping that nobody was earwigging.

‘How dare you ring me at work?’ he said, voice low.

‘Would you prefer that I ring you at home? I don’t have your mobile number. If you remember, you chose not to give it to me.’

‘I don’t think we should meet,’ he said, feeling the pressure as, across the room, somebody waved a hand at him, trying to attract his attention. ‘I don’t want you calling my wife again telling her that I’m harassing you when nothing is further from the truth. I don’t want you to see you again, Chrissie. I tried to be polite because I didn’t want to hurt your feelings but I really do not want to see you again.’

‘I know that but I need to set a few things straight and this will be the last time. There is something very important that I need to tell you. I tried to tell you before but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.’

‘Damn you,’ he muttered. ‘But this had better be good.’

A time and place was agreed and he spent the rest of the morning thinking about it. He should have said no. Was he showing some weakness in agreeing to meet the woman who he was increasingly thinking was off her rocker? If this turned into a stalking situation proper then he would have to do something about it and he would leave her in no doubt this lunchtime about that. Her decision to ring Nicola had changed what had merely been a chance encounter with a face in the past, into something more important. By involving Nicola, Chrissie had upped the ante big time and he needed to get this sorted out once and for all.

She was supposedly a happily married woman or at the least she had been at pains to make it appear like that, and he was most definitely a happily married man. Nicola was being sweet to him these days when he knew he had been a bit off with her, worrying about this and that, some of it work-related because the big client was proving to be the most awkward guy he had ever dealt with. However she would not be so sweet with him if she found out that he was seeing Chrissie again so the first thing he needed to do was to ring her and tell her about this new development.

‘I’m just about to meet some clients.’ Nicola’s voice was brisk. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing’s wrong,’ he reassured her quickly. ‘But Chrissie’s rung me and asked me to meet for lunch. She says it’s the last time but she has something desperately important to tell me.’

‘She has a cheek. Do you want me to come with you? I could just about manage it if I set off after my meeting,’ Nicola asked. ‘That will make it wonderfully inappropriate won’t it, if you turn up with me in tow?’

‘It’s not funny,’ he told her. ‘It’s getting beyond a joke. I’ve never tried to contact her since she spoke to you and let her dare say I have.’

‘Perhaps she needs closure,’ Nicola said. ‘Honestly, Matthew, just get it over with, but leave her in no doubt that this is the last time. Let her talk.’

‘No danger of her not doing that.’

‘Let her talk and then say goodbye and do tell her not to bother you again or this time it will be you accusing her of harassment. I think you have to be very firm about that. Poor besotted soul, she obviously can’t take no for an answer.’

He felt marginally better that he had told Nicola and that she was taking it so well, but he felt some trepidation nonetheless as he made his way to the no-nonsense department-store café Chrissie had chosen as the venue. At least they could merge into the background here and after a brief nod of greeting – no hugs – they quickly got themselves a coffee and a couple of sandwiches before making their way to a corner table.

She looked very pale and very tired. She was wearing jeans, the same ones surely, tucked into high leather boots, and a silvery fur – faux fur he presumed – jacket. Her hair was faux red too, if there was such a term, and it didn’t look good, dark roots showing, the style now looking just plain messy. She looked all of thirty-one, older even, and he felt bad for noticing, knowing how women hated to be reminded of the advancing years. She was too thin at that, her shape revealed as she shook off the jacket.

‘How is your mother?’ he asked politely, after they had extracted the sandwiches from their tricky packaging.

‘She’s not got long.’ she said. ‘It’s spread to everywhere so it’s just a matter of weeks. Days even. I’ve decided to stay until it’s over.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that. Is she in hospital?’

‘No. She’s back home being looked after by a Macmillan nurse. I’ve just popped out. I needed to get out.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he repeated. ‘It must be hard for you.’

‘It is. Marcus couldn’t come with me because of his schedule and I didn’t want the children to see their grandmother in this state. They are being looked after,’ she added as if worried that he might think she had just abandoned them.

‘They will be missing you.’

She nodded. ‘It’s very difficult. She’s shrunk. She’s just a tiny lady now and she’s had enough.’

