The Husband's Secret(135)

            Tess rolled her eyes. “I did not.”

            How could she explain to Felicity that her anxiety was like a strange, mercurial little pet she was forced to look after? Sometimes it was quiet and pliable; other days it was crazy, running around in circles, yapping in her ear. Besides, dating was different. Dating had its own definite set of rules. She could do dating. A first date with a new man had never been a problem. (As long as he asked her out, of course. She never did the asking.) It was when the man asked her to meet his family and friends that her anxiety reared its freaky little head.

            “And by the way, if you really had this ‘social anxiety,’ why did you never tell me?” said Felicity with total confidence that she knew everything there was to know about Tess, even if the reverse was not true.

            “I never had a name for it before,” said Tess. “I never had words to describe this feeling until a few months ago.” And because you were part of my cover identity, she thought. Because you and I pretended together that we didn’t care what other people thought of us, that we were superior to just about the whole world. If I’d admitted to you how I felt, I would have had to admit that not only did I care what other people thought, I cared far too much.

            “You know what? I walked into an aerobics class when I was at least double the size of every person in the room.” Felicity leaned forward and looked at her fiercely. “People couldn’t look at me. I saw one girl nudging her friend to check me out, and then they both fell about laughing. I heard a guy say, ‘Watch out for the heifer.’ Don’t you talk to me about social anxiety, Tess O’Leary.”

            There was a banging on the door.

            “Mum! Felicity!” shouted Liam. “Why have you locked the door? Let me in!”

            “Go away, Liam!” called back Tess.

            “No! Have you made up yet?”

            Tess and Felicity looked at each other. Felicity smiled faintly, and Tess looked away.

            Lucy’s voice came from the other end of the house. “Liam, come back here! I said to leave your mother alone!” She was at a disadvantage on her crutches.

            Felicity stood. “I have to go. My flight is at two o’clock. Mum is taking me to the airport. She’s in a state. Dad isn’t speaking to me, apparently.”

            “You’re seriously leaving today?” Tess looked up at her from the floor. She thought briefly of the business: the clients she’d worked so hard to win over, the cash flow they’d tried so hard to maintain, fussing and fretting over the profit and loss like a delicate little plant, the “work in progress” spreadsheet they’d studied each morning. Was this the end for TWF Advertising? All those dreams. All that stationery.

            “Yes,” said Felicity. “It’s what I should have done years ago.”

            Tess stood as well. “I don’t forgive you.”

            “I know,” said Felicity. “I don’t forgive me either.”

            “Mum!” yelled Liam.

            “Hold your horses, Liam!” called out Felicity. She grabbed Tess’s arm and said in her ear. “Don’t tell Will about Connor.”

            For one fleeting, strange moment they hugged, and then Felicity turned and opened the door.





FIFTY


            There’s no butter,” announced Isabel. “No margarine either.”

            She turned from the fridge and looked at her mother expectantly.

            “Are you sure?” asked Cecilia. How could that have happened? She never forgot a staple. Her system was foolproof. Her refrigerator and pantry were always perfectly stocked. Sometimes John-Paul rang on his way home and asked if she needed him to “pick up milk or anything,” and she’d always reply, “Uh, no?”