by Susan Lewis
‘Do you really think so?’
‘Of course,’ Jessica replied, tucking a strand of hair behind Nikki’s ear.
‘But anyway,’ Nikki went on, ‘Melissa’s probably going to fire me after what I said to her.’
Though Jessica grimaced, she couldn’t help relishing Melissa’s discomfort at being confronted by Charlie’s daughter, only seconds after his wife. But then she recalled Melissa’s nudity and felt the sickening burn of betrayal again. She so desperately wanted to believe what Charlie had said, that he hadn’t known Melissa was there, but the woman had been naked, for God’s sake, and for all he’d been wearing he might as well have been too – and she could only conclude that they’d been so urgent for one another they hadn’t even noticed the door wasn’t locked.
‘I keep thinking of how he’s stopped even trying with me,’ she said to Lilian much later in the day, after Nikki had taken Harry off, and Lilian had finally managed to call back. ‘I never dreamt it might be because he was having an affair. It never even entered my head.’
Concern resonated in Lilian’s voice as she said, ‘I must admit I feel as shocked as you do. Have you any idea how long it’s been going on?’
Jessica’s heart turned over. ‘Not yet,’ she answered, and found herself almost choking on the thought of it happening all through these past few months, possibly even longer.
‘I’m sure it’s not serious,’ Lilian told her softly, as though reading her mind. ‘And you never know, he might have been telling the truth today . . .’
‘You mean that it wasn’t what it seemed? You can’t imagine how much I want to believe that, but honestly, Lily, how can you not know there’s a naked woman in your room? It’s farcical even to think it.’
‘Maybe,’ Lilian replied. ‘But stranger things . . . What time’s he due home?’
‘Any minute now. He’s on a shorter shift today, because he’s filming early tomorrow.’
‘Do you have any idea yet what you’re going to say?’
‘Not really.’
Lilian sighed. ‘I suppose he’s the one who has to do the talking,’ she said.
As she thought of it, Jessica closed her eyes. ‘I hardly know what’s happening to us,’ she said. ‘As difficult as things have been lately, the way we haven’t always found it easy to talk, as well as the physical thing, I’ve never doubted him, or thought he was lying . . . All our married life I’ve always trusted him completely. But now . . . It’s as though everything’s slipping away.’
‘I know it must seem that way,’ Lilian responded soothingly, ‘but you’re still in shock. It’s going to be fine. I promise you. I just wish I could be there with you.’
‘So do I,’ Jessica said, though she wasn’t entirely sure she meant it, for all she really wanted right now was to be on her own in a place where no-one could find her. Yet even as she thought it she felt a panic welling inside her.
‘You never know, this might end up bringing you closer together,’ Lilian said, in a voice that didn’t hold much conviction.
Jessica tried to answer, but couldn’t. Then her head came up as the front door slammed in the hall, and she felt such a cruel twist of nerves that her words were faint as she said, ‘He’s just come in. I’ll try to call you tomorrow.’
After putting the phone down she used her hands to wipe her eyes, then tore a sheet from the kitchen roll to blow her nose. She knew how ravaged her face must look, but there was nothing she could do about it now, nor would she try. She could hear him moving about upstairs and then her heart filled with dread as he started to come down. What was going to happen now? Where was this going to lead them? Suddenly she felt the need for his arms, to know that nothing was going to change, even though deep down inside she knew it already had, and then she was aware of the same desperate helplessness she’d experienced after Natalie died, when she’d tried to fight the horror of never being able to go back.
As he came into the kitchen his anguish was so plain and his remorse so deep that he barely needed any words. Though she might want to tell him it was all right, that they could forget all about it now, it would be foolish even to try, when it was far too big to be swept away as though it didn’t matter. ‘Where are the children?’ he asked hoarsely.
‘Nikki took Harry for a pizza. They’ll be back later.’
Sighing, he pushed a hand through his hair. ‘Is Nikki OK?’ he said shakily.
‘She’s very upset.’
