by Paige Toon
My eyes graze over the crowds. Is anyone watching us? How far can we go?
‘I want you,’ he says, returning his lips to my mouth. ‘Let’s get out of here.’
‘Where can we go?’ I ask.
‘Hotel?’ he suggests.
I shake my head. March is Adelaide’s busiest month with the Fringe and the Clipsal car race going on. ‘They’re probably booked out.’
‘Where then?’ he asks.
‘Come back to mine,’ I find myself saying.
‘What?’ He looks alarmed.
‘We’ll be quiet.’
The look he gives me is so hot that it makes me tingle all over. He takes my hand and starts to walk off, but a fact filters through to my muddled brain: Nell was about to leave…
I pull him to a halt.
‘We have to say goodbye to the others.’
He nods once and releases me, but the expression on his face is so raw with desire that it takes my breath away.
‘Go that way,’ I urge, recognising the need for us to split up. We part company from each other and I return to the group.
‘There you are!’ Nell exclaims at the sight of me. ‘We were just about to go.’
‘Went to the loo,’ I lie.
‘Here you go,’ George says, handing me the bag of presents.
My eyes widen. ‘Thank you!’ I’d left them unsupervised in my haste to be with Ethan. We lost the balloons on the last leg of our journey.
‘No worries,’ he replies with a grin.
‘It was really nice to see you again,’ I tell him, avoiding Ethan’s eyes as he reappears.
‘You too,’ George replies.
‘Bye, Nell.’ I give her a hug. ‘Thanks for my bath goodies. Hope your head is okay in the morning.’
‘It’ll be fine,’ she says, giving me a kiss. ‘I’ll call you.’
I watch them walk away and then turn back to Tina and Josh. Josh has his arms around Tina’s waist from behind. If I look at Ethan, I have a horrible feeling Tina will be able to see straight through me.
‘I’m not sure I’ll last much longer,’ I say.
Her face falls. ‘We’ve only just got here!’
‘You guys can stay. I’m knackered. It’s been a tough week.’
She gives me a look of empathy that makes me feel even more deceitful.
She glances over her shoulder at Josh. ‘Will you dance with me?’
They stare at each other for a long moment before he nods, surrendering. She takes his hand and begins to lead him away, but I stop her.
‘If I’ve gone before you get back, thanks for tonight.’
‘Are you leaving now?’
‘Maybe,’ I admit reluctantly. It would be so much easier to slip away.
‘I’ll share a taxi with you,’ Ethan says, and my stomach flips over.
Are we really going to do this?
‘Alright, darling,’ Tina says. We hug goodbye and I watch them in a daze as they make their way to the dance floor. Ethan’s hand touches my waist and I whip my head round to look at him.
Yes, we are.
It takes forever to get outside, and it’s blissful to be engulfed in the cool, refreshing air. Ethan flags down a passing taxi.
We can’t keep our hands off each other in the car. At one point the driver interrupts to ask if we have our seat belts on. It would be mortifying if I was a normal, decent person, but I’m clearly nothing of the sort.
We get him to drop us at the end of the road so we can make as quiet an entrance as possible. As I open up my purse to take out my keys, I glimpse the bracelet from Ned. I falter, but only for a split second before I shut up the purse and open the door.
My bedroom is lit with moonlight from the open blind, but Ethan’s eyes are glinting in the darkness. We barely break eye contact as I unbutton his shirt and jeans and he unzips my dress. We take the rest of our clothes off quickly and climb into bed.
An electric charge seems to zap and crackle between us as his naked body covers mine, his kisses increasing in passion and urgency.
‘Wait!’ I whisper, placing my hands on his chest to hold him at bay.
He looks startled. ‘What?’
‘Condom.’
He frowns. ‘Aren’t you on the pill?’
‘No.’ I shake my head brusquely.
A second passes and then he climbs off me and goes to retrieve his wallet from his jeans. When he returns to the bed, he’s ready for me.
He kisses me deeply as he surges forward, and I gasp loudly against his mouth.
‘Shh,’ he whispers in my ear, placing his fingers on my lips.
