by Sofia Grey
Anita drove us back and we resumed our normal evening pattern. Her phone beeped as she prepared dinner and surprised, she read the text aloud to me.
Hi Hun. You need 2 know, I’ve moved out 2day and in with my friends in Manchester. I have a month’s notice to work in the shop then I start my new job. New job, new home, just need new b/f. Danny not taking it well. Txt me when U R home again. Colette xxx
Tears sprang to her eyes, and I gave her a hug, unsure if she was crying for Colette or Psycho Danny.
Seeing my laptop open and my camera attached, she asked what I was doing. When I explained that I was uploading the photos I’d taken, she suddenly remembered something and disappeared upstairs, returning with a CD.
“I forgot about this. It’s some pictures from the shows. Danny did this compilation for me, and he said I could view it on any computer. Could we look at them on yours?”
I was glad of this new distraction and secretly triumphant Danny had been metaphorically kicked in the balls. Anita remained unwilling to say why Colette had left him, but that quickly became clear.
After a few pictures of Anita jumping huge fences on Sam, came a picture of her snogging Danny. Her shocked gasp and instantly red face made my heart sink. I stared dispassionately at the photograph. Even more telling was Colette’s pretty face in the background, looking at them, dismayed. After the horrors I’d endured over the past week, I was strangely calm as I examined the details. Their lips pressed together, his hand resting lightly on her ass. Beside me, she gulped, and stared at me, her eyes wide.
“He took me by surprise,” she managed. “I was not expecting that.”
I just looked at her. When I spoke, my voice came out reassuringly normal. “I think I can see why Colette moved out. It wouldn’t have anything to do with this would it?”
Anita said nothing, just reddened and tried to fumble the CD out of the drive.
I pushed her hand away with surprising force, and she yelped. “Leave it,” I snarled. I looked at her coldly. “I’d like to see if there’s any more like this.”
She leapt to her feet, twisting her hands and staring at my laptop as though it would bite her. I could have laughed aloud. This was exactly how Susie behaved when I found out about her cheating.
I flicked through a few more pictures. More innocent shots of horses, several of Anita I noticed, focusing on her gorgeous arse, delicious and pert in her tight breeches. And then the killer.
Danny snogging her again. Her arms around his neck this time, his tongue seemingly down her throat, and his fucking erection showing in his pants. I felt sick to my stomach. Taking a breath, I looked back at her. “Maybe you have a good explanation for this one as well? You’re wearing your sash, so it was clearly taken at a different time.”
“I told you, he took me by surprise.” I couldn’t tell if she was angry or scared.
I managed a mocking laugh. “Took you by surprise—twice? Not very likely. Try again, sweetheart.”
She took a shuddering breath. Her arms were wrapped around her body, eyes wildly flicking from me, back to the laptop, and back to me. I had to say, she was cornered.
“The first one, was when I got my clear round.”
I inclined my head for her to continue. She hesitated.
“The second one was when I won the cup.”
I steepled my fingers together in mock concentration. I was impressed by my self-control. What I really wanted to do was to hurl the fucking laptop out of the window and drive over it. Not particularly practical though.
I stared back at the screen. Slowly, carefully, I arranged it so that both of the pictures were side by side.
Anita was trembling, but obstinate. “It’s not what you think, I swear it!”
“Swear it? His hand is on your arse in this one.” I pointed carefully. “His tongue is down your bloody throat in this one.” I pointed helpfully again. In the same icy voice, I continued. “And his fucking hard-on is very visible here, would you like me to point that out to you? But I guess you’ve already seen that firsthand. In the flesh?”
“No.” She shouted at me, but I raged on.
“So, when you told me you went on the pill, for me, are you sure about the details of that? Or do you want to change your story there too?”
“Jon, no. Stop this.”
She trembled so hard, I was surprised she could still stand. One hand fluttered around her forehead, the other clenching and twitching. I sat back and looked at her beautiful face, and felt a pang for what might have been.
