Saving Grace

by Jane Green

  Grace’s mouth drops open in disbelief. ‘You won’t listen, will you? Your ego is so damned huge, you aren’t able to hear any of this. After all these years of loyalty, everything I’ve done, this is how you repay me? You’re hurting me more than anyone has ever hurt me before, and you don’t care. Who are you? I don’t even think I know you anymore.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Ted says quietly, turning and walking out the door.

  When Clemmie walks back in, Grace is shaking, fighting back the tears.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ murmurs Grace, over and over. ‘I didn’t expect this to happen. I didn’t expect to be so upset.’ She breaks down, catching her breath as an unexpected sob makes its way into the room.

  ‘It’s okay,’ says Clemmie, putting her arm around her mother and gently rubbing her back. ‘It’s all going to be okay.’

  ‘It isn’t going to be okay,’ says Grace when the sobs have subsided and Clemmie has brought her sweet, milky tea. ‘There’s so much more to Beth than meets the eye, so much that your father is refusing to see. I’m quite sure she’s blowing through all the money. This is what she does. We’re not the first. I have just met with a woman in Connecticut called Emily Tallman who lost everything she had to Beth. She stole her husband, her children, her reputation, and drained them of every penny. And when she left, she reinvented herself as Beth McCarthy, and here she is. Doing it again.’

  Clemmie just stares at her mother.

  ‘I think she planned this,’ Grace says. ‘I have no proof, but the more I think about it, how she came into our lives, how she happened to be at your table at the gala, the more I think she targeted us somehow. She’s a clever, clever girl, and ruthless, I think.’

  ‘You can’t be serious,’ says Clemmie. ‘She planned this? She targeted us? I don’t see how that’s possible, Mum.’

  Grace nods. ‘Remember where we met her? The Country Flair gala? Country Flair had been promoting that event for months. She knew Ted was the guest of honour and she got herself a ticket. I remember at the time thinking how odd that she was there alone.’

  ‘But how did she know you were looking for an assistant?’ Clemmie is still sceptical.

  ‘I think that was just a lucky break for her. Had we not been, I imagine she would have asked for a job as an intern. She would have offered anything to get to us. I think she started off thinking she could reach us through you, Clem, but then she didn’t have to. It was the perfect opportunity.’

  ‘Do you really think this is true? If you’re right, what could be in it for her? Why would she do this?’

  ‘I think she’s a mixture of things. I’m not a doctor, and God knows, given what I’ve been through, I’m the last person to go around labelling people with mental disorders, but I think she’s probably something of a sociopath. She does this because she can; maybe she gets a thrill, maybe she’s jealous of people who have a life she perceives as somehow better, but she doesn’t show remorse. Or empathy. She deliberately sets out to break up marriages to get what she wants, or at least that’s how it seems, without ever worrying about the consequences.’

  ‘And why do you think she wants that?’

  Grace shakes her head. ‘I don’t know. Narcissism, insecurity, jealousy. I would think some combination of the three. She talked a couple of times about her dysfunctional upbringing. I can’t believe that it’s as cruel as wanting to break up lives that seem happier than hers, but perhaps there’s something in that.’

  ‘So, what are you going to do?’ Clemmie says. ‘What are we going to do?’

  ‘I think she may be hoist by her own petard,’ Grace says slowly. ‘She wants money and power. If your father’s book is as bad as the reviews are saying, things will be a disaster. I can’t believe she’ll stay. She doesn’t love him. She loves the cachet of being his consort. And that won’t last if there’s no cachet.’

  ‘And when it’s over?’ Clemmie says tentatively. ‘Then you’d go back?’

  ‘I would.’ The tears spring back. ‘I can’t believe I’m saying it, but I would.’

  Forty

  The longer she is back home, the less she thinks about Dorset, about Patrick. It is painful to think about him, stirs up feelings she is certain would be best laid to rest.

  She misses him. Misses his easy humour, how he made her laugh, how she was able to truly be herself, secure in the knowledge that that was enough; that it had always been enough.

  But here she is, back in America, so close to the man who is still her husband, with a part of her longing to get her life back. Grace has spent years with Ted. Her life is with him, and even though he is now with Beth, it’s impossible to think of a future on her own. At least, a future on this side of the Atlantic.

