by Susan Lewis
‘There’s no need,’ he informed her. ‘Just continue to do a good job.’
‘Of course,’ she smiled.
The door was open, he was standing aside for her to go.
‘Bye then,’ she said.
‘Goodbye.’
She walked past him, then at the last moment turned to look over her shoulder. ‘Until the next time,’ she said playfully, and after a quick glance at his assistant she left.
Bob was holding the note in his hand, staring at it, and hardly believing it. Yet the words were right there, in Tessa’s girlishly round writing, plain to see and even plainer to read.
He sat down on the sofa and winced with the pain of the bruises that covered most of his body. Then he closed his eyes and let his breath go. It was a nightmare. His whole life had been taken over by a nightmare and he couldn’t make himself wake up. Not three hours ago he had been mugged coming out of the pub. Mugged, for God’s sake! In broad daylight, for the grand sum of six lousy quid. The landlord had taken him to hospital, where the gash over his right eye had received three stitches, and his left arm had been set in a cast to repair the break. The kicking he’d received to his legs and ribs had broken nothing, but they hurt like hell nevertheless.
And now he had come home to this.
‘Dear Bob,’ the note said, ‘I’m really sorry to leave without talking things over, but we both know how unhappy you’ve been lately, and nothing I do seems to help. I wish it did, but I think we both have to accept that there’s no point pretending any more. I may or may not have mentioned to you how I thought my new boss, Mark Reiner, was interested in me, and I’ve decided I’d like to give that relationship a chance. I think the only reason he’s been holding back is because I’m living with you. So, I’ve found myself a new place in Knightsbridge, where you’ll be welcome to come and visit any time you like. I really love you and care about you. Tessa. PS: I’ve left twenty-nine pounds on the table, which is yours from my bank account. Big kiss and good luck. T.’
The money was indeed on the table, but everything else, the magazines, the wooden candleholder and the cheery French wine coasters, had gone. He hadn’t looked in the bedroom, but he knew already that she’d have taken everything except the bed, the nightstands and the Formica wardrobe, because everything bar that had been hers. So too had the vibrantly coloured abstract prints whose frames were still outlined on the walls, and the large collection of books that used to fill up the shelves.
He went into the kitchen and saw that she’d left him a glass, a cup, a plate, two knives, two forks and a spoon. She’d also left some bread and cheese, and a full bottle of gin. Next to the gin was the rent book.
He was halfway through the gin when suddenly he couldn’t stand any more. He had to get out. He’d always hated this place and now, without Tessa, it felt like a cell. He had no clear idea where he would go, except he knew it couldn’t be to Allyson. Since he and Tessa had tried to move into the flat his shame was so great he didn’t have the nerve to face her. Nor could he face his father, whom he hadn’t seen since he’d walked out on his marriage. There was always Tessa’s new place, of course, but she hadn’t actually left the address and he certainly didn’t fancy running into Mark Reiner. There was something about that that just didn’t feel right, but he was too drunk to give it any focus, and too damn sorry for himself to care. All that really concerned him was where he could go to get out of this prison. And then it hit him, there was only one other place he could go, and fortunately he had just enough money to cover the cab fare.
‘Oh my God,’ Allyson murmured, as she and Zac and Justine wheeled their luggage into the noisy arrivals hall at Heathrow airport. ‘I don’t believe it.’ She was smiling all over her face, and the closer she got to where he was waiting, at the end of the barrier, the deeper she was blushing. ‘Hi,’ Mark said, handing her the flowers he was holding. ‘Congratulations.’
Allyson started to laugh, and glanced self-consciously at her colleagues who were clearly enjoying the moment. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I wasn’t expecting … I mean, I didn’t know you’d be here.’
His eyes were holding onto hers, even though she was trying to avoid them. ‘I had a meeting at a hotel nearby,’ he said, ‘so I checked what time your flight was coming in and … Here I am. Can I give you a ride into town?’
Allyson looked at Justine and Zac again, then threw out her hands. ‘Why not?’ she said. ‘Yes, that would be lovely.’
‘It certainly would,’ Zac agreed, starting to head out.
