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The Husband's Secret(90)

By:Liane Moriarty


            The doorbell rang and Cecilia gasped. The police! she thought.

            But there was no reason for the police to turn up now, after all these years, just because Cecilia knew. I hate you for this, John-Paul Fitzpatrick, she thought as she got to her feet. Her neck ached. She took the bottle of sesame oil and tossed it into the rubbish bin on her way to the front door. It wasn’t the police. It was John-Paul’s mother. Cecilia blinked, disoriented.

            “Were you in the bathroom?” said Virginia. “I was just thinking I might have to sit down on the step. My legs were getting all wobbly.”

            Virginia’s specialty was making you feel just a little bad about anything she could. She had five sons and five daughters-in-law, and Cecilia was the only daughter-in-law who hadn’t at one time been reduced to tears of rage and frustration by Virginia. It was due to Cecilia’s unshakable confidence in her abilities as a wife, mother and housewife. Bring it on, Virginia, she sometimes thought to herself as Virginia’s gaze swept over everything from John-Paul’s crease-free shirts to Cecilia’s dust-free skirting boards.

            Virginia “dropped by” at Cecilia’s every Wednesday after her tai chi class for a cup of tea and something freshly baked. “How do you stand it?” Cecilia’s sisters-in-law moaned, but Cecilia didn’t really mind all that much. It was like taking part in a weekly battle with an unspecified goal that Cecilia felt she generally won.

            But not today. She didn’t have the strength for it today.

            “What’s that smell?” said Virginia as she presented her cheek to be kissed. “Is it sesame oil?”

            “Yes.” Cecilia sniffed her hands. “Come and sit down. I’ll put the kettle on.”

            “I’m really not fond of the smell of sesame,” said Virginia. “It’s very Asian, isn’t it?” She settled herself down at the table and looked about the kitchen for grime or errors of judgment. “How was John-Paul last night? He called this morning. That was nice that he rushed back earlier than expected. The girls must be happy. They’re all such daddy’s girls, your three, aren’t they? But I couldn’t believe it when I heard he had to go straight back into the office this morning after flying back only last night! He must have terrible jet lag. The poor man.”

            John-Paul had wanted to stay home today. “I don’t want to leave you alone to deal with this,” he had said. “I won’t go into the office at all. We can talk. We can keep talking.”

            Cecilia could think of nothing worse than more talking. She’d insisted that he go in to work, virtually pushing him out the door. She needed to be away from him. She needed to think. He’d been calling all morning, leaving frantic-sounding messages. Was he worried she was going to turn him in?

            “John-Paul has a good work ethic,” she told her mother-in-law as she made tea. Imagine if you knew what your precious son did. Just imagine.

            She felt Virginia’s eyes shrewdly assessing her. She was no fool, Virginia. That was the mistake Cecilia’s sisters-in-law made. They underestimated the enemy.

            “You don’t look very well,” said Virginia. “You’re washed out. Probably exhausted, are you? You take on far too much. I hear you did a party last night. I was chatting to Marla Evans at tai chi and she said it was a great success. Everyone got tipsy, apparently. She mentioned that you drove Rachel Crowley home.”

            “Rachel is very nice,” said Cecilia. She put Virginia’s tea in front of her, along with a selection of baked treats. (Virginia’s weakness. It helped give Cecilia the edge.) Could she talk about her without feeling nauseated? “I actually asked her to Polly’s pirate party next weekend.”

            Which is just wonderful.

            “Did you?” said Virginia. There was a pause. “Does John-Paul know that?”