She wasn’t sure she wanted to ask him what was wrong.
‘Annie …’ He turned to her, and his expression looked suddenly desperate.
‘What is it?’
‘Yoo-hoo, guys! I knew I’d find you lovebirds along here somewhere.’ Canadian Morag’s round, eager face appeared over the sea wall above them. ‘Don’t move, I’m coming down.’
Richard covered his face with his hands. ‘I can’t do this.’ He got up and hurried up the slope, pushing rudely past Morag on her way down. ‘Sorry, Morag, off to bed … ’night.’
‘Whoa, he seems in a helluva rush. Everything OK here?’ She sat down close to Annie, huffing and puffing from her walk. Morag, some distant cousin of both Richard and Enid and the good-natured scourge of everyone’s weekend, pulled down the zip of her purple anorak to retrieve her camera from an inside pocket.
‘Isn’t this awesome …’ Her voice had dropped from its customary yell. ‘D’you think it’s too dark for a shot?’ She aimed her camera at the sea. ‘Rhona and the kids just won’t believe all the rellies I’ve met this week. I wish they could’ve been here, but, you know, we went online back in November last year …’ She was off. No conversation with Morag was
complete without the tiniest details of all her online bargains – from plane tickets to kitchen whisks to four-wheel drives.
Annie just let it wash over her, wondering what her husband had been about to say.
‘I’d better go and check if Richard’s OK … he wasn’t feeling too good.’
‘Lordy, I hope it wasn’t something he ate.’ Morag clutched her chest. ‘Did he have the chicken? I thought it had a weird—’
‘No, he had the pasta.’ She cut Morag short and produced a final smile. ‘It’s been so nice meeting you … safe trip home.’
The Canadian looked disappointed. ‘I hope he’s not sick. You know where I am if you need anything. I’ve a whole trunk full of medication … can’t be too careful.’
‘You certainly can’t.’
The hotel room was in darkness when she got back, and there was no sign of Richard. She went down to check the bar, but it was closed. Getting back to the room, she called his mobile, but the responding buzz came from the bedside table. What was he about to say? The question kept repeating itself over and over in her mind. But although her heart fluttered with anxiety, her brain refused to acknowledge the possibilities.
She sat on the bed, channel-hopping on the flat wall-mounted TV. There was nothing she could do but wait. At some point she must have fallen asleep, because the red digital display said 2:07 the next time she looked, the television
still burbling quietly on. He’ll have gone for a drive, a walk … be sitting somewhere by the sea. He’ll be back in a minute. What was he about to say? The room was hot and she got up and opened the window wider. The soft sea breeze cooled her cheeks as she stood listening to the rhythmic beat of the waves. She took long slow breaths. A man of almost rigid probity – essential for someone in charge of other people’s money – Richard had rarely showed signs of temperament in the past. Yet Daniel’s arrival seemed to have changed him, almost overnight.
‘Annie?’
She jumped out of her skin. Richard was standing within inches of her, his face haggard with tiredness, bluish from the chilly night air.
‘Where have you been?’ Her voice sounded hoarse.
‘Sorry …’ He stood there, arms hanging by his sides, and just looked at her. The expression in his eyes frightened her.
She pushed him gently backwards until he flopped down on the bed. ‘Please … what is it? Tell me.’
He gazed at her for a moment, as if he were almost puzzled by her presence in front of him. ‘Oh, Annie. I hate what’s happening to us. We used to be so happy … before all this.’
‘I know things haven’t been easy. But we’re getting through it, aren’t we?’
Richard’s expression was sceptical. ‘Are we? I don’t see it. I feel I’m married to a woman I don’t even know.’
‘I know I’ve been distracted, but is it really that bad?’
‘Distracted? Is that what you call it? You’re tense all the time, always complaining that I’m late, or I don’t call enough, or I drink too much. We never talk any more, not least because you’re so wrapped up in Daniel – or his father.’ He gave a deep sigh. ‘For instance, when was the last time we made love? The last time I touched you, you jumped away from me as if I’d scalded you.’
‘That was the night you came home late and hadn’t called me. I was angry. Angry that you hadn’t called and angry because I thought you were avoiding Daniel.’
He shrugged. ‘I’m under enormous pressure, you know. This merger is a massive amount of work …’
‘I know, I appreciate that. But it’s not fair to put all the blame on me. You
have
been late and drinking more than usual … and you
have
been avoiding Daniel.’
Richard raised his hand in objection, but Annie cut him off. ‘Please … don’t deny it.’