  Grace and Ted. Ted and Grace. If he were to ask, if he were to change his mind, want her to come home, how could she possibly say no?

  And yet today, Grace has not been able to stop thinking about Patrick.

  In the corner of her room in the guest suite at Sybil’s is a large chaise, a cashmere throw draped over one arm. Patrick has been in her thoughts all day, and finally, after dinner, she curls up in the chaise, pulling the throw over her feet, picking up her phone. Her heart jumps a little at the prospect of hearing his voice – it has been a while since they spoke – but it’s only Patrick, she tells herself. Nothing to be nervous about.

  At the very least, Grace should tell him what has happened, she thinks. At the very least she owes him closure, of the story with Beth, if nothing else. She looks at her watch. Who knows where he is at eight o’clock in the evening in California.

  ‘Grace?’ His voice is familiar enough to instantly dissipate her nerves. Nerves? What was she thinking. It’s Patrick. Patrick!

  ‘Patrick.’

  She can hear the smile in his voice.

  ‘I was hoping you’d call. I was just sitting on my terrace having a drink and I found myself thinking about you.’

  ‘You mean, you’re not thinking about me all the time?’

  ‘Almost all the time.’ She can hear his smile down the phone, pictures him on a sweeping wood terrace lined with glass, looking out over the twinkling lights of Los Angeles. ‘I just had a break today during a lunch meeting, but don’t worry, I went straight back to thinking about you as soon as it was over.’

  ‘I hope you were wining and dining some bright young thing.’

  ‘If you can call Harvey Weinstein a bright young thing, then absolutely. Oh, Grace. It’s good to hear your voice. Are you still at the hotel?’

  ‘No. I’m in the spare room of Sybil’s, at Sparkill.’

  There is a pause. ‘You’re home?’

  ‘Depends on how you look at it. A few minutes away, yes.’

  ‘And how is it?’

  ‘Weird. In many ways it doesn’t feel like my home anymore. I feel like an alien uprooted. I’m not sure I belong anywhere anymore, and it’s difficult, obviously, knowing I could bump into Ted or Beth wherever I go.’

  ‘Have you?’

  ‘Not bumped into them unexpectedly. I did see Ted, but it didn’t go so well. I was so sure he would be able to see that I was telling the truth about Beth . . .’

  ‘That story was extraordinary!’ Patrick interrupts. ‘I couldn’t believe it when you emailed me. We were so right, that she had done this before.’

  ‘I know! But Ted wouldn’t hear it. Any of it. He ended up storming out.’

  ‘Ouch.’

  ‘He has always been stubborn, but I still thought he’d listen to me. Not that I behaved that well. I didn’t expect to be so upset, but I ended up getting terribly angry, which surprised me. I had no idea I was carrying around so much rage, but I was furious. How could Ted be so stupid? And financially! It’s a disaster! She’s in charge of the money, so God only knows how much she’s been spending. And his book. Oh, Patrick. His book. Have you heard?’

  ‘I have. The reviews haven’t been very good.’

  ‘Not good? They’re terrible. He’s made him
self a laughing stock. God only knows what his next book deal will be, or if he’ll even be able to get a deal. The truth is he’s been struggling with the last few books. No one knows, other than his publisher and agent, of course, but his sales have been plummeting, and everyone’s hope was that this book would be the comeback. I think his career might be over. I do. I think this girl has ruined his life too.’

  ‘So, what’s the solution?’

  There is a silence. Grace doesn’t say what she has been thinking, which is that if she moves back in, if they get back to normal, Ted will be able to write again. Together they will be able to revive his career, save face, again be the golden couple they have always been.

  She doesn’t say it, doesn’t want Patrick to know this is what she has been thinking. She isn’t thinking it now, the mere sound of Patrick’s voice is enough to wash her with a familiarity and safety that she doesn’t feel with Ted, has never felt with Ted.

  Home, she thinks to herself, listening to Patrick’s breathing down the line. With Patrick I am home.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Patrick says eventually. ‘About the money, about everything. Even though we suspected she was after the money, but still. It must have been a shock to find out that had happened.’

