I really am sorry that I went behind your back. I know how angry it’s made you, and I do understand why. But you must believe me when I say that I was doing it with the best of intentions. I’m not trying to sabotage your marriage. I’m just trying to make sure you’re okay. I love you. Please call me. Xxx
Livvy exited WhatsApp, tossed her phone on the bed. There had been a constant stream of messages from Bea since their row yesterday afternoon, each one a variation on the same theme: Bea was sorry, she hadn’t meant to overstep the mark, please could Livvy forgive her. But Livvy couldn’t forgive. It was as though Bea had marched into the middle of Livvy’s marriage, grenade in hand, removed the pin and been disappointed to discover that it hadn’t detonated.
She hadn’t told Dominic the real reason for her falling out with Bea. She’d said Bea hadn’t been supportive of her haircut, that she was upset Livvy had cancelled their plans a few times lately. But she’d said nothing to him about Daisy, or about Bea’s egregious invasion into Dominic’s privacy. And yet still Dominic had leapt to Livvy’s defence: ‘I know she’s your sister, and I love your loyalty to her, but she’s never really going to understand your life. She’s never going to understand what it’s like to have a partner and a child. If Bea really loves you – if she really cares about your happiness – she’ll let you manage your life however you choose, even if that means she gets to see you less.’ Aware of all the messages arriving from Bea yesterday evening, Dominic had suggested Livvy ignore them for now, take a step back, let the dust settle. Reconvene with Bea when they’d both had time to calm down.
Picking up a stack of shoeboxes from the bottom of the wardrobe, Livvy carried them to the bed, let them slide from her arms onto the duvet. Lifting the lid of one, she found a neat pile of letters, familiar meticulous writing on the envelopes. Choosing one from near the bottom of the pile, she prised out the single piece of thick, cream A5 paper.
Darling Livvy
You may think me old-fashioned writing to you when an email or text would be quicker. But I wanted to tell you that the last three weeks have been incredible. I’ve loved every moment we’ve spent together: you’re beautiful and funny and kind and I have, quite simply, never met anyone like you.
Perhaps it’s too early to tell you this, but I’m going to say it anyway.
I love you.
I can’t wait to see you tonight.
Dominic xx
Rifling through the rest of the letters, she remembered how, in the early months of their relationship, they’d written to each other daily, even when spending every evening together. Their correspondence had stopped when Livvy first moved in, but since Dominic had been away in Sheffield, she’d been writing him a letter every week and slipping it into his suitcase before he left on Monday mornings. Just short notes, telling him how much she loved him and how much she would miss him, but somehow they made her feel more connected to him in his absence.
Within a fortnight Dominic had told her he loved her . . . He always made her feel like the most important person in the room . . . Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?
Bea’s story about Daisy hissed in Livvy’s ears, and she tried to silence it, reassured herself that it wasn’t the same. Daisy clearly hadn’t been ready for a relationship, and Dominic couldn’t be held accountable for another woman’s immaturity. If Dominic had chosen not to tell Livvy about it, he must have his reasons. And starting one relationship soon after finishing another wasn’t exactly a crime.
Her phone pinged again, and Livvy was aware of something twisting in her stomach as she braced herself for another missive from Bea. But when she picked up her phone and saw the identity of the messenger, a cold sheen of dread skimmed over her skin.
Glancing over her shoulder through the open bedroom door, she strained her ears, heard Dominic whistling to a piece of music. Turning back to her phone, she opened the message.
I wondered if you’d had a chance to talk to Dominic yet about us meeting up? I honestly don’t want to cause any trouble. I just want to see you and Leo, and ideally Dominic too, if he’s ready. I’d be so grateful if you might meet up with me.
It was Imogen’s first communication in more than three weeks. Livvy had dared to imagine that perhaps she’d given up. She reread the message, wondering what to do for the best.
‘God, it looks like a bomb site in here.’
Livvy whipped her head around, found Dominic standing in the doorway, casting a critical eye over the room. Heart drumming in her chest, she gripped her phone, finger groping for the activation button to turn the screen dark.
‘Have you only managed to fill three bags?’ He gestured out to the hallway, where a trio of bin liners were heaped together like children huddled close on a cold winter’s day. ‘There must be more to get rid of than that?’
Livvy stared at Dominic, tried to muster some words for a reply, found that none would come to her aid.
‘Are you okay?’
The truth skittered through Livvy’s mind in search of a secure hiding place. ‘I’m fine. Just lots to do.’
Dominic studied her face, took hold of her hand, led her to the edge of the bed. As he sat down beside her, Livvy willed her phone not to ping with another message from Imogen.
‘What’s wrong? Come on, you know I can always tell when something’s up.’
It was true. Sometimes Livvy thought Dominic had a direct line into her mind, could read her thoughts and feelings the way other people read the pages of a book.
For a moment she contemplated telling him the truth: Imogen’s text, the phone call at home, the second doorstep visit. The bequest of John’s watch, the request for access to Leo. But then she looked at Dominic, thought about all he’d had to contend with in recent weeks, and knew she couldn’t do it to him. Once they were in London, where Imogen could no longer turn up unannounced, she would tell him then. She needed time to think about how best to broach it, how to explain why she had concealed Imogen’s communications from him. Now was not the time. ‘The row with Bea. I haven’t been entirely honest with you. We didn’t just argue about my hair.’ The words tumbled out before she had a chance to assess whether this story really was the lesser of two evils.
Dominic’s eyes tapered at the edges. ‘Okay. So what did you row about?’ He placed his hand on top of hers, beneath which lay the mobile phone containing a message Livvy desperately didn’t want him to see.
Panic flitted in Livvy’s chest. ‘She found one of your ex-girlfriends online and made contact with her. She actually went to meet her. It’s crazy, I know. I’m so sorry. It’s such a huge invasion of your privacy. That’s why we fell out.’ The explanation spilled from her lips.
‘What ex-girlfriend?’
‘Some woman called Daisy. I’m sorry. I honestly don’t know what possessed her. I’m furious with her. She keeps apologising – she knows it was completely out of order.’
Dominic fell still, silent, and Livvy was aware of the air thickening around them.
‘What did Bea tell you?’ His voice was low, masquerading calm, but the words were braided with hostility.