Obsession

by Susan Lewis

  In the end she selected some shots of the type of knife that had probably been used, some coils of rope and one rear shot of a prostitute who was tied up into the foetal position. Unless she was instructed otherwise she didn’t want to use any shots of their faces – the only part of their bodies that had not been slashed by the knife. With the terror printed indelibly in their eyes it seemed an unforgivable intrusion, and would, she was very much afraid, incite some latent psychopath to try his own hand at forcing such an expression.

  She spent the rest of the day with the editor, piecing together the interviews they had shot over the past two weeks. At midday she called Annalise, but as the phone was ringing Annalise walked into the office. There was a heated argument going on at the time between Alan Fox and Cindy Thompson, who were working on a programme about the recent clash between church and government. Corrie was paying very little attention, but Annalise, looking infinitely better than Corrie had seen her for some time, entered into the affray the minute she walked in the door and very soon had everyone laughing.

  ‘You’re looking mightily pleased with yourself,’ Corrie remarked when Annalise came to perch on the edge of her desk. Now that summer had arrived Annalise was wearing even shorter skirts than usual, without tights, and Corrie glanced a touch wistfully at her slender brown thighs.

  ‘And why shouldn’t I be?’ Annalise asked. ‘No don’t answer that, because you’re angry with me that I didn’t turn up this morning. Well, I’m here now, at your disposal. What do you want me to do?’

  ‘You could go and view the editing we did this morning,’ Corrie answered, ‘and the shots I’ve selected from the police stuff. Grant has them all lined up.’ She laughed as Annalise threw her arms around her and planted a loud kiss on her cheek.

  ‘Thank you,’ she whispered in Corrie’s ear.

  ‘What for?’ Corrie asked.

  Annalise shrugged. ‘For being you,’ and she skipped off across the office towards the edit suite. As Corrie watched her go she was frowning. She hadn’t missed the bitter smell of alcohol on Annalise’s breath.

  Corrie and Annalise had been at Luke’s apartment since seven o’clock, the time he’d told them to arrive, but as yet, there was no sign of anyone else. It was now past eight o’clock and Corrie was starting to feel lightheaded after two martinis on an empty stomach.

  The hour had, in fact, passed quite pleasantly, until some five minutes ago when Corrie had got up from the sofa to go and look at an oil painting Luke had bought a couple of days before. At the same time Annalise had gone to the bathroom. Almost before she knew what was happening Luke had taken Corrie in his arms and was kissing her. For a moment or two Corrie found herself kissing him back, but then, hearing the bathroom door unlock she all but leapt away from him. Whether Annalise had noticed the guilty flush on her cheeks, Corrie didn’t know, though she doubted it – Annalise would have been sure to say something if she had.

  Now Corrie was in the drawing room alone, but from where she was sitting she could see Annalise and Luke in the kitchen together. He was whispering something to her and Annalise kept giggling, which was making Corrie feel more than a little uncomfortable. After a while she looked at them again, but turned away quickly as Luke met her eyes while slipping a hand between Annalise’s legs.

  Corrie turned hot with embarrassment and anger. The invitation to a cocktail party, she realized, was a sham. He had used it as an excuse to get them both into his apartment, and once there, into his bed. Well he could think again if he thought she was going to take part in his perverted sex games because she was leaving right this minute. Which she would have, had there not been a ring on the door bell, announcing the arrival of more guests.

  While Luke went to let them in Annalise remained in the kitchen, and seeing her bend over to retrieve her knickers from her ankles, Corrie discreetly closed the door. She was half smiling to herself now, mainly with relief that she had been wrong in her surmise of the situation. But her relief was shattered the instant the new arrivals walked into the room.

  She recognized her father immediately, as, from the expression of horror on his face, he did her. Corrie spun towards Luke, but he was already embracing the woman who had come in with Phillip. On the brink of panic Corrie looked at her father again, but though his face had paled he seemed to have himself back in control again.

  ‘Corrie,’ Luke said, taking her by the arm, ‘let me introduce you to Phillip and Octavia Denby. Phillip and Octavia, this is Corrie Browne, TW’s brightest and best researcher.’

