The Mistress - Jill Childs Page 0,40

least once, I tilted up my head to meet his gaze at a particularly moving programme and saw, with horror, that his eyes were closed, his mouth gaping. I had to shuffle against him, pretending I was moving to get comfortable, to nudge him awake again. It worried me, afterwards. There was feeling relaxed with someone and there was downright boredom. I was on thin ice. If his time with me stopped being special, why would he bother?

That evening, when we kissed a tired goodbye at the front door, I risked something I’d been building up to for a while.

‘Let’s go to the theatre next week.’

He blinked, taken aback. ‘The theatre?’

I forced a smile. ‘I’ll surprise you. You tell me which day. I’ll organise the tickets.’

He looked ambushed. ‘Next week? Well…’

I kissed the tip of his chin. ‘Come on, don’t be boring. We can’t stay in all the time.’

‘It’s just…’ He looked embarrassed, his eyes darting away from mine.

‘Just what?’ My disappointment made me sound cross. He used to love the theatre. I knew he did. He talked about it, about the fact that he’d gone all the time before he was married. It was one of those things he’d given up since Anna came along, out of fatherly duty.

He took hold of my hands and lifted them gently off his shoulders. ‘It’s complicated. I’m sorry. I just can’t, not right now.’

‘Why not?’ I’d already looked into it. I’d chosen a play; a new one I was sure he’d love. It could be a pre-Valentine’s Day treat, I’d decided, because, of course, he’d spend the real Valentine’s Day with his wife.

He didn’t even seem sorry. ‘Look, we’ll talk about it another time.’

He twisted and reached his hand to the latch to open the door. I leaned against it, getting cross.

‘Don’t do that.’

‘What?’

‘Just walk out like that. Just brush me off as if my feelings don’t even matter and go rushing back to—’ I could bring myself to say it. I didn’t need to. We both knew.

He looked impatient. ‘Not now, all right? I’m tired. Another time.’

‘Another time?’ Something flared inside me, some part of the growing fear that I was starting to lose him and I didn’t know how to stop that happening. I snapped, ‘Tell me now. Right now, before you go anywhere. Why can’t we go and see a play?’

His jaw set hard. ‘You know why. Because someone might see us together. And anyway, money’s tight. I can’t afford it, okay? Can I leave now?’

He shoved me sideways and was thumping out and down the steps before I could answer.

I stood at the window and watched him stride away towards the labyrinth of nearby side roads where he usually parked. My hands shook. What had I done? I’d ruined things. I’d risked everything. Just because I couldn’t learn to be quiet and stay patient.

Soon enough, I was sitting on the edge of my bed, phone in hand, texting apologies.

I’m so sorry. Really. Of course I understand. xxx

Silence. I paced round the flat, tidying away the dinner dishes and washing up our wine glasses. I couldn’t believe how stupid I’d been. It was pride, that was all. Wanting to have too much of him for myself. Wanting to push for more, instead of appreciating what I had.

I shut the dishwasher and ran back to find my phone. No answer. He’d be driving now, heading home.

I texted again:

Text when ur home. So I know ur safe. Love u xxx

No reply.

I spent the night worrying. Why had I gone for him like that? What if he was angry, really angry? What if he was getting tired of me? I was stupid, stupid, stupid. I lay, staring at the ceiling, trying to read the shadows.

He had a lot of financial responsibility. I’d never thought about it before. But, of course, he was shouldering all the costs on his own. Helen didn’t work. Food, household bills, clothes, petrol, everything Anna needed. It must be a worry. How could I have been so selfish, so insensitive?

The next day, I struggled to concentrate in the classroom, to keep my good humour with a restless gang of year threes. During breaks, I hurried to check my phone for messages. Nothing. At lunchtime, I considered making a dash up the hill to the Upper School to see if I could catch a word alone with him or even just give him a reassuring smile. There was simply no time.

It wasn’t until the end of the Lower School