Justine kicked him. ‘We’ll get a cab,’ she said, smiling through her teeth.
‘But …’ Zac complained.
‘Take no notice of him,’ Allyson told Mark, ‘he’s always like that. He’s Zac O’Reilly by the way, and this is Justine Webb. My researchers.’
Mark shook their hands. ‘I’ll be happy to drive you into town too,’ he said. ‘I’ve got one of the company cars, so we’ll all fit in.’
‘Oh no!’ Justine cried. ‘We wouldn’t hear of it.’
‘Why wouldn’t we?’ Zac demanded.
‘Because…’ Justine responded.
‘Listen, please come with us,’ Allyson said. ‘This is too painful to go through any more.’
Zac and Justine were still arguing by the time they reached Mark’s car, though by now Zac was insisting they couldn’t accept the lift, and Justine was informing him they had to.
‘Just shut up, will you?’ Allyson said, as they got into the back seat.
Mark was laughing, and after holding the door open for Allyson to get in too, he slipped into the driver’s seat and started up the engine.
‘Never been in one of these before, have you?’ Zac was saying in the back. ‘It’s a Mercedes.’
‘Oh, and there was me thinking it was a Mars bar,’ Justine responded.
‘You hungry too?’ he said, pouncing on it.
Allyson looked at Mark and saw that he was still laughing. ‘What can I do but apologize?’ she said. Then to Zac, ‘If you ask to be taken to dinner you’re fired,’ she threatened.
He held up his hands, an assurance he wouldn’t dream of going any further.
‘It was a great programme you shot down there in Monaco,’ Mark said, clearing the ticket barrier and indicating to pull into the traffic. ‘The congratulations are extended to all of you.’
‘Does that mean we get a share in the flowers?’ Zac wanted to know.
‘Give me a moment and I’ll work out a quiet way to kill him,’ Justine said. Then both Mark and Allyson burst out laughing as they heard her whisper, ‘You’re going too far now, so stop it. I mean it, Zac, button up or I’ll do something drastic.’
‘Oh, what a temptress she is,’ Zac intoned, but after that he managed to keep quiet, at least until they got to the M4, by which time Allyson and Mark had realized that they really couldn’t have a proper conversation with those two in the back. So Mark gave her a quick wink, then began asking the researchers what they were working on for their next foreign transmission.
Allyson contributed little, for she was happy just to sit and listen, and allow the pleasure she’d felt at him being at the airport, and was still feeling sitting here next to him in this oversized vehicle of luxury, wash over her. This wasn’t the only contact they’d had lately, as he’d called her a couple of times in Monte Carlo, once to wish her and everyone else good luck with the recording, when they’d got on to talking about their mutual friends Valerie and Jean-Marc Clausonne; and another time when he’d wanted to know the name of the person she’d dealt with at the Société des Bains de Mer, so that he could pass it on to Claudia, his sister-in-law, whose cable station in the US was currently shooting a holiday show. On neither occasion had Allyson asked him about the woman who’d been mentioned at the Clausonnes’, and she certainly wasn’t going to embarrass herself by asking now.
What she did wonder, however, was if the meeting at the airport hotel had been a cover to make his gesture less pers
onal, but just before she got out of the car she spotted the hotel’s brochure in the pocket between the seats, so knew that it was genuine. Which meant that he hadn’t come all this way specially to meet her. But that was OK. It was nice that he’d come at all. Though how the hell she was going to explain it to Shelley, God only knew.
Shelley was staring at the exquisite bronze fan dancer Allyson had given her at Christmas. It was at the centre of a display case, one of her most prized possessions. It had been a gesture of friendship, a thank-you, but now Shelley wondered if it wasn’t really a means of trying to buy off her guilt. It wasn’t a generous thought, but it could be an accurate one if Allyson was already aware, back then, that something was starting to happen between her and Mark Reiner.
Shelley wondered where they were now, if they really were spending the evening together, as she’d suspected. If they were she’d like to find them and prove them liars, let them know that they hadn’t fooled her, for she knew they were seeing each other and trying to hide it from her. But even if she confronted them, what then? It was hardly going to make him want her, knowing she was stalking him about the town. It appalled her even to think she was considering it, though of course she’d never do it.