“Have you been taking acting lessons from my wife? I could swear you seemed genuine when you told me how scared you were of sex, how rough your ex-boyfriend was.”
She stared at me, not comprehending. Her eyes were huge and glittering, tears cascading silently down her cheeks. Pain twisted in my gut. Despite the evidence of her infidelity, I still loved her, still wanted her. More fool me. “I had a chat with Colette at the show. She was sporting some interesting bruises on her collarbone, and I asked if she’d fallen off a horse too. You know, she just laughed and said it was a different kind of riding. Your darling Danny is something of an animal in the sack, according to her. But I forget, you like a bit of rough trade, don’t you?”
She shook her head, and tried to interrupt, but I raised my voice and shouted her down. “So were you just using me to break you in gently? A bit of a distraction for you? Get Danny all fired up about the competition? Do you get a kick out of men fighting over you? You make me sick.”
21.2 Jon
Anita grabbed my shirtfront. “You are going to listen to me, damn you.”
I took a breath. Glanced at my watch and looked suitably bored. “Go on then. It won’t make any difference.”
“These pictures, this is just smoke and mirrors. Two photographs taken out of all context. They’re meaningless.”
I pretended to yawn. “Where have I heard this before? Oh yeah. I remember Susie making a very similar speech.”
“I can prove what I mean.” She ran off upstairs again.
I cracked open the first bottle of whisky and poured myself a hefty measure with shaking hands. Within moments, she returned, brandishing a newspaper.
“Here, look at this story. It’s the Daily Comet talking about your interview, how you’re getting back with your wife. And showing lots of pictures of you with other women, me and Colette included.” She threw the paper at me.
I opened it, curious, despite my fury. I scanned the page, puzzled as to where they’d gotten all the pictures. As for the story, well it was rubbish. But that was incidental.
I shrugged. “Your point being?”
She took a breath, and moderated her voice. “My point being that this is another example of smoke and mirrors. Innocent pictures shown out of context.”
“So what?”
“So, I read this, and after the initial shock, I thought about it. I trusted you, Jon, like you asked. I trusted that this was just rubbish, something to make you look bad. Am I right?”
I squinted at the photos. “These make me look good actually. Although, I wasn’t staring down Colette’s cleavage. Perhaps I should have. I doubt I’ll get another opportunity.”
“But it’s the same thing, don’t you see?” Her voice rose.
I slammed the paper back onto the table and stood up, stalking over to her, pinning her against the wall. “How is it the same? How can it possibly be the fucking same? My life is littered with women. You knew that. My job entails glamorous women at every race, and it goes with the territory. I have my photo taken, they walk away. End of story.”
I pressed closer, I could smell her fear as she stared at me. “Whereas you—sweetheart—you work with this prick. You. Fucking. Live. With. Him.” I took a breath. “Even your parents say they expected you to be a couple. You’ve known him since you were in nappies. You just fancied a bit of a go with me before you settled down with him. Well you’re welcome to him. As far as I’m concerned, we’re finished.”
“I love you, you idiot. Doesn’t that count for anything?”
I stared her in the face, spoke slowly. “I think it’s a bit late for that, don’t you?”
“No. I know you feel something for me too. Why can’t we just talk about this?”
“I thought we were talking.” I stared into her swollen, red eyes. Even after crying, with a tear-blotched face she looked heartbreakingly beautiful.
She reached out to touch me, her fingertips brushing against my cheek. I steeled myself not to move. “Do you want one last fuck for old time’s sake, darling? If you want it rough, I can do rough.”
I’d gone too far. Her face crumpled, and she was as frightened as I’d ever seen her. I swung around, regretting my words, regretting everything.
I sat down heavily at the table, poured some more whisky. I needed to blot it all out, every last fucking minute.
If I needed any further confirmation I’d turned into a monster, this was it. Anita’s knees gave way and she slid down the wall, to crouch on the floor and weep. The cats and Maddie gathered round her anxiously. I stared down, barely seeing her.
“Bitch.” I snarled. She flinched and carried on weeping, huddling herself into a tighter ball.
