Cruel Venus

by Susan Lewis

  She knew now why the press hadn’t descended on her when the News of the World first broke the story. Shelley had stopped it. She’d been tipped off it was going to happen, and she’d personally called all the editors to ask them to back off. She’d have to pay for that favour somewhere down the line, probably they both would, but they’d deal with it when the time came.

  She looked up at the lamplit window. The curtains were still open, the TV seemed to be on. She could go in there now and beg him to come back. The idea of the kind of scene it would create made her sadder than ever. He wouldn’t come, nor would she go up there. She’d just sit here a while longer, and try to muster the courage to go home. To walk into the flat that still smelt of him. To open drawers and find things that belonged to him. To look at the sofa and remember him. To lie in their bed and long for him.

  She covered her face with her hands. She just didn’t know what to do any more. Her ribs were tender from all the crying, and they hurt now as more huge, racking sobs took hold of her body. She didn’t understand what was happening. How could someone who had loved her so much, who had shared so much of his life with her, just turn his back on her like this? OK, she understood about male menopause, or midlife crises, but those excuses just weren’t enough to blot out the pain, nor were they any guarantee that he would ever come back.

  So much despair engulfed her she thought she would drown in it. Her body was too small to contain it. Her fists pummelling the wheel did nothing to ease it. She reached blindly for her bag and fumbled for the phone.

  ‘Shelley?’ she gasped. ‘Oh God, Shell.’

  ‘It’s OK,’ Shelley responded. ‘You’ll be OK. Where are you?’

  ‘Outside their flat.’

  ‘I’ll come and get you.’

  ‘No, I’ll come to you. It’s just …’ She struggled for breath. ‘I can’t go home.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Here, drink this,’ Shelley said.

  Allyson took the brandy. She was huddled into a blanket on the sofa facing the sluggishly flickering fire. There were only two lamps on in the room, the delicate bronze and alabaster Carder, and a reading light behind a big, comfy leather chair. Shadows from the fire danced around the walls.

  ‘I don’t know why I did it,’ she said. Her voice was nasal, still clogged with tears. ‘She went out, left him there alone. I could have gone in, but …’ Her voice trailed off, she didn’t really know what she wanted to say. ‘Thank God there was no press around.’

  Shelley sat down on the sofa too. Her hair was pinned up, she wore no make-up, was dressed simply in a long silk bathrobe and white satin slippers. Evidence of the work she’d been doing was scattered on the floor around the leather chair.

  ‘So humanitarian Wednesdays is a no go,’ Allyson said, changing the subject.

  Shelley’s eyes showed her regret. ‘I tried,’ she said, ‘but Stella wouldn’t buy it. She believes that ultimately people just don’t care. She’s not objecting to the occasional topical interview, you know, if something other than the normal tragedy occurs in Sudan, or a British aid worker gets killed in Bolivia. Just not a regular thing.’

  Allyson nodded. ‘Doesn’t seem like much is going my way lately, does it?’

  ‘That’ll change.’

  Allyson made a gesture of impatience. ‘I don’t understand why he wants to live in that dreadful part of town, in a flat that’s smaller and grottier than the one we had when we first met.’ She sighed and her breath shook. She stared bleakly down at her brandy. ‘I suppose it’s a measure of how much he loves her, that he’ll put up with it.’

  ‘It won’t take him long to get fed up,’ Shelley said. ‘He’s too fond of the high life.’

  Allyson drank and sat quietly watching the fire. ‘I keep asking myself, what it is about her?’ she said after a while. ‘I know she’s young and pretty, but so are thousands of girls. So what is it about Tessa Dukes?’

  ‘You could ask what is it about any of us,’ Shelley said. ‘No-one’s got any idea what attracts us to the people we’re attracted to.’