The way she was tormenting herself, tying herself up in knots of suspicion and resentment, was almost as bad as it being Allyson who’d come between them. Allyson, who’d attempted to assuage her guilt with a gift that must have cost her at least five thousand pounds. It was that exorbitant price tag that was doing so much to convince Shelley she was right in her suspicions. After all, they’d fallen out plenty of times before, but Allyson had never felt compelled to give her something so precious on those other occasions.
Shelley’s eyes moved to the elegant Night and Day clock that Allyson loved so much. It was the only thing Shelley had that Allyson wanted, whereas Allyson had virtually everything Shelley wanted. Or that was how it felt right now, and had many times over the years, while Shelley had been sleeping with Bob, who had never even come close to leaving Allyson for her. And now Allyson was winning the man again.
Around nine o’clock someone rang the doorbell downstairs. Shelley was tempted not to answer, but the ringing became so insistent she had to. When she heard Bob’s voice on the entryphone she almost laughed. All that surprised her about him being there was that he hadn’t come sooner. She’d have liked to tell him to get lost, but suddenly she felt in enough need of some company to make even his acceptable. So pushing the button to release the downstairs door, she opened her own front door then returned to the sitting room.
A few minutes later he walked in, bringing a cloud of chill night air with him. Shelley looked up from where she was sitting, and her eyes flew open at the state of his appearance.
‘What on earth happened to you?’ she said.
‘I got hit by a bus.’
Though she doubted it was the truth, it still wouldn’t have been hard to believe, for his face was quite badly bruised and there was a large gash above his right eye that had obviously been stitched. His left arm was in a sling, and when he moved he seemed to be limping. However, he smelt good, a Versace cologne that was one of her favourites.
‘So what do you want?’ she asked.
He seemed to flinch at the bluntness of her words, then obviously decided to match them with a bluntness of his own. ‘Money and somewhere to sleep,’ he answered.
She laughed incredulously. ‘And you came here for it? You must be desperate. What happened to Tessa?’
‘She left. Got herself a new place in Knightsbridge. Seems I’m too small-time for her now. She’s set her sights even higher.’
‘Not difficult to get higher than you, Bob,’ she remarked.
His mouth twisted, and the old fire she was used to made a fleeting return. ‘It was good enough for you once,’ he reminded her.
‘A lot more than once, as I recall,’ she said. ‘Do you want something to drink?’
He looked tempted, so tempted that she was amazed when he said, ‘No. I’m trying to get off it. How’s Allyson?’
Shelley turned away. ‘Why don’t you ask her?’ she said, going to the impressive Betty Joel-designed bar. ‘Oh, I forgot, you have to do it through a lawyer, don’t you, since you tried to pull that ridiculous stunt of moving into her flat.’
‘It’s mine too,’ he said feebly, then unbuttoning his camel-hair coat he slumped down in a chair and let his head fall forward. ‘I’m in a bad way, Shelley,’ he said.
There was only disdain on her face as she looked down at him. ‘Spare me the self-pity,’ she said. ‘You were the one who started screwing around with a kid, and you’ve got some nerve coming round here now that it’s all fallen apart. What did you expect, a sympathy fuck?’
Raising his head he looked at her with cold, hostile eyes. ‘It really pissed you off, that, didn’t it?’ he said. ‘Getting tossed out for someone half your age.’
‘Look who’s suffering,’ she responded.
His eyes dimmed and he turned away.
Shelley carried on mixing herself a martini.
It was several minutes before he spoke again. ‘You know, since you brought it up, a sympathy fuck, as you call it, wouldn’t go amiss.’
Shelley gave a scornful laugh. ‘You’re deluded.’
‘It wasn’t so long ago you were begging me for it,’ he reminded her. ‘Did you ever tell Allyson that? No, I bet you didn’t. You got the papers to tell her about Tessa though, didn’t you? It was you, wasn’t it, who tipped them off?’
‘Yes. It was me. She deserved rescuing from you.’
