by Anna Bell
‘You’re going to Paris this week. Did you visit that website I sent you the link for? That underwear could be just the answer to all your worries,’ she says.
‘And probably get me arrested in some countries,’ I say with a groan.
‘Take lingerie like that to Paris and believe me there’ll be more than hand holding going on.’
‘I’ve ordered some for my babymoon this weekend,’ says Helen. ‘Not that it’ll probably make the blind bit of difference with Toby.’
‘That underwear never fails,’ says Anneka. ‘I’d forgotten you were going away too; we’ll have so much to catch up on next time we meet up.’
‘Don’t count on it at my end. Anyway, what else happened at the festival?’ asks Helen. ‘Apart from the hand holding?’
‘The hand holding that was very nice, may I add,’ I say.
‘Yeah, yeah,’ says Helen. ‘Come on, tell us the rest.’
A cup of tea and two date squares later, I’ve filled them in on the festival and mine and Max’s progress over the past week, followed by the conversation with Owen that’s left me a bit baffled.
‘I still don’t think that it’s much to go on,’ says Helen. ‘Sounds like he was really hungover.’
‘Yeah, but it was the way he said, “he doesn’t need to know about Anne,” that made me think that he does.’
‘Why don’t you know about Anne in the first place? Did you and Max not talk about exes when you first got together?’ says Anneka.
‘A little. I knew that he’d dated her but he gave me the impression that it was nothing serious.’
‘And you left it at that?’ says Anneka open-mouthed. ‘I’ve always made sure I thoroughly checked out the exes; that way you know if you’re in any danger or not.’
‘I had no reason to check her out. Max broke up with her long before me; I didn’t think she’d been that significant.’
‘Every ex is significant. They’re the ones that they compare you to when they’re getting bored or restless.’
Helen pulls a face. ‘Please don’t tell me you actually think that.’
‘Of course I do. Don’t tell me you’ve never had an argument with Toby and afterwards wondered what one of your exes was up to and then fantasised about what your life might have been like if you’d stayed with them.’
Helen looks guilty.
‘In my defence I’ve only been thinking of Horny Harry because of my lack of action at the moment.’
Anneka smiles smugly.
‘I guess it’s too late to do the research now, because I can’t ask Max as he doesn’t remember and Owen certainly won’t talk so I’m at a bit of a dead end. I don’t know why it’s important, but there was something in his tone. He was almost angry to say her name.’
‘This is why you should have found this all out before. I’m not saying you need to do thorough background checks on every man you date, but you should at least do the basics.’
Helen whistles under her breath.
‘Aren’t there any other friends you could ask?’ says Anneka.
I think of Max’s friend Dodgy Rodge and his sidekick Jez. As lovely as they both are, they’re not the type of friends that Max would bare his soul to.
‘Not really; he’s only really close with Owen.’
‘Is he married?’
‘No, he’s recently divorced.’
Anneka sits up a little straighter. ‘Was he married when Max was with Anne?’
‘Oh, I see where you’re going. I don’t know if I could ask Sarah. We’re still friends on Facebook, but I’ve only seen her once since they split up. We kept saying we’d invite her to the house, but we haven’t got round to it and now it’s a bit awkward.’
‘Nonsense. It’s the perfect opportunity. She’d probably love to see you. Text her now.’
‘Now?’
‘Yes,’ says Anneka, tapping the table twice like it’s a command.
I throw Helen a look and she shrugs her shoulders.
‘Not a terrible idea. Why don’t you suggest you go to her?’
‘I guess I could see if she can meet me for lunch one day; she works in central London.’
‘Today, see if she can meet today,’ says Anneka. ‘No time like the present.’
‘I’m sure she’d be busy.’
Anneka glares at me and I hastily obey.
My phone beeps almost immediately with a reply.
‘She can make it,’ I say, surprised. ‘She’s suggested a hotel at Bankside at one p.m.’