  Corrie’s mind was in chaos. Surely Luke must know that this was her father. That the stupendously beautiful woman with him was her stepmother. Or did he? He certainly gave no sign of knowing, and Corrie just couldn’t remember if she’d ever told him her father’s name. Luke was looking at her now as if baffled by her reluctance to shake hands, and there was a smile in his eyes, as though encouraging her not to be shy.

  Somehow Corrie managed to shake her father’s hand. Both of them narrowly avoided eye contact, and Corrie could sense from his voice that he was as nervous as she was. Then it was time to shake Octavia’s hand, and as Corrie turned towards her her heart suddenly froze with the shock of seeing such naked hunger in Octavia’s eyes as she looked at Luke. My God! Corrie thought, surely he can’t be screwing her too. Unable to stop herself Corrie glanced at her father, wondering if he too had noticed the look, but Phillip was already turning to the cocktail cabinet.

  ‘It’s very nice to meet you, Corrie,’ Octavia was saying, and as Corrie felt her hand encircled by the slim, delicate fingers, and looked into the coldest blue eyes she’d ever seen, she almost felt herself recoil. Never would she have believed that beauty could be such an offence to the eyes, but it was; for the flawless, alabaster face looking so absurdly large on the stick-like neck, was so devoid of animation or warmth it could only be described as grotesque. Then suddenly Octavia was smiling – a smile designed not to crease her skin – and it was a second or two before Corrie realized it wasn’t at her. Corrie turned to look behind her and suddenly it was as though the whole world had gone mad.

  ‘Mummy, Daddy,’ Annalise cried, coming across the room to embrace them.

  Corrie took a step back. She was reeling. She felt faint, needed to sit down, better still to run away, but she could barely move. She turned to Luke again. There was nothing in his manner to suggest that he knew what was going on, he wasn’t even looking in her direction. If only she could remember whether she had told him Phillip’s name. Surely she must have, somewhere along the line, but if she had then why had he never said that he knew Phillip?

  No, it was nothing more than a coincidence, she told herself, a terrible coincidence … But dear God, if Phillip was Annalise’s father, that could only mean that she, Corrie, was … No, she couldn’t think about it now. It was too much to take in. Again she looked at her father, and only then did it occur to her, that on top of everything else he was also her employer. He was Luke’s partner – the man whose name, she realized now, had never been mentioned in her hearing, and whose name she had stupidly never thought to ask.

  As if in a daze Corrie watched as Phillip handed his wife a drink, then turned back for his own. Taking a sip he settled himself in a chair beside the stereo, and seemed to absorb himself in the music. Behind her Annalise, Octavia and Luke were standing in front of the oil painting discussing its merits, so not knowing what else to do Corrie sat down on the sofa.

  Somehow she managed to get through the next half an hour, but it was one of the worst half hours she’d ever had to endure. Keeping a check on her emotions was proving almost impossible, for as she watched her father from the corner of her eye, she could see quite plainly, from his jerky movements and the sweat on his brow, that he was deeply upset by her presence. Instead of feeling angry or sickened by the way he was behaving, she felt saddened by it. Just that one brief introduction to Octavia was enough for Corrie to guess at how intolerable his life must be married to some
one like her; since they’d arrived Octavia’s only acknowledgement that he was in the room had been a sneery smile when Luke had asked him, ‘how’s tricks?’

  Phillip’s answer had sounded confident enough, as he told Luke about a meeting he’d had that day with his nephew, the TW accountant, but the moment Luke returned his attention to Octavia Phillip had seemed to withdraw back into himself. Did he know, Corrie wondered again, that Luke was sleeping with his wife? It seemed blatantly obvious to her, but right now Phillip seemed more intent on avoiding any kind of communication with her. She wished she could reassure him that she had no intention of telling anyone who she was, but of course it was unthinkable. If only he didn’t look so alone though, so utterly confined in the loneliness of his weak man’s world. But he had Annalise, Corrie reminded herself, and any fool could see how much he doted on her. Nevertheless, after their initial greeting Phillip had appeared awkward with Annalise too, as though he was afraid she was going to hurt him in some way, and despite the fact that he was a big man Corrie could only watch helplessly as he very nearly cowered into his chair like a whipped puppy. For a moment she was almost overcome by the urge to shake him, to tell him to act like a man, but at the same time she couldn’t help wondering why he was so afraid.

