My Sweet Revenge

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My Sweet Revenge Page 30

by Jane Fallon


  He actually laughs. ‘You might be right. They’ll be the homewreckers. We’ll be the ones everyone feels sorry for. Brilliant.’

  ‘I hate people feeling sorry for me,’ I say. It’s true, I do. I can’t stand to be a pity object. ‘But in this case, I’ll make an exception.’

  I hang up just as the front door closes and Josh walks into the kitchen, a sheepish look on his face.

  I stand up, look right at him.

  ‘I can’t wait to hear what you’ve got to say.’

  46

  Paula

  By the time I get home Robert is sitting at the kitchen table, nursing a huge glass of red wine.

  ‘So,’ he says, without looking at me. ‘Want to explain yourself?’

  ‘Not really,’ I say. ‘It wasn’t meant to happen, we’re not having an affair.’

  ‘That’s all you’ve got to say? It wasn’t meant to happen? What? You got taken over by aliens for a few minutes and you had no idea what you were doing?’

  ‘Obviously not.’

  ‘So don’t give me that bullshit. How long has it been going on?’

  ‘Nothing is going on. I’ve kissed him twice before. Well, three times, technically speaking. That’s it. We haven’t had sex.’

  Robert gives me a look that tells me he doesn’t believe a word of it. Well, good for him. Now he’ll know how I feel.

  ‘And that makes it OK? Because you haven’t had sex, you’ve just groped each other like a pair of teenagers?’

  ‘This was the first time with the groping.’

  I can see he’s struggling to understand why I’m being so belligerent. Why I’m not begging for forgiveness.

  ‘Great. Be facetious about it.’

  ‘I’m not actually,’ I say, sitting opposite him. I reach down to take my shoes off because my feet are killing me. ‘I’m just trying to be truthful. I think everyone deserves that.’

  ‘You’re not even sorry. You’ve humiliated me in front of all my friends and colleagues …’

  ‘That, I am sorry for. Genuinely. I would never have wanted that to happen.’

  ‘How the fuck am I going to show my face at work on Monday?’

  How was Josh meant to show his face once all those friends and colleagues found out about you and Saskia, I want to say, but I don’t. Not yet.

  ‘That’s rough. I’m sorry.’

  He’s not even listening, though. ‘And what do you mean, you’ve kissed him before? Where? When?’

  I don’t want to give too much away yet but I don’t want to lie to him either so I just avoid the issue.

  ‘It’s not something I’m proud of. But it’s true when I say we’re not having an affair. We just met up a couple of times and it happened.’

  He’s fiddling with the salt cellar on the table – a china pig who we’ve had since George was little and who has long since lost his peppery friend – and I worry he’ll accidentally snap off its little tail. ‘Met up how? You didn’t even know him.’

  ‘It was a mistake. I’m not trying to justify what I’ve done, but haven’t you ever made a mistake?’

  He puffs his chest up like a toad. Assumes the moral high ground. ‘I’ve bought hundred-watt light bulbs instead of forty, if that’s what you mean. I once got off the tube at Mornington Crescent instead of Camden. Have I ever snuck around meeting up with your boss for some kind of adolescent necking session? No, funnily enough, I haven’t.’

  He’s incandescent with self-righteousness. I try to stay calm, rational. I wonder how Josh is getting on with Saskia. An image of him declaring his love for her and begging for forgiveness gatecrashes my brain. I push it away.

  ‘Not with my boss, obviously …’ I must remember to tell Myra this detail, I think. Once it’s all over. She’ll be horrified that the idea of Robert and her even entered the universe.

  ‘… but with anyone? Ever?’

  He doesn’t even flinch. ‘No, because I thought we were a family. I thought that was part of the deal. For God’s sake, how could you do this to George?’

  Really? ‘Georgia doesn’t have to hear about this.’

  ‘Let’s hope none of those arseholes thinks it’s funny to tip off the gossip pages.’

  Shit, I hadn’t even thought of that. There are always leaks to the press which can only be attributed to cast or crew. It’s entirely possible that one of the party guests will think they can earn a few quid or a few favours by tipping off the papers that Robert Westmore’s wife is having a thing with Saskia Sherbourne’s husband. I blush at the thought of it. For a second, I lose my nerve.