  ‘He’s never done anything like this before,’ Allyson protested. ‘We’ve always been so close. And it wasn’t as if he wasn’t getting sex at home. So why did he need to go elsewhere? And why to her? Look,’ she continued, rummaging in her bag. ‘I’ve been cutting articles out of the paper about her. We were the ones who interviewed her, but no-one, none of us, really knows anything about her. No, I know what you’re going to say,’ she cut in, as Shelley made to interrupt, ‘it was my decision, and I accept that. I could see she’d had problems somewhere along the line and I wanted to give her the chance of a fresh start. Everyone deserves that, but God knows, if I’d thought for a minute she’d make that start with my husband …’ She took a breath. ‘I’m a fool, Shelley. I should have checked up on her more. I mean, she’s just come out of nowhere, ruining my marriage, tearing my life to pieces and turning my husband into a man I don’t even know. And now I keep asking myself, who is she, for God’s sake? How can she do this? I didn’t expect any thanks, but I certainly didn’t expect anything like this.’

  Shelley’s eyes went down. Should she tell Allyson that the way she was fixating on Tessa was, in its own perverse way, normal at times like this? To turn a rival into a monster was a way of trying to derive some comfort, or of creating excuses for a rejection that was just too painful and merciless to bear. But that wasn’t what Allyson wanted to hear, what she wanted was to have her suspicions confirmed that there was something strange about Tessa, that Tessa and some deep-rooted psychological disturbance was totally responsible for what was happening to her and Bob’s lives, and that she, Allyson, must fight to save her husband before he was destroyed by this horrible phenomenon. It was all so dramatic, yet, in its own tragic way, normal. And who could say, Allyson might be right, Tessa could be suffering from some kind of psychosis, but other than becoming the object of Bob’s obsession, which had to be his problem rather than Tessa’s, as far as Shelley could make out the girl was rather boringly normal. This perhaps did beg the question what did Bob see in her, for God, and Shelley, knew how many affairs the man had had during his marriage, but not even Shelley had brought him close to leaving Allyson, and though she might be a good deal older than Tessa, she was certainly much more Bob’s type, considering his bent for social climbing …

  This led her on to Allyson’s belief in his fidelity, which was an aberration that probably should be addressed, for the only astonishing part of that wasn’t that Allyson could be so naive, because most wives were, but that the press hadn’t trumpeted his serial adultery all over the front pages by now. Though Shelley had to concede they probably didn’t know about most of it, since Bob, give him his due, could be pretty discreet when he tried. But this was the British press they were talking about, terriers every one of them, so it was only a matter of time before all the dirty linen was hauled out of the cupboard. God knew, Shelley didn’t want to be the one to break it to Allyson, but it was surely going to be better coming from her, here, in the privacy of the flat that was virtually Allyson’s second home, than letting her read about it in the papers.

  However, even after bracing herself with the reassurance that in the long run it was the kindest thing she could do, it was still with great trepidation that Shelley said softly into the cosy warmth that was embracing them, ‘Ally, Tessa isn’t the first.’

  Allyson was about to drink, but her hand and her heart suddenly stopped. Her drink was in mid-air. But it was OK, it was like a shield, and as long as she didn’t move the words couldn’t come in, and then she wouldn’t have to worry about how to get them out.

  Shelley looked at her. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. ‘I wish to God I wasn’t the one to tell you, but he’s been sleeping with other women, well, for quite some time.’

  Allyson remained frozen.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Shelley whispered again.

  Allyson leaned forward and put down her glass. Her hand was shaki
ng, her whole life was crumbling again, but she had to let it happen, because there was no way she could stop it. ‘How do you know?’ she said.

  ‘I just know,’ Shelley answered.

  Allyson shook her head, telling her that wasn’t good enough.

  Shelley steeled herself again. ‘I was one of the women he tried … Well, let’s just say, he tried with.’

  Allyson took a sharp, quick breath. But it was all right, she didn’t have to think about it, because it might not be true. Her nightmares were full of scenes like this, so there was a chance she’d wake up in a minute and none of it would be real.

  Her eyes remained focused on the exquisite Night and Day clock by Lalique. After a while it felt strangely soothing, the way the two female figures, engraved so gracefully in the glass, were entwined. One dark, one light. Like her and Shelley. Brunette and blonde. Shelley had so many beautiful things, but of all of them this was the one Allyson loved the most. What she wouldn’t give to own a clock like that.

  ‘I always turned him down,’ Shelley said.

