by Nikki Ashton
Martha felt bile rise in her throat. “He must be with her,” she whispered almost to herself.
“We don’t know that. Skins is going to get housekeeping to let him into Luke’s room. He’s going to call me back in a few minutes.”
Martha didn’t know what to say. She felt empty, shell shocked and sad – heartbroken even.
“Martha are you still there?”
“Yes, I’m here. Thanks for ringing Stace, but I think we both know that I’ve obviously reached the end of my shelf life as far as Luke is concerned.”
“I don’t get it though,” Stacey cried. “I saw how much he liked you. He told Skins how much he liked you.”
“Yeah well,” Martha laughed. “He told me that he loved me, so what does that tell you?”
“That he loves you,” Stacey gasped. “I’ve never known Luke say those words to anyone. Please Martha, don’t jump to any conclusions until you’ve spoken to him.”
“I know you care about him Stace,” Martha replied. “But I know he’s done this and if I’m honest I knew from the first time we kissed that this would happen. I should have just listened to my instincts and steered clear of him – or at least not given him my heart.”
Martha thought that Stacey might call her back, but she heard nothing from her. She started to get worried that something bad had happened to Luke, but then his betrayal hit her again and suddenly she didn’t care about him.
At around midday, Martha heard something being pushed through her letterbox, followed by a thump on the hall mat. Dragging her feet, she walked into the hall and saw a brown envelope on the floor. She stooped to pick it up, took the envelope back into the lounge and sat down on the sofa. Her name was typed on the front, but there was no address or stamp on it. Martha had no idea what was inside, but for some reason a sense of dread came over her and her hands started to shake as she ripped the envelope open.
Carefully she pulled out the contents. In her trembling hand was a photograph; a collage of three pictures. One was of Luke leaning against the wall of an open lift, his hands were on Rachel’s waist and his head was thrown back against the wall as she kissed his neck. The second was Rachel with one hand on a hotel room door handle, while her other was grabbing Luke’s shirt, pulling him into the room, and the third was a picture of Luke closing the hotel room door, his head was down, but there was no doubt it was him. Each picture was time and date stamped, making it clear that he had indeed stayed the night. She stared down at the pictures, tears welling in her eyes. There was no way that Stacey could tell her not to jump to conclusions now.
Martha wasn’t sure how long she sat staring at the photograph, but when a banging at the front door roused her, the room had got colder and darker. She glanced at the clock, it was only three in the afternoon, but the sky outside was black and rain was lashing down. The door banged again, followed by a shout.
“Martha open the door, please!”
It was Luke. Martha pulled her legs up and clutched the photograph to her, like a child would hold a teddy bear for comfort, except there was no comfort whatsoever on the images that she held. She stayed still, even holding her breath, hoping that Luke would think she was out and go away. But he didn’t, he carried on banging and banging, his shouts getting louder and more agitated. Martha knew that she had to face him at some point, so pulling herself up she stormed into the hallway and flung the door open.
“What?” she screamed.
“I promise you this is not what it looks like,” A rain sodden Luke said, thrusting the newspaper under her nose.
Martha moved back into the lounge with Luke following her.
“You promised me,” Martha cried as she turned on him. “You said you never cheated. You lied to me.”
Martha felt as though her heart was shattering into a million pieces and each shard of it was stabbing at the inside of her chest. Holding back the sob that was desperately trying to escape from her throat, Martha’s breathing quickened, and her legs started to shake.
At the sight of Martha breaking down in front of him, Luke’s stomach lurched and a wave of nausea hit him.
“Nothing happened, I promise you,” he pleaded, holding out his hand to her. “She was staying at the same hotel, and begged me to have one drink with her. This is a load a shit about us laughing and joking, and as for leaving arm in arm, no way did that happen.”
Martha took a step back from him. “Don’t touch me, don’t come near me,” she cried. “Just tell me why, you told me only that morning that you loved me, so why? Why, Luke?”