  ‘God, I hope not. You don’t think they will? They couldn’t print anything anyway, could they? Not without corroboration.’

  He shrugs. He’s not letting me off the hook that easily.

  ‘OK, well, let’s assume that doesn’t happen. There would be no reason for George to ever find out.’

  He looks me right in the eye. I want to look away, but I can’t quite make myself.

  ‘Let’s hope not. It would devastate her. Finding out her mother’s been running around with some other bloke … how could you?’

  OK. That’s it. I’ve had enough.

  I load my big gun.

  ‘What would be worse?’ I say. ‘In your opinion. Kissing someone a total of four times and never going any further than that, or having a full-on affair for years – I’m not sure exactly how many – but a full-on, all-out, sneaking-around relationship?’ I give him a forced and, I imagine, quite creepy smile. ‘Asking for a friend.’

  ‘What the hell are you talking about? You want me to congratulate you because you and Josh haven’t had sex yet?’

  ‘I know,’ I say, and now I’m the one who’s forcing eye contact. ‘About you and Saskia.’

  47

  Saskia

  So, Joshie knows all about me and Robbie. He waited, thankfully, until we were alone to tell me this, the last guest having been forced to leave their front-row seat. He let me accuse and reproach in front of them, and he said nothing.

  Once the last one had left, and just as I was preparing myself for the big showdown, he said, ‘You can quit the act now, Sas.’

  I tried to protest, of course I did. He was having none of it. And, in all honesty, I didn’t have it in me to fight. We were going to tell them in a week or so anyway – why put him through the agony of having to fight to hear the truth? I did resist for a little while – I wanted to punish him for the public humiliation he had just put me through – but then he mentioned the flat and I knew I should just give it up, for his sake. I owed him that.

  I sat down on the ottoman before my legs gave way beneath me. All this time, I’d been thinking we had the upper hand, and they knew. I suddenly felt very cruel.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said finally. He had sat down opposite me on the sofa. ‘I’ll tell you everything.’

  ‘I think I pretty much know it all,’ he said. He didn’t even shout at me. He didn’t give me a hard time at all. And that almost made it worse. ‘I just wanted you to admit to it. I wanted you to stop treating me like an idiot.’

  ‘I don’t understand what’s going on with you and Paula,’ I said, as if I had any right to know the truth, after the way I’d been behaving. I was struck with jealousy, I’m not going to lie. The idea of Joshie, his hands all over another woman, his lips locked on hers, it was killing me. Hypocrite? Moi?

  He told me from start to finish about their – pretty chaste, I was glad to hear – relationship. And despite what all my party guests would say, I believed him. They were not having an affair. I couldn’t understand why I felt so relieved.

  ‘I’m sorry if you were embarrassed. That was never our intention.’

  I didn’t like the way he said the word ‘our’.

  ‘I’ll live,’ I said. He was looking wretched. I could see that he was racked with guilt. I reached out and took hold of his hand. And he let me.

  I looked at him. At his kind, handsome face. ‘Can you ever for
give me?’

  48

  Paula

  ‘What on earth are you talking about? Me and Saskia?’

  There’s an almost comedy moment where he blinks about four times.

  I nod slowly. I want to savour this moment. ‘I’ve known for months. Josh too.’

  He actually goes pale.

  ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about, but there is no me and Saskia. I mean, really, is this how you’re going to try to get out of what you’ve just done? What I saw with my own eyes?’

  I expected him to deny it. Coming clean has never been Robert’s strong point. And, besides, why would he tell the truth now, when Josh and I have just handed him a get-out-of-jail-free card?

  ‘I know about the heart she gave you, and her knickers in your dressing room and the fact that she calls you Robbie.’

  I know I’m rambling. I try to bring it back, stick to the important stuff. ‘I know you’re planning on leaving. I know about the flat.’

  That gets him. I can see his hand is shaking. He bumps the wine glass down on the table.