‘Oh, is that what you’re telling yourself? If you ask me it pissed you off big-time that I wouldn’t leave Allyson for you, so you reckoned you’d pay me back by making my affair with Tessa public. Must have come as a real blow to you when I actually left Allyson for Tessa.’
‘Bob, there’s only one of us in this room looking at a loser, and it isn’t you.’
’Fancy doing that to your best friend. You broke her heart.’
‘No. You broke her heart. But I don’t think she’s suffering any more. It doesn’t take long to get over you, Bob.’
He didn’t seem to have an answer for that, so she stood watching him as he stared at the fire.
‘You’re pathetic,’ she said after a while. ‘To think of everything you’ve lost for the sake of a fat little teenager. And now she’s famous where are you? Left with her footprints all over your face.’
His head came up and she saw something of his pain as he looked her straight in the eye. ‘Can I stay here tonight?’ he said.
‘No.’
From his expression it was obviously the answer he’d expected, but he seemed crushed nevertheless. ‘What about some money?’
‘No.’
‘Shelley, I’m destitute. I can’t even afford the rent on the little shithole she left me in.’
‘Talk to your wife. Oh sorry, the lawyer. Pity I can’t do the same, and make you talk to me through a lawyer.’
He grinned nastily. ‘That would be one way of getting yourself a man, wouldn’t it?’ he sneered. ‘To hire yourself a lawyer. Shit, even Allyson’s managed to find herself someone else already, but look at you, sitting here in this fucking upscale relic of a movie set, too beautiful and too stuck-up to admit you can’t get anyone to go the course. Do you know what, I often thought this about you, Shelley, for one of the most beautiful women I know, you’ve got to be one of the most resistible. Except when you’ve got your clothes off. Then you’re hot.’
Shelley could feel her temper rising, and was right on the brink of hitting back violently, devastatingly, for the way he’d managed to strike at the heart of her fears. But she’d almost rather die than let him know he had hurt her.
‘So Allyson’s seeing your new boss?’ he said, then frowned as he experienced that vague uneasiness he’d felt earlier when he’d thought of Mark Reiner.
Shelley’s heart turned over. ‘Who told you that?’ she
said.
‘Is she? Is that who I saw her with on New Year’s Eve?’
Shelley looked at him in disbelief. ‘It was all over the papers the next day,’ she said. Then, ‘Oh, I forgot, you were sobering up after your night in jail. You must have missed it.’
‘You’re such a bitch,’ he said, getting to his feet. ‘I’m wasting my time here. I thought you might take pity on an old friend, but you don’t know what pity is, do you? Come to that, you don’t know what a friend is, either.’
Shelley picked up the phone as it rang.
‘Shell? It’s me. Mummy’s had to cancel on me. Do you still want dinner?’
Shelley’s smile grew as she realized what this meant. ‘My treat,’ she said to Allyson. ‘I’ll meet you at San Lorenzo in half an hour.’ She hung up and turned back to Bob. ‘Are you still here?’ she said.
Shoving his hands in his pockets he walked off to the front door.
‘Let me guess,’ she said, noticing his limp again. ‘You got into a fight.’
‘Something like that,’ he admitted.
As he opened the door she reached for her bag and took out her purse. ‘Here,’ she said, handing him a fifty-pound note. ‘And don’t spend it on booze.’
Taking it he said, ‘Was that Allyson on the phone?’
She nodded, and he looked so dejected that for a moment she really did feel sorry for him. Then, remembering something he’d said earlier, she said, ‘By the way, you didn’t tell me who Tessa’s sights have risen to.’
He slammed the door in her face and laughing she went to freshen her make-up.
Allyson watched Shelley coming towards her. Though she was anxious about how the evening would go, she was glad she’d come, because the last thing she wanted was Shelley to find out through office gossip that Mark had been at the airport earlier. He’d dropped Allyson at her flat an hour ago, with no mention of going on for dinner, which she’d half-expected, though he had asked her to come to his office at five tomorrow. She had no idea what that was about, and hadn’t asked because Zac and Justine were still in the car. Heaven only knew where he dropped them, though she couldn’t imagine he’d played taxi service right to their doors. However, that was hardly any cause for concern when she was sitting here trying to work out what to tell Shelley.