Despite her defiant words, Rick had picked up the tell-tale quiver in her voice. ‘You’re not going out,’ he said, the curve of a victorious smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.
She turned away from him before he could see the tears welling in her eyes. She was weak-willed and they both knew it. What was the point in fighting it? she asked herself. Would it be so bad to live a miserable life in pampered luxury?
Rick stepped closer and put his arms around her waist. ‘Look at the state of you. You can’t be going out when you’re so run-down.’ Elle dropped her head in defeat and Rick took this as an invitation to kiss the back of her neck. She shuddered but not in a good way. ‘But I really am sorry about the other night. You’re right, I could have behaved better with Angie. I just didn’t like coming home and finding you both in a drunken heap,’ he said. ‘I tell you what, why don’t you invite her over for dinner here instead?’
Elle didn’t feel run-down, she felt beaten. She had wanted to see Angie so she could tell her about her meeting with Corinne. She had wanted someone to justify her feelings about her dad and to help her find a way of putting her life back together. ‘I’ll ask,’ she said, but suspected it would be more a matter of begging Angie to accept an invitation to dinner with Rick.
10
Inviting Angie wasn’t as much of a problem as Elle had envisaged. She suspected it had something to do with the desperation in her voice and the way she gulped back a sob as she waited for the refusal.
Elle spent most of Saturday afternoon in the kitchen with Charlie. She had discovered a joy of cooking like never before. It gave her an excuse to avoid Rick. Every time she looked at him she was reminded of what she had become and, more painfully, what she had given up. As she lowered the heat beneath a pan of spiced soup, it was the questions in her head that continued to bubble and roil.
Why didn’t she believe in herself? She may not have been clever enough to go to Cambridge University but she had qualified as a nurse. That proved something, didn’t it?
She had never lived on her own but that was only because her parents lived so close to the hospital. She could have fended for herself. Couldn’t she?
And why had she given up her career so easily? Why had Rick made her believe that she couldn’t juggle a career and motherhood? Why, when he was telling her how incompetent she was, had her parents simpered to Rick’s scathing judgements, crudely wrapped up as concern?
Why didn’t anyone believe in her?
Why didn’t she believe in herself?
There were so many questions but when it came down to it, only one answer. It was simple. She had inherited her dad’s inferiority complex and Rick had thrived on it.
With half an hour to spare before her guest arrived, Elle went upstairs to change. Charlie sat on the bed and watched her applying her makeup.
‘Can I stay up until ten o’clock?’
She stopped what she was doing and turned to face him. Charlie was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed and using the pattern on the patchwork quilt to line up his spaceships, creating a miniature landing pad on the criss-crosses of an imaginary planet. He rolled a bright orange moon-buggy absentmindedly up and down his shin as he met her gaze. He was becoming a tough negotiator and his eyes narrowed. She narrowed hers. ‘Eight.’
Charlie raised an eyebrow. ‘Nine-thirty?’
‘Eight o’clock,’ Elle repeated. ‘Any more objections and it’s seven-thirty as usual.’
Her son huffed.
‘We could always ask your dad?’
‘No, no,’ he said, immediately forgetting his poker face. ‘Deal.’
She turned back to the mirror. A final dusting of foundation and a smear of pale lipstick and she was done. Elle tucked a blonde curl behind her ear as she slipped on a pair of gold earrings. She stood up to fasten the matching necklace that sat just above the V-shaped neckline to her dress, which revealed the tiniest glimpse of cleavage.
‘Here, let me do that,’ Rick said. He had been in his study all afternoon and she had been hoping his work would keep him preoccupied through to the evening so she could have some time alone with Angie.
Elle gave Charlie a brave smile as Rick struggled with the clasp.
‘Mummy looks beautiful, doesn’t she?’
Rick finished what he was doing and turned her around to face him. She hadn’t worn this particular dress since before Charlie was born. It was a deep maroon satin with classic lines that curved around her waist and was cut just above the knee. ‘Yes, she’d make a few quid on the streets.’
By the tone of his dad’s voice, Charlie could only assume that this was a huge compliment. ‘Ten thousand pounds!’