  Allyson’s eyes left the clock. It wasn’t a dream. ‘I suppose it was why he always had such a hard time with you,’ she said. ‘His ego probably couldn’t handle the rejection.’ She turned her head and Shelley saw the tears starting to fall from her eyes. ‘But men like Bob never can handle women like you. You intimidate them because they’re weak and you’re strong. Oh God, Shelley, please tell me this is going to end.’

  Shelley opened her arms and held her as she cried, smoothing her hair and feeling her tears dampen her shoulder. ‘It will,’ she promised. ‘I just wish I could tell you when.’

  ‘How is it possible to love someone who treats you like this?’

  ‘You’d be amazed how many women do. I’ve been there myself, but never again.’

  ‘No, never again.’ Allyson lifted her head. There was a sudden fierceness in her now. A determination to turn her words into truth. But how could she do that, without knowing how?

  Shelley looked into her face and brushed back her hair. ‘You’re very special,’ she whispered.

  Allyson gazed into her eyes. She was remembering how Bob had often accused Shelley of preferring women. It made sense now, if Shelley had rejected him. It was what most men fell back on when a woman was able to resist them. She’d never suspected Shelley of it herself. Why would she, when there had never been any signs of it, and when she’d been Shelley’s confidante, and shoulder, through so many of the break-ups Shelley had suffered. She’d always put Shelley’s failure with men down to them not being man enough to handle a woman like her, but maybe there was more to it than that. Maybe there was something Shelley was denying in herself, and sitting here now, so close that she could feel Shelley’s breath on her face … Her heart turned over. How deeply she loved her, her closest, truest friend. The one person in the world she knew would never let her down.

  Shelley smiled and Allyson watched her lips curve. Their mouths were so close, it would be so easy to kiss her. She wanted to kiss her. She wanted Shelley to hold her and keep her safe. She wanted to expand the love they knew so it could embrace them completely.

  Very slowly, very tentatively, she closed the space between them.

  Shelley’s lips were warm and soft. They moved beneath hers, parting and responding.

  Allyson’s eyes were open, looking at the luxuriant curl of Shelley’s lashes.

  Somewhere in the distance a siren wailed and the kiss continued. Allyson closed her eyes and increased the pressure of her mouth. Then her hands were on Shelley’s shoulders, smoothing the silk, then parting it. Her breasts were large and firm, her nipples were tightly erect. Allyson smoothed her hands over them, loving their feel.

  Then the kiss was over.

  It was a moment before Allyson realized Shelley had ended it.

  They sat there looking into each other’s eyes. The glow of the firelight turned Shelley’s skin to honey.

  ‘I’m going to put you to bed now,’ Shelley said.

  Allyson swallowed and felt the strangeness in her head increase.

  ‘No, not my bed,’ Shelley said. ‘This isn’t what you want. It’s not what either of us want.’

  ‘But you didn’t turn me away.’

  ‘I am now. You needed the warmth and the intimacy, but it wouldn’t be right for either of us to go any further.’

  ‘I love you,’ Allyson whispered.

  Shelley smiled. ‘I know. But it’s a different kind of love and you’re feeling so vulnerable right now you’re confusing it.’

  Allyson turned away and Shelley covered her breasts. It was the first time she’d ever kissed a woman, but as beautiful and sensuous as she’d found it, she had no desire to do it again. She suspected, in the cold light of day, that Allyson wouldn’t want to either.

  TESSA

  Chapter 6

  ‘HELLO TESSA. HOW are you?’

  ‘I’m OK. Got stuck in traffic, that’s why I’m late.’ The rosiness of her cheeks told how cold it was outside, but her adorably refreshing smile, when it came, was like sunshine.

  ‘Sit down.’ Laura Risby’s wiry brown hair was tucked behind her ears, better exposing the calm warmth of a face that was in the twilight of a serene and understated beauty. She got up from her desk as Tessa removed her scarf and coat, going to the coffee pot on a bookshelf nearby. After filling two mugs, she handed one to Tessa and returned to her desk, where a small lamp cast its glow over the open file on her blotter.