I open my mouth and nip them and he smiles and kisses me again.
It takes a long time because we’re both so drunk, and, when it’s over, he collapses onto me in a sweaty heap, both of us panting loudly. Eventually he rolls off.
I lie there for a while, listening to his breathing growing heavier. I close my eyes and snuggle into him, then jolt away, shoving him violently.
‘What?’ he gasps.
‘You can’t stay here!’ I exclaim. ‘Get up! You have to go!’
He clambers out of bed, looking as horrified as I am at the thought of Dad and Liz finding him here in the morning.
‘Shh!’ I warn, stifling a giggle as he looks around in a panic for his clothes.
I get out of bed and help him, pulling on the camisole I sleep in before seeing him to the door. He almost trips over the bag of presents in the hall, which reminds me to take them to my room so the same thing doesn’t happen to Dad.
‘I’ll call you,’ he promises.
‘Don’t text,’ I whisper. ‘Dad and I are sharing a phone, remember.’
He nods and kisses me on my lips. I place my palm on his chest and a moment later he breaks away.
‘Bye,’ he says with a significant look before taking a step back from me.
I silently close the door and go back to bed.
Chapter 20
Twice. TWICE!
I groan and hold my hands to my head, feeling absolutely horrified. What the hell is wrong with me? Once was bad enough, but in a court of law, a jury might have found it just about forgivable under the circumstances. People do strange things when they’re staring death in the face.
But last night I have absolutely no excuse for.
I’m a slag. A slut. A disgrace. I’m absolutely disgusted with myself.
A wave of nausea passes over me and I feel like I’m going to throw up. No, I really am going to throw up.
I leap out of bed and run to the bathroom and let hurl into the toilet. Urgh. Why can’t I stop when I’m tipsy? Why do I always have to get completely shitfaced?
Because I’m a fucking idiot, that’s why.
Oh God, what have I done? I’ve done it again! Again!
I slump in misery in front of the toilet, but I have only a moment’s respite before another urge to vomit overcomes me.
‘Big night, I see.’
I am so not in the mood for Liz right now.
‘Shut the door,’ I snap. In my haste to get here, I left it open.
‘Dear me,’ she says with disapproval. She comes forward and gathers my hair back from my face.
‘I’m okay. Leave me,’ I implore.
She doesn’t, instead holding my hair in a makeshift ponytail while I let rip again.
‘Are you done?’ she asks eventually.
I nod pitifully.
She turns on the shower. ‘Hop in there and I’ll bring you some clean clothes.’
I mumble a thank you and she leaves, closing the door behind her.
I’m such a mess. What is wrong with me? Why did I have to have sex with him again?
I love Ned! I love my husband! God, I’m evil! I’m the worst sort of girl there is.
If Ned had come to Australia with me, none of this would have happened.
No! This is your fault, my inner voice berates. Don’t take it out on him. You have no one to blame but yourself
.
I have to concede that my inner voice is right.
‘What time did you get home last night?’ Liz asks when I come out of the bathroom, still feeling as sick as a dog. The sight of the bacon and eggs that she’s frying turns my stomach.
‘I don’t know. It was late,’ I reply.
‘I thought I heard you come in,’ she says, as my insides freeze over.
‘Sorry if I woke you,’ I reply carefully.
‘It was your birthday,’ she comments with a shrug.
‘Where’s Dad?’
‘He’s still in bed. I’m bringing him breakfast.’
‘That’s nice.’
‘Do you want some?’ she asks.
‘No, thanks. I’ll grab some cereal later when I feel like it.’
‘Have a big glass of water,’ she suggests. ‘You look awful.’
‘Thanks,’ I say drily, before adding, ‘I will.’
I know that I deserve every ounce of pain that I get.
I close my bedroom door and jolt at the sight of my bright red dress crushed against the wall. I swoop down and pick it up, shuddering or shivering – in truth, I’m not sure which – at the memory of Ethan unzipping it last night. An edgy, skittish feeling joins the queasiness in my stomach. Finding my clutch bag, I open it up and pull out my bracelet.