Rick’s insult stung and Charlie’s innocent complicity only compounded her misery. She tried desperately to think of a retort but struggled to find one that wouldn’t hurt Charlie’s feelings.
Taking in the dumbstruck expression on her face, Rick laughed then shook his head. ‘I’m going to have a quick shower. Can you dig out a clean shirt and the grey suit for me? Thanks, sweetheart,’ he said without waiting for a response.
Swallowing her pride, Elle did as she was told, then took a moment to watch Charlie gathering up his toys. She would do anything for her son and if years of ridicule were all she had to sufferer to secure a better life for him then that was surely a small price to pay.
The doorbell rang and Charlie gasped in excitement. ‘It’s Angie!’ he cried and grabbed the last toy spaceship in his already laden arms. He ran out of the bedroom and into his own. There was a clatter of metal as he threw everything into his toy box. Elle was following and barely registered the smile of amusement that had crept onto her face. He was her reason for being.
‘Not so fast, you’re going to fall,’ she warned as he raced down the stairs, not stopping until his body hit the front door with full force.
Charlie was trying to jump up to reach the door knob and Elle was laughing now as she wrapped her arms around his waist and lifted him up to reach it. With a little help, the door swung open wide.
‘Oh,’ Elle said after she and her son had stood staring at their new visitor for longer than was strictly polite. ‘Sorry, we weren’t expecting it to be you.’
The man standing in front of her was six foot two with broad shoulders and short-cropped hair. He lifted up a bottle of wine and gave her an uncomfortable smile. ‘Rick invited me, I assumed you knew,’ Chris said.
Charlie tried to peak around the side of Chris’s large frame. ‘Is Angie with you?’ he asked.
‘No, son,’ Chris said to Charlie, but he was still looking at Elle as if her puzzled gaze would give him answers. Instead it brought more questions. ‘Is that who you were expecting?’
‘You’d better come in,’ she said. ‘Rick’s in the shower but he shouldn’t be too long. Would you like a drink? I think I would. A big one.’ By the time Elle had stopped rambling on they were already in the kitchen. ‘Sorry, let me take your coat.’
It didn’t take long for the first glasses to be filled and devoured. ‘Maybe I should phone Angie,’ Elle suggested.
‘Or I could just leave.’
‘You’ll do no such thing. I’ll have one of those, sweetheart,’ Rick said. The scent of his aftershave overpowered the warm, spiced aroma of the Moroccan lamb stew simmering in the oven.
The doorbell rang again.
‘Angie!’ Charlie cried, only this time Elle couldn’t share his excitement.
‘Shall I get it?’ Rick asked cheerfully.
‘I think I’d better go,’ she said, still not quite believing what was happening.
‘Are you going to tell me what you’re playing at?’ Chris was asking Rick as she left.
The waft of fresh air as Elle opened the front door wasn’t enough to push back the growing sense of dread, but she did her best to greet her unsuspecting friend with a smile.
Charlie’s greeting was more exuberant and Angie crouched down to give him a bear hug. ‘Hello, bi
g guy,’ she said. With the little boy’s head buried in her neck, she glanced up at Elle. The false smile on her friend’s face didn’t fool her and when Angie stood up, she couldn’t resist putting her hand on Elle’s cheek.
The simple show of affection made Elle feel all the more uncomfortable. She had unwittingly become Rick’s accomplice. ‘I’m really sorry, Angie, but Chris is here. Rick invited him. I’ll understand if you don’t want to come in.’
The look of puzzlement on Angie’s face was reminiscent of the one her estranged husband had worn only moments earlier. Then she shrugged. ‘Let the games commence,’ she said.
It was Angie who led the way into the kitchen where Rick and Chris were still loitering. Chris looked embarrassed but, true to form, Angie had an air of confidence that Rick would do well to heed if he knew what was good for him. ‘Care to explain?’ she asked.
Rick came over to her and gave her an affectionate peck on the cheek. ‘Call me all the names you like, and this is probably a big mistake, but you two mean a lot to us. Everyone keeps saying how crazy it is that you’ve split up. Now, I’m not expecting miracles, but would it do any harm for us all to have a pleasant evening together like the good old days?’