He nodded. ‘I’ll talk to her.’ His eyes came to hers.
She waited, aware of how hard her heart was beating.
‘I know how it must have looked today,’ he began, ‘but I swear . . .’
‘Just tell me this,’ she said, ‘is your affair the reason you’re not making love to me?’
For a moment he seemed shocked by the question. Then in a voice that rang with truth, he said, ‘There isn’t an affair. What you saw today . . .’
‘Then why did she turn me down for a job?’
‘Whatever the reason, it had nothing to do with an affair, because we aren’t having one.’
‘Yet she was comfortable enough to come into your dressing room and strip off all her clothes, and we both know if I were around the studios she wouldn’t be able to do that.’
His eyes were dark with despair as he said, ‘Jessica, you have to believe me – nothing is going on between me and Melissa. You know what a problem I’m having . . .’
‘But maybe not with her. Maybe it’s just with me.’
‘You can’t seriously think that. You mean everything to me . . .’
‘She hasn’t just lost a daughter. She won’t remind you of your pain, so I can see she might provide you with an escape, the kind of release you need that you can’t find with me.’
‘It’s not happening,’ he told her forcefully. ‘There is no affair. I admit I asked her to come to my dressing room today, but not for that – and I had no idea she was even in there until she came out of the shower. I know how hard that must be to believe, but I swear to God it’s the truth.’
Jessica looked away, not knowing if it was fear that was making her want to deny her instincts, or whether it was simply that her instincts were all wrong.
‘Would you like a drink?’ he offered. ‘I think we both need one.’
She nodded, then turned her mobile off as it started to ring. Nikki knew she was at home so she could use the landline, and there was no-one else she wanted to speak to tonight.
After handing her a vodka tonic he watched her take a sip, then when her eyes returned to his he said, ‘The last thing in the world I ever want is to hurt you, and yet here I am, letting you down in ways I never even dreamt of. It’s as though something crazy has come into our lives, or into mine . . .’
‘Just tell me this,’ she said quietly, ‘even if it didn’t happen today, either because I interrupted you, or because you’re telling the truth . . .’ She took a breath. ‘I need to know, Charlie, have you ever had sex with Melissa Kingsley?’
He was about to deny it, but with her eyes fixed so intently on his, and the guilt so heavy in his heart, he knew his tone was going to lend the lie to his words. So in the end he said, ‘It was a long time ago.’
Her mind started to reel as she stared back at him. Only now did she realise that it wasn’t at all the answer she’d been expecting. ‘How long ago?’ she asked.
‘At least six years. But it was never serious. It only happened a handful of times . . .’
She continued to stare at him as the shock went on rippling through her. ‘But we were happy then,’ she said. ‘We were sleeping together regularly, so how could you have been having sex with her?’
Finally realising his mistake in not lying, his face turned grey. ‘I don’t know,’ he answered lamely. ‘It just happened.’
She took a breath, started to turn away, then turned back again. ‘Is she the only woman you’ve been unfaithful with,’ she asked, ‘or have there been others?’
‘She’s the only one.’
She regarded him as though he were becoming a stranger. ‘Do you know what’s really frightening me now?’ she said. ‘It’s that I don’t know if I believe you.’
‘You have to, Jessica, please. No-one’s ever mattered to me more than you . . .’
‘But if you can hide something like that, it makes me wonder what else you might be hiding.’
At that his face became more haggard than ever.
As she registered the change she felt suddenly sick with the dread of what she might have just stumbled into. ‘There is more, isn’t there?’ she said.
‘No. I told you, she’s the only one and it was a long time ago.’
She started to shake her head. ‘I don’t believe you. Something else is going on with you . . .’
‘There’s nothing,’ he cried. ‘For heaven’s sake, you’re making much more of this than you need to . . .’