‘You just have to stay strong for her,’ he said, feeling a little helpless in this situation, understanding now why she looked quite as rough as she did. He wanted to reach for her hand, squeeze it, offer some sympathy but at the same time, he did not want her to get the wrong end of the stick. Women were so much better at this sympathy lark and he hoped to God she was not going to break down in front of him. She looked in control, but you never knew for sure.

‘I wanted to meet face to face to apologize for what I did. I should never have rung your wife. I don’t know what came over me. I’m sorry.’

‘Nicola knows we’re meeting today so there’s nothing hole-in-the-corner about this,’ he told her.

‘What did she say?’

‘She feels sorry for you.’

‘Why?’

He shrugged. They were not here to talk about his wife, his very understanding wife, but it seemed that Chrissie was not about to let it go.

‘Was she very upset when I rang her?’

‘What do you think?’ he snapped, patience already wearing thin. ‘But she didn’t take it too seriously when I explained. She might have taken it seriously, though, if she hadn’t been so understanding, and it could have caused a big bust-up so it wasn’t a very bright thing for you to do, was it? Why did you do it? You are happily married. It sounds as if you have a great life with the kids and everything. You have no reason to feel
insecure surely?’

‘Oh, Matthew, you have no idea. I would leave him tomorrow if I could. He’s controlling. He’s not violent, nothing like that, but he controls me emotionally,’ she said. ‘We fell out of love a long time ago, but the children …’ She sighed, putting down her slice of granary bread. ‘It’s not so easy when there are children, so I have to swallow my pride and stay.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, feeling genuinely sorry. ‘And I’m sorry to keep saying that. Can you talk to anybody?’

‘I’m talking to you, aren’t I?’ she said crisply. ‘It brought it all to a head seeing you again. It made me realize that if my mum hadn’t whisked me away then you and I would have got engaged and then married. We were a pair, Matthew, you and me. We were meant for each other. We would have been so very happy together.’

‘I don’t know about that,’ he said, trying to laugh that one off. ‘We were very young and I was about to go off to university. My mum reckons it would have faded away in any case.’

‘What does she know about it?’ The response was immediate. ‘She never liked me, Matthew.’

‘That’s not true. My mother likes everybody. At least she always looks for the good side of everybody.’

‘She did not like me. She thought I was too needy. She thought I was going to ruin your concentration. She once said as much in a roundabout way. But I think we would have found a way to be together, you and me. Didn’t it mean anything to you at all?’

He was starting to feel uncomfortable as memories stirred. She was his first girlfriend, his first lover; his mother had thought it a platonic friendship but it had been more than that. Supposed to be studying, they slept together in his bedroom with the door unlocked and that had added to the excitement, for it meant somebody could walk in at any moment and that had bothered him more than it had Chrissie. His parents
never had disturbed them because they respected his privacy, trusted him when he said that Chrissie was helping him with the studying, but Lucy had once caught them together and he had to swear her to silence.

‘Lucy didn’t like me either,’ Chrissie said now, reminding him further. ‘But then the feeling was mutual. Who did she think she was? Your keeper?’

‘My sister,’ he said, and suddenly it was too much. He guessed she had chosen this venue deliberately because it was not the place for an argument. ‘And don’t bring her into it.’

‘I was sorry to hear about what happened to her,’ she said. ‘Bad luck.’

‘Bad luck?’ he echoed the words, aghast at the casual tone. ‘It was the worst thing that has ever happened to me in my life.’

‘Worse than me leaving you?’

‘For God’s sake, Chrissie, Lucy died. You can’t compare it.’ He paused, gathering himself together because he felt like leaving. ‘Why are we here? What’s the real reason? I’m not going to see you again, Chrissie. That would be one very bad idea.’

‘I know. Don’t worry, I’m not intending to harass you any more,’ she said, the slightest of smiles – or was it a sneer? – covering her lips. She was wearing very pale pink lipstick and a lot of dark eye make-up, giving her a ghostly appearance. ‘I just wanted to set the record straight.’

‘And…?’

‘I wanted you to know that I was pregnant when I left, pregnant with your baby.’

