by Susan Lewis
Her eyes were burning, as she drew in her lips to stop them from trembling. He was trying so hard not to offend her, or to make her feel responsible, or inadequate. She looked at him in the softly flickering candlelight and loved him with every fibre of her being. ‘There’s nothing wrong with you,’ she said, her voice barely more than a croak.
He watched her, waiting for her to continue, but she couldn’t. Dread was taking over everything inside her, rendering her incapable of anything more than the effort to breathe.
‘Are you trying to tell me there’s something wrong with you?’ he said, a sudden fear in his eyes. ‘Something not to do with … Something more serious?’
She shook her head. ‘No,’ she said brokenly. ‘There’s nothing wrong with me either.’
As he waited she could sense his confusion, and wondered why this was happening now when she had tried so hard to avoid it. Two weeks was all she had wanted, and then she’d have told him. She wasn’t ready to do it now. But the moment was here and no matter how desperately she longed to escape it, she knew she no longer could.
‘What is it?’ he said. ‘Ellen, what are you trying to tell me?’
The tightness of her heart was so intense she could feel every beat as it throbbed through her chest. ‘I …’ She reached for her glass, but didn’t pick it up. ‘You recall the night you came back from London? You know, after your last trip?’
She almost felt him become still and knew exactly what was going through his mind.
She tried to smile. ‘I came home,’ she said, her voice faltering on the words. ‘I saw you with Michelle.’
‘Oh my God,’ he murmured. He turned to look out at the night, as though somewhere there, in the darkness, he would find what he needed to say. Then his eyes returned to hers, and she could see his remorse as clearly as she could see the unease. ‘I know I should have told you,’ he said, ‘but … Oh Christ, Ellen, I’m sorry. You’ve got to know it didn’t mean anything. It would never have happened, but …’
‘No, Michael, please, I just want you to listen,’ she interrupted.
He watched her face and started to reach out for her hand, but she shook her head and drew her hand back. She could see how much that hurt him, but it just wasn’t possible for her to tell him while he was touching her.
‘After I saw you,’ she said, ‘I got back in my car and started to drive. I’m not sure whether I knew where I was going … All I can remember is trying to blot out what I had seen, and it was like, if I went back over the route I’d just come then maybe it would roll back the time. I’d been with Tom at the Four Seasons, so that was where I ended up.’ She looked at him. ‘I slept with him,’ she whispered, ‘and now I’m pregnant.’
As the blood drained from his face she could feel the world slipping away. The sounds of the night dipped and rose, the hot, humid air closed around her face like a suffocating sponge. She watched him and felt the brutal tearing of the bond between them as though it were happening as a real and physical wrench. Her hands started to move as though they could somehow put it back together, but there was nothing to touch. They were drifting away from each other, having nothing now to pull them back. She could almost hear the ramifications of what she’d said as they began to crowd in on him, and sensed his bitter struggle for understanding as it sought the steady ground of reason or logic. For one awful and strangely light-headed moment, it all felt like a dream, one in which she knew she would wake up any minute, but just couldn’t make herself.
At last he moved, putting his hands to his head and pressing down hard.
‘Oh God, Michael, I’m sorry,’ she said, tears spilling unchecked from her eyes. ‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t …’ She jumped as he got abruptly up from the table.
‘You’re sorry?’ he seethed. ‘What, do you think that makes it all right? Because you’re sorry?’
‘Michael, please,’ she begged, ‘let’s at least try to talk …’
‘Talk! Are you out of your mind? You’re carrying another man’s child …’
‘I don’t know that for certain,’ she cried. ‘It could be yours.’
He stared down at her, his face so hard with anger she could barely make herself look back.
‘It could be yours,’ she repeated.
His nostrils were flared, his lips were bloodless and thin. ‘No,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Oh, no.’
‘Don’t say that,’ she choked. ‘You don’t know …’
‘Nor do you,’ he responded, ‘that’s the whole point,’ and turning away he started into the house.