‘There you go,’ says Anneka with another smug face. ‘You’ll get to the bottom of it in no time.’
I find the hotel, a little relieved that the restaurant is more casual than I expected. I had to rush straight from meeting the girls to the train station and I didn’t have time to change my leggings and tunic combo.
I spot Sarah immediately and she waves me over.
‘Wow, look at you. You look absolutely fantastic,’ she says, reaching over the table to give me a hug.
‘So do you. Your hair looks stunning.’
She runs her hand through her short bob and smiles selfconsciously.
‘I felt like I needed a change,’ she says, as we sit down opposite each other.
An awkwardness hangs in the air between us.
‘I’m so sorry that we still haven’t got you down to the house,’ I say, starting and not knowing how to explain myself.
‘It’s OK. I knew that, when we broke up, Owen was going to keep certain people and with you being his best friend’s wife, you were always going to be one of them,’ she says with a theatrical sigh. ‘I’m just glad that we still stayed friends on Facebook. It’s so nice to see your bump updates, and to see photos of Sasha – she’s getting big now.’
‘She is indeed.’
‘Where is she today?’
‘She’s at nursery.’
‘And it’s not long now is it until the new one arrives?’
‘About six weeks,’ I say, trying to ignore the reality of what’s coming.
‘That’s so exciting.’
‘Hmm,’ I say. ‘Sometimes we struggle with one, but two…’
‘You’ll be fine. I’ve got so many friends that have a second one and they just slot right in.’
There’s a pause as the waiter comes over and gives us our menus.
‘Anything to drink?’
‘Sparkling water for me,’ I say.
‘Me too, please,’ says Sarah, ‘just bring us a large bottle.’
The waiter walks away and Sarah turns back to me.
‘So, this is an unexpected pleasure. Have you got a meeting out this way afterwards?’
‘Actually no, I um, came up specially to see you.’
‘Really? Oh, it’s not about Owen, is it? Because if you think he and I might work it out… We did try really hard at it. I mean, we even went to marriage counselling for six months. I thought he was doing OK?’
‘He is, he is,’ I say quickly. ‘That’s not why I’m here.’
‘Oh good,’ she says with relief. ‘His mum came to see me not long after we separated and I thought that you were… sorry. Well, if it’s not Owen…?’
‘It’s Max,’ I say. ‘He’s um, lost his memory.’
She gasps and I launch into the spiel that flows so naturally now that I’ve told it multiple times. We’re interrupted briefly by the waiter, who brings our water over, and we apologise for not having looked at the menus.
‘That’s incredible,’ she says finally. ‘And yet you’re still standing? How are you not a wreck?’
‘I don’t know really. It’s getting easier. I think it helps having Sasha to focus on. And he’s slowly getting to know me again – or should I say, the adult me. That’s sort of the reason I wanted to meet with you today.’
‘Oh?’ she says, leaning forward.
‘The thing is, he’s lost his memory from the last five years and I’ve been trying to fill him in on the lost time. And we’ve o
nly been together for four of those years, so I’m trying to find out about the one before he met me.’
‘Right,’ says Sarah, nodding. ‘So, where do I come in?’
‘I was asking Owen about it and he went a bit funny and then ran off to the loo.’
Sarah laughs. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh; it’s just that that’s classic Owen. He’s not very good with confrontation, or with lying. Which is why he often runs away during conversations. For the first year of our relationship I thought he had some kind of food intolerance because he went to the bathroom so much.’
‘I just wondered whether – with you having been close to Max too – if you could remember any details from back then. Owen got a bit funny at the mention of one of his ex-girlfriends, in particular – Anne.’
Sarah looks a little too delighted when the waiter interrupts us to take our order. I still haven’t really looked at the menu, so I quickly choose a salad.
‘You know something, don’t you?’ I say with a pleading look when he leaves. ‘I know it all happened long before we met, but I don’t understand why he acted so strangely if it wasn’t important.’
