Stemming the tears that fell from my eyes with a tissue, I made an effort to understand. If he was with one of the other lawyers, I reasoned, locked in some delicate meeting, it was normal that he had turned his phone off after my first attempt to contact him so that he wouldn’t be further disturbed. He had probably intended to phone me back as soon as he had a chance, but the meeting must have gone on longer than expected. Maybe during a quick break he had listened to my messages and, angry at my tone of voice, had retaliated by sending me a sharp text message instead of phoning me. And maybe he had guessed that if he did speak to me, I’d be so overwrought that he wouldn’t have been able to get back to his meeting until he’d calmed me down.

  It all sounded so plausible that I regretted acting as hysterically as I had. Jack had been right to be angry with me. I had already seen how his work could impinge on our relationship—God knew how many times he had been too tired or too stressed for sex—and he had already apologised for it, and had begged me to understand that the very nature of his work meant that he couldn’t always be there, both mentally and physically, for me. I had been proud of the fact that we had never rowed but now, I had fallen at the first hurdle.

  I wanted nothing more but to see Jack, to tell him how sorry I was, to feel his arms around me, to hear him say that he forgave me. Reading his message again, I realised that when he said he’d see me in the morning, he probably meant the small hours. Feeling much calmer, and suddenly very tired, I got undressed and climbed into bed, relishing the thought of being woken before too long by Jack making love to me. I just had time to hope that Millie was still sleeping soundly before I fell into a deep sleep.

  It hadn’t occurred to me that Jack might be spending the night with another woman, but it was the first thought that entered my mind when I woke sometime after eight the next morning and realised that he hadn’t come back after all. Fighting down panic, I reached for my mobile, expecting to find a message from him, if only to say at what time he would be at the hotel. But there was nothing, and because there was the possibility that he’d decided to snatch a couple of hours’ sleep in the office rather than disturb me, I was reluctant to phone him in case I woke him up. But I was desperate to speak to him, so I called him anyway. When I got his voicemail, I took a deep breath and left a message in as normal a tone as I could muster, asking him to let me know what time I could expect him at the hotel and telling him that we needed to call by the hospital to see Millie on the way to the airport. Then I showered, dressed and sat down to wait.

  As I waited, I realised that I didn’t even know what time our flight was due to leave. I vaguely remembered Jack saying something about an afternoon flight so I guessed that we would have to be at the airport at least a couple of hours before. When I eventually received a text message from Jack, almost an hour later, I was again bewildered by its tone. There was no apology, no mention of anything except an order to meet him in the hotel car park at eleven. By the time I struggled into the lift with our two suitcases and my hand luggage, my stomach was churning with anxiety. As I handed the room key in at the reception, I was glad that the man I had spoken to the night before had been replaced by a young woman who, I hoped, knew nothing of my missing husband.

  A porter helped me take the luggage out to the car park. I told him that my husband had gone to fill the car with petrol and headed for a nearby bench, ignoring his suggestion that I’d be better off waiting in the warmth of the hotel. I hadn’t wanted to take a heavy coat with me to Thailand and because I’d expected to go from the hotel to the car to the airport, barely venturing out into the open, I was only wearing a jacket which was no match for the vicious wind that whipped across the car park. By the time Jack showed up twenty-five minutes later, I was blue with cold and on the verge of tears. Stopping the car only feet away from me, he got out and walked over to where I was sitting.

  ‘Get in,’ he said, picking up the cases and loading them into the boot.

  Too cold to argue, I stumbled into the car and huddled against the door, wanting only to feel warm again. I waited for him to speak, to say something—anything—which would go some way to explaining why I felt as if I was sitting next to someone I didn’t know. When the silence had gone on for too long, I summoned up the courage to look at him. The lack of emotion on his face shocked me. I had expected to see anger, stress or irritation. But there was nothing.

  ‘What’s going on, Jack?’ I asked unsteadily. It was as if I hadn’t spoken. ‘For God’s sake, Jack!’ I cried. ‘What the hell is going on?’

  ‘Please don’t swear,’ he said distastefully.

  I looked at him in amazement. ‘What do you expect? You disappear without a word, leaving me to spend our wedding night alone and then you turn up half an hour late to fetch me, leaving me waiting in the freezing cold! Surely I have a right to be angry!’

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘You don’t. You have no rights at all.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous! Is there someone else, Jack? Is that what all this is about? Are you in love with somebody else? Is that where you were last night?’

  ‘Now it’s you who’s being ridiculous. You’re my wife, Grace. Why would I need anybody else?’

  Defeated, I shook my head miserably. ‘I don’t understand. Is there some problem at work, something you can’t tell me about?’

  ‘I’ll explain everything when we’re in Thailand.’

  ‘Why can’t you tell me now? Please, Jack, tell me what’s wrong.’

  ‘In Thailand.’

  I wanted to tell him that I didn’t particularly feel like going to Thailand with him in the mood he was in, but I took comfort in the fact that, once there, I would at least have an explanation as to why our marriage had got off to such a bad start. Because his mood seemed to be related to some sort of problem at work, I couldn’t help feeling apprehensive that it might be something I’d be seeing a lot more of in the future. I was so busy working out how I would adjust to being married to a man I hadn’t known existed that it was a while before I realised we were heading straight out to the airport.