Panic brought her to her feet. ‘Michael, don’t walk away,’ she cried, grabbing his arm. ‘Please, not like this.’
He looked down at where she was holding him, then returned his stony eyes to hers.
‘Michael, listen,’ she gasped. ‘Please try to understand …’
‘I do understand,’ he said, and prising her off he went on into the house.
Ellen stayed where she was, her whole body shaking as she put a hand to her head and began to look around in despair. She tried to remind herself that she’d known he would react like this, that she was prepared for it and would be able to reason it through. But it didn’t help, for she knew now that despite her very worst fears she had managed, in some kind of foolish delusion, to retain the whisper of a hope that somehow it would be all right. God only knew how it could be, because she’d never been able to imagine it – it was just something, like the blind faith of a child, that had stayed with her, but was now being crushed so completely she was afraid it would never come back.
He slept in the spare room that night. Unable to face their bed alone, Ellen closed up the house and curled up on a sofa. Hour after hour ticked by as she lay there, marooned in the hell of her own pain, tormented by the merest thought of his. She tried to make herself think about the future and what they would do, but her mind was locked in the moment, unable to move past the anguish and despair. So many lives would be affected now, but most of all theirs, and though she knew she would find it in her somewhere to handle it, right now the dread of going back to LA was almost overwhelming.
It was during those dark and frightening early-morning hours that she began to consider abortion, no longer as an option, but as an answer. The thought of it scalded her eyes with more tears and sent denial surging through her heart. She could consider it all she liked, but it wasn’t an answer and never could be, for no matter who the father was, she was the mother and it was to her that tiny little life would be looking for all the love and protection it deserved. So how could she kill it because of a mistake she had made? What right did she have to make it pay for something it didn’t even understand?
When dawn finally came she looked out at the lightening sky and felt exhaustion steal over her. She resisted the thought of a new day, but no matter what she did time was always going to move on – the sun would rise, night would fall and life and its disasters would have to be faced. But not now, please not now, when she had cried so many tears and suffered so much guilt and remorse she no longer had the energy even to keep her eyes open.
Though she slept, strange and doleful nightmares swooped around her, taunting her with images that scared her and pushed her fiercely to the surface of sleep, but never through to the other side. She murmured and tossed, and finally woke with a start to find her limbs bruised and aching and her head throbbing a blinding tattoo. Immediately she remembered why she was there and felt a gulf opening in her heart. She longed for more sleep, but was afraid of that too, not wanting to return to the peculiarly heartless world of her subconscious.
Forcing herself to her feet she went through to the bathroom and cleaned her teeth. Then she looked at herself in the mirror and saw the reflection of a pale, haunted woman. She brushed her hair and snapped it into a slide, then splashed cold water on her face to try to bring back some colour. With each move she could feel her reluctance to breathe. It was as though the slightest breath might bring in more pain.
Trying to shake off her fears, she went back to the kitchen to put on some coffee. Then she saw Michael standing at the edge of the garden staring down at the sea. Her heart somersaulted. She wanted so desperately to go to him and might have done so, were it not for the instinct that was warning her against it. She stood where she was, allowing many minutes to tick by. She remembered him once telling her where he had been when Michelle had told him she was pregnant and leaving – somewhere on the south coast of England, on a cliff, overlooking the sea. She wondered if he was thinking of that now, and smarting at the bitter irony of the similitude.
She watched as he turned and came towards the house. A cowardly streak tried to make her shrink back and go hide in the bedroom, but she forced herself to remain where she was. Hiding from each other wasn’t going to help, if anything it would only make things worse.
As he came closer she could see he hadn’t slept, nor had he shaved or changed his clothes. She’d have given anything in her power to spare him this, and silently berated the cruelty of fate that had driven her to cause so much hurt to someone she loved so much. He was looking at her now, and her heart was thudding as he came to the open door.
‘Just tell me this,’ he said, his face hard with anger, his eyes suffused with confusion and pain. ‘Why did you choose now to tell me, when you could have done it last week, before the wedding?’