‘No Charlie, I’m making of it exactly what it deserves, because you’re lying about something and that’s what you say to everything I do, right down to knowing that my own daughter was afraid the day she died. I’m making too much of it, you keep telling me. It’s all in my head. Let it go, move on. Well, it’s not going to happen. Do you hear me? I’m not letting it go, any more than I’m going to stomach your affair with Melissa.’
‘How many times do I have to tell you . . .’
‘I believe that’s the children coming back,’ she cut in, ‘so I suggest you startpreparing how you’re going to explain yourself to Nikki, while I go and put Harry to bed.’
As she reached the bottom of the stairs he said, ‘Jessica, what did you mean about not letting it go? What are you intending to do?’
‘About Natalie?’ she said, turning back. ‘I don’t know yet, but when I do, you can be sure I won’t let you do anything to stop me,’ and leaving him feeling heartsick with apprehension for what it could cost her if she ever found out the truth, she ran up the stairs to the children.
The following morning Jessica heard Charlie get up at five thirty and go downstairs. She was in one of the guest rooms, not because they’d fought again last night, but because she’d simply wanted to be left alone to try to think things through and decide where she should go from here.
She’d been awake most of the night, going over and over everything in her mind, trying not to torment herself with how many other women Charlie might have slept with, or what further lies he might have told, until finally she’d realised that this one betrayal, with its deceit stretching over at least six years, was enough on its own to tear her trust from the roots of their marriage. Whether they would be able to repair the damage was impossible to say, though she knew that at some stage she would want to try. For the time being, though, she merely felt the need to put some distance between them so she could think more clearly about everything they were going through, and what was really happening in her heart. As the hours had ticked on through the night her longing for Natalie had been growing all the time. In the face of this loss nothing else seemed to matter, nor could it until she found out the truth of what had really happened that day in France. She wasn’t going to run away from it any more, instead she was going to do what she’d always wanted to do, and hadn’t only because of Charlie’s reluctance to accept her suspicions. It was a strange and sad irony that it should be his betrayal that was setting her free to follow her instincts now.
Hearing a muffled knock on the door, she turned onto her back and called for him to come in.
‘Did I wake you?’ he said, putting his head round.
‘No,’ she answered, sitting up against the pillows. ‘How did you sleep?’
‘Not too well.’ He put a coffee on the nightstand and looked down at her. He was pale and drawn and his eyes showed how anxious he was. ‘How about you?’ he asked.
‘Not much,’ she replied, and patted the bed for him to sit down. ‘Do you have time?’
‘A few minutes. What are you going to do today?’
‘Everything I’d planned to: take Harry to school, go to Tate Modern to see what books they have on Modigliani, pick up your dry-cleaning . . .’
‘Do I take it from that Karina is interested in the biography?’ he interrupted.
Almost wishing he hadn’t asked, she said, ‘That’s what I was coming to tell you, yesterday. I was going to call, but then remembering you weren’t due on air for a while, I decided to come over to the studios.’
Looking as tortured by the memory of what she’d walked into as he no doubt felt, he picked up her coffee and handed it to her. ‘I really am sorry,’ he said gruffly as she took it. ‘I want you to believe that.’
‘I do.’
He gazed helplessly into her eyes. ‘Please tell me it’s not too late,’ he whispered brokenly.
Because she loved him she reached for his hand and held it tight. ‘It’s too hard to tell you anything right now,’ she said. ‘All I know is that I want to be on my own for a while, to think about us, and to find out if I’m right about Natalie. No, listen, please,’ she said, as he started to interrupt. ‘I’m going to call Lilian today to ask if I can go and stay in the grape-picker’s cottage. I know you don’t want me to, but this is something I feel I have to do, so please don’t let’s argue. I’ll leave right after Harry goes to Devon and stay until he comes back.’
Nothing about his expression showed a willingness to agree. ‘I just don’t understand what you think you’re going to find,’ he protested.
‘I don’t either,’ she admitted. ‘Nor will I until I go there.’
‘Then let me come with you. I’ll get some time off . . .’
‘No. I told you, I want to be on my own. I need time to think about what we’re going to do, how we go forward from here.’