  I’m not finished. ‘So don’t give me that about Georgia. You’re planning on leaving and setting up home with Saskia in Chiltern bloody Mansions, without a second thought for Georgia. Two bedrooms, balcony, views to the park. I know everything about it. So just stop lying to me, Robert.’

  He can’t hide it. I can see it on his face. Busted.

  He puts his hands on the table, pushes himself up to a standing position.

  ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about. It’s late. I’m going to bed.’

  I stay there, stunned. That’s it. I’m out of ammo. Without a confession, we have nothing, guv. I’m floored by the fact that he’s just going to brazen it out. He’s going to attribute the breakdown of our marriage to me having an affair with Josh. He has witnesses. I have the flat, but that doesn’t prove anything, because it’s all in Saskia’s name. Other than that, I just have a carved heart and a bit of hearsay about a stray pair of pants.

  I sit there, defeated.

  My phone beeps to tell me I have a message. Josh.

  ‘Jesus Christ, what a night. Hope you’re OK. Sas has told me everything. Talk tomorrow. Xxx’

  Hallelujah.

  49

  Saskia

  It’s odd how good it feels, offloading it all. The more I tell him, the more I feel as if a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Of course, it helps that he seems to know it all anyway. No horrible surprises, although I imagine they were when he first discovered them.

  As soon as I’ve admitted my affair, I obviously have to stop giving him a hard time about him and Paula. It’s eating away at me, though. What was going on there? He told me they have just kissed a few times and, obviously, that’s only a one on the scale of bad things, whereas me and Robbie are a twelve. Out of ten, haha! And I believe him. I absolutely do. That’s the thing about Joshie, he’s all principles.

  But, even so, I want to know the details. How it started. Why. Was it just a spur of the moment reaction to finding out about me and Robbie? He wanted revenge and she just happened to be there? And probably gagging for it. Did she think she was getting one over on me, seducing my husband? Well, if she wants a competition, I’m in. We’ll see who he thinks is the biggest prize.

  The thought of everyone laughing at me is horrendous, I’m not going to lie. I’ll be a laughing stock at work for weeks. My husband got caught with his hand on some fat woman’s boob. Josh said I just have to front it out. He’s going to tell people that it was all a big mistake. Too many glasses of champagne. It’ll all die down, he said. It will go away.

  I felt hypocritical even worrying about that after what Robbie and I have been doing, but, like I said before, we were always discreet. Well, apparently not so discreet that Josh and Paula didn’t work out what was going on, but you know what I mean. We never got caught in the act.

  Even though I’m feeling embarrassed and hard done by, I beg Joshie for forgiveness. And I mean it. I want him to forgive me. I couldn’t bear him to think badly of me. Ridiculous, isn’t it? But he’s such a good man. His default position is to think the best of everyone. I don’t want to be the exception to that.

  He tells me he does. That he wishes me the best. Me and Robbie. I’m confused. I thought he would be the one begging.

  ‘I don’t know …’ I hear myself say. ‘Everything’s different now, isn’t it?’ I suddenly feel in a blind panic at the thought of losing him.

  ‘Different how?’ he says, in a way too unemotional voice.

  ‘Now that it’s all out in the open. We can work out what went wrong. Why on earth I did what I did …’

  ‘That’s just the thing, Sas,’ he says. ‘I didn’t think anything had gone wrong. I thought we were happy till I found out.’

  ‘We were!’ He looks at me sceptically. ‘I just got a bit carried away, that’s all.’

  ‘You were going to leave in a couple of weeks, right? You were going to set up home with him, make it impossible for me to carry on doing my job. That’s hardly getting “a bit carried away”.’

  He’s cross with me. I expected that. I deserve it. But what upsets me more is that he doesn’t sound it. He sounds resigned. Too rational, too calm. Too much like he doesn’t really care.

  ‘All of that … I don’t know what I was thinking. I wasn’t thinking. Please, Joshie …’

  ‘It’s OK,’ he says and, just for a second, I allow myself to hope. Because I know exactly what I want now. Now the explosion has happened, now everything is real, I just want my husband. I realize I haven’t even given a thought to how it’s going with Robbie and Paula.

