Numbers and email addresses were exchanged with various girls whom she had known on a purely superficial basis.
When she tentatively volunteered the information that she would find it tough financially because she had no family to help her out if she started going under, there were no gasps of horror. When she confessed to a couple of the girls that she loved pro bono work because, growing up on a council estate, she had seen misery first-hand and had always wanted to do something about it, they hadn’t walked away, smirking. They had been interested.
By the end of the evening, she had drunk more than she had intended but had also made friends in unexpected places.
Had she made a mistake in erecting so many protective defence mechanisms around her that she had failed to let anyone in? Had her cool distance been a liability in the end, rather than an asset? Had her detachment, which had been put in place for all the right reasons, become a habit which had imprisoned her more firmly than the solid steel bars of a prison cell?
Her thoughts were muddled and all over the place when, at a little after nine, she hailed a black cab to take her back to her house. When she closed her eyes and rested her head back on the seat, she could see Alessandro, a vibrant image hovering in the deepest recesses of her mind.
She had told him bits and pieces of the truth. Was that sufficient? An enormous sense of lassitude washed over her when she thought about the rest of what had been left unsaid.
So, nothing would change. He would still despise her. He would still be repelled by the person he thought she had turned out to be, but wouldn’t she feel better in herself? Wouldn’t coming clean, laying all her cards on the table, leave her with a clear conscience when she walked away? And wouldn’t a clear conscience be a far better companion when she lay down in her bed at night and allowed thoughts of him to proliferate in her head?
She had given away more of herself today with her colleagues than she had in all the years she had worked alongside them, and it had felt good.
She leant forward, told the cab driver to turn around and gave him Alessandro’s address.
She had no idea whether he would be in or not. It was a Friday night and face it, he was once again a free, single and eligible guy who might very well have jumped back on the sexual merry-go-round.
The alcohol had given her Dutch courage. Even as the taxi pulled up outside his magnificent house, her nerves didn’t start going into automatic meltdown. She had reached a point of realising that she had nothing left to lose.
Her hand only shook a little as she reached for the doorbell and pressed hard, the very same way he had pressed her doorbell when he had walked in on Brian depleting her house of all its worldly goods.
* * *
On his third whisky, Alessandro heard the distant peal of his doorbell and debated whether he should bother getting it or not. A package was due to be delivered by courier. Work related. Could he really be bothered?
His torpor exasperated him but it had dogged his every waking moment ever since he had walked out of her house. Try as he might, he hadn’t been able to shake it. The confines of his opulent office had felt restricting. He had found himself avoiding it, not caring what his secretary thought, going to the shelter practically every day.
It was Friday night and, whilst his head told him that it was time to get back on the horse, to find a replacement for the woman with whom he should never have become entangled all over again, his feet had brought him right back to his house and towards the drinks cabinet. A bracing evening diet of whisky and soda had felt eminently more tempting than shallow conversation with the airheads and bimbos who would circle him at the slightest given opportunity.
Of course, there was a limit to how long this crazy state of affairs could continue. Swearing softly under his breath, and with the glass of whisky still in his hand, he strolled to the front door and pulled it open. On his lips were a few select curses for whatever imbecile of a courier had had the temerity to keep his finger on the buzzer when he, Alessandro, was in the process of working his way down to the bottom of his glass, through which he hoped to see the world as an altogether rosier place.
‘Alessandro. You’re...’ Any hint of incipient nerves flew through the window at the sight of an Alessandro who, for the first time ever, did not seem to be completely in control of all his faculties. ‘Are you drunk?’
Alessandro leaned against the doorframe and swallowed back the remnants of whisky in his glass. ‘What are you doing here at this hour? It’s after nine. And I’m not drunk.’
The woman he had walked away from. He tried to think of all the pejorative adjectives that had sprung so easily to mind when he had last seen her. Before he had endured the most hellish week of his entire life. Where the hell had his bullish confidence gone about the fact that she was not worth his while? And where had she been anyway? He checked his watch and saw that it was actually a little before ten. Had she been out partying? A tidal wave of jealousy left him shaken.
‘Living it up, Chase?’ His mouth twisted as he focused on the much less prim and proper attire she was wearing, a fitted burgundy dress rather than her uniform of suits which was all he had ever seen her in for work.
‘I know you’re probably surprised to see me here. Shocked, even.’ Although there was a glass in his hand and it was empty. Had he company? A woman? Chase refused to let that thought take shape and gain momentum.
Alessandro noticed that she had neatly avoided answering his question. He shouldn’t even care. In fact, hadn’t he made his mind up that he wanted nothing further to do with her? That he could never trust a woman who had lied to him? Hadn’t he? ‘What are you doing here? Thought you might pay a little social call? On your way back from wherever you’ve been out partying?’
So his mood hadn’t changed. He was still hostile and contemptuous, still ready to attack. ‘I haven’t been out partying, Alessandro. I... It was my last day at work today. There was champagne at the office, that’s all. I...I’ve come because there are some things I still need to say to you.’
