Her eyes fixed on them, Lucie saw Anna put a hand on Seton's face and then stroke his neck. That, she thought indignantly, was taking sympathy a bit far. And Seton wasn't being exactly discouraging either. IB fact he was smiling down at Anna, his eyes gazing into hers as he concentrated on something she was saying to him. It was a large garden with lots of apple and pear trees—old trees with thick trunks and low-hanging branches that were heavy with leaves and created dark blocks of shadow in the night. The couple danced away from the main group of people, down among the trees, disappeared behind them.
Lucie waited for them to appear again, to come back into the light thrown by the Chinese lanterns strung across the patio. She waited for ten agonisingly long minutes but still they didn't appear. Getting to her feet, Lucie slipped round the edge of the garden, keeping to the shadows, heedlessly walking over a flower-bed until she came to the trees. Anna was wearing white jeans and a red and white blouse so would be easy to spot, but it took Lucie several minutes before she came across them.
She rounded a tree trunk and came to an abrupt stop. The garden backed onto an open field with a waist-high paddock fence of wooden poles separating the two. Seton and Anna were leaning against the fence, their profiles black against the gold of the setting sun. But they weren't looking at the sunset, they were turned to face each other. As Lucie watched in stunned dismay, she saw Anna put her arms round Seton's neck and lean forward to kiss him. Lucie waited for her husband to push her best friend away, and Seton did reach up to grip Anna's arms, but instead of pushing her away he seemed to be holding her there because the kiss went on. Unable to bear it, Lucie turned and ran back towards the house, blundering blindly into tree branches, hardly feeling one whip her bare arm. Her heart was filled with the most terrible despair, but from somewhere die found the sense to slow down as she reached the part of the garden where the others were still dancing.
Seton's jacket was hanging on the back of a chair; she took his bunch of keys from it and then went into the house to find Sam, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible. No way was she going to let anyone know that her heart felt as if it had taken the most devastating blow from which she'd never recover. Sam was sitting with the other children, their eyes glued to the television screen, and didn't want to leave. Fighting to stay in control, LUCK simply bent down and picked him up, which made him struggle because he was too big for that kind of treatment, especially in front of his friends. But Lucie strode out of the house with him, not saying goodbye to anyone because she just wasn't capable of it.
She drove too fast hi her anxiety to get away from that scene of betrayal, kept seeing the picture of them kissing in her mind, but luckily it was only a couple of miles to her own home and she got there safely. As she entered the house, as she saw all the things that she loved, that she and Seton had chosen so carefully, her wretchedness suddenly turned into a great wave of jealousy, an emotion so strong that it completely engulfed her. How dared Anna make a play for her husband? And how dared Seton let her!
Sam was put to bed with just a washed face instead of a bath, was told off when he started to whine, and was curtly informed that he wasn't having a story read to him and he'd got to go to sleep. Used to his mother being gentle, Sam became silent and just stared at her, but when Lucie firmly turned out the light and closed the door, slow tears ran down his cheeks, the sobs bitten back. Going downstairs, Lucie sat on the settee, her anger growing as yet again she waited for Seton to come home.
It was over an hour later that she heard a car draw up outside and the sound of voices wishing each other goodnight. She had his keys so Seton had to ring the doorbell. Lucie took her time in opening it, the hour she'd spent waiting having increased her anger. She unlocked it and then had to leap back out of the way as Seton sent the door crashing back on its hinges. He stood there for a moment, framed in the doorway, his face a blaze of anger, then he slammed the door shut, took hold of her arm and marched her into the sitting-room. There he rounded on her. 'What the hell is it with you?' he shouted at her. 'Did you stop to think before you sneaked out of the party and came home?'
Lucie had felt a leap of fear when she'd seen the fury in his face but by now she'd had time to remember her own anger and jealousy and it all came surging back. "Think about what? What people would say, what they would think? I don't give a damn about that,' she retorted.
'No,' Seton agreed savagely. 'Nor do you care anything about me, it would seem.'
