by S M Mala
‘You’re not very nice,’ he eventually said. ‘Knowing all along you had the winning hand.’
‘I was hoping to produce it at the end of next year.’
‘And saying I was having a ‘racist revenge fuck’ was very hurtful,’ he said quietly, agitation spreading across his face. ‘That’s insulting!’
‘And so are you. You probably have the token Asian or black friend to give you street cred and they’re probably not working in factory for minimum pay either, are they?’ she said knowing they would probably be having a quarrel in less than ten minutes based on his current expression. ‘Of course it was revenge because you based it on the colour of my skin. The guilt is less because I’m ten years older than you. You know that probably didn’t count as sex!’ Sylvie started to laugh. ‘And I was under the covers after you sprinted out because I was upset. I sort of betrayed the memory of my husband for what? He was the last man who made love to me before I had a quickie with you.’ She sighed for a moment. ‘I, in my own way, thought that sleeping with you would remind me of the physical side of my husband, for some odd reason. I was very flattered to get the attention so I’m not being that mean as I had my own motives.’
‘Really?’ he said with a half a smile. ‘And sleeping with me would also mean you get revenge on my mother.’
‘Yes a revenge mother fuck!’ she laughed out which, in turn, made him laugh. ‘Look Fin, we’re never going to be the best of friends now you know I’m a business entrepreneur and a threat, but let’s try to get on.’
‘My mother said I’m not to help you or Piers, so it’s war.’
‘Personally, I don’t think that’s forward thinking, do you?’ She smiled for a moment and examined his face. ‘You’re not as good looking as Toby, to be honest, but you’re handsome.’
‘And this is you trying to be business like and professional?’ he smiled for a moment.
‘But you have a lovely smile and a wonderful laugh, so that’s your saving grace. And don’t use me as a verbal punch bag, okay? What you said about my husband and the date thing was very nasty Finlay Chambers, as it still hurts and I mourn the loss of that bastard, I really do because I loved him with all my heart and he loved me.’
Sylvie’s face instantly turned to stone to stop the tears from coming.
‘I’m sorry. You weren’t reacting and I was angry. You’re right. You’re not my punch bag.’
‘I’m an old bag,’ she laughed for a moment.
Again there was a pleasant silence in the room as she looked at him again.
‘If Julie had got rid of the baby and then you’d have found out it was yours, how would you have felt then?’ she asked quietly as he squinted. ‘What good would that have done?’
‘I don’t know and it’s Juliette,’ he shrugged. ‘She won’t take the tests and-.’
‘Do you know how dangerous it is for the baby? Twenty per cent of woman miscarry perfectly healthy babies because of the testing and that’s not right. You’re lucky she told you.’
‘Why?’
‘It’s less of a shock if you have a kid with the same colouring as me but they have deep tans in the south of France, don’t they?’
‘I’m not a racist,’ he said sitting up and swinging his legs off the bed so all she could see was his back. ‘I know you think you’ve summarised me in a nutshell.’
Sylvie sat up and rested her back against the head of the bed, watching him sit motionless, hands resting on his knees while sitting forward.
‘So what are you, if I’m wrong?’
‘I’m a man who wanted to know what it felt like to be with someone else you’re not married to and it didn’t feel good, that’s why I walked out. In my head I’m trying to figure out what I did wrong. She’s been having this affair and I didn’t know. If she hadn’t told me I’d be none the wiser. Maybe she doesn’t love me and-.’
‘She wants you back, doesn’t she?’ Sylvie said it very quietly, as not to force the issue. ‘If I didn’t love someone then I definitely wouldn’t want them back. That says it all to me. The woman made a mistake, something was wrong and she found solace in a chef.’ Biting her lip for a moment she leaned forward and stroked the back of his neck as he glanced at her. ‘I’m not trying to get rid of you but you need to sort it out with your wife. Festering isn’t going to help anything and there’s a baby. That’s very precious. She needs support, you know that. What good are you doing by being in London?’