She wished she knew what he wanted her to say so she could give him that comfort, but all she had was the truth. ‘I wanted to …’ she began. ‘But I couldn’t find the courage and …’ Her voice faltered and despite how determined she was to hold herself together, she could feel herself starting to break. ‘I didn’t know how to tell you and … and everyone was there … They were all looking forward so much to the wedding, so were you … I didn’t know what to do … And I love you, Michael …’
‘But you had to know I wouldn’t have married you if I’d known about this,’ he spat.
His words cut through her heart. ‘No, I didn’t know,’ she said.
‘Like hell!’ he raged. ‘You knew all right, it’s why you kept it to yourself. Because you had it all worked out, didn’t you? You knew what you were doing and to hell with the rest of us. Jesus Christ, what kind of woman are you?’
‘Michael, please …’
‘You know what’s really galling me right now?’ he cut in. ‘It’s that Sandy Paull was right about you. God knows, I didn’t want to believe her, but boy was she right? And what a goddamned, mindless fucking moron I was not to have seen it for myself. She had you sussed from the word go …’
‘I can’t believe you’re saying this!’ she cried. ‘Sandy Paull’s got nothing …’
‘She told me about the lunch you had with her,’ he shouted across her. ‘The lunch you told me you never understood. You remember that one, don’t you? The one back before I moved to LA? Sure you remember it. How could you ever forget when it proved such a triumph?’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. Michael, you’re …’
His head came forward as his eyes blazed with fury. ‘It was at that lunch,’ he spat, ‘that you gave her all the information she needed on World Wide so she could pass it on to Forgon. You were helping her to bring me down in London so’s you could get me to the States. It was what Forgon set you up to do, and you had, how many grand was it, resting on your success? So tell me, did you get it? Did he pay you? I mean, I came, didn’t I? You got me there. So did the bastard cough up?’ He hit a hand to his head. ‘What a fucking asshole,’ he seethed, ‘’cos I’ve got to tell you, Ellen, I had no idea. See, I thought you loved me. I thought I was coming to the US so’s you and I could be together and make something of World Wide – together. I thought we were going to get married and have a fam–’ He stopped, and she could see from the way his mouth was pinched how close he was to tears.
‘I didn’t realize what a fucking power freak you are,’ he suddenly shouted. ‘I never even guessed it, until Sandy told me. And even then I wouldn’t let myself believe it. Jesus Holy Christ, how blind can a man be?’
‘Michael, stop! You’re wrong about all this,’ she said, her voice choked with tears. ‘I don’t know what Sandy told you, but she’s lying. You know she’s a liar …’
‘What I know is what you told me last night,’ he seethed. ‘And it all fits together. You want control, don’t you, Ellen? Of me. The movie. World Wide. Where the fuck is it going to end? Is there anything, or any of us, that you don’t want to control? You’re all chummy chummy with Forgon again lately, and what a coincidence that is, now the statute of limitations is about to expire on him screwing an underage girl. He’ll be back in charge any time now, so where are you? In his fucking pocket again, that’s where. So tell me, what kind of bargain are you striking up this time? You want my job? Is that it? Are you sleeping with Forgon to get it, the way you slept with Chambers to get rid of Michelle?’