  ‘Please, Josh. We’re strong. We can get over this. I love you. I’ve never stopped loving you, and that’s the truth, whether you believe it or not.’

  He leans over and puts his hand on mine, giving it a squeeze.

  ‘We should go to bed,’ he says. ‘Sleep on it.’

  It’s only when I’m getting undressed that I think to check my phone. Five missed calls from Robbie. One text.

  ‘Stay strong xxx’

  I don’t reply.

  50

  Paula

  ‘You and Saskia need to get your stories straight,’ I say. I hold my mobile up to show him Josh’s message. For the first time, he looks rattled.

  ‘He’s got a cheek, sending you a text when he knows you’re with me.’

  ‘What do you think that means? “Saskia’s told me everything?” ’

  He blanches. Scritches his beard. ‘God knows. You know what a diva she is. She’s probably made up some story to get back at him. Tit for tat.’

  ‘Robert. I know. Just tell me the truth. Let’s sort this out before George gets back.’

  ‘I’m going to bed,’ he says again, and he huffs off down the corridor, a cloud of smug piety billowing behind him.

  ‘And by the way,’ I call after him, ‘it’s true that me and Josh aren’t sleeping together. But we’re going to now. I can’t wait.’

  I hear him stomp back towards me. He pokes his head around the door, face like fury.

  ‘You’ve really sunk to new depths this time. Is this really how you want people to think of you? George?’

  I don’t even respond. Wait until he storms off again. Pick up my phone to call Josh. Listen as it rings out. I don’t leave a message.

  51

  Saskia

  This morning I got up super-early and made breakfast. This is an event, let me tell you! I’m not the domesticated type. Usually, it’s a bowl of sugar-free granola, and even that is prepared by Josh.

  Today, though, I find ripe avocados in the fridge and I mash them up with a little olive oil and cumin, like I saw someone do on TV the other day, spread the mixture on crispy toast and pop a poached egg on top. My poached eggs are a disaster, I’m not going to lie. They look like brains, and there’s water leaking from them, so the toast goes soggy in no time. But it’s the thought that counts.
r />   I put the two plates on a tray with a pot of coffee, two mugs and some milk, salt and black pepper. I can hardly lift the bloody thing but I manage to lug it up the stairs with minimal spillage. Josh is still asleep, so I gently nudge him awake and present my offering.

  I don’t think either of us got much sleep last night. I could sense that he was awake as much as I was, and at one point I risked it and snuggled into his back, draping my arm across his warm body. He didn’t react. But he didn’t push me off either, so that was something. He felt so safe, so solid. I whispered that I was sorry into his hair, but he didn’t reply so maybe he was sleeping after all.

  ‘I’m not really hungry,’ he says now. He looks wretched. Dark shadows under his beautiful eyes. I probably look no better myself.

  ‘It does look pretty inedible, doesn’t it?’ I slide back under the covers next to him. ‘I know you didn’t marry me for my culinary skills, haha!’

  He rewards me with a half-smile and my stomach does somersaults. In my head, I try to calculate how much money I would lose if I cancelled the rental agreement on the flat. Three months, I think, the notice period is. Maybe we could sublet.

  ‘It’s kind of you,’ he says. ‘But I’ll just have the coffee.’

  I pour him out a cup, hands shaking. ‘It’ll all be OK. I’ll make it up to you. And I’ll get over you and Paula. We’ll tell everyone you’d mixed antibiotics and alcohol or something. That you had no idea what you were doing. We’ll put on a united front and laugh about it.’

  He looks at me. Deep brown eyes holding my gaze. I want to put my hand out and feel the rough stubble on his chin, but I know I have to leave it up to him to make the first move.

  I wait.

  52

  Paula

  I wake up in George’s room, not knowing where I am. I lie there for a moment, taking in all her familiar things. Shelves full of books, a jumble of make-up, Stuffy, the bear that we gave her for her second birthday, the cute Cath Kidston suitcase we bought her before she found out she wasn’t leaving home yet after all. I give myself a minute to take it in and then I get up, making sure the bed bears no sign of me having slept there.

 

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