'Why the hell should I?' She shouted the words at him, her face flaming with anger. He stared at her, for a moment taken aback. His voice suddenly changing from hot fury to cold menace, Seton said,
'And just what is that supposed to mean?'
Her hands balled into tight fists, Lucie said sneeringly, 'Oh, don't try to act the innocent, because it won't work. How long has it been going on?'
His gaze became wary. 'What are you talking about?'
'About your affair with my best friend, of course! And don't try to lie your way out of it, because I saw you together.' Her voice grew raw with pain. 'I saw you kissing her.'
Some of the tension seemed to go out of Seton as he said, 'No, Lucie, you didn't. What you saw—'
'Liar!' She yelled the word at him venomously.
His voice as chill as ice, Seton said, 'I suppose I should be pleased that you care enough about me to be jealous. The way you've been acting lately I've begun to wonder whether you still care for me at all.'
Still shaken, Lucie said, 'Of course I care about you.'
'You have a strange way of showing it.'
'And so do you,' she retorted, some of her anger returning. 'And you haven't answered my question. How long have you been having sex with my best friend?'
Her voice broke a little on the last two words and a contemptuous look came into Seton's eyes. 'Which do you care about most—that I'm being unfaithful or that you're being betrayed by Anna?'
'So it's true, then,' Lucie said hollowly, seeing her life in utter ruin. Suddenly Seton got angry again. Taking hold of her arm, he shook her. 'No, you silly little fool, it isn't true. Or not my part of it. Although, God knows, some warmth and understanding wouldn't come amiss right now! No, Lucie, I have not been unfaithful to you—not in any way, not even in my thoughts. I made a vow to love you until I die, and no matter what you do I will always keep that vow.' He moved nearer to her, his eyes, deeply intent, holding hers.
'Because you are all I want, all I ever wanted. I don't know what's happening to you, to us, but nothing will ever change the way I feel about you. Do you understand that?'
Slowly she nodded, but then her face hardened. 'So it was Anna, then?'
Seton gave an impatient exclamation and let go her arm.
'How dare she?' Recalling them together, Lucie also remembered that Seton hadn't been exactly discoraging. She gave him a hostile look. 'You didn't push her away.'
'I tried to,' Seton said shortly. 'But she's the clinging type. I let her know I wasn't interested as soon as I could without creating a scene.'
That ought to have mollified her, but it didn't; the jealousy was still there. 'I suppose you enjoyed kissing her,' Lucie said waspishly.
The look of fury that he'd worn earlier filled Seton's face again. 'No,' he snarled at her. "This is the kind of kissing I enjoy.' And, grabbing her arms, he pulled her roughly into his embrace, his mouth coming down to take hers in bruising anger, with a force that bent her backwards and made her impotent to resist. She made a sound of protest but it only made him kiss her more deeply, forcing her mouth open to let him inside. His hands were hurting her; she felt powerless and angry. Lucie tried to kick him and he gave a snarl of rage. Suddenly stooping, he put an arm under her legs and swept her off her feet.
'No!' She started to struggle, but this man who had always been so gentle with her, who, before, had always accepted her denials, just slung her over his shoulder and made for die stairs. Bunching her hands into fists, Lucie lashed out at his back, thumping him as
hard as she could. At one point he staggered a little oo the bend of the stairs, but then he recovered and strode into their bedroom, throwing her down onto the bed before he closed the door.
