by Suzy K Quinn
I laugh. ‘No.’
‘She should be,’ Jen interrupts. ‘Hey, I know you, don’t I? You’re Sebastian Blatch, right?’
The man shakes his head. ‘That’s my brother.’
‘So you must be Tobias.’ Jen gives him her mega-watt smile. ‘I’m Jen. You own the Wahu chain, right? Is business good?’
‘We’re getting there.’ Tobias glances at me. ‘Jen. Would you be kind enough to introduce me to your friend?’
‘Of course!’ Jen’s face lights up. ‘Tobias. Meet Sophia. My very best friend.’
‘And the most beautiful girl on this boat,’ says Tobias, not taking his eyes off me.
I twiddle my hair, feeling awkward.
‘Would you girls like to join us in the cabin?’ Tobias asks.
‘Oh, no thank you,’ I say, turning back to dance. But then I see someone at the yacht bar who makes me lose my footing.
Cassandra.
64
Cassandra Kilburn stands by the cocktail bar, sipping from a martini glass and elegantly puffing a gold-tipped cigarette.
Jen follows my gaze. ‘Oh my God! That bitch.’
‘I want to go,’ I say.
‘Sophia, you’re not going anywhere,’ says Jen. ‘Don’t you dare leave a party because of that old cow. You can’t run away. Why not face your fears? You’ll have to act with her tomorrow.’
‘That’s tomorrow,’ I say.
‘Sophia Rose.’ Jen puts a hand on her curvy hip. ‘You are not going to leave a great party just because some tarted-up old woman slept with your husband.’
‘Jen!’ I hiss. ‘Keep your voice down. And she didn’t just sleep with him. I wish it were that simple.’
‘You’re the one wearing the ring,’ says Jen.
Across the boat, Cassandra notices me and smiles an actress’s smile.
I’m startled, not knowing where to look.
‘What is she looking at?’ Jen snaps.
‘Me,’ I say.
‘Hey. HEY!’ Jen shouts, marching across the boat.
‘Oh god. Jen, no!’ I call out, hurrying after her. ‘Don’t say anything. Please.’
But Jen strides right up to Cassandra. ‘I’d like a word with you,’ she demands, slamming her champagne glass down on the bar.
I wince.
Cassandra blinks languidly. ‘Who are you?’
Jen glares up at her. ‘My name is Jen. I’m Sophia’s friend.’
‘Can’t Sophia talk for herself?’ says Cassandra, with a cat-like smile.
‘Jen,’ I say, grabbing her arm. ‘It’s fine. Honestly.’
‘You had a thing with Marc Blackwell once upon a time. Right?’ Jen yells.
Oh god. I want to cover my eyes.
‘Right,’ says Cassandra.
‘When you meet his wife,’ says Jen, ‘the polite thing to do is keep quiet about it.’
Cassandra shrugs. ‘The word wife means nothing to me. No one will ever have what Marc and I had.’
Ouch.
Music still pounds, but half the crowd have stopped dancing. I feel their eyes on us.
‘Come on Jen,’ I say, pulling her arm. ‘Let’s go.’
But Jen isn’t budging.
‘Are you fucking kidding me?’ Jen shouts. ‘That’s my friend’s husband. You put your claws away.’
‘I don’t need to use claws.’ Cassandra puts her drink down. ‘Marc’s always been mine. It’s only a matter of time before he comes home. Now if you’ll excuse me.’
She waves at a waiter, and he hurries over with a white fur coat.
Cassandra slips her arms into the fur. ‘Tell Marc to wait up for me. I’ll be home soon.’
She smiles graciously and strides away.
I put a hand to my mouth, feeling tears coming.
‘Don’t listen to a word of it,’ says Jen, glaring after Cassandra. ‘Marc loves you. That’s the real Marc. Everything before was just an experiment. Come on – you were just saying it’s time to forgive and forget.’
I clutch my champagne glass. ‘I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus.’
‘Marc was a teenager when he met Cassandra,’ says Jen. ‘Too young to know better.’
‘I need to go back,’ I say, pushing my glass on the bar. ‘I need to talk to Marc.’