‘I never took you for an old romantic,’ Angie said.
Glasses were filled as everyone shuffled around, trying to find a comfortable space in the large kitchen that was starting to feel a bit too snug. Elle was making a glass of juice for Charlie when the first exchange between Chris and Angie finally came.
‘You look nice,’ he said. ‘Is that dress new?’
‘Yes, and it cost a fortune,’ Angie told him. Elle had her back to them but she imagined that her friend had raised an eyebrow. The note of challenge was a familiar one between the two. Their relationship had always been tempestuous and they were both strong-willed, but their constant war of words had always sparked with the kind of passion she could only dream of.
‘Mummy looks pretty too,’ Charlie piped up. ‘Daddy said she could make lots and lots of money out on the streets.’
‘Really? Well, I’m sure your daddy meant she could be a supermodel on the catwalk,’ Angie said.
‘Yes, that’s exactly what I meant.’
Rick had a fixed grin as he stared at Angie. Holding his gaze, Angie said, ‘Why don’t you boys retire to the dining room while we girls do what we do best? Cook something up for our men.’ She reached over to tickle Charlie’s sides. ‘And that means you, too.’
‘Charlie’s chief cook,’ Rick told her. ‘I think he wants to stay here and help Mummy. Don’t you, Charlie?’
‘No, he doesn’t,’ Angie replied for him. ‘Here, I’ll carry your juice in for you.’
‘It’s OK, let me,’ Chris offered and with some effort, he herded the men out of the kitchen, leaving Angie and Elle to their own devices.
‘I’m sorry, Angie.’
‘You know, even if there had been the remotest chance of a reconciliation, there’s no way it’s happening now. I’m not letting Rick take the credit.’
‘So there was a remote chance?’
Angie spoke slowly and deliberately. ‘No, Elle. I have no time for a man who has to wait for an invitation to dinner before he’ll think about fighting for his marriage. Now, back to more pressing matters,’ she said, picking up her drink and the pace. ‘I want you to tell me exactly what’s going on. I love you to bits, Elle, but I was being polite about the supermodel thing. Your makeup hasn’t completely camouflaged the dark circles under your eyes. What on earth’s happened?’
Elle knew they wouldn’t have long; there was no time to sugar-coat her news. ‘I was right. He was having an affair.’
Angie’s jaw tightened and her words were taut. ‘I knew it!’
‘He spent all his married life living a lie, we all did …’ Elle stopped. She looked at Angie and caught the flush rising in her cheeks as her friend looked away. Her blood ran cold. ‘You thought I was talking about Rick, didn’t you?’
Angie twisted the wine glass in her hand. ‘It did sound like that was what you meant,’ she said in a lame attempt to dig herself out of a hole.
‘You really think he’s having an affair?’
‘Don’t you?’ There was genuine surprise in Angie’s voice, but then her face softened as she had second thoughts. ‘Sorry, Elle, you’ve got enough to deal with as it is. Please don’t listen to me. I’m only looking for new ways to demonize the man that causes you such misery.’
‘I’m not saying it’s never crossed my mind. He does go off the radar quite a bit,’ Elle said. ‘And last Saturday, when he said he was called away to work … Where did he go?’
‘You really could do better.’
Elle laughed bitterly. ‘My dad would say I already have, but it doesn’t matter what’s best for me. It’s all about what’s best for Charlie.’
‘The two aren’t mutually exclusive. If you’re happy then Charlie will thrive and if Rick never appreciates you, and if he does have … outside interests,’ Angie added diplomatically, ‘then how can you be happy?’
‘Do you know what’s really sad? It wouldn’t bother me if Rick did have someone else. Actually, I think I’d feel relieved. With any luck, he’d leave. Then I wouldn’t have to make the decision.’
‘You’re really thinking about it, aren’t you?’
Elle avoided the answer by looking at the kitchen clock on the wall. It was eight o’clock. ‘I’d better get Charlie to bed. Could you start taking the soup into the dining room for me?’