I feel wretched with guilt at the sight of it. I can hardly believe what I’ve done. And I did it so easily – with barely a second thought to the consequences. Surely it would be the end of our marriage if Ned ever found out. But how will he find out if I don’t tell him?
With a heavy sigh, I sit down on the bed.
I should call him, even if he is the last person I want to speak to.
I pick up the phone and dial. He sounds upbeat when he answers.
‘Hello?’
‘Hi, it’s me.’
‘Hey!’ he exclaims. ‘I was just thinking about you! How was last night?’
‘It was good. Feel a bit worse for wear today, though.’ That’s an understatement. God, Ned, I’m so sorry…
‘What did you get up to?’ he asks amiably.
I try my best to sound cheerful as I relay the evening’s events – most of them, anyway. I can tell he’s in a good mood, because he seems more comfortable than usual on the phone.
‘I meant to tell you yesterday,’ he says. ‘You’ve had a few cards sent here from friends and my family. I’ll post them to you on Monday.’
‘I don’t mind waiting until I get home. Sounds like a bit of a hassle.’
‘Not at all. I thought it might cheer you up to know that people here are thinking of you, too.’
‘That’s really kind, thank you,’ I reply quietly.
‘Oh, and Gretchen rang.’
Gretchen is a former colleague and the thought of her makes me feel even more bleak.
‘She said that she tried texting you,’ Ned continues. ‘Have you got your UK phone switched off?’
‘Yeah, I haven’t checked it for ages. I will.’
‘Cool.’ He pauses. ‘So, listen, there was something I wanted to talk to you about.’ He takes a deep breath before continuing, and his calm, rational tone makes me feel distinctly uneasy. ‘You know how KDW was bought out by the ad agency in New York?’
‘Yes…’ I reply slowly. Of course I do.
‘Max, Nick and Paul got huge pay-outs.’
‘I know.’ As they would do, being the founders of the company. I want him to get to the point.
‘Well, Zara—’ Here we go… ‘—hasn’t been very happy recently. She puts in all this hard work and all these hours, and those guys get all the money and are now locked in golden handcuffs for five years, so they won’t be going anywhere. Are you there?’
‘I’m here,’ I reply.
‘Don’t sound so worried.’
‘Just tell me what you want to say.’ I know I have absolutely no right to sound tetchy, but I’m damned if I can help it.
He continues. ‘Well, Zara is thinking about leaving and setting up on her own and—’
‘She’s asked you to go with her,’ I interrupt, feeling even more nauseous, which is quite a feat considering how crap I already feel.
‘It would be a fresh start. I’d be the Executive Creative Director of my own company. I’d be able to call the shots…’ Ned’s voice trails off.
I try very, very hard to sound reasonable. ‘But you’ve only just got promoted. You’ve got job security and this extra money coming in. Why would you want to throw it all away, now?’
‘I knew you’d be like this,’ he snaps.
‘Can you blame me?’ I raise my voice.
‘It’s just so typical. Things are finally working out and—’
‘Exactly!’ I exclaim, butting in. ‘Things are working out brilliantly so why would you chuck it in to go and work more closely with Zara, of all people?’ When I say her name, it sounds dirty. And don’t think I don’t know that I’m a raving hypocrite. ‘I’m sorry,’ I tell him contritely, before he can speak again. ‘I’ve just got a lot on my mind at the moment. Can we talk about it some more when I get back?’
‘When will that be?’ he asks flatly.
‘I’ve booked a return flight for the week after Easter.’
That’s in approximately three weeks’ time.
He sighs. ‘Yeah, I guess so.’ He doesn’t sound at all happy.
‘I mean, surely she can wait until then.’
‘No need to be sarcastic, Amber,’ he says darkly.
‘Sorry, Ned,’ I reiterate. ‘I am proud of you, you know.’
Pause. ‘I know. Listen, I’d better go.’
‘Are you going out tonight?’
‘I don’t think I’ll bother,’ he replies.
‘Did you have plans?’ I ask apprehensively.
‘Zara had suggested we meet up for a drink to discuss it further, but whatever. Doesn’t seem to be much point.’