  We, thinks Grace, melting at the idea of her and Patrick still being a “we”, shaking her head to dislodge the thought, because thoughts like that, at this stage, will not lead her anywhere good.

  ‘It was,’ Grace says. ‘According to Clemmie, she’s been a complete nightmare. By the sounds of it she’s ruined Ted’s life.’

  ‘And other than Ted, how are you?’

  ‘Thinner,’ laughs Grace, for it is true. Her body is shrinking back to her usual size, and vain as it might be to admit the pleasure this is giving her, it is nevertheless true. ‘And better, generally. I take no pills now, at all, and I look back at all the crap that doctor had me on and I’m stunned that I ever allowed it to happen.’

  ‘You weren’t yourself.’

  ‘Clearly. So now, drug-free, with a whole new life, all things considered I have to say I’m doing pretty well. It’s hard to be home without being “home”, but I’m trying to be accepting of the fact that this is the start of a new life. Whether I wanted it or not is irrelevant. This is how it is, and the more I can accept that, the easier it seems to be. But how are you, Patrick? How is life back in LA?’

  ‘Crazy. And fun. And as surreal as ever. We’re going into pre-production of the next movie, which will film in England, so I’ll get to see more of Mum. Other than that, same old, same old.’

  ‘I miss you,’ Grace finds herself saying, shocked at the words that hang in the air.

  ‘I know,’ he says. ‘I miss you too. You’re doing what you need to do. You’ve found your life again.’

  ‘Right,’ Grace says, wondering suddenly if she has found her life; if, in fact, this is a life she wants at all.

  Forty-one

  Grace checks her phone to make sure the date is right, then looks again at the poster on the wall. Yes. This is the night Ted is speaking at Barnes & Noble on the Upper East Side. This is the venue that always attracts the biggest crowds, standing room only, long queues of people waiting to have their books signed.

  In the event room at the back, there are a handful of men dotted around the room, clutching copies of Ted’s new book. Not three hundred, as has been the case in the past. Not even thirty. She counts them. Thirteen.

  How the mighty fall.

  She wasn’t sure she would come, worried that she is close to stalking Ted, but she can’t let go, has a burning need to see them together, to see how they are with each other with her own eyes.

  Sybil does not know she is here. Grace told Sybil she was having dinner in the city with friends, because Sybil would not approve. She is not a fan of Beth, but sees her multiple times a week, thanks to Beth’s taking over Grace’s role at Harmont House.

  ‘Is she doing everything I used to do?’

  ‘She’s nothing like you, if that’s what you’re asking,’ said Sybil. ‘She doesn’t have the relationships with the residents. They don’t actually like her very much, so she hasn’t bonded with anyone. She’s efficient, though. She doesn’t cook there like you used to, but seems to cook at home and bring it in. I suspect it’s because she doesn’t want to spend much time with the women. I also suspect they know that too.’

  ‘So how is the food?’ Grace couldn’t help but ask.

  ‘Uninspired, but perfectly edible. Meatloaf, meatballs, teriyaki chicken. The residents say everything tastes the same. They miss your food, and they miss you.’

  ‘Have you seen her with Ted?’

  ‘Only by mistake, in town. I haven’t socialized with them, Grace. I wouldn’t do that to you. How are you feeling now? Are things getting any easier?’

  Grace nods. Sybil does not know that Grace cannot go to sleep without obsessively thinking about Ted and Beth, picturing them together, wondering how their life is, unable to imagine how different their relationship must be to Ted’s relationship with Grace.

  I always thought Ted was a bully, thinks Grace, browsing through the bookshelves downstairs, but perhaps I need to look at my part in it. Surely one can only bully those who allow themselves to be bullied. There’s no question of him bullying Beth; she is very definitely the one in charge.

  Would our relationship have been different had I not been so passive? she wonders. Could I have been any different than I was? My mother was aggressive, a bully, she thinks. No wonder I cast my husband in that same role; no wonder I lived most of my married life with exactly the same trepidation and fear I lived with as a little girl.

  How do you change if you have no awareness? she thinks. There is no doubt she has changed; she is a very different person from the one who ran barefoot from the hospital, crying in pain and fear. The Grace of today has an inner strength the old Grace may have had, but it was buried so deep she certainly had no idea of its existence.

