Is this what youre looking for? she held out the letter to him.
Nick paled.
Claire, you… you mustnt think… You see, Dave… Its just
What is it you dont want me to think, Nick? That my husbands mother is alive and in prison? That you both take me for some naïve wallflower?!
What do you mean a month? Claire, we agreed you’d stay until autumn at the very least!
My youngests only just started nursery, and I found a job nearby…
Whats happened?
We always pay the rent on time, never make a sound…
Its not you Claire hesitated. I need to move back to my own flat.
Why? Have you and your husband fallen out?
Please dont ask any more questions.
One month from today, no more.
Ill recalculate, refund the deposit.
Sorry…
Claire ended the call and shivered. Oh, how she longed to be done with all this
***
Claire couldnt tear her eyes from the envelope lying on the kitchen table.
A plain envelope, which shed fished out of the letterbox barely five minutes ago, along with supermarket flyers and the internet bill.
Dave normally brought the post in himself, but today, for some reason, shed reached in.
A stamped mark. The return address: HM Prison Leicester.
And the sender’s name Lillian Crawford.
Claire had heard the name a handful of times from her husband Daves mother, in fact, a woman Claire had never once met.
Shed never imagined the woman whod given birth to her husband was even alive.
I have no one, Claire, Dave had said on their third date, as theyd sat in a cheap café trying to thaw out after a walk in the drizzle. My dad left before I was born, Ive never seen him.
As for my mother she left us when I was twenty. Heart trouble. Im a bit of a rolling stone, really. Belong nowhere.
Entirely alone? Claire had felt an ache of pity. No aunts, uncles?
A smattering of distant relatives in Yorkshire, but we dont keep in touch.
Frankly, its easier this way. No family dramas, no obligatory Sunday roasts at the in-laws. Just you and me.
She remembered thinking:
Hes so strong. Hes endured all that and never became bitter
So she wrapped him in care, as if trying to make up for all the love his mother hadnt given.
Then came their wedding, a modest affair for close friends and family.
On her side her parents, a couple of friends. On his only his childhood mate, Nick, who was suspiciously quiet and avoided looking at Claire all night.
Shed put that down to shyness. Now she saw: Nick had been terrified of letting something slip.
Where is she buried? Claire once asked, half a year after the wedding. Maybe we could visit tidy up a bit? Shes still your mum
Dave had given a strange twitch. Turned away, fiddled with his shirt collar.
Its far, Claire. Out in the countryside. Old, almost derelict cemetery.
Ill visit sometime, dont worry yourself. I dont want to bring you, the place has a heavy atmosphere.
Lets focus on the living, shall we?
And shed believed him. Fool!
***
The front door opened and Claire stiffened, hastily shoving the envelope into a drawer, covering it with Tesco vouchers.
Hello, love! Daves voice rang with its usual warmth. Hows our little lad? Been causing mischief?
He strode into the kitchen and went to kiss the top of Claires head, but she shrank away.
Are you alright? Tired? He frowned, peering into her face. Was Harry up all last night again?
Ill go change, take over from you. You have a lie-down.
Ill even sort out dinner myself.
No need, Im not hungry. Dave, the post came today…
He froze for a fleeting moment, but Claire saw it.
Oh? What was there? Bills again?
Bills. Advertising. Thats all.
Relief softened his features.
Good! Ill wash my hands and go give the boy a cuddle. Missed him to bits.
Claire watched his retreating back. The man with whom shed shared a home, time a whole life was standing there, telling barefaced lies.
Shameless lies that made her feel queasy.
Im an orphan at heart, hed said to her.
But Lillian Crawford was writing from Her Majestys Prison.
What was she in for? Killed someone? Thieving? Fraud? And how long before shes out?
Claire sharply envisioned, a year or two down the line, the doorbell ringing and a woman with hard eyes and a brutal history standing on the threshold:
Hullo, son, hullo, daughter-in-law. Wheres my grandson then? Ill be living with you now!
Claire wasnt worried for herself but she was terrified for Harry.
How would he grow up, shadowed by a grandmother with a record?
How could you possibly let a convict near your child?
Claire, would you like some tea? Dave called from the other room. Theres an offer on nappies at Sainsburys, found the leaflet in the drawer. We should pop in tomorrow.
She ignored him. She was already logging in to her banking app, checking her private savings.
Enough to get by for a while. A flat across the city that was a blessing.
Their tenants would move out in a month. If only she could endure until then, without giving herself away.
***
Dave left for work, after lavishing Harry with kisses and promising to come home early.
