‘What was going on when I got here?’
‘Nothing,’ Isla said, too lightly. Realizing she couldn’t fool Sav, she gave a small shrug. ‘We had words.’
‘What sort of words?’
‘I don’t know,’ Isla admitted. ‘It wasn’t so much what was said, more the way it wasn’t said, if that makes any sense.’
‘Not much,’ Sav replied, ‘but given you’ve had the best part of a bottle of champagne I’ll forgive you.’
‘I’ve had half a glass,’ Isla corrected, shaking her head as Sav went to top her up. ‘I’m not really in the mood to drink.’
‘Watch him, Isla.’ Sav’s voice had a low note of urgency as he replaced the bottle on the table. ‘He doesn’t like you.’
‘Why?’ Isla blinked. ‘What have I ever done to him?’
‘Nothing. It’s dislike by association, I’m afraid. I have the two things Heath wanted most.’
‘Two things?’ Isla frowned. ‘I know he wanted the consultant’s position, but what’s the other thing?’
‘A happy marriage.’ He watched as her frown stayed, his hand moving over hers and tightening. She could feel the warmth of his skin on hers and, most terrifying of all, given where they were, feel the sharp sting of tears behind her eyes. ‘It’s still that, isn’t it, Isla?’
‘Not here, Sav.’ She shook her head slightly.
‘OK.’ His voice was steady and low, but she could hear the emotion behind it as he carried on talking. ‘But it will be again, Isla, I promise you that. Maybe happy wasn’t the greatest choice of words, but it is strong.’ He paused for a second before carrying on, his eyes lifting to the bar where Heath was noisily demanding a drink. ‘Watch him, Isla. I don’t like him, I don’t trust him and I don’t respect him, and the most dangerous part of it all is that he knows that.’
‘What are you going to do?’ Worried eyes met his. ‘I mean, you work together, you have to be able to—’
‘Not here.’ It was Sav rightly halting the conversation now, a work do hardly the place for an in-depth discussion. ‘Just be careful, that’s all.’
‘Heath!’ Jayne’s angry voice had them both looking over as Heath returned, knocking over a couple of glasses as he did so.
‘Sorry.’ Heath slumped in the seat opposite as Jayne attempted to mop up the mess. ‘Sorry,’ he said again. ‘It’s just I’ve been racking my brains since Thursday.’ His attention swivelled to Isla, who sat uncomfortably trying to ignore him. ‘Over and over I’ve been trying to place where I knew you from and finally I’ve got it.’
‘Got what?’ Sav’s voice was icy, his disapproval evident as he eyed his drunken colleague.
‘Where I know her from,’ Heath slurred. ‘Well, not know her exactly, but where I’ve seen her. The solicitor’s office—Jensen and Webster’s, the “happy family” law specialists.’
Isla felt her stomach turn to liquid, the room that had been pleasantly warm stifling now as beads of sweat formed on her forehead, icy rivers of sweat trickling between her breasts, watching as Sav’s hand tightened around his fork, his eyes narrowing for a second as Heath relentlessly continued.
‘On Wednesday, you were behind me at the receptionist’s desk. It was you, wasn’t it? Tell me, Isla, what would a happily married woman like you be doing at a solicitor’s that specializes in family law?’
She didn’t answer, just sat there as the table fell silent. She stared at the mountain of food on her plate and suddenly felt sick.
‘They also deal with wills.’ Sav’s voice was so nonchalant, so laid-back that for an impossible second Isla almost believed what she was hearing. ‘We’ve recently updated our wills, Heath—not, of course, that it’s any of your business.’
‘Of course not,’ Heath flustered, ‘I was just saying…’
‘Given our circumstances,’ Sav snapped, his voice not quite so nonchalant now, ‘it’s hardly the most cheerful of subjects for a night out, so perhaps we’ll leave it there, huh?’
‘Of course,’ Heath mumbled, his ruddy alcohol-induced flush darkening as the entire table eyed him coolly, a few sympathetic glances being cast in Isla’s direction. She neither wanted nor deserved them, but they didn’t know that.