  Tessa sat in a leather wing-backed chair, her bag tucked in next to her, her face gently illumined by the muted light beside her. The crammed shelves of technical and medical books were lost in the room’s shadows, as were the several gilt-framed paintings, and all that was visible through the window behind Laura were the cluttered rooftops of Soho set against the backdrop of a colourless sky.

  ‘I’m glad you came,’ Laura said. ‘I’ve been reading about you in the papers.’

  Tessa grimaced, and looked at her from under her lashes. ‘I guessed you might,’ she said sheepishly, ‘but I didn’t really feel like talking about it.’

  ‘Do you now?’ Laura asked.

  ‘I’m not sure. It’s all been pretty, well, you know.’

  No, Laura didn’t know, but she could guess, and though, as a psychotherapist, it wasn’t her place to approve or disapprove of this affair with Bob Jaymes, she was fond enough of the girl to be more than a little concerned at the way events appeared to be unfolding. ‘You’re still at the same job,’ she said, swivelling in her chair to rest her feet on an open drawer.

  ‘Yes and no,’ Tessa answered. ‘I’m with the same programme, but I’m a researcher/reporter now. I haven’t actually been on the screen yet, though.’

  ‘What about Allyson? Do you come into much contact with her?’

  ‘A bit. But mainly I’m out, you know, on location. I know you’ve seen the show, so what I’m doing, exactly, is getting together material for the filmed insert that comes after the commercial break. You know, the section where someone reports on weird or unusual things that are happening around the country. It’s really cool. I did one of the inserts myself the other day, just for practice. It didn’t go out on the air or anything. They’re letting me have the tape to give to my new agent.’

  Laura’s surprise showed. ‘Agent?’ she echoed.

  ‘Yes. I’ve got an agent now. Julian, he’s this kind of friend, he introduced me.’

  ‘So what’s the agent going to do?’

  Tessa appeared nonplussed, then, shrugging, she said, ‘Well, everyone in front of the camera has an agent. Allyson’s got one.’

  ‘I see.’ Laura drank some coffee. ‘You were always very fond of Allyson,’ she said. ‘Has that changed?’

  ‘Oh no!’ Tessa seemed genuinely distressed by the idea that Laura would even think it. ‘She’s the kindest, most wonderful person I’ve ever met, and I can’t tell you how terrible I feel about everything that’s happened. And sometimes she looks s
o cut up about it all that I just want to put my arms around her and cry with her. She’d probably go ballistic if I did, but I wouldn’t do it, I’m just saying, that’s how she makes me feel.’

  Laura waited to see if she wanted to expand on that, but she seemed not to so Laura said, ‘What about Bob? How do you feel about him?’

  ‘Oh, he’s wonderful.’ Her eyes were shining as her fingers tightened on the arms of the chair. ‘I really love him. I can’t believe he left his wife for me. No-one’s ever made me feel that special before.’

  Given her case history, Laura didn’t doubt that. ‘Does he love you?’ she asked.

  Tessa blushed. ‘He says he does.’ She paused, then nodded happily. ‘Yes, I think so,’ she said. ‘I mean, sometimes he gets in a bad mood, not with me, but with the whole situation, you know. He feels really terrible about Allyson, and he gets angry with himself for not being able to handle it better.’

  ‘How do you think he should handle it?’ Laura asked.

  Tessa’s head went to one side as she thought. ‘Well, I think it’s better that he’s not lying any more,’ she began, swerving away from the actual question. ‘That was horrible. I really hated it when he was lying to Allyson. I know she probably didn’t want to hear the truth, and I didn’t want to cause her all that pain, but, you know, when things like this happen, the truth has to come out sometime, doesn’t it?’

  Laura’s professional antennae were suddenly alert. She hadn’t expected to get to this point so soon. But it was OK, it was good that they were there, the question was, could she keep them there? ‘Like it did before?’ she said carefully.

  To her dismay Tessa looked sharply away, rejecting the bait, and Laura knew it was going to be hard getting her back. But she was going to try. ‘Do you feel at all responsible for what’s happened?’ she asked.

  Tessa reached into her bag, pulled out a bunch of grapes and began to eat. Laura was familiar with this method of defence, an attempt to appear nonchalant and detached, when in truth she was anything but. ‘Want one?’ Tessa said, offering the bag to Laura.