‘What?’

‘Why do you think we made such a quick move? It wasn’t just about my mum and my stepdad, it was about me too. Mum acted like she was in some sort of Victorian melodrama when she found out. She could not bear the shame of her 16-year-old
daughter having a baby, she said, and my stepdad had the chance of this job in Kent so it was an ideal opportunity. We moved away and nobody, none of Mum’s friends, was any the wiser.’

‘You were very nearly seventeen,’ he said stupidly as if that made any difference, trying to take this in. A baby? He was a father already, then. ‘What happened?’ He was doing a quick calculation and fast coming to the conclusion that somewhere out there, there was a 14-year-old child belonging to him. ‘Where is it? Did you have it adopted?’

‘I lost it,’ she said. ‘So you needn’t look so worried. I never had any intention of having it and I managed somehow to give myself an abortion. It’s a wonder I didn’t kill myself or make it impossible for me to have more children. I suppose I was lucky there.’

His heart settled back into a steady rhythm. ‘Why are you bothering to tell me, then?’

‘Because I can’t keep it to myself any longer. I aborted your child and I think you ought to know, Matthew, that whatever it was between the two of us it was never just a teenage fling. It was much, much more for me. I’ve kept it secret from Marcus even though I sweated cobs when I did become pregnant in case there should be a problem, but there wasn’t. Nicholas, as you no doubt saw at the station, is a healthy little boy and so is Victoria.’

‘I’m sorry.’ It seemed inadequate but he was sorry, thinking about her, about how desperate she must have been, about how she risked her life because of that desperation, and in the end it was all down to him. ‘You should have told me,’ he muttered as the shock dissipated. Around them, the sounds of the busy restaurant, the clatter of dishes, the scraping back of chairs, the chatter, grew less as the enormity of what she was telling him hit home.

‘Why? What would you have done, Matthew?’

‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘I honestly don’t know. I expect I would have done the decent thing.’

She laughed. ‘Oh, really. Are you telling me you would have given up your place at university for me?’

‘We could have got round it,’ he said, not sure how, though. ‘I would have stood by you. I wouldn’t have let you face it on your own.’

‘You should see your face, Matthew Walker. And thank you, because I now know what I needed to know. You never loved me. Never. I would have gone to the ends of the earth for you but I doubt you would have gone further than Exeter for me.’

He sighed. What now? He couldn’t make head or tail of this. What was she saying now? Why was she suddenly smiling?

‘There was never a baby. Do you honestly think I was that naïve? I had all that business sorted out even at sixteen. But I just wanted to test you, to see your reaction.’

He remembered now that she was always good at lying. After making love, she would go down to the kitchen and brazen it out with his mother when he was having kittens thinking about it, hoping against hope that they had been quiet enough, that nobody had heard them. ‘I’ve had enough of this.’ He scrunched up the paper wrapping and left it on the tray, drained the last of his coffee. ‘I’m off.’

‘Goodbye.’ She looked as if she was staying. ‘Don’t bother to wait for me. I’m going to have another coffee.’

He reached for his overcoat that was draped around the chair. ‘How do I know what to believe any more? Are you really married to a pilot or is that a lie too? Do you have a house worth in excess of a million? Are those children yours?’

‘Of course the children are mine, don’t be ridiculous.’

‘And the rest?’ He held her gaze.

‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’

‘And is your mother really dying, Chrissie? Or is that another little lie?’

‘No, that happens to be true. But when it’s over I am going and I am never coming back. Good luck, Matthew, but just remember one thing.’

He leaned down a little as she looked up at him and this time he saw the pain in her eyes, helpless because there was nothing he could do to help, but he had to harden his heart to it because he had no other choice.

‘I love you. Goodbye Matthew.’ She mouthed the words, a blush staining her pale cheeks, and he just nodded, managing a tight smile before walking away. His mind was in a whirl. He had no idea how much of all that was true, whether the talk of a baby was really just a mischievous test or not. The fact was, if it was just a test for him, a very bitter sort of test, when she had talked about a pregnancy, about an abortion, she had just delivered an Oscar-winning performance.