Amy stayed rooted to the spot, shaking her head. ‘You tried to ruin my life,’ she said slowly. ‘My relationship, my career . . . What was Josie? Collateral damage?’
‘She was the one who chose to take the pills,’ Juliet said tartly.
‘This isn’t about the Mode job, is it?’ Amy said in a low, even voice. ‘You can’t stand to see me happy. You can’t bear to think that the girl from Westmead has done well.’
Neither of them spoke for at least a minute. Finally Juliet rose from her chair and crossed the room to a drinks trolley. She took a crystal tumbler and filled it with whisky, not offering Amy one.
‘You asked me why I took Tilly tonight,’ she said, tossing back the drink. ‘I wanted you to know what it feels like to have someone you love taken away from you, even if was only for a few hours. I wanted you to feel that pain.’
Amy took a step back, edging towards the door. She thought of Tilly upstairs in the bedroom. Suddenly it didn’t feel safe being here. But still she was desperate to know everything.
‘I did what I had to do, Amy. Just like you did. Tarting around the Oxford house in those tiny nighties, trying to look seductive for David. Do you know how stupid you looked? I didn’t think for one minute that he’d fall for it – the cheap tricks of the girl from the sticks – but you never can underestimate the propensity of men to think with their members. You blinded David – my David – with that little Eliza Doolittle act, and he fell for it.’
Amy frowned. ‘Is that what this is all about? David?’
Juliet looked wounded now. ‘We have known each other since we were thirteen,’ she said, gripping her glass so tightly that Amy could see her knuckles turning white. ‘I knew even then how right we were for each other. When we ended up at college together, I thought it would just be a matter of time before we settled down. But then you came along and ruined everything, and I ended up with the gay best friend, the marriage of convenience and the nice little interiors editorship. It’s not quite David, is it? The glorious love affair. Or Mode, the biggest job in publishing.’
Amy heard footsteps behind her, and turned to see David standing in the doorway, open-mouthed with shock.
Chapter 40
Oxford, 1995
It was supposed to be the greatest night of her life, the Commemoration Ball, and yet Juliet felt sick with nerves.
She had to tell him. Tonight was the night. She had put everything else in place. The dress had cost her a fortune, made her without question look her very best. Her hair had been cut and blow-dried by Oxford’s top stylist, nails painted with Hard Candy, body defuzzed and buffed with Body Shop, a cloud of Anaïs Anaïs finishing the whole look off.
She had waited so long for David Parker that part of her wondered if another few weeks or months would make all that much difference. They’d both been invited to Hugo Pearson’s twenty-first in September – his father owned a stables in Wiltshire and there was to be a weekend of riding and fine dining. Juliet could hardly wait. But still, it was finally time to tell David how she really felt, and she felt sure he would reciprocate her feelings.
It didn’t seem that long ago since that magical weekend in Scotland celebrating Angus McGregor’s eighteenth. A-level grades were just out, and she and David had both aced them all. Grouse season was in full swing, and David and Juliet had arrived a day early to take advantage of the glorious late-summer weather.
They’d spent the afternoon before the party on the moors, with champagne and a picnic, planning their future at Oxford: the societies they would join, the countries they wanted to travel to in the holidays, the secrets of Oxford they had already gleaned from open days and research.
Waves of teenagers had started arriving by the time they got back to the castle. There were several worryingly pretty girls among them, but it didn’t matter: Juliet felt as if she and David were already a couple, and was sure that something would happen that night to seal the deal.
At midnight, after a huge fireworks display that must have set the McGregors back thousands, they had wandered into the grounds together and watched another sort of light display: ribbons of acid green and purple that danced on the dark horizon. Juliet had never seen anything as beautiful as those Northern Lights before, but the moment became even more perfect when she felt David come up close behind her and plant a soft kiss on the back of her neck. She could remember, as if it were yesterday, time standing still as they kissed passionately and he murmured his longing.