Claire watched them, a nauseated ache growing inside her. How could he have lied so smoothly, so long? How are such things even kept secret?
Once hed gone, she took out the letter. Her fingers itched to open it, to read, but fear held her back.
What if, once she read it, escaping became impossible? What if it contained something…
No, she said to herself, firm. It doesnt matter whats inside. He lied to me for two years!
The doorbell rang. Claire jumped. Who could it be?
Her parents always rang first. Friends? She checked the peep-hole: Nick was on the landing.
He shifted restlessly, kept glancing at the lift.
Claire opened the door.
Nick? Daves at work.
I know, Claire Nick hesitated, stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets Just passing by. Thought Dave might have left the garage keys?
He said theyd be on the sideboard.
Keys? Her brow quirked sceptically. There are no keys on the sideboard. Sure he left them here?
Thats what he said Listen, Claire, Dave also asked if Id check the letterbox. I looked nothing. Did you get the post in today?
Yes. Why?
Nick swallowed.
Were expecting a parcel car parts. Dave asked if Id check for an arrival notice.
Claire sauntered to the kitchen, picked up the grey envelope, and returned to the hallway.
Is this what youre after? she handed him the letter.
Nick turned chalk-white.
Claire, you you mustnt think Dave Its
What is it you want me NOT to think, Nick? That my husbands mother is both alive and in prison? That Im just some gullible daisy to you both?
That I bore a child with a man whose family history is a sealed vault?
Claire, he just wanted a fresh start! Nick began to babble, whispering urgently. He wanted things normal, none of that other lot.
His mum shes complicated. Daves suffered from her more than youll ever know.
He only kept quiet to spare you. Didnt mean any harm.
Kept quiet? Claires laughter was bitter. Nick, how does one cross out their own mother? This is so deceitful.
He robbed me of choice! I had a right to know the family I was joining.
What family! Nick shrugged helplessly. Theres no family. Just her and her shady business.
Claire, hand me the letter, will you? Did you read it? Ill give it to Dave, hell explain everything.
Leave, Nick, Claire said softly. And Im not giving you the letter. Its for David Crawford. Hell get it, from me.
With that, she slammed the door in Nicks stunned face.
***
The day drifted by, surreal and slow, as though she were underwater. Claire fed her son, changed him, walked with him in the garden, but her mind circled the situation endlessly.
What to pack first? The pushchair, the cot, her papers. Furniture forget it.
Her flat on the edge of town still had an old sofa-bed and a wardrobe. Enough.
By six in the evening, she felt curiously calm.
She laid the table, cooked supper, put Harry to bed. And waited for Daves return.
Mmm, smells good! Dave, home from work, acted as if nothing was amiss. Look what I got. New mobile for Harry! Calming tunes, apparently.
Claire sat silently at the table, the cursed grey envelope before her. Dave glanced in and immediately dropped the act.
Did Nick find it? he asked quietly.
I found it. Nick came said youd sent him to fetch it. I didnt give it to him
Her husband slumped heavily into the chair opposite.
Why, Dave? Why did you tell me she was dead?
Because, to me, she has been for twelve years, his eyes glistened with tears. Since she first went away. Then came out for half a year, only to go back again.
Claire, youve got normal folk for family an engineer dad, a teacher mum. You wouldnt understand. My mothers a career fraudster, Claire. A crook.
So you decided you had the right to lie? A year or two? Claires voice cracked as she shouted. Do you know you utterly shattered my trust in you?
I was scared of losing you! Dave shot back. Youd have left! Youd have thought: Oh no, his mums a jailbird, what else might run in the family?
I wanted Harry to grow up secure. And yes I reckoned a husband with a tragic past was better than a husband born to a thief.
Now hell have a father living elsewhere, Claire replied, icy-cold.
Dave froze.
What? Youre leaving? Claire, for a letter? For this secret?
For the fact I dont know you, Dave. If you could lie about something so immense, what else have you lied about?
Who is your father did he really just vanish, or is he locked up somewhere too?
Claire, dont be absurd
Its not absurd. Ive notified our tenants. I move in a month. Im filing for divorce tomorrow.
Dave pleaded. He knelt, begged for forgiveness, swore it was all for her own good.
But Claire tuned out his excuses. Her mind was made up.
***
The tenants left; Claire and her son now lived alone. The couple divorced, though Dave still hoped for reconciliation. He couldnt see what hed done wrong he saw himself as protecting the family
He visited his son as often as allowed, provided for him fully. But winning back Claires heart? That remained impossibly out of reach. Claire wouldnt hear of coming back.