Remorse flooded my body. When I was sober again, I’d hate myself for this. I’d add it to the list of things I now hated about myself. It was just as well I didn’t plan on being sober again anytime soon. I poured more whisky, picked up my laptop, stalked into the lounge and resumed my session, adding some loud music to drown any possible noise from the kitchen.
It may have been another form of self-torture, but I wanted to look through the remaining pictures on the CD. There were some more innocent ones, then two of me standing with Colette. The first was a clever picture, skillfully cropped to show just the two of us standing together on a sunny day. You wouldn’t know it was taken at the horse show, it could have been anywhere. I remembered the moment, we’d been watching Anita get her clear round, and we smiled in delight at each other. Because of the height difference, I had to look down to meet her eyes and in this photo, I appeared to be staring down her generous cleavage. In the second, I was hugging her, lifting her off the ground, and again our expressions were of delight.
Hang on, I’d seen these pictures somewhere else. My mind churned slowly. Anita said something about pictures out of context, but no, I couldn’t remember. Over the music, I dimly heard her feet clattering upstairs and a door slamming.
Sighing heavily, I turned my attention back to my email. I’d resisted Susie’s crazy demand all the way along. She’d no need for my ‘Vette, other than to cause me the maximum amount of pain by removing the thing that meant the most to me. I stared blindly at the screen. None of it mattered any more. Losing the ‘Vette was a drop in the ocean compared to what happened tonight. Anita’s betrayal, on top of everything else.
What use was the ‘Vette to me now? I couldn’t even drive.
What had happened to my life? I no longer recognized it. I no longer wanted it like this.
I replied to the lawyers email.
She can have it. I just want a swift end to the farce that was my marriage.
Before I hit send, I went back to the kitchen to top up my whisky and saw again the newspaper that Anita had been ranting about. Yes, I remembered now. That’s where I’d seen the pictures of Colette with me, in that stupid feature. It didn’t matter anymore. I went back to my laptop, pressed send and toasted my bitch wife with my glass. My vision was too blurred to read anything more on the screen.
All I had left was to prove to myself I could drive that damned car outside, even if it killed me.
And it probably would.
21.3 Anita
I lay on our bed with the cats as company, and listened to the thumping rock sounds from downstairs. Maddie had defected to Jon’s side again. Every part of my body ached, but for now, my tears had stopped. Was I all cried out?
Those horrible pictures, what the hell had Danny been thinking? He knew Jon might see them and get the wrong idea. A voice at the back of my mind chimed in. Perhaps that’s what he wanted? To drive a wedge between us. I knew they hated each other. Danny took every opportunity to slag him off. And yet Danny was insistent he’d still be there for me when Jon had long gone. I didn’t know what to believe.
As I lay there, my mind spinning endlessly over everything that happened today, the front door banged. Then the car door. I sat up, alert. The Jeep engine started, I heard it growl and then roar as Jon gunned the engine, tires scraping on the gravel.
I ran to the window, and watched helpless as he fishtailed out of the parking area. He drove like a madman. He was drunk, badly drunk. I’d seen how much alcohol he’d knocked back, and that was while I was still downstairs. He was in no state to go out in the car. What the hell should I do? God. The roads were so narrow, the drops over the cliff edges so accessible.
I closed my eyes in horror. Did I call the police? They’d respond quickly, but he’d be in such serious trouble, he’d probably lose his license. It would end his career. Another voice whispered, If he can’t drive any more, he can’t go into Formula 1.
I could keep him safe.
No. I wouldn’t do that to him. Despite what he obviously thought of me now, I still loved him. I wanted him to be happy, even if he was no longer mine.
What else could I do? There were no other cars here. There was nobody I could call for help. Or was there?
Kate and Jordan. I barely knew them, but they were local and my only hope. Kate had given me her number. It seemed an age before she answered, sounding delighted to hear from me.
“Anita. You won’t believe this. I was just suggesting we give you a call to see if you want to come over again, before you go home at the weekend.”