The lights had brought half the party out into the grounds, and the spell had been broken, though Juliet was sure the magic could easily be reignited.
She hadn’t slept that night. There was a tight little group that stayed up until dawn, drinking the dregs of the champagne. When she had finally gone to her room – a tiny space in the eaves that had once been used by the staff of the castle – she’d hoped that David would come and find her, that he would slip into her single bed beside her and make love to her under the covers. He never came.
‘Juliet, can I get you a drink?’
She looked across to see Francis Harris, a postgrad student from Keble she had zero interest in, holding up a bottle of champagne.
‘Survivors’ photo is another three hours away yet. Gotta keep drinking. Gotta keep drinking.’
She smiled thinly and shook her head, hoping he’d get the message.
‘David, over here!’ Juliet prided herself on being a cool customer. She had a policy that people should come to her, but found herself waving to her friend enthusiastically.
He stalked over, holding a flute of champagne.
‘Fancy coming on the rides?’ she asked.
‘I think I’ll probably vom if I go anywhere near those things.’ He snorted.
‘What have you been doing?’
‘Avoiding Max. He’s still trying to persuade me to spend six months in Goa with him. Two weeks isn’t enough apparently, and he doesn’t understand the concept that I have to start work.’
He looked drunk and irritable and Juliet wondered if he had been taking drugs. She’d heard that Mungo Descales was so off his head on coke, he’d already had to be carried home by three members of the rugby team.
He handed her the empty glass and looked back towards the dance floor. ‘Back in a tick,’ he said, and staggered off again.
Pog appeared by her side with a fresh glass of champagne. ‘For you, my dear,’ he said, loosening his white tie.
‘What’s wrong with David?’ frowned Juliet, watching him latch onto a drunk-looking brunette.
Pog followed her gaze. ‘Had a terrible row with Annabel, apparently. She’s been putting all sorts of pressure on him to move in with her. Think he’s finally seen sense and dumped her.’
‘Thank God,’ she said, feeling her heart race a little.
‘Don’t know what that means for his employment prospects, though. He was supposed to be starting at Annabel’s dad’s firm in a few weeks. Slightly stuffed with that now, I should imagine.’
‘He’ll find something else,’ she said with absolute confidence. ‘David is brilliant. Any bank in London will be lucky to have him. I know lots of people in the City. I’ll start making some calls on Monday.’
‘You don’t have to sort out everyone’s problems, Jules.’
‘Don’t I?’ she said, feeling buoyed. ‘Anyway, let’s forget about real life for one night. Would you care to dance?’
She led Pog to a spot close enough to David that she could keep an eye on him but just far enough away that she could monitor the entire room. She liked to think of herself as a strong and independent woman; liked to think a couple of steps ahead and plan accordingly.
David was looking very red in the face now as he swayed to whatever track it was that the DJ was playing. But hell, he looked sexy. Cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth, his white shirt loose at the neck, h
e was easily the most handsome man at the party. Juliet knew she had to make her move. Annabel was lurking somewhere, and she’d seen Amy half an hour earlier too, behaving as if she belonged at the ball. She was looking pretty tonight, Juliet had to admit that. The warm weather had given her face some colour, the sun streaking her hair with highlights.
David’s friendship with Amy had started to worry Juliet of late. It had been a novelty having her in the house at first. When Pog had suggested his friend from The Bear joining them as the fifth housemate, Juliet had been sceptical but practical. Amy was an outsider – she was from the poly, for goodness’ sake – but no one else would want the attic room, which smelled overpoweringly of damp, so eventually she had agreed to the girl joining them.
At the beginning she had even quite enjoyed having her around. Juliet had a lazy streak when it came to domestic chores, and Amy kept the house spick and span. She would even do the washing-up, unasked, after it had piled up to mountainous proportions.
But lately, things had changed. On at least three occasions, Juliet had come back after lectures and found David and Amy sitting at the kitchen table, laughing, having fun, their conversation slowing on her arrival as if they had secrets they were unwilling to share.