A dull silence filled the room. She moved away from the bed and sat in one of the faun and brown-striped armchairs in the window bay. She felt too tired to keep up this circular argument.
‘Look, I’m sorry,’ she finally muttered.
He stared at her for a moment as she waited for another onslaught. But suddenly his gaze softened. ‘What are we to do? I hate fighting with you.’
She nodded agreement. ‘Can’t we just do what we’ve always done? Pull together?’
Her husband shrugged. ‘If only Daniel hadn’t moved in …’
‘Christ, Richard! He’ll be gone in ten days. Will you be happy then?’ Her words flew across the space between them.
‘You’ll still be obsessed.’
She was heartily sick of his repeated use of that word.
‘That’s unfair and you know it.’
He slumped forward, covering his face with his hands. When he raised his face she was shocked to see the beginnings of tears. Richard never cried. He lifted his glasses, sweeping them away quickly with his fingers. ‘I love you, you know I do.’
She came to his side, leaned against him as they sat on the bed. His arm went round her, clutching her fiercely to him. She felt a surge of relief.
‘And I love you too.’ She sighed. ‘I’ve been so paranoid. I’d convinced myself that you were just about to leave me … or were having some stupid affair with someone.
‘Don’t be daft, Annie.’ His voice was even. ‘We’d better get some sleep, don’t you think? Long drive tomorrow.’
15
‘Where shall we put the ice bucket?’ Emma was standing next to the lurid yellow-rubber container, looking helpless.
‘On the deck?’ Marsha suggested. ‘We don’t want it in here because of all the water.’
‘When’s Ed coming with the ice?’ Lucy looked up from her task of removing garlic bread from plastic wrappers and placing them on a baking tray. ‘It’s five already. The beer won’t be cold if he doesn’t hurry up.’
Emma looked at her watch too. ‘I’ll call him.’ She wandered out into the garden.
‘Lucky it’s not up to her to get things organised.’ Marsha shook her head indulgently at her friend’s retreating figure. She looked at the baking tray. ‘God, Mum would have a fit if she saw that.’
Lucy laughed. ‘Yeah … and the ready-made pizza and plastic coleslaw and Iceland cheesecakes. We’d better destroy the evidence.’
‘Hope they’re having a good time in Cornwall.’
‘Ed’s on his way to pick up the ice, but he says he’s not feeling that great.’ Emma was back, looking worried and waving her phone in the air. ‘He says he’s got a stinking headache and feels, like, shivery and sick.’
‘No! Tell him to get something to take … Lemsip, Neurofen … anything.’
Emma put the phone to her ear again. ‘Hear that? Just get over here, then you can lie down and we’ll minister to you.’
‘What’s with the “we”?’ Lucy snorted.
Ed stumbled in half an hour later, looking like death, lugging a huge plastic bag of ice.
‘Go and lie down.’
‘Can’t. Bloody Daniel’s in my room.’
‘Well, go up to the parents’ room then,’ Marsha urged. ‘Have you dosed yourself up?’
‘Yeah. I took some of Emms’s hayfever pills. I found them in the glove compartment in the car.’
Marsha groaned.
‘I’ll go and get him something stronger.’ Emma looked around for her bag. ‘You’ve got to be fit enough for tonight, Eddie.’
‘Should we light the candles?’ Lucy asked later, when all the preparations were finished and they were sitting round the table in the garden with a cup of tea, all dressed up, a buzz of contained excitement between them. Just a
small breeze stirred the warm evening air, mixing the scent of lavender with the girls’ perfume.
‘Too early … it won’t be properly dark till nine-ish.’
‘Thank God it didn’t rain.’
‘Hi …’ Daniel put his head round the French doors. He held up two blue carrier bags. ‘I brought some wine, and crisps and stuff.’
Emma jumped up, smiling at Daniel. ‘Great.’ She took one of the bags and peered inside. ‘Yum. Love Doritos. Well done, you.’
‘Anyone ready for a proper drink?’ Daniel asked. ‘The white’s cold.’
The three girls nodded enthusiastically and he disappeared into the kitchen, to arrive back a couple of minutes later with a tray containing four paper cups, a bowl of Doritos and an opened bottle of cheap Chilean white.
‘You all look very gorgeous,’ he commented with a smile, glancing round at them as he poured the wine. Marsha had on a short red dress with spaghetti straps, her blonde hair loose around her shoulders. Lucy was in a knee-length white lacy dress, more demure and bohemian. Emma looked like the poster girl for Agent Provocateur in a black, tight-laced bustier dress, her ivory-cream breasts barely contained, her lips a startling red. Marsha saw Daniel’s eye linger on her friend and wished her brother was here.