  There is a word floating around her consciousness. “Safety”. The feeling of safety she had on the phone with Patrick the other day, the feeling of safety she had in England.

  I deserve to be safe, she suddenly thinks, startled, unsure as to where this came from.

  I deserve to be safe.

  The words whisper in her head and settle in her bones. Grace closes her eyes for a few seconds, feeling a strength and serenity she doesn’t remember feeling before.

  And then, propelled by some invisible force, Grace finds herself turning to watch Ted and Beth walk through the store, Beth unrecognizable, dressed as she is in Grace’s elegant clothes, appearing more sophisticated, more grown-up than Grace would ever have believed possible, the dumpy, plain girl she once employed long since disappeared.

  The manager comes to greet them, Beth clearly seducing him with that winning smile. Grace inches closer to try and hear the conversation.

  ‘I think it’s the weather,’ the manager says. ‘We always have a terrible turnout when it’s raining.’

  ‘That’s it?’ Beth says sharply as she sees the empty chairs in the room. ‘Did you not publicize it?’

  ‘Don’t worry.’ Ted lays a hand on her arm, which she brusquely shoves off. ‘I actually prefer the smaller events, more intimate, gives me a chance to get to know my readers.’

  Grace knows this is not true, that nothing enrages Ted more than a small turnout at an event. His arrogance hides a deep insecurity, but now that everything he has always feared has actually come to pass, it seems he is dealing with it far better than Grace would ever have thought.

  ‘This is just ridiculous,’ huffs Beth. ‘What a waste of time.’

  She comes across as imperious, grand. Everything that would alienate whoever was left of Ted’s readers.

  This room will fill up, thinks Grace, standing well out of eyesight. We have twenty minutes to go. This latest book may be bad, but he has long-standing fans, people who adore him.

  And even more suddenly,
she realizes she doesn’t need to be there. She has seen them together and, for the first time in months, a sense of closure settles on her shoulders. The only insight she has gained is that she doesn’t need to be there.

  It’s time for Grace to go home.

  She picks up a copy of Ted’s book. She has avoided it until now, but suddenly she knows it is time to read it. She will be able to read it without dissolving in pain with every page.

  There is one person in front of her in the queue. She pays, and then Grace is at the front. The salesgirl looks at the book, eyes widening with excitement.

  ‘You know he’s here? Ted Chapman! Right now! In the store! You could have the book signed!’

  ‘I know,’ Grace says. ‘It’s fine. I’m in a hurry.’

  ‘The event hasn’t started,’ insists the girl. ‘I could run over and get it signed for you now.’

  Grace turns and looks over at the empty room, at a career gone sideways, and shakes her head. ‘Really. Thank you, but no.’

  ‘Grace?’

  Grace turns, an expectant smile on her face, to see Beth staring at her in horror.

  ‘Hello, Beth,’ she says, silently congratulating herself on her calm. ‘You look well.’

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Beth’s voice is cold. Superior. It makes Grace smile.

  ‘I was just passing,’ she says. ‘I saw Ted had a reading and, well, I thought it was high time I read the book everyone’s talking about, although I understand the reviews have been . . . mixed.’

  ‘It’s jealousy,’ Beth says. ‘The media can’t stand his success.’

  ‘Maybe,’ Grace says. ‘Although “success” is a relative term, isn’t it? The publishing business is so fickle these days, but I’m sure the next book will be wonderful.’

  ‘Why are you here?’ Beth says. ‘Why are you really here?’

  ‘I’m leaving, don’t worry.’ Grace takes a breath. ‘Do you know, I’ve been dreading bumping into you. I’ve spent months and months demonizing you, but actually, I’m looking at you tonight and I now see you as terribly sad. I met Emily Tallman, by the way. She was very open about your influence on their lives. I don’t think you can help it. I think you are probably propelled by a desperate need for money, or power, and that destroying people’s lives comes very easily to you because you feel no remorse. You came very close to destroying my life, but I got it back. From what I understand, you’ve spent whatever little money was left, and word on the street is that Ted’s going to be lucky if he signs a publishing deal at all. If he does, there won’t be any money in it. I’m sure that’s the last thing you anticipated.’