Martha’s eyes were wild and filled with pain as she stared at Luke. He shook his head and rubbed a hand down his face.
“I didn’t do anything,” he replied, his voice wavering. “She wanted a drink with me for old time’s sake, and I walked away, but she dragged me back and I agreed to one drink, okay I admit we had a few more than one, but that’s all it was; a drink nothing more. I’m so sorry, please baby please believe me.”
“Believe what Luke? Believe you slept with Rachel? Believe that you betrayed me?” Martha screamed, throwing the photograph at Luke, it swung through the air and landed face down on the floor. “There’s the fucking proof of that.”
Luke’s heart stopped as he bent down to pick up the picture.
“That can’t be me,” he cried, staring at the images. “I swear that didn’t happen in the lift.” As soon as he said it Luke knew that he couldn’t be sure about what had happened in the lift – he’d been drunker than he had been for a long, long time – it can only have been the champagne that they’d had with dinner.
“It is you Luke, look at the bracelet on your wrist.” Martha jabbed at the picture with her finger.
Luke stared at the picture and drew in a shuddering breath. It was his bracelet, it was his wrist, and it was him.
“I admit, I was drunk, absolutely plastered, but there is no way I let her kiss me like that.” He stared at the picture again. “Maybe they photoshopped me or something,” he cried staring at Martha with begging eyes.
“Christ Luke, don’t be so ridiculous and just admit that you slept with Rachel.”
“Fuck no,” he said throwing the picture to one side. “I didn’t sleep with her.”
“The evidence is pretty much conclusive don’t you think. You and her kissing and then you leaving her room at two A.M. this morning.” Martha turned away and ran a hand through her hair. “You need to go before Betty gets back.”
“I’m not going anywhere until you believe me.” Luke’s voice was full of desperation. She had to believe him. Yes, he’d made the mistake of having a few drinks with Rachel, which was betrayal enough after what she did in Italy, but he didn’t kiss her – at least he didn’t think he had, he certainly wouldn’t have wanted to.
“Can you honestly say you didn’t sleep with her?” Martha screamed. “Well can you?”
Luke silently stared at Martha for a few seconds. Had he been so drunk that he wouldn’t remember? He did have the hangover from hell this morning when he woke up, in his own room, definitely not in Rachel’s. He woke at just gone seven, fully clothed, and then went down to the gym and did a five mile run before having a sauna - which was where Skins had found him. Could he possibly have done what the pictures were showing, surely he’d know?
Martha took his silence as an admission of guilt. “Obviously not, so just go. I can’t be near you right now.”
“Martha, please. This doesn’t need to change anything. I promise you it’s not true. I’ll get Rachel on the phone and she can tell you,” Luke pleaded reaching into his pocket.
“No! I do not want to speak to her.” Martha collapsed onto the sofa and buried her head in her hands. “You knew I was scared about this happening,” she said after a short silence, “but you charmed me with your sexy little smile and your romantic words, and I believed you. I thought you were pretty much perfect, you treated me as though I was special.” Martha turned her back to Luke and bent over, sobbing aga
inst her knees. “You’ve broken my heart Luke,” she cried as the sob she had been holding back finally clawed its way out of her throat. ”I fucking knew that this would happen, but you made me believe that we could work. I should have listened to my instincts and stayed away from you.”
Luke quickly moved to her, placing a hand on her back. “Martha, please don’t cry, baby.”
Martha straightened up and turned to push Luke away. “Don’t touch me,” she screamed.
Luke breathed heavily as he wiped the tears from his face with the hem of his t-shirt. He wanted to hold her, take her in his arms and make it all go away, but that wasn’t going to happen.
“I should’ve just said no to the drink,” he said almost to himself.
“You shouldn’t have needed to say no,” Martha hissed. “You should have been able to have a drink with her and not want to get into her knickers, because I should have been enough for you.”
“I swear you are. I didn’t do this. I wouldn’t.”