The nerves and the sick feeling inside me intensify. Despite what I’ve done, I hate the thought of him being with her. With that in mind, maybe he should go. I feel like I need to punish myself.
‘Go,’ I urge. ‘It won’t hurt to talk things through.’
Another long pause, while my stomach contracts unpleasantly. ‘Yeah, maybe,’ he responds with a sigh.
‘Let’s talk in a few days.’ I sound very subdued.
‘Okay. Love you,’ he says.
‘You too,’ I reply, but neither of us says it like we mean it.
I feel like we’re two trains racing towards a fork in the track. We seem destined to split, but I have no idea if we’ll meet up again or keep going our separate ways.
After we end our call, I dig out my own mobile, plug it into my charger because the battery has drained, and turn it on. There are two messages from Gretchen and also a couple of texts from two other good friends of mine, Alicia and Josie. I met the former at university and flat-shared with the latter. On separate occasions, they texted to ask after me, and they also wished me a happy birthday for yesterday.
I feel a rush of affection towards them for thinking of me. I haven’t caught up with them for ages – not since well before Christmas, which was months ago. I told them I was coming to Australia, but life has been pulling us in different directions for a while, now. There seems to be a lot of that going on at the moment.
For a few seconds I imagine sitting beside Alicia or Josie on our sofa, nursing a cup of tea, or opposite Gretchen at the pub in Camden that we’d go to on Fridays when we were teaching at the same school. These three friends understood me better than anyone – even better than Tina and Nell, who, if I’m being honest, really only know the teenage me. It’s not that I haven’t been having a great time with two of my oldest friends, but for a moment I crave the in-depth conversations I used to have with Alicia, Josie and Gretchen.
For various reasons, we’re not as close these days, but even if I’m able to rectify that, I’ll never be able to confide in them about what
I’ve done. Not them, not anyone. If I choose to keep my infidelity from Ned, I’m certain that I will never tell another living soul. It’s a lonely thought, but I’m confident that the only people who will ever know what happened between Ethan and me will be Ethan and me.
I suddenly want to talk to him. He’s at work today – his last day running the Cellar Door before they shut up shop for harvest. The thought of hearing his voice spilling down the line makes me feel instantly better.
I metaphorically slap myself around my face. I can’t call him. I shouldn’t see him or speak to him ever again. What I’ve done is unforgivable, and even if Ned continues to be blissfully unaware of my actions, I need to make amends.
What I should do is eject Ethan from my life.
The thought of doing this hurts intensely. I pull back the covers and climb into bed, feeling tired and overwhelmingly sad.
I’m not sure I can let him go. I’m not sure I’m strong enough.
Yes, you are. Don’t call him… Don’t see him…
But the more I tell myself not to, the more I want to. The urge becomes more pressing, more urgent, like it’s an itch that I can’t scratch, an addiction that I can’t feed.
Tears of frustration sting my eyes and I press the heels of my palms to my eye sockets. I turn to face the wall, my knee pressing against a lump halfway down my bed. I reach under the covers and pull out Lambert.
I’ve been so bad, Lambert, I think to myself dejectedly. I’ve been a very—
‘NAUGHTY GIRL!’
I’m struck with a sudden memory of someone screaming this at me, their face red with rage in the rear-view mirror. Mum…
I fling Lambert away from me, but it’s too late. I’m overcome with the darkest feeling. It’s all-encompassing.
I am a bad girl. I remember that now. I’m bad at heart. I always have been.
I reach for the phone and call Ethan.
Chapter 21
‘It’s me.’ I can’t keep the anxiety from my voice. My heartbeat has accelerated to a manic pace.
‘Hey,’ he replies. ‘I’m with a customer—’
‘I’ll wait,’ I interrupt him.
‘Er, okay,’ he says uncertainly. ‘Or I can call you back?’
‘No, I’ll wait.’
I hear him chatting affably to whoever is in the shop, catching the occasional snippet of conversation. I’m aware that the customer finally pays and leaves, but I still jolt when Ethan comes back on the line.