65
Back at the villa, I creep upstairs to check on Ivy, while Jen uses the bathroom.
The bedroom is dark, and I expect to see Tanya sleeping on the daybed.
But Tanya is nowhere in the room.
Oh my god.
Ivy!
I nearly trip over my feet, hurrying to the cot.
Thank heavens.
My baby is sleeping soundly on a crisp, white sheet, her thumb pushed into her mouth.
But where on earth is Tanya? I know she wouldn’t just leave Ivy like this.
‘Sophia.’ Marc’s voice rings through the darkness, and I see the shadow of him, rigid in a Chesterfield chair.
Moonlight shines across one sharp cheekbone.
‘Marc.’ I grasp the cot in surprise. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Waiting for you.’
‘You didn’t need to do that. Where’s Tanya?’
‘I relieved her.’ Marc stands. ‘A better question is, where were you?’
‘Out with Jen.’
‘Just Jen?’ I feel his glare in the darkness.
‘No,’ I say. ‘A whole lot of people.’
‘Cassandra told me,’ says Marc.
I feel sick. ‘You talked to her?’
‘She came to see me.’
I grab a pillow and throw it at him.
Marc catches it and places it on his chair. ‘I want to know what happened tonight.’
‘This was my first night out since Ivy was born,’ I say. ‘It’s barely even midnight. Given what you’ve brought into my life recently, I’d have thought you’d be happy for me to be letting loose. I can’t believe—’
‘There were drugs at that party.’ Marc stalks towards me. ‘You put yourself in danger. If you’re not old enough to choose your company wisely, then you should stay home.’
‘We had nothing more than cocktails,’ I say, meeting his glare. ‘And who are you to tell me to stay home?’
‘I’m your husband.’
‘How dare you tell me what to do,’ I snap, ‘after you’ve been entertaining your ex-girlfriend—’
‘There was no entertaining,’ says Marc. ‘She had something to tell me. We talked briefly. And that was that.’
He says the words coolly. As if there’s nothing wrong at all. But fireworks explode in my chest.
I shake my head, furious. ‘I came back willing to forgive you. To move on.’
‘Cassandra was concerned,’ Marc growls.
‘Oh, like hell she was,’ I say, barely holding back my rage. ‘She wants you back.’
Marc turns to the moon, shining through the latticed window. ‘I already told her. I have no intention of revisiting the past.’
Ivy stirs in her cot.
‘And why would you say something like that?’ I hiss.
‘It was … necessary.’ He turns back to me. ‘We’re moving off the point. Right now, it’s your behaviour I’m concerned about.’
‘Don’t talk to me like I’m a child.’
‘Then don’t act like a child.’ He walks around the bed and pulls back the duvet. ‘It’s late. You’ve been drinking. Get some sleep. Maybe you’ll see sense in the morning.’
‘Don’t tell me what to do.’ I sit on the velvet sofa and cross my arms. ‘I’ll go to bed when I’m good and ready. You can go now. I don’t want you here.’
‘I’ll leave you to your temper tantrum.’ Marc goes to the cot, places a gentle hand on Ivy’s chest, then stalks out of the room.
When the door closes, I climb into bed and burst into tears.
A few minutes later, I hear Jen’s voice.
‘Soph?’ she says softly, and I know she’s standing right by the bed. ‘I heard … a bi
t of that. I didn’t mean to listen in. I just came up to check on you. Do you want me to stay?’
I shake my head at the duvet. ‘I just want to be alone.’
66
I don’t sleep well that night, and wake at Ivy’s every murmur and movement.
My furious conversation with Marc keeps running around my mind.
How dare he lecture me about going out, when his ex-girlfriend visited him late at night?
Oh god. I am so angry I can barely think straight.
Images of Cassandra, with her fur coat and red fingernails, at the door of Marc’s villa …
How could he even speak to her? Doesn’t he know how much pain she’s caused me?
I was ready to forgive and forget. But now I’m not so sure.
Letting go of Marc … could I do it?
Surely anything is better than this pain. Jealousy is eating me up inside.
Ivy gives a little murmur, and I rest a hand on her back, watching her sleep.
