(2011) Only the Innocent

by Rachel Abbott

  There was only one answer to that, Tom reflected, but kept his thoughts to himself. Kate sighed quietly and continued.

  ‘There’s something I need to tell you.’

  Tom looked up briefly, continuing to fork the pasta into his mouth.

  ‘I wanted you to hear it from me that Declan and I are splitting up. It hasn’t worked out, and it’s time to do something about it. I’m sorry if I was grumpy on the phone yesterday, but that was part of the problem.’

  Tom was genuinely surprised. This was the first he’d heard about things not being too good between them, but then again, he’d never asked. Lucy always seemed happy enough, which was his major concern.

  ‘What’s happened?’

  Kate swallowed. She looked nervous.

  ‘I left you for lots of reasons, Tom. You know that I struggled with your working hours, and Declan was so attentive. You were always distracted, thinking about your latest murder or something.’

  Tom picked up his plate and started to scrape the remains of his food into the bin. He’d somehow lost his appetite. He’d heard all this before, so why was she bringing it up again?

  ‘Oh, don’t look like that. It was so hard for me. Declan works long hours too - but they’re consistent, so I know what to expect. I don’t mind him getting up early in the morning to be at his desk at the crack of dawn, because I have to get Lucy ready anyway. And even though he gets home latish, it is at least predictable and he always does get home.’

  Kate paused. He could see she was finding this hard, but no way was he going to help her.

  ‘Unfortunately, his attentive nature hasn’t gone unnoticed by one of his colleagues it would seem, and recently he’s been having lots of team outings. I found out purely by accident that the ‘team’ consisted of just one other member. He says he’s ended it, and it was just a fling, but I don’t want to know. We’re not married, and I’m not prepared to stay with him and risk it happening again in a few years. I’m just going to have to find somewhere to live, and move on.’

  Tom was stunned. Declan had been painted as some sort of saint, and although they’d met when dropping off or picking up Lucy, for a long time Tom hadn’t wanted to know anything about him. It was all he could do not to punch him in the teeth, to be honest. But that anger had long since passed.

  ‘I’m sorry he’s hurt you, Kate. I know from bitter experience how it feels when you think your partner prefers someone else.’

  He knew he was being petty, but after the casual way she had thrown him aside in favour of the wonderful Declan, he was struggling to feel any sympathy.

  ‘There was no need for that, Tom. But I am really sorry that I was so shallow. I should have appreciated your qualities, and shouldn’t have been taken in by nothing more than attention and compliments. I know now that you are by far the better man.’

  Tom was not remotely moved by these words, as he was also aware that Kate had been particularly attracted to Declan’s six-figure income, not to mention his equally enormous annual bonus. He wasn’t sure what she was up to, but he was certain he didn’t like it. One thing was worrying him more than anything else.

  ‘Where are you planning on moving to, Kate? I only relocated down here to be near Lucy; I haven’t been here five minutes and you’re talking about moving. Where to?’

  ‘Oh stop that. You know you love the job here. It’s the dream job for you, so I don’t feel bad about getting you to move south, even though I might not stay here myself.’

  Tom didn’t believe what he was hearing. Since Kate had left him, many things had happened and they had all been unpleasant. And now he was just starting to get his life back together. When she had gone, she’d taken Lucy to the other end of the country without the slightest concern for him. It wasn’t always easy to get weekends off, and travelling down to London had cost him the earth at a time when he could ill afford it. Divorce is an expensive business, and he was adamant that he - not Declan - would support Lucy.

  Then his brother Jack had died. So he’d lost his wife and his brother - and if he hadn’t taken this job he would have pretty much lost his daughter too. She’d have grown up seeing him only for the odd weekend, and he wasn’t prepared to accept that.

  ‘Where are you thinking of going, Kate? And why are you even thinking of moving away? Lucy’s got friends here now, and you seem to enjoy life.’

  ‘Quite simply it’s because I can’t afford to live here - at least not to the level that I have been living, and I don’t want Lucy’s lifestyle to change.’