  She turned her attention to the others again, watching Octavia with mounting revulsion. She was pawing Luke’s arm as she asked him and Annalise all about the prostitute programme, and from the way her eyes were glittering Corrie could tell that she was already more than a little aroused. Corrie was very tempted at that point to describe in graphic detail the shots she had viewed earlier that day, just to shut Octavia up, but judged it better to remain silent for now.

  It was no wonder, Corrie was thinking to herself, that Annalise was so unstable in her emotions when she had parents like these. Octavia wasn’t even subtle about the way she was trying to capture all Luke’s attention, and as they smiled deeply into each other’s eyes, deliberately shutting Annalise out, Annalise, clearly as hurt as she was bewildered, fought bravely to make him notice her again. But each time she succeeded Octavia was ready.

  ‘Just imagine,’ she drawled now, ‘having someone pay you for the privilege of fucking you.’

  Corrie barely had time to be amazed by such a profane word coming out of such a clinical mouth before Octavia said something that shocked her beyond words.

  ‘I’d just love to be bending over with a stranger’s cock right up my cunt, and all the time look at the money he’s left on the table.’

  Corrie’s head spun towards Phillip. Slumped in his chair as he was, he seemed not to have heard, but Annalise had.

  ‘Mummy!’ she declared, her face on fire, ‘that’s disgusting. I’ve never heard you talk like that before.’

  From the look passing between Octavia and Luke, it was quite evident that Luke had.

  ‘I’m sorry, darling,’ Octavia was saying, patting Annalise’s cheek. ‘But you have to remember, sweetheart, that mothers are human too. Still, it was quite unforgivable to say such a thing in front of you, and I apologize.’

  ‘I think you should apologize to Daddy too,’ Annalise retorted. ‘And Corrie. You’ve really embarrassed her.’

  Octavia turned to Corrie with a look of mild surprise. ‘Oh, but I’m sure Corrie’s heard it all before,’ she remarked smoothly.

  Corrie felt like she was in the middle of a nightmare, and wanted nothing more than to get out of there. Obviously Octavia was letting her know that she knew about her relationship with Luke, but why? She was a vindictive bitch, that was for sure, the way she was treating her own daughter more than proved that. But what about the way she was treating her husband, pathetic cuckold that he was, sitting there huddled into his chair? And if Octavia knew so much about Corrie’s relationship with Luke, did she also know about her own relationship to Corrie? Somehow Corrie didn’t think so. The person pulling all the strings here, she felt sure, was Luke. He was sleeping with them all – Octavia, Annalise and Corrie. But what was he trying to prove by bringing them all here together like this? Suddenly Corrie’s eyes rounded, and she turned slowly towards her father as the realization of what was happening started to dawn on her. She had no idea why Luke should want to humiliate Phillip like this, but there was little doubt in her mind that that was exactly what was going on.

  Phillip’s eyes flickered towards her, but seeing her looking at him he turned quickly away. Octavia’s falsetto laugh suddenly grated through Corrie’s ears, and when Corrie turned back she felt a near overriding nausea rush to her throat. Octavia was pressed so closely to Luke’s arm that Annalise couldn’t see the tiny, bejewelled hand carressing his buttocks, but Corrie could. So too could Phillip, if he’d cared to look. This grotesque pantomime was insufferable, and all Corrie wanted was to get outside, away from the overpowering stench of Octavia’s perfume and breathe some fresh air into her lungs.

  She was already on her feet when the doorbell rang again. Immediately Corrie looked at Luke, hardly daring to imagine what more chicanery was to come. As he turned his back on Octavia and Annalise he rolled his eyes at Corrie, then went to answer the door. A few minutes later several people, all as immaculately dressed as Phillip and Octavia, filed in, and at last Phillip got up from his chair. Corrie could hardly believe the transformation in him as he greeted the newcomers, and started to mingle with all the confidence one might expect of a successful businessman who knew his importance in the world.