So she had just been cooped up at the office. He felt some of his dark mood evaporate. She had more to say to him? Well, why not? The choice was either that or the rest of the whisky to keep him company. He turned on his heels, leaving the door open and Chase, after a few seconds’ hesitation, followed him into the house.
CHAPTER TEN
SHE FOLLOWED HIM into the sitting room and immediately spotted the bottle of whisky, which was half-empty.
‘How much of this stuff have you drunk?’ she gasped in amazement.
‘I think it’s safe to say that my drinking habits are none of your business.’ The burgundy dress lovingly clung to her body and outlined curves in all the right places. He could feel himself getting turned on and he scowled because the last thing he needed was his wilful body doing its own thing. He subsided on the sofa, legs apart, his body language aggressively, defensively masculine.
‘So, what are you here for?’ he demanded, following her with a glowering expression as she hesitated by the door. He watched broodingly as she took a deep breath and walked to one of the pale-cream leather chairs by the fireplace, a modern built-into-the-wall affair which she had variously claimed to have both loved and detested.
‘I didn’t ask,’ Chase said in a thin voice. ‘But is someone here with you?’
‘Is someone here with me? Does it look like I have company?’ He gestured to the empty room.
‘You’re drinking, Alessandro...’ She nodded to the whisky bottle which bore witness to her statement. ‘And since when do you drink on your own? Especially spirits. Didn’t you once tell me that drinking spirits on your own was a sign of an alcoholic in the making? Didn’t you tell me that your parents put you off giving in to vices like that in a big way? That they were a bigger warning against drinking, smoking and taking drugs than any lect
ure anyone could have given you?’
Alessandro’s expression darkened. ‘And since when are you my guilty conscience?’ he demanded belligerently. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. It felt as though he hadn’t seen her in a hundred years and, whilst he knew that that certainly wasn’t a healthy situation given the fact that she had been dispatched from his life, he still couldn’t help himself, and that helplessness made him feel even more of a sad loser.
‘I’m not.’ Chase stared down at her entwined fingers in silence for a couple of seconds. Now that she was here, sitting in front of him, the nerves which had been absent on her trip over were gathering pace inside her. She had come to tell him how she felt but her moment of bravery was in danger of passing. She wasn’t his guilty conscience. She was nothing to him. She was surprised that he hadn’t slammed the door in her face, and she took some courage from the fact that he hadn’t.
‘I’ve...I’ve...managed to get a couple of leads on some promising jobs,’ she heard herself saying, a propos nothing in particular. ‘Out of London. One in Manchester. The other in Surrey. I guess I’ll sell my place and move sticks. It’ll be cheaper, anyway. I would probably be able to afford something bigger.’
‘And you’ve come here to tell me this because...?’
‘I haven’t come here to tell you that. I just thought... Well...’
‘Get to the point, Chase.’ When he thought of her leaving London, he felt as though a band of pure ice had wrapped itself around his heart like the tenacious tendrils of creeping ivy.
She sprang to her feet and began walking restively around the room. It was a big room. The colours were pale and muted, from the colour of the walls to the soft leather furniture. It was modern and, when she had first seen it, she hadn’t, been able to decide whether she liked it or not. Certainly, right at this very moment, it chilled her to the bone, but then wasn’t that just her fear and trepidation taking its toll? The hard contours of his face spoke volumes for his lack of welcome. He might not have slammed the door in her face but he clearly didn’t want her in his house. She felt that little thread of courage begin to seep slowly away.
‘Do you remember that...that day, Alessandro?’
‘Be specific. What day in particular are you talking about? The day you lied about the fact that you were a happily married woman, or the day you lied about the fact that the loving parents in Australia were a work of fiction...?’
Chase fought against the sneering coolness in his voice and sat back down, this time on the sofa with him, but at the furthest end of it.
‘We met at that pub. Do you remember? The one by the park?’
He remembered. He could even remember what she had been wearing. It came to him with such vivid clarity that he almost thought that it had been lying in wait for eight years, just at the edges of his memory: a pair of very faded jeans, some plimsolls which had once been white but were scuffed way past their original colour and a light-blue jumper, the sleeves of which were long enough for her to tuck her hands inside them. Which she had done as she had delivered her blow.
‘I told you about Shaun.’
‘Believe me, I haven’t forgotten that special moment in my life.’
‘Please don’t be sarcastic, Alessandro. This is really hard for me. I just want you to listen, because you were right when you said that we had unfinished business between us. We did. And, for me at least, we still have until you hear me out. Or, rather, I still do....’
The palms of her hands felt sweaty and she smoothed them over the burgundy dress. ‘Eight years ago, I fell in love with you.’ She braved his silent stare and willed herself to continue. ‘I was married and, believe me, I shouldn’t have looked at you, far less spoken to you, but I did. You have no idea what you did for me. Being with you was like being free for the first time in my life. I finally understood what all those silly romance novels were all about.’