‘Where’s Ed?’
‘He’s upstairs sick … flu or something.’
‘He isn’t coming to the party?’
‘He’ll be down later, he’s had a ton of medicine,’ Emma assured them blithely, lighting a cigarette and turning her beautiful head to blow the smoke away from the group.
‘Not sure about that. He looked pretty rough to me when I went up,’ Marsha commented.
‘Oh, Eddie’s tough. This was his idea. He won’t want to miss anything.’
Much later, Marsha stood with Daniel just inside the kitchen, a cup of red wine in one hand, a chunk of cold garlic bread in the other. It was after midnight and she was pleasantly drunk. The music had been turned down half an hour ago, as a nod to the tolerant neighbours, but the slow, heavy beat of the bass lent an erotic note to the warm summer night.
‘Good party,’ Daniel said.
‘Yeah, it’s gone OK. Shame Eddie didn’t make it down.’
‘See anyone you like?’ he asked, sweeping his hand towards the crowd in the garden.
She shook her head. ‘Na. I know them all. You?’
‘I’m not looking at the moment.’
She giggled. ‘Aren’t we always looking … whatever we pretend?’
Daniel didn’t reply and she looked up at his handsome face. ‘No?’ She still couldn’t get her head round the fact that they were related. And the brother thing wasn’t happening for her. Never would, she was sure about that.
He hesitated, as if he was considering whether to tell her something, then obviously decided against it and shrugged, giving her a half-smile. ‘Maybe you’re right.’ They were silent for a moment, watching the action on the terrace. ‘Emma’s not overdoing, it is she?’
‘Never does anything else!’
She watched her friend dancing in a circle of men, her body gyrating slowly to the music, alabaster skin almost iridescent in the candlelight, her features softened, louche with too much alcohol. Emma must have seen them watching and waved, blowing a pouting kiss to Daniel and holding his gaze, in Marsha’s opinion, for just too long.
‘She’s a very beautiful girl,’ Daniel mused.
Marsha felt a frisson of jealousy. Why didn’t I pick a dog for a best friend? She laughed silently at herself because, despite any frustrations, she adored Emma, had done since they were eight and both pigtailed new girls in Lower Fourth.
‘Mash … Mash, wake up.’ She felt a hand tugging at her arm, then the same, urgent voice: ‘Marsha, wake up, please.
Please
wake up.’ She forced herself upwards through layers of sleep, finally opening her eyes. In the beginnings of the dawn light she could just make out Emma’s face, tear-stained and puffy, hovering within inches of her own.
She shot up. ‘Emms? What is it? What’s the matter?’
Emma collapsed on the bed beside her. ‘Mash … something
terrible’s happened. I can’t bear it.’ She began to cry, sobs that shook her body but were almost silent, a stained tea-towel clutched to her face.
Marsha tried to focus, pulled herself up against the headboard. She reached over to her friend and held her bare arm, which was cold to the touch. Emma was still dressed in her party clothes, her feet bare, the blue checked rug from the TV room slung half around her shoulders.
‘What is it? Tell me, Emms, come on,’ she urged, yanking the tea towel free of her friend’s face so that she could see her properly. ‘Why are you still up? It must be nearly morning.’ Marsha herself had gone to bed around two, leaving the remaining stragglers with Daniel, who’d promised to lock up. Her friend took a few shaky breaths, trying to control herself, then fixed her huge dark eyes, bright with tears, on Marsha’s face. ‘Daniel … he … Oh, God, I don’t know how to tell you …’
Daniel? What was she talking about?
‘Just say it, will you?’
‘He … he came on to me. He forced me to kiss him, then he …’
‘
What?
’
‘He was really strong, and he … you know … he grabbed my breast. I was so frightened.’ She dropped her head in her hands. ‘I tried to tell him no, to fight him off, but he wouldn’t listen to me. It was disgusting … and with Eddie asleep upstairs.’
‘He didn’t …?’
Emma looked up again. ‘No, he didn’t actually rape me, but he would’ve if I hadn’t threatened to scream. Look.’ She held her arms out, where there were large red marks on the pale skin above both elbows.
Marsha stared. ‘Where were you when this happened?’
‘In the TV room. I was on the sofa. Everyone had gone, and I suppose I must have dropped off because the next thing I know, he’s leaning over me, his hands everywhere. Oh, Mash … I can’t believe he’d do this, he’s always seemed so polite, so … decent.’