Lucie immediately went to get up but he was back before she was on her feet and tipped her onto the bed again. 'If you think I'm going to let you touch me after you let Anna kiss you then you're crazy! And if you think—'
'I don't give a damn what you think,' Seton spat, and, pushing her down, he came on top of her. For a while they fought, rolling on the bed, Lucie trying to kick and bite him. But Seton was so much heavier, so strong. She had never realised the power of his strength before because he had never used it against her. But now he laughed when she struggled, his hands easily holding her flailing arms, his body pinning her down. And when he put a hand hi her hair to hold still her tossing head so that he could kiss her again, God help her but a wave of excitement went through her, a flame of awareness that she had not felt for weeks. Again Lucie tried to break free, but it was only token resistance now, and when she went to bite bis tip it somehow turned into a return of his kiss and her arms, instead of hitting him, went round his neck to hold him closer. Their clothes came off anyhow, got torn in their eagerness and were tossed aside. They were not gentle with each other even then; too much had gone before for their lovemaking to be anything but wild and violent. Seton took her as a starved man who had come upon a feast—hastily, greedily satisfying his hunger. Putting her arms round him, Lucie let him carry her with him, losing herself in physical fulfilment, in the long, spiralling road of rising desire that drowned out all worries and cares, that made her forget everything but the whirling excitement, the sensuous delight that grew from deep within her until it consumed her heart and soul. Her head went back and she gave long, shuddering moans of pleasure, her body arching to hold him, her fingers digging into his shoulders. She felt his body tense as Seton reached his own climax, his breath turn into ragged gasps and his heart hammer in his chest.
Opening her eyes, Lucie, still suffused by the wonder of their lovemaking, raised a languid hand and touched his face. Seton had his head thrown back, taking deep breaths as his body slowly relaxed, and when she touched him he bent his head to look at her. She expected him to smile at her as he always did after they'd made love, to tell her how wonderful she was and how much he loved, her. But now hi& features hardened and there was no tenderness in his face.
Getting up, he went straight into the bathroom and she heard him turn on the shower. Lucie lay there, feeling rejected. Was he still angry with her for having left the party without him? She went over their quarrel in her mind, and it was only then that she remembered what he had said to her downstairs—that he had vowed to love her and he always would, that nothing would ever change that.
With appalled shame, she realised that she had hardly listened to him, that she had been so angry about him and Anna that she had been able to think of nothing else. He had been so serious, so wanting to get through to her, and she had completely ignored Urn. No wonder Seton had got so mad, and no wonder, too, that he had walked away just now.
Pondering what he'd said, Lucie belatedly saw that that time might even have been right to tell him the both, all of it, because it was becoming almost impossible to go on carrying this burden alone. Her nerves were close to breaking-point and she felt weak and ill. Really it had all been her own fault tonight. If she hadn't refused to dance with Seton in front of Anna, the other girl wouldn't have taken it into her head to— What excuse would Anna have used to describe it to herself? To comfort him?
For a moment Lucie's heart hardened again, but then she forgot all about Anna as she wondered if she could tell Seton, if she dared. But there was so much at stake, he would have to give up so much. But he still loved her, he had said so, and she needed his strength—the kind of strength he had shown tonight—so desperately. Getting into bed, Lucie leaned against the headboard, waiting for him. It might not be too late. When he came back she would try to talk to him, lead him again into that mood in which he'd vowed his love for her. And it wouldn't be too difficult, not after the pleasure they'd just shared. Her spirits began to rise as she thought of having this terrible weight taken off her shoulders, and she waited for him eagerly. She beard the bathroom door open but then Seton went downstairs to lock up and turn out the lights. He came upstairs again a few minutes later—but then she heard him go into the guest-room and firmly dose the door. He stayed there all the rest of the night. The school holidays ended and Sam started at a primary school on the outskirts of the nearest town. For it he needed a whole new uniform and sports clothes, books and equipment. It cost the earth. Seton, more like a cool stranger now, gave her a cheque towards the cost but it still left her without enough money to pay Rick the full hundred pounds that week.
Lucie was completely under his thumb again, thoroughly cowed by fear and perpetual worry, her only hope that of getting a job as soon as possible. She could only raise sixty-five pounds, so left that with a note explaining the situation, saying she'd try to make up the balance when she could.
For a few days Lucie heard nothing, although she was on tenterhooks the whole time, expecting every phone call to be Rick shouting and swearing at her, making demands she couldn't meet. When she heard nothing she began to breathe more easily, hoping that he'd seen sense, that he'd believed her. She drove to the new school to collect Sam, but found it difficult to find a parking space, eventually finding a small gap several hundred yards away that took some manoeuvring into.
