The Ex-Husband

by Hamilton, Karen

  When I don’t respond, she says, ‘Let’s get you dressed,’ gathering herself and patting me on the hand. ‘You were saving the long, sapphire dress for the party, right?’

  I nod. I loved that dress the moment I saw it. I fell for the always-successful sales method of seeing the dress on one of the shop mannequins in a boutique window before I left for Miami. I pictured myself wearing it, imagining that I would exude the same type of haughty elegance. I couldn’t afford it but I tried it on, regardless. I had to have it. I bought it on my credit card then reported it as fraud. The boutique manager was nice. I didn’t want her to be out of pocket. I figured it was better for the card company to swallow up the bill, rather than a small-business owner.

  After my shower, I give in and put it on. I’m glad that I decided to acquire it. It feels good, like fresh armour as I head into battle in unfamiliar territory. I look in the mirror. I look almost normal for a person who is in fear for her life.

  ‘Looking good, hun,’ says Lucy. ‘Give us a twirl.’

  I do so. The fabric swirls around me.

  ‘Gorgeous!’ says Lucy as she picks up her make-up case. ‘Right, let’s go to the salon and flower ourselves up.’

  A micro expression of fear crosses her face. She looks at me and quickly smiles, all traces of what I saw erased. A chill comes over me. I’ve never heard Lucy use this phrase before. It was one of Sam’s favourite expressions.

  I follow her up the stairs, my dress swishing around my ankles. Lucy adjusts the lighting in the salon and orders me into her chair. She opens a bottle of champagne and pours two glasses, bubbles spilling down the side of one.

  ‘Cheers!’

  We clink glasses. I sip, trying to unravel exactly what it is about Lucy’s words that have unsettled me so.

  ‘Look at us,’ she says. ‘Who would have thought we would end up here?’

  Indeed.

  My phone vibrates. A message from Lewis even though it is almost midnight back home. I click it open.

  I’ve been looking at your photos and there’s one of a woman in a red top standing near a waterfall. She was my mystery date!!! The one who ghosted me. Different hair colour but it’s her, I’m sure, unless she has a twin. Why is she with you???!! Weird.

  I turn my phone around to hide the screen from Lucy’s sight. My hands feel shaky. Lucy smiles at me in the mirror.

  I smile back. I watch her, heart thudding, oblivious to my inner turmoil as my mind scans, lighthouse-like, for all the little clues I missed. I don’t need to scroll through my photos to know that Lucy was wearing a red top the day we visited the waterfall.

  She blow-dries my hair; the heat of the drier burns my neck. Afterwards, she insists that I need more make-up than usual.

  ‘Not being rude, Charlotte, but you should make more of an effort.’

  Her phone beeps at the same time as one of her eye pencils snaps.

  ‘Bugger! Do me a favour and grab a sharpener out of my bag, would you?’ she says, taking a gulp of champagne before picking up her phone.

  I unzip her bag. I fumble around. Lip gloss. Foundation. Prescription sleeping pills. Seems Lucy needs more than her eyeshades and earplugs to sleep. I can’t see a sharpener. But there is something that catches my eye. A lipstick with the lid half-off which isn’t actually a lipstick at all but a memory stick, disguised. Like the type Sam used. I glance up. She is still furiously typing on her phone then stopping every few seconds to take a gulp of champagne. I push the lid onto the USB and slide it into my own clutch bag. I look up and almost jump. Lucy is looking at me.

  ‘Found one?’ she says.

  I rummage around in her bag some more.

  ‘Yes. I’ll sharpen it,’ I say.

  I lean over the wastepaper basket, twisting the pencil. My hands feel weak and shaky as if I’ve done something wrong. Which I most certainly haven’t. I brush off residual shavings from the sharpener, return it to her bag and hand Lucy the eye pencil.

  I hold my breath as she leans in close.

  ‘Close your eyes.’

  Her breath smells of toothpaste and champagne. I wonder if she can hear my heartbeat. Lucy and Sam. Sam and Lucy. Why did Lucy pretend to be interested in Lewis? Because she wanted information about me. She could easily have worn a wig. She presses the eyeliner near the corner of my eyes, which weep a little. I hear her ease a tissue from out of the box in front of the mirror then she gently dabs. Then I feel strokes of a brush as she applies eyeshadow.