Marc is the love of my life. There will never be anyone like him, ever again. But if he wants Cassandra …
Stop thinking like that. It’s crazy.
But I can’t help it.
What if Marc does have unfinished business? What if she can give him things I can’t?
‘Sophia, wake up.’ A hand shakes my shoulder.
Through sleep-softened eyelids, I see Tanya’s anxious face.
‘Is it late?’ I say, pulling myself up in bed. I look around for Ivy, and to my relief see her still sleeping in the cot.
‘No. It’s still early.’ Tanya perches on the edge of my bed. ‘But you have to see this before everyone else does.’
‘See what?’ I blink at the sunlight.
Tanya waves a newspaper in front of my face.
‘What is it?’ I ask, my mouth feeling dry.
‘A French tabloid.’ Tanya drops the paper on my lap.
I try to focus on the blurred front-page image.
Oh god.
‘It’s—’
67
‘It’s you,’ says Tanya. ‘And Cassandra.’
The front page is split into two pictures.
One is a beautiful, posed red-carpet shot of Cassandra, all red lips and glossy hair. The other is me, talking to Jen and Tobias on the yacht deck.
My face is blurred, and Tobias is leaning attentively towards me.
I scan the article, trying to make sense of it.
‘Do you know any French?’ I ask Tanya.
‘A bit,’ she says. ‘I did it for A-level.’
‘Do you know what the article says?’ I ask.
Tanya hesitates. ‘Sort of. It says Cassandra was comforting Marc last night. While you were out partying.’
I close my eyes. ‘Oh god.’
Turning the page, I see a grainy, night-time shot of Cassandra at the door of Marc’s villa.
She’s wearing lacy underwear, sheer enough to show her nipples. Around her shoulders hangs the white fur coat she wore last night.
‘What happened to her dress?’ I spit.
‘God knows,’ says Tanya.
I throw back the duvet. ‘I need to talk to Marc. Right now. Will you watch Ivy?’
My feet are bare as I run across the complex towards Marc’s beach villa.
As lawn turns to soft sand, I imagine Cassandra taking this same walk last night, high heels sinking into the ground.
Did she take her dress off before she got to Marc’s villa? Or did she come inside and …
The villa feels silent as I approach folding glass doors, but I sense Marc is awake.
I take deep breaths and lift my fist to knock. But before my knuckles hit the glass, Marc appears. He’s wearing grey sweatpants and nothing else, his toned torso long and muscular.
‘Sophia.’ Marc pulls the door open.
I see white tape wrapped around his knuckles, torn in places with blood showing through.
‘You’ve been boxing,’ I say.
He nods. ‘For some reason, I felt the urge to punch something.’
‘You saw the newspaper?’ I ask.
‘Come inside.’
68
The beach villa is made of white wood, with two walls of bi-folding glass.
Breakfast is laid out on the wooden veranda outside, and I see an untouched basket of croissants.
‘Did you eat?’ Marc asks.
‘Not yet.’ I scuff my bare foot back and forth on bare wood floorboards. ‘I’m not really hungry.’
‘Sophia—’ Marc crosses his arms.
‘Please Marc.’ I look up at him, knowing my eyes are brimming with tears. ‘There are more important things to talk about. I couldn’t eat, even if I wanted to.’
Marc pulls open the veranda doors and strolls out into the morning sun. He pours coffee and offers me a cup.
‘Take this, at least,’ he insists, as I walk outside to join him.
‘Thank you.’ The warm cup feels comforting.
‘Would you sit down?’ he asks.
I shake my head. ‘I’m fine standing.’
‘Good god, must you always be so headstrong?’ Marc pulls out a white-wood chair. ‘Just sit down. Please.’
Reluctantly, I take a seat.
Marc picks up his own coffee and takes a sip. ‘I already told you Cassandra came to see me.’
I give a curt laugh. ‘You didn’t tell me what she was wearing. Or what she wasn’t wearing.’
Marc eyes fix on me. ‘I have no idea what she was wearing.’
‘Oh come on. You didn’t notice she was in her underwear?’
‘I’m telling the truth, Sophia.’ He puts his cup down, placing both palms flat on the table. ‘I was far more interested in what she was telling me. About you. I didn’t even let her inside. You, on the other hand, were looking extremely friendly with Tobias Blatch.’