Friday lunchtime he was back in his apartment but Juliette was nowhere to be found. He hadn’t told her about his visit and sat down with his laptop, looking through messages and started the process of checking through the company accounts of ‘Le Font’. Part of him knew he should go to their offices and the other part realised it might be best to keep away.
Realising he hadn’t eaten since the night before, Finlay wandered out towards the busier section of the town then stopped when he saw the restaurant the chef worked at. ‘Les Jardine’, was open for lunch and he decided he’d eat there.
Sitting at a table on the outside courtyard, he looked at the other diners and ordered steak and chips, plus half a bottle of red wine. His stomach churned knowing his food might be made by the same hand that touched his wife intimately. Still he needed to sit there and eat, find out if everyone who worked there was aware he was the cuckold husband.
The food turned up, everything was perfect and he drank his wine. The sun was shining and all was wonderful.
Except… it wasn’t.
As he looked up, he felt someone was staring at him.
Then he realised it was Marc-Philippe.
There was a numbness that shot through him when he noticed the man seemed older than he remembered. If Finlay was honest, he hadn’t really looked at him that closely before.
The question was what to do?
Finlay got up and walked to him, wanting to ask why he was screwing his wife and if he knew there was a possibility she was carrying his child. Just as Finlay was getting closer, he saw the look of fear from the man and then realised someone was rushing past him.
‘Papa!’ a beautiful little girl said going into the arms of Marc-Philippe as an older boy followed.
The man glanced at Finlay, as if not wanting him to say anything, as a white woman with long blonde hair walked up to Marc-Philippe and kissed him. She was wearing a wedding ring.
For a moment he could have done something, changed the whole course of the man’s life who was fucking up his very own. Then it dawned on him Juliette would obviously know her lover was married which made it more exciting, more interesting. Or it made her realise there was no hope in the relationship.
Finlay turned, left money on the table by his half eaten food and walked out of the restaurant. He couldn’t gauge how he felt.
Anger.
Hurt.
Surprise.
All he could feel was the underlying pain which continued to pound on his chest as he went back to the apartment.
He sat on the balcony and looked at the stunning view of the coast. Everything he had here was perfect but something felt wrong for the first time and he couldn’t really pinpoint it. Finlay heard the door open.
‘Oh Finlay!’ Juliette said, rushing to him when she entered the apartment as he stood to greet her, her long limbs wrapped around him. ‘Why didn’t you say you were coming?’
Stepping back for a moment, he looked at her up and down.
Everything was still so very perfect and exactly as he remembered.
His eyes moved towards her stomach and there was no sign she was even pregnant.
‘Hello,’ he said smiling for a moment, feeling vaguely happy on seeing her but he wondered if that was anticipation knowing he had to speak to her face to face.
‘You look amazing,’ she gushed and he didn’t take her seriously as she stroked his face and kissed him on the lips. ‘Let’s go to bed.’
That’s when he realised he was in two minds about actually making love
to his wife.
He’d done the deed with someone else, even though it was only twenty seconds, but sleeping with Juliette would be a lie, and he didn’t want to do that, even to his cheating spouse.
‘I came back to speak to you,’ he said gently, grabbing her hands and taking her into the living room.
‘About what your mother said, it’s-.’
‘I want you to be truthful, that’s all I ask,’ Finlay said quietly. ‘How long has the affair been going on for?’
Juliette stared at him for a moment and he noticed the flicker of her eyes, probably ticking over what to say to protect herself or make him feel better.
‘The truth,’ he said again.
‘It started in February,’ she began before pulling away. ‘You were always away and I’ve known him for a long time. It was a one off and then continued. It meant nothing to me and now it’s stopped. I don’t know what I was thinking but I wanted you to know the truth. I’ve hated myself for doing this to you, to us.’
He smiled.
It hurt but he smiled, nevertheless.