  Oh, here we go, thought Tom. Obviously when Kate had left him, she’d thought Declan’s city salary was a better option. But when Jack had died, his will left everything to Tom - and it was an extraordinary amount of money as his brother had only recently sold his thriving business. It didn’t take much guessing to work out what Kate was after.

  ‘I’ll buy you a house, Kate. How does that sound? I’ll buy you a reasonable house, in a reasonable area, and I will happily maintain you until you find yourself another man - which you undoubtedly will do. You know Lucy is taken care of - I’ve already sorted that. Will that make you stay?’

  ‘Tom, I didn’t come for that.’

  He resisted the temptation to laugh, but when the next Natalie Merchant song turned out to be My Beloved Wife, usually one of his favourites, he had to smile at the irony. But the mood he’d been trying to create was broken, so he walked over and turned the music off. He froze when he felt Kate close behind him. Her arms came around his waist, her full breasts rubbing his back through the thin fabric of his tee-shirt.

  ‘Tom - look at me.’ Tom turned round with a feeling of apprehension. Kate moved her arms until they were round his neck. He looked down into her brown eyes; eyes that had captivated him for years. He saw pleading in them and realised that Kate was not a woman who could feel complete without a man. At the moment, he was probably the best - if not the only - option.

  ‘I’m so very, very sorry for what I did two years ago. It was a huge mistake, and I have never regretted anything more in my life.’

  ‘Kate, you had an affair. You left me. You practically destroyed me. But now I’m okay, and I’m not going to put myself through that again.’

  After he had discovered Kate’s affair, he had tormented himself with guilt. It took him a long time to realise that it was his wife’s desire to seek excitement that had been the root cause. His steady and uncomplicated love hadn’t been enough. But she had never seen it that way.

  ‘Come on. You know it’s not as simple as that. I wasn’t able to resist him. I know it sounds corny, but I felt lonely and he paid me a lot of attention. You don’t know what it’s like, Tom. It’s never happened to you.’

  Tom grasped her arms and pulled himself free. He walked to the other side of the room, where she could no longer touch him. He realised that after all this time, he was still angry with her.

  ‘Do you honestly think that I never had the opportunity, or the desire, to sleep with somebody else? Do you think you’re the only person it happened to? Do you think I don’t know what it’s like to feel that flutter of excitement when somebody comes into the room, when you know that they want you as much as you want them?’

  ‘Oh come off it, Tom. You’re a policeman. You can’t have an affair with one or your fellow officers, because it’s more than your job’s worth. And you never see anybody else.’

  Tom was keeping his anger and frustration in check. Kate had always believed that things happened to her, and that they were outside her control. She just didn’t get it that she was responsible for her own actions.

  ‘Two points, Kate. I see lots of people in my job, as you would realise if you had ever shown the slightest interest. And - more importantly - I wouldn’t resist because of my job. I would resist because of my marriage. If you think it was possible for me to resist out of fear of losing a job, why wasn’t it possible for you to resist for fear of losing a husband?’

  Kate was not to be
deterred, and she followed him across the room. She put her hands on his shoulders. He felt himself tense. She was so bloody beautiful. His body was reacting to her, but his mind was shouting ‘no’. He didn’t move, either to push her away or to respond.

  ‘I made a mistake, Tom - that’s all. I’m just human, and I don’t have your strength of character. But I don’t want to live in a nice house in a nice area with just Lucy and me on our own. At least in Manchester we’ve got some friends, but here I’ve got nobody. Nobody, that is, except you.’

  Kate reached up to kiss him. Two years ago, Tom would have given his right arm for this moment. He put his hands on her waist and held her away from him. Neither of them spoke, and neither knew what was going to happen next. He couldn’t let her kiss him, but when he looked at the plump pinkness of her soft lips it would have been so easy to give in.

  Kate broke the silence.

  ‘Why can’t we be a family again? You, me and Lucy? She would love it, you know, and so would I. I’m so ashamed of my behaviour, and I promise you on Lucy’s life that I would never do anything like that again. What do you say? We were happy once, we could try again. For Lucy’s sake?’