  ‘Open your eyes again,’ she says. ‘Right, now for blusher. Suck in your cheeks for a moment.’

  I do as she asks.

  ‘Ta da, what do you think?’

  I don’t look like me. I look like the best version of myself. Greens and browns are expertly shaded above my eyes. I have long eyelashes. It’s impossible to tell that I’ve had a rough day.

  ‘You’ve done an amazing job, thank you.’

  My voice sounds normal.

  ‘Excellent. Top up our champagne,’ she says. ‘I’ll just finish up my hair and make-up and then it’s off to the ball we go.’

  I smile and look down at my dress. It gives me fresh confidence. My anklet slips down my ankle slightly as I stand up. In my ears are pearls. Real, but pearls are simple enough that they don’t scream for attention. They are timeless. Elegant. Classy. Alexandra taught me that. That and not to trust anyone. A lesson I should’ve learned a lot younger.

  ‘Ready?’ says Lucy.

  ‘Ready,’ I say.

  We walk side by side to the outside deck. I spot Mariella’s husband, Owen, who has joined us. He nods a curt ‘hello’ to me but shows no real sign of recognition. Two of their older children are sitting with tablets near the bar. Apparently the younger two are back at the villa with their nanny.

  I accept a bright yellow cocktail from a passing crew member as Harrison approaches.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he says. ‘I heard the news.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  I am touched at the look of concern in his expression.

  I don’t have time to waste with small talk. I need to get off this boat before we set sail for Trinidad and Tobago.

  ‘Are you returning to the villa tonight?’ I ask Mariella.

  She looks surprised at such a direct question.

  ‘Yes. Daniel is going to come over on the boat with us. We won’t be carrying on for the last part of the celebrations. We just came to celebrate Gina’s special evening.’

  I must board that boat with them.

  I start to slip away to the cabin to pack my bag. I’m only halfway down the stairs when Lucy’s voice calls out from behind me.

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘I’ll be back in five,’ I say, twisting round with a smile.

  ‘Don’t be too long. You’ll miss the best part of the evening.’

  In our cabin, I check that my laptop, chargers, spare USBs, credit cards and all my other important belongings are packed. I stuff my clothes into my bag, not bothering to fold them properly. I keep an eye on the door, I don’t trust Lucy not to come in under the pretence that she’s making sure I’m all right. Laptop under my arm, I open the cabin door, hurry down the corridor and step into the cinema room. If I hide from immediate view, it will buy me some time to dig. I plug in her memory stick.

  It was too much to hope for that it wouldn’t be password protected but I have a hunch. I type in the joint password Sam and I used. I am right, first time. Sam gave this to her. My screen fills up with pictures of him and her. Lucy and Sam. Very much a couple. Seeing him so alive, so happy, is a fresh punch to the gut. I click on the dates. Photos of Lucy and Sam date way back to before he and I married. Oh. My. God. Lucy most definitely was one of his other women.

  But why has she pretended to be my friend, back then and now? I search some more, my fingers typing so fast that I keep making mistakes and hitting the wrong keys. There are lists: Lewis’s home address, photos of me taken by Sam, my client list. How the bloody hell did
she get that?

  I message Lewis.

  Did you ever leave this mystery woman alone when she came back to your place?

  I wait. He’s read it. Thank God he’s not asleep yet. Typing . . .

  The door to the cinema room opens. I crouch down by a seat and gently close my laptop lid.

  ‘Charlotte?’ Lucy’s voice calls out. I can hear my own breathing.

  ‘She must be somewhere,’ I hear her say to someone as the door closes again.

  A message from Lewis:

  Yes. She wanted a takeaway curry from a place that didn’t deliver, so I nipped out to get it. Have you asked her about me?

  Not yet, but I will. She’s deceived me too. More asap.

  I open up my laptop and restart my search.

  I go cold. There are lists of people Sam and I befriended. Colin is in there too, plus a copy of his obituary. I feel sick. Does she know what Sam did? Is this what all this is about? I keep searching. Under Jake and Megs are Jake’s bank account details. They aren’t the only bank details: there are lists of up to twenty others. Alexandra Armstrong. Even poor Basil and Madelaine didn’t escape his greed, despite their generosity. Looking at all this information, I still can’t quite piece it all together. Was Lucy involved with Sam’s identity theft? Why, then, is it only me who is being threatened?