She looks uncomfortable, but then she lets out a deep sigh.
‘Look, you and Max are such a happy couple, are you sure you want to know about things that happened way before you were together?’
My heart starts to race and I wipe my clammy hands on my leggings.
‘Yes, I think it’s only going to drive me crazy if I don’t.’
‘What if it changes how you think of him?’
‘Is it really that bad?’ I ask.
She shrugs her shoulders. ‘It depends on whose perspective you look at it from.’
Max and I have never really talked about our past relationships in any massive detail; unlike Anneka, we never saw the point. We talked of exes in abstract terms and we were very much ‘the past is the past kind’ of people.
She takes a deep breath and then starts.
‘So, her name was easy to remember because it was Anne Summers.’
I nearly choke on the water I’m drinking. ‘Like the sex toys and lingerie?’
‘Yep. I think she actually quite liked the attention it brought her and she’d always make a joke out of it. Although she was always quick to point out the “e” at the end of her name, to differentiate herself.
‘She worked for Max’s company, although in a different department. I think they met at a Christmas do.’
‘OK,’ I say. So far, so normal.
‘He talked about her a lot at first, which was unusual for Max then. We were used to meeting the many different women he was dating but he never seemed particularly smitten like he was with her. Sorry, is this too weird?’
‘No, it’s fine,’ I say, reminding myself this is all in the past.
‘We met her once in the beginning and she seemed really nice, but then we found out she was married.’
‘She was married?’ I’m shocked. This isn’t where I was expecting this to go. ‘She was having an affair with Max?’
I can’t take this all in; I know it wasn’t him doing the cheating, but the fact that he knew she had a husband upsets me.
‘Yeah,’ she says with a gentle nod, ‘when we found out, we thought she was horrid. It was bad enough she was cheating on her husband, but she was also leading someone as great as Max on. That really wound us up. It didn’t last long, though. The guilt of being the other man affected Max and his conscience got the better of him.’
I’m left speechless.
‘Ah, Ellie. Are you OK? I shouldn’t have told you. Owen would tell me off for breaking the bro-code.’
‘No, it’s fine,’ I say, trying to pretend that’s true. ‘What happened to Anne? Max said that she’d moved abroad.’
‘That’s right. From memory, I think she moved to America with her husband.’
I take a deep breath and try and process it all.
‘Don’t think badly of Max. He didn’t know that she was married at first, and by the time he’d found out, he’d fallen for her. And he did do the decent thing in the end.’
‘I wonder why he never told me? I’d have understood.’
‘I think he was probably worried about what you’d think of him; no one ever looks favourably on the person someone’s having an affair with.’
‘I guess not,’ I say, trying to weigh it all up. ‘Do you think that’s why Owen didn’t want Max to find out about her?’
‘Yes, definitely. Max was really embarrassed and hurt by the whole thing. I can’t see any reason why he needs to relive that part of his life.’
I breathe a sigh of relief. Owen was just protecting his friend.
‘I guess this explains a lot. When we first got together Max made a whole big deal about us being monogamous and he was adamant that he’d never tolerate cheating in a relationship.’
‘Maybe it made him realise what kind of relationship he wanted,’ she says. ‘That and what happened to his parents.’
‘Yes, I know that really affected him.’
I think of the Mick-and-Judy charade and it makes my stomach feel queasy. The longer his memory loss goes on for, the more uncomfortable I get with them lying to him. I know the doctor said not to upset him too much, but that was when we thought his memory was going to come back in a matter of hours. It’s been two and a bit weeks now.
‘The important thing to realise,’ says Sarah, as the waiter comes over and puts our lunch down in front of us, ‘is that none of this has any bearing on you and Max. Maybe it even helped you get together. Perhaps that was the relationship that Max needed to make him stop his womanising ways and to get him to settle down.’
‘Maybe,’ I say, my head still spinning.
‘There’s never been any question about how much he loves you, and that’s all you need to focus on.’