  However, he continued to avoid Corrie like the plague, which upset Corrie more than she wanted to admit, for she was becoming increasingly aware, through the thin crowd, that Luke and Octavia were whispering, looking in her direction, then laughing. She was horribly unnerved by it, and found herself wishing that she could turn to Phillip for reassurance, after all he was her father. But she knew that she stood even less chance of success there than Annalise was having in trying to detach her mother from Luke. Watching him now Corrie was even more bitterly disappointed in Phillip than she had been the first time she met him, and for some reason this made her want to cry. He was letting both her and Annalise down, seemed to care nothing for what either of them might be suffering, yet somehow Corrie knew, that as oblivious as he wanted to appear to it, he wasn’t. It was distressing him too, but even so he was going to do nothing to comfort either of them. She started to notice then, the furtive glances he kept throwing in Luke’s direction. This had the effect of convincing Corrie even more that there was something going on between them that went far deeper than a mere power struggle, which was what she had assumed it to be at first.

  ‘Do you think my mother’s having an affair with Luke?’

  Corrie turned round to find Annalise looking up at her with stricken eyes. Instantly Corrie’s heart turned over. She’s my sister, Corrie was thinking, my own flesh and blood. And she’s such a child still. But what the hell could she do to comfort her? How could she even begin to explain to Annalise what was going on when she didn’t even know herself? It was likely that Annalise sensed something too, something beyond her mother’s outrageous behaviour, though Corrie doubted very much that Annalise would even want it put into words. All she wanted was to be reassured. It was all, in her fragile state of mind, she could handle. But the tragedy of it was that Corrie could sense only too well the desperate need inside her. Annalise wanted to be loved. To feel that she mattered to someone more than anyone else in the world, and God help her, she had chosen a man like Luke to do it.

  For a moment Corrie was so close to tears that she couldn’t answer, then seeing the panic her silence had evoked in Annalise she smiled, lifted a hand to Annalise’s cheek and lied.

  ‘No,’ she said softly, ‘I don’t think so. But what I do think is that you are paranoid where Luke is concerned.’

  It was what Annalise wanted to hear, just the look on her face told Corrie that, but what Corrie had to decide now was what she was going to do about getting him out of their lives. And, if she could, find out what was going on bet
ween him and her father. There might well be nothing she could do about that, but she wanted at least to try, for as improbable as it might seem now, she was already harbouring a hope that one day, if only in a small way, she, Phillip and Annalise could become a family.

  The next morning Corrie rang the office to say she would be in late, then settling herself down for what she knew would be a lengthy conversation with Paula, she reached out for the phone. As she did it rang. To her amazement it was her father.

  ‘I’d like you to meet me tomorrow night,’ he said. ‘I’ll be at the Man in the Moon pub at World’s End. If you can, be there at eight thirty, if not I’ll wait,’ and before Corrie could utter a word he rang off.

  Still somewhat dazed by the abrupt call Corrie dialled Paula’s number. It took quite some time to tell her all that had happened the night before, but the fact that her father had just called Corrie decided to hold back for the time being.

  ‘I don’t believe it,’ Paula said in a hushed voice when Corrie had finished. ‘I just don’t believe it. My God, it must have blown your mind.’

  ‘It did,’ Corrie answered, ‘but the question is, what am I going to do about it?’

  ‘I don’t know. I mean, do you think Luke knows?’

  ‘I can’t be sure. To be honest, I had so much to drink that first evening we went out, I don’t remember what I told him.’

  ‘Then I think you should confront him, ask him.’

  ‘That’s what I thought at first. But if he doesn’t know that Phillip’s my father, then quite frankly, I don’t want him to know.’

  ‘But you think there’s something going on between him and Phillip, you said? That would suggest that he does know about you. I mean the way he lined you all up in front of Phillip … God, it’s sick!’