I took a deep breath. I’d no idea what to say to her. “Please Kate, I need your help. Is Jordan there with you?”
“Yes, of course.” She had to hear the urgency in my voice. Moments later, the phone clicked and hissed slightly, and she spoke again. “It’s on speaker, we’re both here. What’s the matter?”
I swallowed down a hysterical sob. “It’s Jon. We’ve had, well, the most terrible argument. But he’s drunk, and now he’s taken the car.” I told them as fast as I could. “I’m terrified he might put the car over the edge. It’s so much to ask, but will you please go and find him? Before he kills someone.” The words dried up in my mouth.
There was silence from the other end. They couldn’t help me. I shouldn’t have asked. They were probably trying to come up with an excuse why they were busy. I tried to apologize, but Jordan’s voice cut over me.
“Listen to me, Anita. Do you have any idea where he might have gone? Or in which direction?”
I took a breath, tried to think rationally. “The past few days he’s been trying to drive up to the car park at the base of Holyhead Mountain, the one for South Stack lighthouse. It’s probably the road he knows best, in the daylight at least.” I glanced fearfully outside. It was now completely dark.
I heard a frantic whispered discussion, then Kate’s voice, strong and reassuring. “Jordan will go look for him. I’ll come to you, and we’ll head in the other direction. Don’t panic, Anita, we’ll find him.”
It felt like hours later that a bright red Mini pulled up outside the house, I hunched on the doorstep, twisting my phone in my hands. A Mini, Kate drove the same type of car as me. I ran to her and scrambled into the passenger seat, and she wrapped her arms around me, hugging me tight.
“I’m sorry,” I could barely speak. “I didn’t know who to ask.”
“Come on,” she gave me a squeeze. “Let’s go in the other direction.” She handed me her mobile. “You hang on to this. Jordan will ring if he finds him.” She glanced into the back seat, and I followed her gaze. Poppy was there, strapped into another complicated looking harness.
“Oh God, I forgot all about Poppy. I shouldn’t have called you.”
“Pops is asl
eep. She nods off in the car, so she won’t know anything about this. Let’s go.”
We set off, taking the road toward Trearddur, Kate driving fast while I stared out into the dark, looking for the lights of a car. The village was quiet. We were the only ones on the road. Minutes later, Kate’s phone jangled. I stared, mesmerized. Terrified in case it was bad news.
She pulled over, grabbed the phone from my hand and answered it. I heard the rumble of Jordan’s voice, and Kate’s relieved reply. “You have? Oh thank God for that.” I tensed, stared mutely at her, and she flashed me a reassuring smile. She listened again, held up a finger to me, to stop me interrupting, and spoke briefly to her husband. “I’ll see you at home.”
Finishing the call, she placed the phone back in my lap and took both my hands. “He’s found him, in the car park where you thought. He’s very drunk and not in great shape, so Jordan has locked up your car and removed the keys, and he’s taking him back to our house.” She hesitated. “Jon seems very angry with you.”
I sank my head. Relief poured over me, and I shook from head to toe, my teeth chattering with the aftermath of the shock.
Kate gently rubbed my hands. “Hey, come on. He’s fine, we found him in time. Thanks to you.” She gave me an encouraging smile.
“He shouldn’t have been there in the first place. It’s my fault he was,” I whispered. I couldn’t raise the strength to speak properly. Kate just looked at me, as though planning what to say.
“Are you okay to come over and stay with us? Can you leave your pets overnight?” I nodded. “Let’s go back and get some clean clothes for you both, then you come back with me as well.”
21.4 Anita
Kate carried the still sleeping Poppy into her house, while I took my rucksack with some clothes for both of us and our toothbrushes. As we walked in, I heard Jordan talking in the kitchen and Jon’s voice, slurring badly. I hesitated in the hallway and Kate nudged me with her elbow. “Why don’t you come with me while I get Pops settled?” I followed her gratefully upstairs, unwilling to interrupt Jordan.