‘Michael, you don’t mean any of this! You know it’s not true …’
‘You slept with Chambers to get rid of Michelle,’ he yelled. ‘And now you’re carrying his child …’
‘No! I slept with him because I caught you screwing Michelle!’ she yelled back. ‘So face some responsibility here. We both made mistakes …’
‘Responsibility!’ he laughed incredulously. ‘I didn’t sleep with the man, and I’m not the one who’s pregnant. So if there’s any responsibility around here it’s all yours. In fact, as far as I can see, catching me with Michelle turned out to be a pretty convenient excuse for you, because God knows you’ve had the hots for that man ever since you laid eyes on him. So how long has it been going on? Just what kind of a jackass were you trying to make of me? I mean you got me to marry you …’
‘I love you!’ she yelled furiously. ‘And I’ve never been unfaithful to you except that one time, after I caught you screwing Michelle in our house, when you had to know I would walk in any minute. So what the hell was going on inside your head that night? Were you thinking about me? Were you hell! You were thinking about you and how you still can’t get over the woman who walked out on you all those years ago. It makes you feel big to screw her, doesn’t it? It puts you back on top. And who the hell am I while you’re doing it? I begged you not to let her stay in the house, but you overruled me. It wasn’t going to suit you for her to stay somewhere else, was it? You had to show her you had another woman now, and her son, and we were all getting along just fine without her. Except we’re not, because you still want her, and so does Robbie. So where do I fit in? There’s no room in there for me. And answer me this, what if Michelle was the one who was pregnant right now? You’d have left me at the altar, wouldn’t you? You wouldn’t have cared less about me.’
‘But Michelle’s not the one who’s pregnant, is she?’ he shot back. ‘You are. And unless I’m gravely mistaken you’re expecting me to pass another man’s child off as if it were mine. Well, dream on, Ellen, because it’s just not going to happen.’
As she watched him walk away she felt her stomach starting to churn, and knowing she was about to throw up she ran back to the bathroom. As she bent over the sink she prayed to God that he wouldn’t hear her, it would be too cruel a reminder, too harsh a proof, for right now.
A few minutes later she was sitting on the edge of the bath, wiping the sweat from her face and waiting for her heartbeat to slow. This was the first time she’d been sick since the morning of the wedding, and she could only hope that it wasn’t going to turn into a daily event. She had yet to see a doctor to confirm how far along she was, but as she knew already that it was either eight or nine weeks she hadn’t seen the point in getting the nightmare confirmed. But of course she’d have to, when they got back, and knowing that she would be going alone was too horrible to bear.
She looked at her wedding band and felt her heart recoil from the jolt of emotion. This was how it was going to be from now on, trying to deal with the pain and self-pity, the terrible regret and inability to ch
ange things. It wasn’t something that was going to go away, or get solved in a matter of days, or cured by the right medication. She was going to have to live with this, day in, day out, with no escape and no way of knowing until the baby was born exactly who the father was. She thought of Tom and how he would take it when she told him. It wasn’t hard to imagine him supporting her and standing by her in a way Michael couldn’t, after all he wasn’t the one she’d betrayed, but already she could feel herself rejecting him, because even if he was the father, he wasn’t the man she loved.
Hoping a shower might make her feel stronger, she turned on the water and stripped off the clothes she’d worn all night. As she soaped herself she tried not to wonder if she and Michael would ever shower together again, or make love, or kiss or even sleep in the same bed, for the dread they might not was too hard to face. But surely to God he wasn’t just going to leave her. He was angry now, and hurt and confused, but once he calmed down he would see how wrong he was in the conclusions he had drawn: that she wasn’t the power-crazed manipulator Sandy Paull had accused her of being, that she had never given Sandy any information on World Wide, nor had she slept with Tom in order to get Michelle off the movie. It was exactly what Ted Forgon had advised her to do, but that was Forgon’s answer to everything. It was a bitter pill to accept that it had worked, but no matter what was going on in her subconscious that night, getting rid of Michelle hadn’t been her driving reason for sleeping with Tom.
But what did it matter what her reasons were? It was done, and the consequences must now be lived with. There wasn’t only their marriage to think of, there was the movie too, and as deeply as she feared the direction Michael might now take, she knew that however much it was going to hurt her she had somehow to persuade him to talk so that decisions could be made.
The sun was high in the sky when she finally went in search of him. He was nowhere in the house, nor was he down on the beach, but the car was still there, so she guessed he must have gone for a walk. She hoped it would calm him, and give him the chance to see that their marriage wasn’t only about their love for each other, but many other things as well, and most particularly of all right now, to work out how they were going to overcome the mistakes they had made that had resulted in this.