  That, of course, was playing the trump card. The thought of living with Lucy every day and seeing her every evening was enormously tempting. But Kate had unintentionally broken the spell. Common sense had prevailed, and he knew exactly what her game was. He realised that her beauty wasn’t worth it; it was skin deep, and nothing more. She wasn’t a bad person, but she was shallow. It had never occurred to him before, but Kate didn’t make proactive decisions. She just reacted to each set of events. He lifted his hands from her waist, and removed her arms from his shoulders.

  ‘I would love to see Lucy every day. But you and I… we’re past the point of no return. Let me find you somewhere to live for now, so that you can leave Declan, and we’ll see how it goes from there.’

  ‘Is that a definite ‘no’, or a ‘maybe’ to getting back together?’

  Tom held on to her hands - partly because he wanted to ensure that she didn’t touch him again, and partly because he knew he was hurting her.

  ‘Let’s just say that we need to let the dust settle, and then we can talk about the right solution.’

  Tom knew that a definite ‘no’ would be the signal for Kate be on the first train to Manchester. He needed to give her some hope, although he didn’t think that even for Lucy he could go back to her, knowing full well that his money was his greatest appeal. But for now, he needed to maintain the status quo.

  Kate appeared to think she had made some progress. She smiled at him and squeezed his hands.

  ‘Why don’t I try to find somewhere close by? I could start looking tomorrow. Then you could see Lucy all the time, and if we’re just renting it would be easy to make a more permanent move when you’re ready. What do you think?’

  ‘Have a look, let me know what the damage is, but don’t commit yourself. I’ll probably have to sign the rental agreement anyway, so promise me you’ll just look until you’ve spoken to me. If you need to leave Declan urgently, then book yourselves into a hotel. I’ll pay the bill.’

  Kate smiled at him, and he could read a hint of triumph in her eyes. He didn’t have the heart to squash her dreams yet.

  ‘I knew we could work something out. I’ll phone you tomorrow when I’ve found somewhere.’

  Kissing him gently on his unshaven cheek, she smiled and made her way almost triumphantly out of the front door.

  Now Tom had two things to think about: the case, and his ex-wife. He somehow didn’t think that the good night’s sleep that he had promised himself would be forthcoming.

  CHAPTER 18

  They had been a subdued group at dinner, each locked in their own private thoughts. Stella had tried to lighten the atmosphere a little, but her attempts at neutral conversation had fallen largely on deaf ears. Imogen had finally been able to escape to her room after a hurried conversation with Laura whilst Stella was in the kitchen making coffee.

  ‘Listen Laura, if you don’t want me to read any more, I won’t. I know that I pushed for this, because you said I didn’t understand anything. But I was seriously out of order. I can stop if you like.’

  Laura gave her a hint of a sad smile.

  ‘I hated the idea of you reading them to start with, but now I think I really need you to carry on. I just want one person to understand, and I can’t think of anybody better than you. In a way it will be an enormous relief to me. I wrote the letters because I wanted to tell you everything - but I couldn’t. I nearly did once - do you remember? But we lost the moment. When I was writing, you were always in my mind. It was as if you were in the room and I was able to tell you everything. But the reality was that I was too ashamed of my stupidity and weakness. Just get rid of them as soon as you’ve read them, though. I never want to see or think about them again.’

  ‘If you’re sure? In that case, I think I’ll skip the coffee and just go up to my room. Just tell me any time if you want me to stop.’

  And so here she was, the shrinking pile of letters by her side, the shredder from Hugo’s office standing by to dispose of them as soon as she’d read them.

  Taking a quick gulp of the whisky that she had chosen as a preferable nightcap to coffee, she decisively pulled the top few sheets towards her.