I look away from him. ‘Nothing happened.’
‘Oh yes.’ He takes a seat opposite me. ‘I could see how innocent things were. By the way he was looking at you.’
‘You can hardly complain,’ I say. ‘There’s a picture of a half-naked woman coming to your room.’
‘She came to my room,’ says Marc. ‘Not inside. Christ – when she told me what was going on at that party, I nearly marched straight out and carried you home over my shoulder.’
‘So why didn’t you?’ My words are softer now.
‘You were already on your way back,’ he says, taking my hand across the table. I feel the soft, cotton bandage wrapped around Marc’s hand, and the angry blood smattering his knuckles.
‘How could you have known that?’ I ask.
‘Does it matter?’
‘Yes. It matters,’ I say.
He grips my hand tight. ‘I had security follow you.’
Waves crash, and the sky overhead turns ominously grey.
I blink at Marc, not quite believing what I’m hearing. When it sinks in, I snatch my hand from his.’
‘You had me followed?’ I shout.
‘What did you expect me to do, Sophia?’ Marc crosses his arms. ‘You were upset. Not in a sound frame of mind. Anything could have happened.’
I get to my feet. ‘When are you going to realise I’m a grown up?’
‘When are you going to stop acting like a child?’ Marc stands too, palms back on the table.
‘Oh, so it’s grown up to have me followed?’ I shout. ‘I thought we were supposed to love each other. Trust each other.’
‘This isn’t about trust,’ Marc growls. ‘It’s about safety.’
‘Oh really?’ My eyes drop to his bloodied, bound fists. ‘Because from the state of your knuckles, this is about jealousy.’
‘You’re jealous too,’ says Marc darkly.
‘Any wife would be jealous if a half-naked ex-girlfriend visited her husband late at night. It’s just disrespectful,’ I shout back.
Marc’s eyes drop to his knuckles. ‘Cassandra doesn’t have a lot of boundaries. There’s no sense maki
ng an issue of it. I told you – I didn’t even let her in.’
‘That’s not what the papers think,’ I snap.
‘Since when did papers tell the truth?’ His eyes find mine, and they’re suddenly soft, blue and light. ‘Look, I had no idea Cassandra was going to pay me that late night visit. But I’m glad she did. You could have got yourself in some serious trouble.’
My throat feels thick and tight. ‘She told me last night that I could never have what you and she had. That you would come back to her. Did you know that?’
Marc comes towards me. ‘Look, for what it’s worth, I told Cassandra her visit wasn’t appropriate. But I appreciated the information she brought. God knows, security didn’t know you were getting into that sort of trouble.’
‘I wasn’t.’ I’m caught in his eyes now.
‘You might not have meant to do anything,’ Marc continues, ‘but Tobias could have had other ideas. You’ve had your drink spiked before. You can hardly expect me not to worry.’ He takes both my hands, swinging them, toying them back and forth. ‘For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.’
‘For what?’
‘For having you followed,’ says Marc, his eyes still light and holding mine. ‘And – I’m sorry about this article. Christ, I should know by now how Cassandra works.’
‘Do you think she set up the photo?’ I blink up at him.
‘Who else could have done it?’ He squeezes my hands.
‘How can you not hate her for doing that?’ I ask.
‘I wouldn’t waste my energy.’ He takes a step closer, pulling me against him and stroking my hair. ‘Cassandra has enough of her own demons, believe me.’
‘I have to shoot a scene with her this morning,’ I murmur into his chest.
‘No. You don’t.’ His hand carries on rhythmically stroking. ‘I want her off the movie.’
‘If that happens, she’ll have won,’ I say. ‘You were right Marc. This movie is a challenge. I need to learn. Test myself.’
‘This is a test too far,’ Marc growls, and I feel the words in his chest.
‘No. I signed up for this movie. I made a promise to Nadia.’
‘This isn’t about winning, Sophia.’ He takes my hand.
‘Of course not. It’s about being a professional.’ I step back, looking up at him. ‘Marc, I don’t want you there. When I shoot my first scene with Cassandra. I want to handle this myself.’