Oh sweet mother of God.
I open the front door. “You…you really should leave.”
Mindy picks up her clipboard and flounces over to me. “You don’t know what you’re turning down.”
“Yeah…I really do. But I’m a married man.”
“So what? I’ve seen the two of you together. Neither of you looks happy.”
I’m taken aback. The idea that people on the outside can detect problems in my relationship with Laura really stings. “That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it? Then why did you let me in today?”
“You wanted to carry out an inspection.”
“Oh come on, Jamie. That was an excuse.” Mindy pouts again. “I want you to be inspecting me, not the other way around.”
“Well I can’t.”
“Can’t? Or just won’t?”
“Both.”
I expect the pout to get bigger but instead Mindy offers me another seductive smile. “Well, I’m not giving up, Jamie. I know you want me as much as I want you.” She cocks her head in thought. “I finish work early on Friday afternoon, about two o’clock. By half past I’ll be wearing the sexiest lingerie set I own. All you need to do is knock on my door and come in. I promise you that by the end of the day, you won’t be thinking about your wife.” Before I can stop her, Mindy plants a firm kiss on my lips. “Half past two on Friday, Jamie. Be there.”
I’m too stunned to respond.
Mindy leaves the apartment without looking back and walks down the stairs out of sight.
I remain standing at the open door for a few moments until my wits return and I remember how to close the thing.
I’d like to say that I’ve dismissed the idea of taking Mindy up on her offer completely. But when Laura got home this evening we argued for what felt like the hundredth time about money, and she took herself off to bed early, leaving me sitting on the couch alone with my thoughts. Thoughts that are largely full of the whispering sound Mindy’s skirt made as she pulled it up over her thighs and the urgent feel of her lips on mine. I could do it…
I could spend an afternoon in the kind of carnal gymnastics I dreamt about as a teenage boy, and Laura would be none the wiser. There’s every chance she’s already having an affair with Alan Brookes anyway, so why shouldn’t I take this opportunity to have a really fucking good time before my life completely falls apart?
Mindy definitely wants me, which is more than I can say for my wife these days. My mind strays back to the brief flash of Mindy’s stockings I got this afternoon. Then it strays even further back in time to an exciting glimpse of a similar pair of stockings under a tight skirt—these worn by Laura as she makes her way up the stairs of my old house and into the bedroom so we can make love for the first time.
What I wouldn’t give to be back in that bed with Laura right now. Ideally without Mittens interrupting every five seconds this time around.
The past is the past, though, and things are very different now. I have a choice to make. Do I try to patch things up with Laura? Or is the damage too much to repair? Do I say sod it and give in to temptation with Mindy? Or do I do the “right thing” and spend Friday afternoon staring out of the window all by my lonesome?
I need to sleep on it. Which I won’t do very well, because I’m stuck on this bloody couch.
LAURA’S DIARY
Thursday, November 23
Dear Mum,
Today, a man opened his heart to me in a way that brought me to tears. He told me things I needed to hear. He made me feel very, very special. Sadly, that man wasn’t my husband, hence the fact I’m writing this diary entry with a hand that won’t stop bloody shaking.
“Laura? Can we talk?” Alan Brookes says walking into my office.
“Can it wait? I’m in the middle of checking last month’s sales figures.”
“It is important, Laura.”
I eye him suspiciously. “Is it about work, Alan? Because I don’t want to talk to you about anything else.”
“Yes, of course it is!”
“Alright.” I turn away from the computer keyboard and watch him sit down across the desk from me. “What’s up?”
Alan hesitates, and then leans forward in his chair. “I can’t stop thinking about you, Laura,” he says in a near whisper.
“Oh for God’s sake!”
“I know I shouldn’t, but I just can’t help myself.”
“You need to stop this! I can’t deal with it anymore, Alan. You need to stop trying to seduce me with expensive presents and just let me get on with my job.”
“Did you like the opal necklace?”
“Yes…I mean no!” I open my drawer, retrieve the plush, long blue box containing the necklace, and slam it down on my desk in front of him. “Have it back and stop buying me things.”
“But I love you, Laura.”
He says it with such a look of hurt on his face I can’t help but feel awful despite myself. “Alan, what do you want me to say to you?”
Oh dear, this has obviously given him an opening and he intends to take full advantage of it. Alan is up out of his chair, round the desk and on his knees in front of me before I can do anything about it. “Alan, stop it! Somebody might come in.”
“I don’t care if they do. This is my company and if I want to kneel in front of the woman I love, I will.”
“You do not love me,” I hiss.
“Stop telling me how I feel, Laura,” Alan snaps. “I do love you, and you just have to accept it,” he says with authority in his voice. This takes me by surprise. I’m so used to having this man act like a lovesick little boy these days that I’ve forgotten the kind of man he actually is.
“I don’t really know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything, Laura. I know this is wrong and I’m crossing a line, but being around you makes me very happy and I’d like to make it a more permanent arrangement.”
“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this, Alan. I’m married!”