Only two people present knew she hadn’t been there to amend her will.
Sav and herself.
She could only admire him as he waded through the meal and then finally, thankfully sipped on his dark sweet coffee, then signed the bill with a flourish, cracking a joke or two as he carefully deducted the champagne and dips and added them to his portion before dividing up the rest.
And Isla played her part, too.
She kissed a few cheeks, laughed at some corny jokes, even held Sav’s hand as they said farewell to the rowdy table and stepped out into the cool night air outside. She stared for a trembling moment at the shimmering waterways that surrounded them, shivering as Sav jangled his keys in his pocket and, undoubtedly for the effect of the gathered crowd in the window behind them, placed a casual arm around her shoulders as he guided her to the car park. But she could feel the tension in his touch. His fingers barely touched her but seemed to bite into her flesh as on they walked, his breath hard and ragged as they walked the agonizing distance.
‘Sav!’ she started when finally they were round the corner, stopping in her tracks and pulling on his arm. ‘Sav, please, if you’ll just let me—’
‘Shut up.’ It was hardly big league and given the circumstances utterly and completely merited, but such was the snarl with which the two words were delivered, Isla stepped back as if she’d been hit, choking back a sob as Sav picked up her hand and practically marched her to the car. Her heels echoed around the multi-storey car park and she vaguely registered a couple embracing beside the lift, the world rolling ever on as hers fell apart.
‘Get in.’ There was nothing gentlemanly about the way he held the door open and Isla sat holding her breath as Sav walked around to the driver’s side, slamming the door and pulling on his seat belt.
‘We have two children.’ His fingers gripped the steering-wheel, tension in every muscle as he dragged in a long steadying breath, his eyes staring fixedly ahead as he spoke. ‘I owe it to them to drive safely.’
Teeth chattering, she nodded, screwing her eyes closed as Sav continued.
‘But when we get home, Isla, we’ll have that talk you’ve been after for so long.’
For the first time since Heath had dropped his bombshell his black eyes actually managed to meet hers.
‘Believe me, Isla, we’ll talk.’
‘Well?’ His voice was as loud as the front door that slammed behind them, and Isla felt relieved that the twins were at her parents’, that they could say what needed to be said without fear of waking them.
And so much needed to be said.
‘I did go to see a solicitor,’ she started nervously, following Sav through to the living room, wishing he would just sit down, that they could both sit down and talk this through, but knowing it was a wasted wish. Sav, tall and proud and defensive, paced the room like a trapped animal, his face jerking towards her every now and then, his eyes demanding answers.
‘I know that, Isla, the whole of bloody Emergency knows that. The question is, what were you doing there?’
A dry tongue ran over even drier lips. She mentally berated Heath over and over for his part in this, for forcing out a truth that she’d sworn to keep inside, yet knowing deep down that she only had herself to blame.
‘I went to see about a divorce.’
‘A divorce?’ Sav’s voice was amazingly calm. His pacing halted for a moment, his expression bordering on reasonable as he faced her. ‘Why do you want a divorce?’
‘I don’t.’ Her throat felt as if it were full of sand, every sense on high alert as her mind struggled with how to play this, knowing that every word she uttered mattered.
‘Then what the hell were you doing at a solicitor’s?’
‘I thought that was what I wanted, Sav.
When I first went to see Karin I couldn’t see any way out…’
‘First?’ He pounced on the word as Isla mentally kicked herself. ‘It wasn’t the first time?’
‘No.’ Her legs were trembling violently now and out of necessity she sat down, her eyes pleading with him to follow her, but still he stood, watching as she ran a shaky hand through her hair then over her eyes.
‘When I went the first time, I was desperate. I’d tried to talk to you, tried to tell you how I was feeling, and we’d had a massive row. The twins had been crying because you wouldn’t talk about Casey—’
‘Leave them out of this,’ Sav snapped. ‘This is about you and me, Isla. Don’t try to hang this on them.’
‘I’m not,’ Isla said, her voice more forceful now. ‘But, like it or not, Sav, this does affect them. I couldn’t deal with it, I couldn’t see any other way, but when I went back, when it actually came down to it, I knew I couldn’t go through with it, knew that it wasn’t what I wanted.’