Alessandro frowned. This was hardly the direction he’d expected the conversation to go in. ‘If you’re hoping to pull on my heart strings, then you’re barking up the wrong tree. I have perfect recall of your little speech to me. It involved you telling me that Shaun was the great love of your life, that it had been fun seeing me, but you were only in it for some help with work...hoped I didn’t get the wrong idea. I’m recalling the moment you waved your wedding ring in my face and pulled out a photo of your loved one.’
‘Yes.’
‘So where are you going with this, exactly? Why have you come here to waste my time?’ Another shot of whisky would have gone down a treat but he did remember what he had said to her about his parents teaching him the horrors of having no control, by example.
‘I was an idiot when I married Shaun...’ Chase stared absently into the distance. ‘I was incredibly young and it seemed like an exciting thing to do. Or...or maybe not, thinking about it now. Shaun told me it would be an exciting thing to do and I went along with it because I had already figured out that it didn’t pay to disagree with anything he said.’
‘Watch out. You’re in danger of wiping some of the shine from your blissfully joyous married life.’
‘There was never any shine on it, and I wasn’t blissfully married,’ Chase told him abruptly. She refocused on his face to find him watching her carefully. When she thought about the horror that had been her married life with Shaun, she wanted to cry for those wasted years, but the self-control she had built up over the years stood her in good stead.
Alessandro found that he was holding his breath. ‘Another lie, Chase?’ But he wanted to hear what she had to say even though he told himself that he wasn’t going to fall for anything she told him. Once bitten, twice shy.
‘I haven’t come here to try and make you believe me, Alessandro,’ Chase said with quiet sincerity. ‘I know you probably won’t anyway. I know I’ve lied to you in the past and you’ll never forgive me. You’ve made that crystal-clear. I’m here because I need to tell you everything. And, when I’m finished, I’ll walk out that door and you’ll never see me again.
‘When I met you for the first time, I began something that was dangerous, although you weren’t to know that. I’ve thought about what you said, about Shaun hitching his wagon to me because he knew that he would be able to go further with me shackled to his side. I think you were right, although at the time I didn’t see it that way. By the time I made it to university, I’d lost the ability to think independently. My studies were the only thing keeping me going. We’d come to London and I had been taken away from my friends, from everything I knew, although I guess you would find “everything I knew” hardly worth knowing anyway. Shaun was in his element. I was married to him and he was in complete control, and he enjoyed making sure he exercised that control.’
‘What are you telling me?’
‘I’m telling you that I was an abused wife. The sort of pathetic woman you would find contemptible. The sort of woman who can really understand how all those women at Beth’s shelter feel. Why do you imagine I have such empathy for them?’
‘When you say abused...?’
‘Physically, mentally, emotionally. Shaun was never fussy when it came to laying down laws. He used whatever methods suited him at the time.’ She tilted her chin defiantly. She had come to say her piece and he could save his contempt for after she’d left. That was what her expression was telling him.
‘He was very clever when it came to making sure he hurt me in ways that weren’t visible. He let me out of his sight to attend lectures and tutorials but I was under orders to return home immediately, not to hang around and certainly never to cultivate any sort of friendship with any of the other students. I was just glad to be out of his presence. Anything was better than nothing and, besides, I thrived on the academic work. I found it all ridiculously easy.
‘One of the first things I’m going to do when I leave London is to find the teachers
who encouraged me and tell them how valuable their input was.’ She made sure that he got the message that she wasn’t looking for anything from him, that she was moving on, that she had her independence, whatever her story was.
‘You say you were...in love with me. Why didn’t you leave him?’ Because, Alessandro thought, I was certainly head over heels in love with you. I would have protected you.
It was the first time he had ever really and truly given that notion house room and, now that he had, everything seemed to fall neatly into place. The manner in which she had departed from his life had altered his view of women and had, more profoundly, altered the sort of women he went out with. He had developed a healthy mistrust of anything that remotely smelled of commitment and had programmed every single relationship he’d had to fail by systematically dating women in whom he was destined to lose interest after very short periods of time. In the wake of losing his heart to a woman who had deceived him, he had simply pressed the self-destruct button inside him.
And then she had returned to his life under extraordinary circumstances. He had held her to ransom and told himself that he was exacting revenge. In fact, he had told himself a lot of things. The one single thing he had failed to tell himself—because he could see now that he just couldn’t have brought himself to even think it—was that he still wanted her because, quite simply, he was still in love with her.
Chase sensed the infinitesimal shift in him. Was it too much to ask that he at least believed her?
‘I couldn’t,’ she said, flushing. ‘I’ve become very independent over the years. It’s been so important for me to stand on my own two feet, to give nothing of myself to anyone, to make sure that no one had control over me. But back then there was no way that I had the inner strength to try and escape. He had sapped me of all my confidence. Anyway...’
Enthralled by Moretti Page 17