With some brief instructions, Angie was left to serve up and to wonder if her friend was finally beginning to see sense.
11
When Elle tucked Charlie up in bed he had a grim look on his face to equal his mother’s. Hoping for the best, she ignored it and returned downstairs. Her dinner guests were gathered in the dining room, although they were yet to sit down. Chris was lighting the tall candles in the crystal centrepiece. He didn’t notice the splintering of miniature rainbows flickering across the polished table which added warmth and colour to the black-and-white decor. He was too busy casting furtive glances at his wife, who in turn was apparently too engrossed in the demanding task of ladling chickpea soup into bowls to notice the attention. Rick was opening a bottle of red wine and he had a satisfied smile on his face as he watched the watcher.
‘Thanks, Angie,’ Elle said. ‘Now everyone sit down before it gets cold.’
It was no accident that Elle had made dishes that could easily be stretched to accommodate an extra dinner guest. Rick had been involved in deciding the menu and had planned it to perfection. His brazen interference continued as he guided Angie to her seat and indicated for Chris to sit opposite her.
‘Did Charlie complain much?’ Angie asked, turning away from Rick and the source of her barely disguised annoyance.
‘He’s been playing up lately,’ Rick told Chris. ‘Elle’s doing her best, but if he doesn’t settle tonight then I think I’ll have to go up and read him the riot act.’
‘Daddy’s word is law,’ Angie observed.
‘He’s going to have to start behaving once there’s a new baby on the scene.’
The spoonful of soup that hadn’t quite made it to her lips trembled in Elle’s hand, but it was Angie who spoke first. ‘You’re not pregnant, are you?’
Rick laughed. ‘No, not yet, but give us time. Didn’t you tell Angie?’ he asked his wife in mock surprise. ‘I’m sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t realize we were only telling a select few.’ He raised his hands by way of an apology to Angie, seeking her forgiveness that she wasn’t included in their circle of trust. ‘It will be good for Elle to have something positive to look forward to after the horrendous time she’s had lately. In fact it will be good for us all. Children keep a family solid. I can’t help thinking that maybe things would have been different for you two if only you hadn’t been so keen to put off having babies, Angie.’
‘I don’t think any number of children can make a f
ailing marriage work,’ she told him.
‘But it might have made us try a little bit harder to make it work,’ Chris offered. Whether it was deliberate or not, he had managed to defuse the tension by completely derailing Angie’s train of thought. For once, his wife was speechless.
‘I hope you all like the soup,’ Elle said, taking advantage of the lull in the conversation. She wasn’t enjoying the sport Angie and Rick were making of their lives. She had lost the game already. She had proven to herself time and time again that she wasn’t strong enough to stand up to Rick. But the prospect of having another child to love and protect, all the while pretending to give Rick her undivided attention was unbearable. She wanted to run away, and that impulse was becoming more and more difficult to ignore as she sat at the dining table playing the perfect hostess.
There was a smattering of compliments but after an all too brief respite the battle resumed. ‘You’re going to have to cut back on your hours and help Elle out more if you do have another baby,’ Angie said.
‘Or work harder still for an expanding family,’ Rick countered. ‘Not that I’m complaining. It’s my pleasure and my duty to provide for them.’
‘But it must be terribly draining for you. What was it that was so urgent last week, anyway?’
‘Sorry?’
Elle gave Angie a warning glare but it missed its target. Angie was looking in the opposite direction and Elle followed her gaze. Rick was playing nervously with his cutlery and she couldn’t help but feel some vicarious satisfaction. She wished she could make him that unnerved.
‘Do you remember what it was, Chris?’
‘Angie,’ Chris warned.
There was a gentle thump upstairs and all eyes were raised to the ceiling. Rick jumped up but Elle was faster, her fight-or-flight instinct paying dividends. ‘I’ll go,’ she said. ‘Angie, I hate to do this again, but do you mind checking on the main course?’
It was a poorly disguised attempt to separate the warring factions and although Angie agreed she didn’t look defeated.
The Keeper of Secrets Page 6