At least David had a puritanical streak – a strong sense of decency that made Juliet fairly sure he would never two-time Annabel with his pretty housemate. But now that Annabel was out of the picture . . . well, she didn’t want to think about it.
‘What is he doing now?’ said Pog, peering over the top of the crowd. ‘He seems to have moved on to Dirty Dancing.’
Juliet squinted through the crowds. Was that Karen he was dancing with? Amy’s trashy friend from Bristol?
The track changed to one she recognised. Pulp’s ‘Common People’. She almost laughed out loud, but then quickly sobered as David took Karen’s hand and led her off the dance floor.
‘He’s having fun,’ grinned Pog. ‘Phwoar . . . look at them go.’
‘Pog, this isn’t funny.’
‘Why not?’
Juliet gritted her teeth. She couldn’t have anyone interfering with her plan. She had to tell David how she felt, tonight. Pick up from where they’d left off at the McGregor castle. This was no time for curveballs. She grabbed Pog’s arm.
‘You’ve got to stop him,’ she said.
‘I suppose you’re right. I don’t imagine Amy will be happy.’
It was a strange thing to say, but Juliet let it go.
‘Hurry up, then.’
Pog looked at her. ‘Are you coming?’
Juliet shook her head. It was not like her to remain passive in any situation, but she didn’t want to follow David and Karen into the dark. She was afraid of what she might see. It was one thing snogging on the dance floor; another thing entirely to go somewhere quiet.
As Pog followed David and Karen, Juliet glanced towards the bar. Amy caught her eye and winked at her. Panic fired to every nerve ending. Suddenly she wanted to know exactly what David and Karen were up to. It would be just like Pog to get distracted en route, to bottle out and give them some privacy.
She took a flute of champagne from the waiter for Dutch courage. She wasn’t a great drinker, and it went to her head almost immediately. As she moved away from the dance floor, the music grew fainter, until all she could make out was the thud, thud of a bass line. Or maybe it was her heart.
She didn’t know New College well, had little reason to come here. She knew there were cloisters and stone corridors that were perfect for secret assignations, but Pog had followed the couple into the dark depths of the garden, past the fairground rides and the happy crowds and a makeshift railing designed to keep people from exploring further. She glanced back. The college looked glorious against the background of the night sky, its honey stone shining like bars of gold bullion.
She heard them before she could see them, and slid behind the trunk of a birch tree to avoid being seen herself. The moon appeared from behind a cloud and illuminated Karen’s bottle-blonde hair and the back of David’s head. Her hands were all over him, helping him slip off his jacket, fingers burrowing under his shirt. David’s own hands rolled down the top of her green stretch dress.
Juliet gasped as they pulled apart for a moment and one white breast was exposed in the darkness. Then David lowered his head, burying it in Karen’s cleavage, settling his mouth on her nipple. Juliet closed her eyes. Why hadn’t she lent the tramp a different gown?
They were hungry now, desperate. The top of Karen’s dress was round her waist now, her long creamy legs exposed. Juliet could hear her moans even from this distance. David was making Karen feel so good, she felt her own desire stir, a tight, warm pulse of pleasure that it was impossible to ignore.
David’s trousers were around his knees now, Karen’s eager, experienced fingers rolling down the cotton of his boxer shorts.
There was something raw and unbridled about the scene. Juliet had never had a sexual experience like the one unfolding in front of her; even when she had imagined herself and David finally consummating their glorious friendship, it had never been like this.
The noises were louder now, the pair of them half naked. She couldn’t bear to watch any more. Struggling for breath, she gathered up the folds of her chiffon skirt, then turned and fled back to the ball.
Dawn light was beginning to flicker in the sky, and she knew it was time to go home. She grabbed a flute of champagne and downed it in one, desperate to numb the pain. Would David bring Karen back to the Holywell Street house? Would he have sex with her there, under Juliet’s nose? Was he that crass; was she that cheap? She had no idea.