‘And you knew he was married?’ asked Finlay, watching the look of surprise. ‘He has children and a wife but you never thought of that at the time?’
‘It wasn’t important. I mean, it is important but nothing more would come of it. Why are you trying to make me feel bad?’
‘Does his wife know the probability he has fathered another child?’
The look of horror on Juliette’s face confused him as she stared for a moment before shaking her head from side to side.
‘If the baby is his, will he tell her? Will you tell her?’ he persisted, feeling angst more than anger, seeing the mess his wife had got herself into.
‘I believe the baby is yours. I know that-.’
‘Imagine if I stayed by your side and never knew what would have happened the day the baby came into the world? How would you then explain it to me?’ he said quietly, not wanting to shout but realising he was pretty close. ‘My world would have ended at the moment when it should have begun. You, you Juliette, have taken that away from me.’ Finlay turned around for a moment and composed himself, with the intent of keeping his even tone. ‘A friend of mine told me that it’s dangerous to have invasive tests, it could harm the child so I respect your decision. And to be honest, I’m not quite sure if I could trust you again.’
‘What do you mean?’ he heard her sharply say. ‘Trust me? Of course you can trust me. I’m your wife. You can’t just keep walking in and out when you please. And who’s this this friend?’
As Finlay turned, he could see she looked angry and anxious.
‘I’ve told my mother and a friend, that’s all.’ Then he looked at her again. ‘Why?’
‘I don’t want you to tell anyone about the baby until this is sorted,’ she said dismissively. ‘Until we’re sorted.’
‘Haven’t you told your parents? I’m sure they’d be delighted,’ he said with a hint of sarcasm. ‘We know how encompassing they are to anything that’s not French. Bet they can’t wait for their African influenced grandchild.’
‘Don’t you dare tell anyone else, do you hear me!’ she snapped as he was a little shocked by her reaction. ‘No one is to know until we sort this out.’
‘How can we sort this out!’ Finlay shouted, losing his control. ‘You won’t take the tests, you certainly won’t get rid of it so what’s your bloody plan!’
‘Nearer the time, when it’s safer for the baby, I will take the tests, not before then,’ she said quietly. ‘I know it’s yours.’
Juliette stared at him and even she didn’t look too convinced.
‘And what if it isn’t?’
‘I was thinking of going away for a few months to stay with friends in Switzerland,’ she said dismissively. ‘I can still run the business but I think it might be better than being here.’
Finlay watched his wife force a smile, one of the fake ones Sylvie was good at flashing him.
Sylvie.
He wondered what she would say about this then pondered for a moment.
‘You want to go away and hide your pregnancy just in case it is the chef’s? Then what would you do if it’s his? Give it up for adoption? Raise it as your own? What happens to us?’
‘It’s a baby, it’s done nothing wrong. I’m the one who has let us down, me down,’ she said gravely. ‘I would hope we could say we adopted it, to save our families from the embarrassment of-.’
‘Oh my god!’ he said shaking his head furiously. ‘You fucked the black guy but you still don’t want people to know you were unfaithful? Or is it you don’t want to acknowledge a mixed race baby!’ Finlay laughed as he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. ‘And what do I do?’
‘You stand by my side because I know you love me Finlay. For our marriage?’
Finlay walked back out onto the balcony of his perfect apartment, with the perfect view and his perfect wife standing behind him.
He laughed.
Sylvie ran a bath and relaxed for a moment. It was with relief that Alice and Finlay knew about her share of the company but now, with in trepidation, she knew they wouldn’t help, which means they would fight her all the way. Sylvie lay and rested her feet on the taps before looking at her right foot with the bent fourth toe and the little half toe.
She felt embarrassed again when she recalled Finlay speaking about the reasons he humoured sleeping with her. Something she didn’t think was imperfect, the colour of her skin but was still thought to be imperfect by so many others, including Finlay.
And that hurt her, even in this day and age.