The longest silence followed, broken only by his breathing, her own pulse hammering in her temples as she awaited the next inevitable onslaught.
‘Why did you go back to work?’ He stared at her coolly as Isla struggled to answer.
‘So I could support myself.’
‘Did you think that I wouldn’t?’
‘I knew you would.’ Tear-filled eyes looked up at him. ‘But I didn’t want to be a burden.’
‘Save the tears, Isla,’ he said nastily. ‘So all the little speeches you gave about being bored during the day, about needing more to fill your time, were just rubbish?’
‘No.’ She gave a helpless shrug. ‘Maybe at first, but as soon as I was back at work I knew it was the right thing to do, that it was what I needed after all. What we both needed, Sav. Since I’ve been back at work things have been better between us.’
‘You’ve only been back two days,’ Sav pointed out, but Isla shook her head.
‘It has been better,’ she insisted.
‘I don’t get it.’
His coolness was unnerving her. She’d expected an explosion, for that Latin temper to blister through the house, like hot molten lava destroying everything in its wake, to be ripped apart by his savage tongue. But instead, though clearly angry, Sav was amazingly calm and controlled, firing questions relentlessly, cross-examining her over and over, never missing a beat, as she sat there shivering in her own misery. ‘Why, when you’re planning to divorce me, would you even think about taking a job in my department? For crying out loud, as if three shifts are going to support you and the children. What sort of solicitor would tell you to go back to work?’
‘She told me not to,’ Isla responded, choking back tears, wishing fervently that she’d had a drink after all so that she could face this onslaught with some numbness. But there was no anaesthetic that could save her from the cold hard truth and Isla had to face it. ‘She told me that the very last thing I should do was go back to work.’
‘So why did you?’ Sav pushed, completely unmoved by her obvious emotion. ‘Are you going to try and sit there and tell me that you were worried about me, that it was so you could keep an eye on me?’
‘No.’
‘So that we could stay close for the sake of the children?’
‘No.’
‘Because, Isla, you can forget amicable, you can forget nice…’ Suddenly she was reminded of Karin’s words, could feel herself being dragged back into the circle of hatred she’d witnessed in the office, the one she’d forcibly pulled herself back from. ‘If you take my kids away from me, if you rip apart my family by walking away, the last thing I’ll be is nice. The last thing I’ll be is one of those people who puts on a nice front for the sake of the kids, one of those—’
‘Sav, please…’ Isla begged, hating this glimpse of a future she didn’t want.
‘Why, Isla?’ he barked. ‘Why the hell did you take this job?’
‘Because it was the only one that would give me the shifts I wanted. I thought that once I had some more experience, I’d go to the new hospital once it opened. This was supposed to be a stopgap…’
‘So you were using them? They’re desperate for staff, they’ve bent over backwards to accommodate you, and all the time you were intending to walk away.’
‘It wasn’t like that,’ Isla said, but Sav wasn’t listening.
‘So you were lying to them the same way you’ve been lying to me all this time! My God, Isla, I don’t even know you. I’m standing here looking at you and I don’t even recognize you!’
She waited, waited for the next round, bracing herself for the firing of more questions, but nothing, nothing prepared her for what came next. Nothing prepared her for the pounding of his feet on the stairs, the horrible sight, as she burst into the bedroom, of him angrily filling a case.
‘Sav, don’t,’ she begged. ‘We need—’
‘To talk?’ This time he did shout, this time anger laced every word. ‘Talk to me through your solicitor.’
‘Sav, I don’t want a divorce. I don’t want it be over.’ Her hands pulled at the garments, pulling out socks and T-shirts as he threw them in. But he brushed her hands away, slammed the lid of the case closed without even looking at her. ‘When I saw Karin I was confused. I just wanted, wished—’
‘You should be more careful what you wish for, Isla.’ Lifting the case, he walked smartly to the door.
‘Sav, please, don’t go. Not like this…’
‘What do you care?’ Appalled, he stared at her, shaking his head as if he didn’t know her.