Hurrying back to the school, she saw that many of the children had already come out and several of the mothers were leaving. Standing with the group of women inside the gates, Lucie looked anxiously round and saw with relief that Sam hadn't yet come out. Anna was there, waiting for Adam; she gave Lucie a troubled look and seemed about to speak, but Lucie turned her back on her, not yet having forgiven or forgotten. A crowd of children came out and were ferried away. Adam, who was in the same class as Sam, emerged clutching a drawing and went off with his mother. The number of children coming out of the school gradually dwindled but there was no sign of Sam. He was probably still chatting to the teacher, Lucie thought with a smile. He had taken to school like a duck to water and was always eager to go. She waited another ten minutes in growing unease; surely the teacher would have sent Sam out to her by now?
No more children appeared so Lucie strode up to the entrance and went inside. Sam's class was at the end of the corridor; she went to it and found his teacher, a girl not much older than herself, tidying up, but there was no sign of Sam.
The teacher smiled at Lucie. 'Can I help you? It's Mrs Wallace, isn't it?'
'Yes. Where's Sam?' Lucie asked anxiously.
'Sam? But he's gone with your husband.'
'Seton?' Lucie stared at her incredulously.
'Yes, he came a little early so that he could take Sam for his dental appointment.'
"But he hasn't got—' Lucie broke off in sudden dread. 'What did he look like?' She got hold of the teacher's arm and shook it, her voice rising hysterically. "The man who took Sam away—what did he look like?'
'Well, he was tall and dark-haired...'
'What else?' Lucie shook the poor woman again.
She frowned, then her eyes widened in triumph. 'I remember now. He had a tattoo on his wrist. An eagle or some other kind of bird. I know I thought at the time that—'
But Lucie was already gone, running out of the school and back to her car, her breath coming in agonised sobs, her heart full of terror for her child.
Her eyes more on the pavements than on the road, Lucie drove along, frantically searching the streets round the school, praying that Rick was on foot, that she would see them. What she would do if she did find them, Lucie didn't even think about; all she knew was that she had never before felt such utter terror, such mind-consuming fear.
'Please let me find him. Please don't let him be hurt.' She was babbling out prayers, tears filling her eyes but
being dashed out of the way so that she could see. The fear was like a physical pain and she couldn't think, couldn't reason, knew only that her child was gone and she must find him. But Rick had had plenty of time to take Sam away: she had waited outside too long; she should have gone in as soon as she saw that Sam wasn't waiting for her. Gripping the steering wheel, Lucie turned into another street and saw a man walking with a child. Putting her foot down, she went tearing along the road and skidded to a stop beside them, narrowly missing a parked car. Both the man and the boy turned round, startled by the scream of brakes, and she saw with sick despair that the man wasn't Rick, that the boy was older than Sam.
She drove on, cars hooting at her angrily when she veered across towards the wrong side of the road, yanked the car into a straight line again, searching, searching. There was no sign of them, but Rick might have had a car; they could be miles away by now. She had to call the police. Lucie was near home, so she sped there, tore into the driveway already starting to open the door.
Sam was sitting on the doorstep.
Lucie shot out of the car and ran to him, took him into her arms. 'Are you all right? Are you all right?' He looked a bit lost and bewildered1, but he wasn't crying so he wasn't hurt. 'Oh, Sam! Sam!' She hugged him too tightly in a relief that was almost as overwhelming as the fear had been.
'A man came to take me home from school.' He struggled to get free. 'He brought me in his car but you weren't here. He said I'd got to wait for you.' Sam looked at her accusingly. 'You were a long time.'
Suddenly anger took the place of relief as Lucie set him down and said, 'Why did you go with him? Haven't I told you that you should never go with strangers? Never! Never!'
Sam tried to bite tears back but then began to cry. 'He said he was your friend. He said you sent him. And he gave me this for you.' He searched hi his pocket and brought out a letter.
Lucie stared at it for a moment, her face very pale. She could guess the contents but she mechanically tore open the envelope, her hands hardly trembling because she had gone past that now. The note was brief. 'Next time I'll keep him. Bring the money you owe plus an extra hundred the day after tomorrow. If you don't want anything to happen to the kid, then keep quiet and pay up.'
The Guilty Wife Page 11