She closed her eyes hoping not to cry.
But she did.
Saturday morning was spent putting up Christmas decorations with Daisy.
‘Can we get the tree today?’ her child asked eagerly while supervising. ‘Mummy that’s not straight.’
‘It’s as straight as it’s going to get,’ Sylvie replied, seeing she was right.
‘And the tinsel is uneven.’
‘I’ll sort it out later,’ she said admiring their blue and silver decorations, which she’d bought from the pound shop three years ago but they still looked good. ‘We’re getting the tree in a week because last year the thing was a twig on Christmas Day!’
Daisy nodded and started to laugh as they hugged each other in the middle of the living room and Sylvie tried not to let out an unhappy sigh, knowing it would be the third Christmas without Roo.
She had ninety minutes after dropping Daisy off so she drove to the warehouse and unlocked the doors.
‘Hello there!’ she heard someone say and turned to see it was Denis from the sign company. ‘The new one’s ready to go.’
‘Brilliant!’ she said and walked outside to see their van.
‘Do you want to have one more look?’ he asked as she nodded and he opened up the back doors. There was a younger guy hovering around the engine end of the van who looked about seventeen. Denis uncovered the sign. ‘There you go.’
Sylvie smiled.
It wasn’t a major piece of art but it was better than having ‘Chambers Caplin’ logo emblazed on the side.
‘Perfect!’ she smiled. ‘I’ll make tea while you do your thing.’
After thirty minutes it had all been done and she clapped at seeing the branding before taking several pictures.
She needed a fresh start.
Tuesday morning Finlay’s car was parked outside and Sylvie was startled when she felt happy on seeing it but mildly surprised about the involuntary spasm in her gut. She stood still for a moment before entering the building, not liking what was going through her body. Unlocking the door, she went up the stairs and found him sitting at his desk, reading something.
‘Hello,’ she said quietly, walking to her chair and sitting down. ‘I thought you were supposed to be in France.’
‘I was but came back,’ he replied, not diverting his eyes from his laptop. ‘I noticed the logo outside. Looks very sma
rt.’
‘Thanks,’ she sighed. ‘It’s the company name so I might as well use it for whatever time we have.’
‘How are things?’
‘Busy,’ she said guessing he wasn’t in the mood to make small talk as she unpacked her laptop and plugged it in. ‘I checked in and there’ve been some good orders so I’ll have to-.’
‘I meant, how are things with you?’ Finlay asked quietly as she turned to look at him and his eyes met hers. ‘Are you well?’
‘Yes. Why don’t I look well?’
‘I’m making polite conversation.’
‘Why?’ she replied and frowned for a moment. ‘You never usually do. What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing’s wrong!’ he laughed. ‘I’m just asking.’
‘Everything’s fine.’
Sylvie turned to face her screen then realised that was an opening for her to say something.
‘And you? How are things with you?’ she asked tentatively as he shrugged for a moment. ‘Did you speak to Juliette?’
‘I did and I’m not sure,’ he said brightly. ‘Not sure about anything so I thought I might as well come back to London while I decide what’s best for me and her.’
‘And the baby,’ she added as he nodded for a moment. ‘Did you talk about that?’
‘It’s all we do talk about as well as her being an adulterous devious bitch.’
Sylvie stared at him as he looked blankly at her.
‘Nothing has been resolved then?’
‘I don’t really need to come in, you know,’ Finlay said as she watched his face screw up in pain. ‘I could work from my mother’s offices but, right now, I need a distraction and here seems the perfect one. I won’t get under your feet and I know Piers needs to know everything that’s going on. I’d like to just use this place as my base as I don’t want to speak to my mother about personal things. You know what it’s like.’
He seemed sad and she wished she could touch him but knew that day was over.
‘I think you’re very lovely,’ he said quietly.
‘I think you’re under emotional strain and would even think Samina is lovely when she’s having one of her shitty moods.’