  ‘What about Millie?’ I cried. ‘We’re meant to be going to see her!’

  ‘I’m afraid it’s too late,’ he said. ‘We should have turned off miles back.’

  ‘But I told you in my message that we had to stop by the hospital!’

  ‘Well, as you didn’t mention anything about it when you got into the car, I thought you’d changed your mind. Besides, we don’t really have time.’

  ‘But our flight isn’t until this afternoon!’

  ‘It leaves at three, which means we have to check in at twelve.’

  ‘But I promised her! I told Millie I’d go and see her this morning!’

  ‘When? When did you tell her that? I don’t remember.’

  ‘When she was in the ambulance!’

  ‘She was unconscious, so she’ll hardly remember.’

  ‘That’s not the point! Anyway, I told Mum that we’d call in and she’ll have told Millie.’

  ‘If you had checked with me first I would have told you that it wouldn’t be possible.’

  ‘How could I check with you when you weren’t there! Jack, please turn back, we have plenty of time. The check-in may open at twelve but it won’t close until much later. I won’t stay long, I promise, I just want to see her.’

  ‘It’s out of the question, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Why are you being like this?’ I cried. ‘You know what Millie’s like, you know she won’t understand if I don’t turn up.’

  ‘Then phone her and explain. Phone her and tell her you got it wrong.’

  Frustrated, I burst into tears. ‘I didn’t get it wrong,’ I sobbed. ‘We have plenty of time, you know we do!’

  He had never seen me cry before and, although I felt ashamed at resorting to tears, I hoped he would realise how unreasonable he was being. So when he swung the car off the road, taking an exit to a service station at the last minute, I wiped my eyes and blew my nose, thi
nking he was going to turn back.

  ‘Thank you,’ I said as he brought the car to a standstill.

  Switching off the ignition, he turned towards me. ‘Listen to me, Grace, and listen carefully. If you want to go and see Millie, you can. You can get out of the car now and take a taxi to the hospital. But I’m going on to the airport and if you choose to go to the hospital, you won’t be coming to Thailand with me. It’s as simple as that.’

  I shook my head, making fresh tears cascade down my cheeks. ‘I don’t believe you,’ I wept. ‘You wouldn’t make me choose between you and Millie, not if you loved me.’

  ‘But that is exactly what I’m doing.’

  ‘How can I choose?’ I looked at him in anguish. ‘I love both of you!’

  He gave a sigh of irritation. ‘It saddens me that you’re making such a song and dance about it. Surely it should be simple. Are you really going to throw away our marriage simply because I refuse to turn back to see Millie when we’re already well on the way to the airport? Is that how little I mean to you?’

  ‘No, of course not,’ I gulped, swallowing down my tears.

  ‘And don’t you think I’ve been very generous in the past, never complaining about the amount of time we have to spend with Millie each weekend?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said miserably.

  He nodded, satisfied. ‘So what’s it to be, Grace? The airport or the hospital? Your husband or your sister?’ He paused a moment. ‘Me, or Millie?’

  ‘You, Jack,’ I said quietly. ‘You, of course.’

  ‘Good. Now, where’s your passport?’

  ‘In my bag,’ I mumbled.

  ‘Can I have it?’

  I picked up my bag, took out my passport and handed it to him.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said, slipping it into the inside pocket of his jacket. Without another word, he put the car into gear, drove out of the service station and back onto the motorway.

  Despite what had happened, I couldn’t really believe that he wouldn’t take me to see Millie and I wondered if what had just happened had been some kind of test, and that because I had chosen him over her, he was now going to take me to the hospital. When I saw that we were once again heading for the airport, I felt desperate, not just because of Millie but also because, in the six months since I had met Jack, I had never even glimpsed this side of his character. I had never guessed that he could be anything but the kindest, most reasonable man in the universe. All my instincts told me to ask him to stop the car and let me out, but I was scared of what would happen if I did. In the mood he was in, there was no way of knowing if he would do as he had threatened and go on to Thailand without me. And, if he did, where would that leave me, us, our marriage? By the time we got to the airport I felt sick with stress.

  As we stood in the queue waiting to check in, Jack suggested that I phone Mum to tell her that we’d been unable to call in at the hospital, telling me that the sooner I did, the better it would be for all concerned. Still bewildered by his attitude, I did as he asked and when my call went straight through to Mum’s voicemail I didn’t know whether to be upset or relieved. On balance, I decided it was probably just as well that I couldn’t speak to Millie, and left a message explaining that because I had made a mistake with the time of our flight, I wouldn’t be able to call in after all. I asked Mum to give Millie a kiss from me and to tell her that I would call once we got to Thailand. As I hung up, Jack smiled and took my hand in his, and, for the first time ever, I wanted to snatch it away again.