  ***

  SEPTEMBER 1998

  My dear Imogen

  Today is the day that I’ve decided you are never going to read these letters. So why write them? You may well ask. But you see, Imo, it soothes me, if that’s not too ridiculous a word to use. I feel as if I’m talking to you - and I can kind of anticipate how you would respond. But I don’t have to suffer the shame of telling you all of this to your face. Does that make sense? And I am ashamed. Although I don’t really know why I should be the one feeling humiliated. Can you explain to me why people constantly feel ashamed of the actions of people close to them? Anyway, I’m rambling.

  I’m in Sorrento. I’m sitting looking out over the Bay of Naples, and it’s stunning. This is a sight I’ve wanted to see for years. But I didn’t expect to be gazing over this glorious vista and feeling the way I do. Not even this view can take away the pain.

  Hugo isn’t with me. He’s stayed at the hotel making some calls. I desperately needed some time alone. Time to think. I was going to take a hire car, but Hugo insisted I had a driver. I wasn’t happy about it because I’m perfectly capable of driving myself. But as we sped around all the steep bends with the road clinging precariously to the cliff face, and encountered Italian drivers overtaking on totally blind corners, I realised that Hugo was right.

  As, it would appear, he always is.

  The big problem is, I don’t know if I’m being ridiculous. I’ve gone over and over everything in my head, and I can’t help wondering if my romantic dreams were unrealistic. But this is what happened, and I’d love to know what you think. But I don’t suppose I’ll ask.

  The day after the wedding, we left for honeymoon. Despite my resolution to see things from Hugo’s perspective, I still felt that ache inside that I get when I’m masking unhappiness. I think I hid it well - I knew that if I’d said anything it would develop into a row, and I didn’t want that. I believe I can fix this, you see.

  I started to feel a bit better when we got to the airport. A chauffeured car had arrived to take us to Heathrow and I still didn’t know where we were going. Hugo had helped me to pick my clothes for the honeymoon and wherever we were heading it was clearly expected to be a little warmer than England, and quite glamorous if my new outfits were anything to go by. I wasn’t disappointed.

  On arrival at Heathrow, we were quickly whisked through to first class departures, and Hugo leaned across and whispered one word in my ear. ‘Venice.’ This was more like my Hugo. He smiled and kissed me gently on the cheek. Whatever had ailed him the day before, he was now back to being the romantic man of my dreams, and he knows that Venice is my favourite place in th
e world. I’ve only been once before - bizarrely to a conference rather than on holiday, do you remember? But I’d found the time to ride on a vaporetto down the Grand Canal, and sip a Bellini in a rather disappointing Harry’s Bar. I’d always wanted to come back - preferably with a man that I loved so that I could take a gondola ride with him. Cheesy, I know - but so romantic. And now Hugo was taking me there.

  And that wasn’t the only exciting thing. When I asked him where we were staying, he gave the perfect answer.

  ‘The Cipriani - where else?’ Hugo actually had a twinkle in his eye. ‘Not my personal favourite, but I thought you would like it.’

  I was thrilled. Obviously I’d got things out of proportion, and now everything would be fine.

  ‘How long are we staying?’

  ‘Just five days.’ Hugo smiled. ‘And then we’ll fly to Naples, and on to Positano for another five days.’

  I couldn’t believe it. The Amalfi coast! He really had thought of everything.

  As we were travelling first class, the flight attendant smiled at me and gave me a glass of chilled champagne as soon as we’d boarded. I could definitely get used to this life, although of course there’s more to life that the luxuries that extreme wealth provides.

  I really thought that everything was going to be perfect when we checked into the hotel, because when Hugo was asked if he wanted to make reservations for dinner, he gave the answer I was hoping to hear.

  ‘Thank you, but I think we would like to eat in our suite. Perhaps I could consult the chef about the menu. In the meantime I’d be grateful if you could have a bottle of Cristal sent to the room straight away.’

  I was a bit less pleased when we reached the suite and found that there were two bedrooms, and I was clearly expected to sleep in one whilst Hugo would take the other. But I’d already decided that I need to work at this, and tantrums would achieve nothing. What’s odd to me is apparently not odd to Hugo.