He leans forward and takes my hand in his. For a brief second I have the terrible notion he’s about to propose.
“He’s not being much of a husband though, is he? You’re doing all the work, while he just sits around writing.”
“It’s not his fault.”
“Isn’t it? Really? You’ve been here nearly a year and he’s still got no job.” Alan puts a hand to his chest. “I’ve never been out of work that long. There’s always a job out there if you’re willing to look for one—even if it’s cleaning floors. I’d resent anyone I was married to, if I were the one out working myself into the ground while they sat around doing nothing all day.”
Oh, God, I don’t want to agree with Alan, but in my heart of hearts I’m afraid I do. I do resent Jamie and his long sleep-ins, walks down the beach, and all the time he gets to spend with Poppy during the day. How many times have I come home dead on my feet to find he’s still moping around in his jogging bottoms, his major accomplishment of the day being the carton of milk he bought for half price at Aldi and three hundred words of unreadable rubbish on the laptop? Oh, he’s managed to score two or three very short contracts in the last year, but in all that time, surely he could have gotten some kind of permanent work. He could have made some effort to find a nine to five, even if it was something a bit menial.
If there’s one criticism I could level at Jamie, it’s that he thinks some things in this life are beneath him. It’s a trait he definitely picked up from his overbearing mother—and I don’t like it one bit. Put all that together with the fact that he’s probably been fucking a twenty-year-old girl and, yeah, I’d say resentment doesn’t begin to cover it.
“I’ve heard enough about your husband to know he’s no good for you, Laura,” Alan continues. “I can give you everything he can’t.”
My eyes fill w
ith tears. “You need to stop, Alan. Please.”
“I can’t. I won’t. I love you with all my heart, Laura. Have since the first day I saw you. If you wanted me to, I’d leave Valerie straightaway and do everything I could to make a home for you and your daughter here. Neither of you would want for anything again, I promise. I’d love you and take care of you in a way James never could.”
“His name’s Jamie,” I mumble.
“Just give me a chance, Laura. Please?”
Now I’m crying my eyes out, mainly because there’s part of me that’s actually contemplating Alan’s offer. He leans forward and plants a kiss on my lips. I hesitate for the briefest of moments before I push him away.
“Please, Alan. Please just leave me alone. I can’t…I can’t deal with this. I don’t know what to do.”
He stands up. “I’m so sorry if I’ve upset you, Laura. That’s the last thing I wanted to do.”
“I know.”
“I’ll give you some peace now, but please think about what I’ve said. Sleep on it. I’ll be at my place in Burleigh Heads for the whole of tomorrow. Take the afternoon off work and come see me. It’s on the beach in a building called Beach Plaza. Mine’s the penthouse on the fourth floor.”
“I’ll…I’ll think about it.”
Oh fuck me, what am I saying?
Alan smiles. “Great. Have a nice rest of the day, Laura.” He turns and goes out the door.
I immediately leap out of my chair, run over, and slam the door. The last thing I want to do is see anyone else, given the state I’m in.
My legs suddenly feel very shaky and I collapse to the floor, my back sliding down the office door until my bum painfully hits the carpet. If my legs hadn’t given out from under me, I would have probably fallen over anyway, thanks to the dizzying whirlwind in my head.
I have a husband who might be cheating on me, a boss who’s offering me a dream lifestyle, and a daughter whose welfare I care about above everything else. Alan Brookes can certainly offer her a more stable future than Jamie right now, whether my husband is sticking it to another woman or not.
What in God’s name am I supposed to do?
I wish you could answer that question for me, Mum.
Would you tell me to stick with Jamie despite everything that’s happened recently? Or would you tell me to grab the opportunity Alan has presented and make a clean break here in Australia with him?
I can hear Jamie coming back from another one of his bloody walks, so I’ll have to stop writing now so that we can have tea in silence together before putting Poppy to bed for the night. Tucking our daughter in is the only thing we do with each another anymore.
Love and miss you, Mum.
Your daughter, Laura
xx
JAMIE’S BLOG
Friday 24 November
It’s two thirty in the afternoon.
My legs barely feel able to support my weight as I walk past the swimming pool, up the flight of stairs, and along the corridor that will lead me to the apartment. My heart hammers in my chest so loud it’s a wonder the other people in the complex don’t throw their doors open to see what all the fuss is about.
I can’t believe I’m about to do this. This isn’t like me. I’m not this kind of man. But I’ve been forced into it, haven’t I? What else is a man supposed to do when his wife has been keeping secrets about another man’s affections? When she’s hidden the truth from him?
Does he just turn a blind eye? Or does he do what he thinks is best for him?
Does he go into the apartment at the end of this corridor and do something he’ll probably live to regret in the long run but will make him feel so much better in the short term?
Yes is the answer. After much agonising, I know this is absolutely the right thing to do. My hand still pauses before I knock on the door, though.
I draw in the deepest breath I’ve ever taken, rub my eyes, breathe out slowly, and grit my teeth. Here goes nothing.
Knock knock.