  When it was time for us to approach the desk, Jack was so utterly charming to the hostess, explaining we were newly-weds and that we had had a disastrous wedding day because our bridesmaid, who had Down’s syndrome, had fallen down the stairs and broken her leg, that we were upgraded to first class. But it didn’t make me feel any better—if anything, the fact that he had used Millie’s condition to gain sympathy disgusted me. The old Jack would never have done such a thing and the thought of spending the next two weeks with someone who had become a virtual stranger was terrifying. Yet the alternative—telling Jack I didn’t want to go to Thailand with him—was equally so. As we went through passport control, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was making the biggest mistake of my life.

  I felt even more confused in the departure lounge when Jack sat and read the paper with his arm draped around my shoulders as if he didn’t have a care in the world. I refused champagne when it was offered to us, hoping Jack would understand that I wasn’t in the mood for a celebration. But he accepted a glass readily, seemingly unaffected by the chasm that now existed between us. I tried to tell myself that what had happened between us was nothing more than a lovers’ tiff, a momentary blip on the path to a long and happy marriage, but I knew it was more serious than that. Desperate to understand where we had gone wrong, I went over everything that had happened since I’d stepped out of the bathroom less than twenty-four hours earlier, and when I remembered the panicked messages I’d left on his phone, I began to wonder if I was the one in the wrong. But I knew I wasn’t, I knew it was Jack’s fault, it was just that I was so tired I couldn’t work out why. Suddenly, I couldn’t wait to be on the plane, hoping that after being pampered for fourteen hours I would arrive in Thailand in a better frame of mind.

  Because I had also refused to eat anything in the departure lounge, I was desperately hungry by the time we boarded, as I’d been too upset to eat breakfast. Jack was solicitous as we settled into our seats, making sure I had everything I needed, and my mood began to lift slightly. As I began to relax, I could feel my eyes closing.

  ‘Tired?’ Jack asked.

  ‘Yes.’ I nodded. ‘And very hungry. If I fall asleep could you wake me for dinner?’

  ‘Of course.’

  I was gone before the plane had even taken off. When I eventually opened my eyes again, the cabin was in darkness and everyone seemed to be sleeping. Only Jack was awake, reading the newspaper.

  I looked at him in dismay. ‘I thought I asked you to wake me for dinner?’

  ‘I thought it better not to disturb you. But don’t worry, they’ll be serving breakfast in a couple of hours.’

  ‘I can’t wait a couple of hours; I haven’t eaten since yesterday!’

  ‘Then ask one of hostesses to bring you something.’

  I stared at him over the divide between us. In our other life, before we’d got married, he would have rung for the hostess himself. Where had the perfect gentleman I’d thought him to be gone? Had it all been a facade, had he covered his true self with a cloak of geniality and good humour to impress me? Aware of my eyes on him, he put down his paper.

  ‘Who are you, Jack?’ I asked quietly.

  ‘Your husband,’ he said. ‘I am your husband.’ Taking my hand in his, he raised it to his lips and kissed it. ‘For better or for worse. In sickness and in health. Till death do us part.’ Letting go of my hand, he pushed the button, summoning the hostess. She came immediately.

  ‘Could you bring my wife something to eat, please? She missed dinner, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Certainly, sir,’ she smiled.

  ‘There,’ said Jack, once she’d left. ‘Happy?’ He turned back towards his newspaper and I was glad he couldn’t see the tears of pathetic gratitude that had pricked my eyes. When my food was brought, I ate it quickly and, not particularly wanting to talk to Jack, I slept until we began our descent into Bangkok.

  Jack had insisted on making all the arrangements for our honeymoon because he wanted it to be a surprise for me. He had already been to Thailand several times and knew the best places to stay, so, even though I had hinted heavily about Koh Samui, I had little idea of where we were actually going. I couldn’t help feeling disappointed when, rather than head for domestic departures, Jack led me towards the taxi rank. Soon, we were on our way into the centre of Bangkok and I couldn’t help feeling excited by the hustle and bustle of the city, although a little appalled at the noise. When the taxi slowed down in front of a hotel called The Golden
Temple, my spirits lifted even more as it was one of the most beautiful hotels I had ever seen. But, instead of coming to a stop, the taxi continued on its way until we arrived in front of a good but less luxurious hotel three hundred metres further down the road. The lobby was better than its facade, but when we arrived in our room and found the bathroom to be so small that Jack would have trouble using the shower, I fully expected him to turn around and leave at once.

  ‘Perfect,’ he said, taking off his jacket and hanging it in the wardrobe. ‘This will do nicely.’

  ‘Jack, you can’t be serious.’ I looked around the room. ‘Surely we can do better than this?’

  ‘It’s time to wake up, Grace.’

  He looked so solemn I wondered why it hadn’t occurred to me that he might have lost his job, and the more I thought about it the more I realised that I had found the perfect explanation for his sudden change of character. If he had been told sometime on Friday evening, I reasoned, my mind darting back and forth as I tried to work it out, he had probably gone back to the office on Saturday, while I was having my bath, to try to sort things out with the other partners before we left on honeymoon. Of course he wouldn’t have wanted to tell me during our wedding, of course my visit to Millie must have seemed paltry compared to what he was going through! No wonder he had wanted to wait until we were in Thailand to tell me what had happened and, as he had obviously changed our hotel reservation for something cheaper, I prepared myself to hear that he hadn’t managed to negotiate his job back.