  I am blinded by a bright light. I drop my laptop, and it clatters to the ground.

  ‘There you are,’ says Thomas. ‘What on earth are you doing here in the dark? Lucy’s worried sick. She’s scared you’ve had a relapse or something.’

  I check my laptop screen. Not broken, thank God. I pull out the USB and place it in my bag.

  ‘I wanted time alone,’ I say. ‘To grieve. In peace.’

  ‘Sorry,’ he says. ‘Are you feeling up to returning to the deck? Josephine wants to thank you.’

  He stands and watches over me while I return my laptop to my cabin, then I follow him back to the party.

  Lucy comes scuttling over to my side the moment I step out on deck. She takes hold of my hand and squeezes it. I stiffen.

  ‘Thank god you’re OK.’ I want to demand answers from her, but Josephine rises to give a speech, which she reads out from a handwritten piece of paper.

  ‘Thank you all for coming,’ she says, as if we have all nipped out to our local pizzeria and forked out for a bowl of pasta and a bottle of house red. ‘It means a lot that you all took the time out of your life schedules so that we could be together. Thank you, also, to Mariella and Owen for their hospitality. The Cleobella is, without a doubt, absolutely the best yacht I have ever been on.’

  Polite smiles and sips of champagne all around the table.

  Josephine raises her glass.

  ‘Cheers to us all. And a very heartfelt thank you too, to each and every one of the staff.’

  Everyone smiles. Hear, hears! ring out. Mariella smiles over at Alicia, as does Charles. Garth takes a large glug of champagne. His glass is topped up and he takes another gulp. Harrison looks at me. I smile, not caring who is watching. Thomas looks at me with concern on his face. He has told me not to push myself tonight. Work-wise, I won’t. Arabella is looking at her phone. Sebastian is gazing out to sea. Gina smiles but her eyes dart towards Garth and his multiple empty champagne flutes. Norma is also keeping a watchful eye on Garth.

  I feel detached. A combination of tiredness, painkillers, champagne, shock, disbelief and anxiety because I’m not sure what, exactly, to be afraid of. Lucy is laughing at something Harrison has said and she looks so benign, so innocent, as if she really doesn’t have anything dark or deceitful on her mind at all. Then again, I never used to either when I was befriending guests. Ditto with Sam.

  I wait and watch. Thomas shares the video clip of Josephine’s speech on the group chat, which means that everyone – apart from Sebastian – is looking at their phones.

  ‘I’m sharing it with my sister in Australia,’ exclaims Gina, ‘so she can experience the moment!’

  She looks thrilled.

  ‘Right, everyone,’ says Josephine, ‘listen, please. It’s time for the important speech of the evening.’

  Garth takes his cue and stands. He fumbles around in his pockets for his speech. He mentions all the usual: love, patience, acceptance. He tells a funny anecdote about when he and Gina first met. At the end, he does a mock ‘official’ proposal and presents Gina with a ring. He opens a blue box, oyster-like, and she acts all surprised, pretending she hasn’t actually seen the ring before.

  Everyone smiles at her joke and deliberate bad acting. I smile too. As I do so, it strikes me how surreal it is to be this outwardly dispassionate when my whole world has been upended.

  Garth places it on her finger, and she displays her left hand to everyone. The phones all come out again as everyone clicks away.

  ‘Let’s go and dance,’ says Norma. ‘In the bar area.’

  I watch them all filter inside. I hold back. I have to shake Lucy off, get my bag and catch the small boat headed for the shore with Mariella and Owen.

  Harrison comes back out and picks up his phone from the table. ‘Aren’t you coming in?’

  ‘I’m going to give the dancing a miss,’ I say.

  ‘All too much?’ he says. ‘Totally understandable. Obviously I didn’t know the guy, but . . .’

  ‘Thanks.’

  We stand in silence. We are alone on deck. Inside, the bar is lit up like a cinema screen. Everyone is happy, or giving a good impression of being so. Garth and Gina are slow dancing. Josephine and Mariella are laughing. Lucy is looking out of the window in our direction.