Luke couldn’t believe the pain that he was feeling, his chest hurt with the pressure of grief. They’d only been together a short time, but he loved her like he’d never loved anyone or anything before. He couldn’t be without her, even after just a few weeks, he knew that she was the one.
“I don’t care what you say,” Martha said, regaining her composure. “I want you out of here.”
When he saw the steely coldness in her eyes, bile started to rise in Luke’s throat.” “Please babe, no. I love you, I can’t be without you.” He reached out his hand and folded it around Martha’s.
“Get off me, and take that with you.” Martha pointed at the photograph that was back on the floor.
Luke dropped her hand and let out a shuddering breath.
“I can’t deny that they make things look bad, but you have to believe me.”
Martha shook her head as tears fell down her cheeks and dripped from her chin.
“You’re a tosser and a spineless shit who has no idea how to commit or be faithful.” Martha almost spat the words at him, pure venom in her eyes. “I’ll give you a month’s notice, so you’ll need to find a new housekeeper, but I’d be grateful if you could keep out of my way until then.”
“Martha you don’t need to do that.” Luke was almost doubled up with the pain and distress, he couldn’t let this happen. She had to believe him. “Please Martha, is there nothing I can say?” Luke sighed and stared down at the photograph that was crumpled under his foot.
“No, just go and remember I loved you with all my heart, and would have loved you for the rest of your life, better than anyone ever had or ever would, but you ruined everything.” Martha took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Now if you don’t mind, I’d like you to leave.”
As Luke quietly pulled the door shut behind him, Martha sank to the floor, and as the grief and pain overcame her she wept for the love that she had lost.
Chapter 27
When Martha woke her eyes felt as though she’d just woken up from a face lift. She touched them gingerly and felt the puffiness around them – they felt like tiny slits in her skin, but that’s what four days of crying did to you.
Betty had stayed home to study, never leaving her side, but Martha had sent her back to college. She also insisted that Betty go and see Noah as it wasn’t his fault that his uncle was a waste of oxygen. Betty had argued saying that she couldn’t stand the sight of Luke at the moment, so Martha had insisted that she invite Noah down to the cottage. Lucia had been around the day after the newspaper story, apologising profusely for Luke, but also trying to fight his corner, saying that he loved Martha and would never be disloyal to her, especially with Rachel, but Martha had seen the evidence and wouldn’t be moved.
After a couple of days, Stacey had phoned and told her that Luke was staying with them for a while, so wasn’t up at the house for Betty or Martha to try and avoid.
“It wasn’t my idea, Martha,” Stacey explained when she called Martha. “So please don’t think I’m taking sides, but he’s Skins’ best friend and he wants to keep an eye on him.”
“Stace, please don’t worry about it, I totally understand. You’ve known Luke for years, and we’ve only been friends for a couple of months.” Martha took in a deep breath. “How is he?”
“Suffering, and still adamant that he’s done nothing wrong. And it doesn’t matter that we haven’t known each other long, we’ve become friends and I care about you. Apparently, he hadn’t been sober for two days, which is why Skins brought him here. Neil went to see Luke, but he refused to come out of his room.” Stacey sighed. “According to Lucia, after Neil finally left, he came downstairs grabbed three bottles of spirits and then disappeared again. She eventually called Skins because she didn’t know what else to do with him.”
“I’m sorry you’ve got to deal with this, you don’t need it while you’re pregnant.” Martha felt tears well in her eyes again. She couldn’t seem to go a few minutes without crying.
“It’s fine sweetheart.” Stacey gave a deep sigh. “What’ve you done with the pictures, please don’t torture yourself with them?”
“Luke took them,” Martha replied with a steely tone that belied her state of mind. “I don’t want or need to look at them.”
“Okay, that’s good, but please call me if you need anything, anything at all.”
Martha had promised she would, but she really had no intention, she just wanted to be alone, wallowing in her own misery.