LAURA’S DIARY
Friday, November 24
I’m sorry, Mum, but I can’t do this any longer.
I can’t carry on living the way I have with Jamie recently. The mutual deceit. The newfound distrust. It just has to end—and end now.
I can feel your look of intense disapproval on the back of my neck as I walk along the corridor to the lift. If you were here in front of me you’d be ordering me to turn around and leave “right this minute, young lady.” But you’re not, so I get into the lift and ride it to the fourth floor.
The ping the lift makes when it arrives nearly makes my heart jump out of my throat. I will my legs to stop shaking and walk out of the lift towards the apartment door in front of me.
This is it, then. Major life-changing moment ahead. Here goes everything.
Knock knock.
JAMIE’S BLOG
Friday 24 November Continued…
I hear footsteps beyond the door.
Someone’s obviously in a big hurry to see me. If this goes the way I think it’s going to, I know I’m going to have to get pretty damn physical. This may be a problem as I’m decidedly unfit, what with the slight paunch and everything.
I just hope and pray I can give a good account of myself. Doing this is hard enough without having to worry about the embarrassment of poor performance. The door starts to swing open. I take another deep breath and prepare myself.
“About time you got here,” an amused voice says as the door opens. “I was beginning to think you weren’t com—Hey, you’re not Laura! Who are you?”
Alan Brookes stares at me from the doorway, confusion writ large across his face.
LAURA’S DIARY
Friday, November 24 Continued…
I hear the door being unlocked on the other side.
This is it, girl. This is your last chance to leave and avoid doing something you will regret for a long time.
I ignore the voice. It can’t help me now. This is going to happen. I want it to happen.
Damn it, I need it to happen! The door flies open. Mindy is dressed in the most beautiful lingerie set I’ve ever seen in my life.
“I’m so glad you came, I can’t wait to—” She immediately falls silent when she realises who’s at the door.
JAMIE’S BLOG
Friday 24 November Continued…
“Sorry, pal. Laura couldn’t make it.” I stand as straight as possible, but I’m still a good four inches shorter than this bastard. “I figured you and me should have a word, though.”
“I’m sorry mate, who are you?”
I roll my eyes. At least he could have the decency to know the guy he’s trying to cuckold. “My name’s Jamie Newman. As in Laura Newman. I’m her husband.”
Brookes goes suitably white. “Oh.”
“Yeah…oh.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Well, Alan. Me and the missus have been chatting. It’s something we’ve not been doing much of recently and that’s made things very bad between us. You and a horny twenty-year-old certainly haven’t helped matters, but when you get right down to it, the problem has been about our relationship with one another, not anybody else.”
“I don’t understand.”
“No, from what Laura told me last night about your own marriage, it sounds like you probably don’t, do you?” This is good. I’m warming up now. “We’re not like that though, Laura and me. At least we weren’t until we moved here and things got complicated.”
“Look, I don’t think we should be having this conversation, mate. I’m going to close the door and—”
My arm shoots out and stops the door from closing. “Oh no, Alan, this is a conversation we should be having. You’ve tried your hardest to steal my wife from me over the past few weeks, so I think the least you c
an do is hear me out, what do you reckon?” The last is delivered in a low, menacing hiss.
This boy can pull out the tough bastard act when he really needs to, you know.
“Okay, mate,” Alan says, hands going up. “I don’t want any trouble.”
His conciliatory body language warms the cockles of my heart.
“Excellent. Now, as I was saying, Laura and I weren’t speaking. We were keeping things from one another. And that’s never a good way to maintain a happy relationship, is it?”
Alan gawks at me.
“Is it?”
“No?”
“No. It isn’t. But we fell into the trap anyway. Mostly because of work and money and stress and bruised egos…you know, all that superficial crap that shouldn’t matter for shit but seems to anyway, no matter how hard you try to prevent it.”
“I see.”
“No, I don’t think you do, otherwise you and the lovely Valerie might be getting on better.”
Alan goes wide-eyed. I love it.
“Oh, yes, Alan. Laura and I are really talking now. About everything. We spent the whole of yesterday evening chatting after we’d put Poppy to bed.”
“Poppy?”
“Our daughter Alan. The one innocent person in all of this.” I have to pause for a moment to let the anger and guilt subside. “It’s because of Poppy that I’m the one here with you now, and not Laura. You see, it’s her birthday next week. The most important day of the year.”
Hold it together, Newman. This idiot doesn’t need to see tears running down your face.
“My wife and I should have spent the last week planning how to celebrate it. Instead, we haven’t spoken at all. Because of you, because of a girl you don’t know, but mainly because of each other.”
I don’t really need to be telling Alan Brookes all of this, but I’m finding the experience more cathartic than I can possibly describe.
“Laura and I only realised we hadn’t even thought about our gorgeous daughter’s birthday while she was cleaning her teeth before bed.” I can’t help the anger returning to my voice. “Do you have any idea what that felt like, Alan? How guilty we both felt at that moment? No, don’t bother answering. I don’t actually care what you think.”
Love...Under Different Skies Page 24