She saw Amy still working at the bar; pouring one glass of champagne then another. It was all Amy’s fault. She had brought Karen into their lives. Into David’s bed. She felt a hatred for her housemate so strong she thought it might knock her over.
She looked back at the moonlight shining on the castellations of the college, wondering if she should run back and break up the passionate tryst. But she knew it was too late for that. Too late to tell David about her feelings, too late to stop him spoiling her final night in Oxford. It was over.
Chapter 41
Present day
‘Oh Jules. Why?’ he asked so quietly they could hardly hear him.
Amy stepped back and grasped her husband’s hand. She had no idea how he had made it across London so quickly – he must have broken every speed record to get here – but she was so glad to see him.
The sight of him had made Juliet waver, her pale, cool armour melting to the thinnest sheen.
‘Why did she have to move into the house?’ she asked, her voice wobbling. ‘I found that house. I wanted to live with you and Pog and even Max if he came as part of the package. But not her. She came along and ruined everything.’
‘Is this really what you want?’ asked David simply. ‘Our friendship destroyed, Amy crushed, Josie in hospital. What’s it all for?’
Tears started to leak from Juliet’s eyes. ‘I wanted to fix things. I’ve always wanted to fix things. Ever since the night of the Commem Ball. But I never knew how until Josie came along.’
She was crying now, deep sobs from the depths of her soul, but neither Amy nor David moved forward to comfort her.
‘Claudia’s mugging. That wasn’t an accident, was it?’ said David slowly.
They heard Juliet take a sharp inhalation of breath.
‘Was it?’ he said more fiercely.
She looked taken aback at the force of his emotion. She squeezed her eyes shut, then snapped them open before she spoke again.
‘I’d been advising on a gallery renovation in the East End. I overheard a couple of the scaffolders saying they’d had someone roughed up for not paying a debt. I knew they could help me.’
‘Poor Claudia,’ whispered Amy, wondering at how little she really
knew about the woman in front of her.
‘Josie was beautiful, sexy, useful. I didn’t want her to go back to Bristol or wherever it was she came from.’
‘You wanted her to come to Provence and seduce my husband instead,’ Amy said.
Juliet’s voice hardened. ‘She was another low-rent tart who saw what she wanted and would stop at nothing to get it.’
‘Really? Admit it, you planted the bra, bought the necklace. Josie didn’t do any of that,’ said Amy, imagining Juliet scuttling to the village, buying the pendant that Josie had remarked on and planting the receipt in David’s wallet. The number of times over the years they had all been out for dinner, gone on holiday, to the theatre or Sunday brunch . . . and all that time she was trying to ruin Amy’s marriage.
‘I did it for you,’ Juliet said, clutching the glass to her chest as if she would never let it go, looking at David with absolute devotion. ‘I did it all for you, David, because I love you.’
‘If you cared about me at all, you’d want me to be happy.’
‘We could have been happy. We would have been happy if it wasn’t for her. Remember that night. The night in the Highlands. Our whole life could have been that magical. I thought we could recapture it at Oxford. But we didn’t. I wanted to tell you how much I loved you at the ball that night, but it was never the right moment, and then it passed . . .’
‘That was a long time ago, Juliet. We were only ever friends. I moved on, and so did you.’
A noise escaped from Juliet’s throat; a sound of pain and longing. She put her glass on the mantelpiece and tried to compose herself.
‘Go and get Tilly,’ said Amy, squeezing her husband’s hand. She didn’t want to be here another minute. The longer she listened to Juliet, the more she admitted, the more she was convinced that the woman was mad, that envy and bitterness had twisted her core, her values and her mind.
David disappeared upstairs. When he had gone, Juliet took a step closer to Amy.
‘I didn’t get the man, but at least I got the job,’ she said. ‘Let’s see how dynamic and interesting and sexy you are when you’re just another stay-at-home mother killing time between yoga classes and school pick-up. Let’s see how long it is before David finds himself a pretty, ambitious thirty-year-old he can mould into wife number two.’
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