‘Yeah, I guess you’re right,’ I say.
I think about what Anneka said about finding out exes at the beginning, but she would have been wrong in this instance. If I’d found that out in the early stages of dating him, before I got to know Max like I do now, I might have judged him. But I know Max inside and out, and I know that he would never do anything to hurt anyone. It hasn’t tainted my views of him, in fact it makes me thankful for whatever happened with Anne because – if what Sarah says is true – it paved the way for Max and I to have the perfect relationship we had up until two and a half weeks ago. And now I can go to Paris and concentrate on getting that man to properly fall back in love with me.
Chapter 18
I don’t know how anyone can arrive on the streets of Paris and not go tingly with anticipation. It just oozes romance at every turn. Even on the brief taxi ride from the Gare du Nord, I couldn’t help but pretend that I was in a fancy perfume advert as the car whizzed down the streets lined with the iconic Parisian façades. I’m just waiting for the big finale of the advert where the models end up in the bedroom with the two actors ripping off each other’s clothes, the curtains billowing in front of the open window, with a perfectly framed Eiffel Tower in the background.
We booked a room in the boutique hotel Anneka recommended and I gasp as we walk into the lobby. It’s beautiful. It’s full of black marbled surfaces and dark velvet chairs with chintzy chandeliers hanging from the ceiling.
We walk over to the front desk and the man behind smiles up at us.
‘We have a reservation in the name of Voss,’ I say, forgetting that we’re in France and I scratch my head wishing I’d remembered to gen up on some French. ‘J’ai une… reservation?’
‘It’s OK, we can speak in English, it’s no problem,’ he says with a faultless English accent.
‘OK, great.’
He taps away on the keyboard and I give Max a little smile. We’re here in Paris – the city of love – and I can just tell that he must be thinking that too.
‘Here we are, Voss. You have a twin room on the third floor,’ he says, tapping away some more. ‘I’ll jus
t need your passports and a credit card.’
I pull out my passport and put it on the desk before it hits me what he said.
‘Hang on,’ I say, placing a hand over my passport so that he can’t take it. ‘Did you say twin room?’
‘Uh-huh, it’s a very nice room. Good view of the Panthéon.’
‘That sounds nice,’ says Max, sliding it across the desk.
‘Hang on,’ I repeat, grabbing hold of his too. ‘We reserved a double room, we need a double room.’
The man looks down at the reservation.
‘The site that you booked on doesn’t guarantee that. What you actually reserved was a room for two.’
On any other day I would smile sweetly despite being pissed off and just thank him profusely and take the key. But these are not usual circumstances. I’m going to have sex with my husband for the second first time and I don’t want to do it in a single bed. Bloody hell, with my sodding bump I can barely fit on a single bed by myself, let alone getting it on in one.
‘I’m sorry but we need a double bed,’ I say with pleading eyes.
Max turns and looks at me. ‘Single beds will be fine, Ellie.’
I take a deep breath.
‘No. They. Will. Not. We did not come to Paris to sleep in two single beds,’ I say, loudly attracting the attention the other people milling about in the lobby. Now everyone is looking at me like I’m some horny pregnant woman. Which of course I am, but I don’t want everyone to know it.
‘I’m very sorry, madam, all of our standard doubles have already gone. They are very popular.’
‘I can imagine. Well, this will not do.’
‘Ellie, let’s just—’
I hold up my hand and don’t let him finish his sentence.
‘When we walked in and I saw how beautiful this place was, the Tripadvisor review was practically writing itself, only now I think it’s going to say something quite different,’ I say, my lip curling like a ferocious beast.
The man looks up from his computer screen and his eyes startle.
‘Oh,’ he says, quickly turning back to his screen and tapping away, ‘what do you know, we have a suite available.’
‘Perfect,’ I say, exhaling loudly and trying to stop my hands from trembling. ‘That would be most satisfactory.’