As his eyes widened with concern she wondered if he’d ever looked more like Harry, and for that alone she couldn’t help wanting to fold him in her arms. ‘After all these years,’ he said, ‘with everything we’ve meant to one another . . . I know what I did was wrong, that it’s hurt you deeply, but it was so long ago . . . Surely we can get past it?’
‘I hope so,’ she answered.
Looking down at their hands, he rolled his thumb over her wedding ring as he said, ‘Will you be here when I get home tonight?’
‘Of course. I told you, I won’t leave until Harry goes to Devon – and only then if the cottage is free.’
His eyes came back to hers. ‘You have to understand that any lies I’ve told, anything I’ve kept hidden from you, it’s only to protect you . . .’
‘It’s also deceiving me,’ she reminded him, ‘but now isn’t the time to get into it. You need to go, or you’ll be late.’
After pressinghis lips to her forehead, he left the room, closing the door quietly behind him, and a few minutes later she heard the sound of his car reversing out of the drive. In her mind she travelled with him to the end of the street, out onto Ladbroke Grove, and was almost able to feel the heaviness in his heart. But then she let him go and returned to her decision to go to France, and what she really hoped to achieve there. The obvious answer was to prove that her mother had been lying, though she knew already how difficult that was going to be unless she could persuade her mother to go with her – and even then there were no guarantees of getting her to change her story. So for now, at least, she was happy to go alone.
It wasn’t until late morning that she finally got around to calling Lilian, and as usual she had to leave a message, since Lilian was in the saleroom and not due out until one. A while later Charlie called, just to make sure she was all right, and no sooner had she put the phone down to him than it rang again.
‘Jessica, it’s Melissa.’
Jessica could only wonder why she hadn’t expected this.
‘I don’t think either of us wants to get into a discussion about yesterday,’ Melissa said, ‘I’m just calling to ask if it’s going to remain between us.’
Realising she was a
sking if Jessica had any intention of telling Paul, Jessica said, ‘It’s not something I anticipate coming up in conversation, but tell me, does your husband know about the affair you had with mine six years ago?’
Melissa took a moment to respond. ‘No, he doesn’t,’ she replied evenly, ‘but clearly you do.’
‘Clearly. One more question, are you and Charlie having an affair now, or am I being painfully naive in asking, considering your state of undress when I walked in on you yesterday?’
‘I was there at Charlie’s invitation.’
‘That’s not really answering my question.’
‘OK. Then let’s just say I might have got my wires crossed.’
Willing to take that as a possibility Charlie might have been telling the truth, Jessica said, ‘I’d appreciate it if, the next time you go into his dressing room, or anywhere else you might be alone with him, you’d endeavour to keep your clothes on.’
‘Well, I guess I deserved that,’ Melissa replied crisply. ‘I’d like to say I hope this doesn’t affect our friendship, but . . .’
‘. . . it will,’ Jessica finished for her.
When the call was over she decided to put it out of her mind by taking herself off to Tate Modern for a while. Once there she browsed through the bookshop searching out useful publications on Modigliani and his even more famous peers, before going upstairs to stroll around an uplifting exhibition of Pierre Huyghe’s works. On the way home she made a stop at the London Library, where she spent some time photocopying and making notes about the great artist and early twentieth-century Paris, for if she did go to France, it could provide the perfect opportunity to make a start on her book, and even if she didn’t, she still needed to gather as much research material as she could find.
‘Hi, Jessica? Are you there?’ Lilian’s voice was coming from the answerphone as Jessica walked back in through the door.
‘Yes, I’m here,’ Jessica said, grabbing the phone.
‘What’s been happening?’ Lilian asked. ‘Did you and Charlie manage to talk last night?’
‘Yes, we did. I can’t say we’ve resolved anything particularly, but it’s why I called you. I’ve decided I’d like to go back to the cottage – if it’s free. Harry goes away with a friend at the end of next week . . .’