  ‘I’m going back in,’ he says.

  I lean against the railing and take a deep breath. While doing so, I get this strange compulsion to jump. I have a sudden, violent desire to experience what it must have felt like for Sam before he fell. Slowly, I take off my heels and pad barefoot down the steps to the lower deck. I need to get away sooner than planned. I don’t want to risk hanging around waiting for Mariella and family. Hugh is standing near the tender, cleaning the deck with a mop. I tell him that I need to go to shore in five minutes.

  ‘It’s an emergency. I just need to run back to my cabin to get my bag.’

  Hugh doesn’t question me.

  ‘Sure.’

  I run upstairs. I check through the window. Everyone is still at the party, including Lucy, who is talking to Garth.

  Back in my cabin, I grab my bag then head outside to the small boat. There is no sign of Hugh. Instead, Jon stands there.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ I ask.

  ‘Are you all right, Charlotte?’

  ‘I’m in a hurry,’ I say. ‘Hugh said he would take me to shore.’

  ‘Bit late in the evening, isn’t it? Hot date?’

  ‘Ha, ha. Something like that.’

  ‘Hugh just went upstairs. I’m sure he’ll be back in a minute.’

  ‘I’ll go and find him,’ I say, walking back up the stairs.

  Where the hell is he?

  As I walk along the outer deck, my phone rings. JJ. I stop to answer it. But before I can do so, I feel a push, then another hard shove, that lifts me up, then over and my stomach drops. I am falling. There is a sting as I smack the surface before I feel myself getting pulled under. Seawater goes up my nose. My dress sticks to me, making it almost impossible to swim as I get heavier. I aim for the surface and look up at the lights, before I choke and go back under. I hear a splash, as if someone else has jumped in too. A life ring. I cling on to it. When I look up it’s hard to focus, but I see four faces looking down at me: Harrison’s, Jon’s, Lucy’s and Thomas’s.

  I slip back beneath the water.

  THIRTY-SIX

  Now

  I am wrapped in a blanket and being offered brandy in the main lounge. Everyone, it seems, is gathered around, watching me.

  I take a large sip of Sebastian’s favourite cognac. It’s warming. I take another welcome sip. It soothes my aching throat. Lord know
s how much seawater I swallowed. My eyes are stinging and I can’t stop shivering.

  ‘I need to get back on shore,’ I say. ‘It’s an emergency. Where’s my phone? Where’s my bag?’

  ‘It’s fine, don’t worry, I have them,’ says Lucy.

  ‘Can you give them to me?’

  ‘Sure, in a minute,’ she smiles. ‘When you’re properly dry and have stopped shivering.’

  ‘Mariella,’ I say urgently. ‘I need to get back on shore. I need to come with you.’

  ‘Of course,’ she says. ‘But we’ll need to wait for the boat to return.’

  I look over to my right. The tender is gone. Clutching at straws, I say, ‘What about the helicopter? Where is the pilot? Rather than hanging around for the boat, we could fly to shore.’

  Everyone looks at me and I hear low voices.

  Ex-husband dead, fell into the sea, head injury, was in hospital, saw her standing by the railings, shock, grief . . .

  I shout loudly just to make them all stop.

  ‘It wasn’t an accident. Someone pushed me! Where were you, Lucy?’

  ‘Me? At the party. Why would I push you, Charlotte? We’re friends.’

  ‘Yet you made it out on deck pretty quickly. I saw you peering down at me.’ I look around. ‘Did anyone see what happened?’

  ‘Everyone said not,’ says Tim.

  ‘Well, someone knows something, because I did not jump.’

  Before anyone else can respond, I hear the sound of a motor approaching. It’s the boat, thank God.

  ‘That’ll be the doctor,’ Harrison says. ‘Not long now.’ He tops up my cognac. ‘Best thing for shock. And it’s the first and no doubt the last time my father will ever share this with anyone.’

  I smile to show that I get the joke, that I’m perfectly all right, given the circumstances.

  ‘I blame myself,’ says Thomas. ‘I thought this evening would be a good distraction for her, but I fear it was too much, too soon.’

  ‘Don’t blame yourself,’ I hear Josephine say. ‘None of us realised how much she was suffering. She put on a very brave face.’