‘I care because I love you.’
‘Not good enough.’ Again he shook his head and it was Isla’s turn to be angry. Yes, she’d been wrong, but not entirely without reason. Her mind spun back to the silence he had induced, the long lonely tension-filled nights, the wobble in Luke’s normally sunny voice when he spoke about his father.
‘You did this, too, Sav.’ She stared defiantly back at him. ‘You shut me out for so long I didn’t know where to turn. We can’t even say Casey’s name in this house any more.’
‘You’re being ridiculous.’
‘I’m telling the truth. Since the day he died you haven’t ever spoken his name, and now the kids don’t either—at least, not when you’re around.’
‘Bull.’
‘Say it, then.’ She stared at him, defiant eyes filling now, her face crumpling as he stood proud and angry and utterly immovable.
‘There’s nothing to say.’ His lips barely moved. One final glare and he turned on his heel. ‘I’m going to a hotel.’
‘No.’ She lunged after him, frantic, appalled, scarcely able to believe this was really happening, trying to stall him, saying the first thing that came to her mind. ‘What if the hospital rings?’
‘Tell them.’ He glowered. ‘They’re going to find out soon enough!’
‘And the kids?’ Isla begged. ‘What do I tell them?’
‘Whatever you’ve been planning,’ Sav shouted, but it changed midway into an almost strangled plea. ‘We made love yesterday, Isla, we made love, and all the while you were planning—’
‘I wasn’t!’
‘How the hell am I supposed to ever trust you? We made love!’ he reiterated, anger, hurt and confusion in every word.
Isla truly didn’t know how to respond, but it didn’t matter because Sav had plenty to say. Sav shouting out the final words as he stormed down the stairs and wrenched open the front door. ‘You started this.
‘And I’m finishing it!’
If the row had been hell, hearing the door slam, the angry skid of Sav driving off, her sobs filling the empty house inflicted a pain that was indescribable. Backed into a corner, he’d come out fighting, that fierce Mediterranean pride taking over as Isla had known it would.
And like a shock victim, Isla wandered from room to room, staring blindly at the photos that littered every surface, the faces smiling back at her—not just the children’s, but Sav’s and her
s, younger, thinner, more vibrant, mocking her over and over with their innocence. There was no refuge in the bedroom either, the marital bed out of bounds now. She paced the floor, phone in hand, fighting the urge to ring him, to beg him to see reason, yet knowing it would be futile, that nothing she could say tonight would penetrate. She couldn’t face the twins’ room, couldn’t picture their lonely faces when she told them the appalling news. Finally she fixed on the one room that should have hurt her but curiously didn’t, the one room where she could almost find peace, the peace she craved. She flicked on the nightlight and curled up on the bed like a wounded animal, staring at the teddies that smiled down at her, watching the clowns that danced on the ceiling, chasing away the nightmares and promising that things would all seem better in the morning.
CHAPTER NINE
THANK God for friends.
Thank God for the women who could banish a pile of school uniforms waiting to be ironed and children needing to bathed, nails needing to be cut and a husband waiting to be fed, and come over at a moment’s notice when they were really needed.
Mug after endless mug of coffee appeared as if by magic, as eighteen hours later the problem seemed no clearer.
‘Have you told your parents?’ Practical as ever, Louise fussed around the kitchen, piling sandwiches and fruit into the boys’ lunchboxes for the morning, then dragging out the ironing board and setting to work.
‘I couldn’t.’ Isla gave a helpless shrug. ‘Dad just looked so old and tired and jaded, I just couldn’t bring myself to say anything.’
‘And the twins?’ Louise lowered her voice needlessly. The boys were tucked up in bed, happily oblivious to the appalling events that had taken place.
‘No.’ Taking a sip of coffee, Isla was jerked out of her introspection for a second. ‘What’s in this?’
‘Chocolate,’ Louise said crisply. ‘You need it.’
Did she ever!
‘We need to do that together. Once Sav calms 118 down, he’ll do what’s right. I’m not going to tell them just yet.’
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