Martha hauled herself out of bed and put her dressing gown on over her pyjamas. She made her way downstairs, hunger had finally arrived after four days of surviving on water and chocolate. She dragged her feet into the kitchen and pulled open the fridge door and stared at the few things that Betty had bought for her yesterday. Reaching for the eggs and cheese, she decided to make an omelette. Martha suddenly burst into tears. Without taking anything, she shut the door and sank to the floor, her back against the cold metal of the fridge. Memories flooded into her vision of the day Luke made omelettes for them, the day that they’d first mentioned the word ‘love’ to each other. It had been one of the happiest days of her life, he’d loved her passionately all afternoon and then cooked for her.
“This is too bloody hard,” she cried to herself, dropping her head to her knees and gently rocking in time to her sobs.
“What the hell are you listening to?” Skins asked as he turned down the music blaring through the speakers in his den.
“She’s Like The Wind – it’s from Dirty Dancing.” Luke stared straight ahead as he flicked through the music on his iPad.
“What the fu…seriously Luke, you have really lost it.” Skins couldn’t help but laugh.
This had been Luke’s routine in the last three days that he’d spent at the farm. He’d get up, dress, without showering, and slope down to Skins’ den and play love songs all day, until Skins finally managed to haul him upstairs for dinner where he would push his food around the plate, without actually eating anything.
“It reminds me of her, if you listen to the words it could be written for her.” Luke hit play and the Elvis Costello version of ‘She’ came on.
“Seriously Luke, you need to snap out of this. You won’t get her back by hiding down here every day.”
“Skins is right.” Neil suddenly appeared in the doorway.
Luke looked up briefly. “Oh you called the fucking cavalry did you?”
“He’s worried about you, we all are.” Neil sat down next to Luke and pulled the iPad from his hands. “This has to stop. You messed this band up once before, admittedly it wasn’t your fault necessarily, but I won’t allow you to mess it up again. You fucked up, so suck it up and get on with it.”
Neil Cornelius was seen to be the best in the business and was a huge factor in Dirty Riches’ success. He was a small, grey haired man, who was slightly over tanned and wore too much jewellery much to the band’s hilarity, but he was tenacious about making them successful and had always treat
ed them as the sons that he’d never had but always stood his corner when he thought that he was right.
Luke stared at Neil with narrowed eyes. “Listen to me again – I. Didn’t. Do. Anything.”
“So you say, but if you want any chance of winning her back, then this isn’t the way to do it.” Neil stared back at Luke grim faced.
“She’s like the rest of you, she thinks I did it, so there’s jack shit chance that she’ll take me back. So please just leave me alone to be miserable.” Luke snatched the iPad back from Neil.
Skins leaned forward and took it from Luke’s hands. “No more crappy love songs. I can’t take anymore. Now, listen to Neil and pull yourself together. If you’re right and she won’t take you back, moping down here isn’t going to help.”
“Skins is right, you need to move on. Maybe we should think about getting the band started sooner than originally planned,” Neil said, looking to Skins for affirmation. “Plus you’ve got that wedding to play. Not my ideal start for you, but it’ll do.”
Luke shook his head and rubbed his hand up and down the middle of his chest. “I can’t even think about the band at the moment,” he replied. “My heart aches for her, I can’t function without her, so how the hell do you think I’ll be able to perform to an audience.”
“Because if you don’t you’ll rot in your own self-pity.” Neil stood in front of Luke, stretching his five feet six frame.
“Have you had any luck finding out who took the pictures?” Skins asked. “We don’t want them getting into the press, not only for Martha’s sake, but if we do bring the comeback forward that’s the last sort of publicity we want.”
“No, I can’t find anything out,” Neil replied. “I think I’d have heard by now. If I didn’t know better then I’d say it was Rachel’s doing, but even if she did her plan didn’t work. He hasn’t gone running to her.”
“I bet it was her,” Skins said thoughtfully. “Luke told me that she tried to jump his bones in Italy, while Martha was in the same bed, so this would be right up her street.”