Those Wicked Pleasures (26 page)

‘How long have we been living a lie? How long have you been keeping this woman?’

He could not answer. Little as he might want to, he felt sorry for Lara.

‘Oh, no. Years? Answer me,’ she demanded.

He maintained his silence.

That was confirmation enough for Lara. ‘You, of all people, the one man I never expected would betray me.’ She looked away from him, and fought back tears. She bit the inside of her lip, took a deep breath. Then, turning back to face him, she announced, barely above a whisper, ‘I will not contest a divorce.’

Brave words for a young woman whose whole world was shattered over a dry at the Paris Ritz. For a young wife who had believed beyond any doubt that she had the best marriage, the right husband, that happiness was
theirs and not just hers. Never once had it occurred to her to deceive her husband, or that he might be deceiving her. That bond she was so certain was love, and could never be broken between them, had given her the security to open up with her husband and be herself. She had held nothing back, and most especially the sexual side of her nature. He had revelled in it. It had counted high in their relationship, but for her no more so than some other aspects of their life together. She had never contrived to enslave her husband.

For the first time in years Lara recalled the morning when she had walked out on Jamal, for the very same reason Sam was now walking out on her: because she could not bear the idea of being sexually enslaved to him. The misery she had endured for so long under his sexual hold over her suddenly repossessed Lara and she felt quite sick. Awareness like the sting of a slap across the face. She had, though without realising it, accomplished with Sam what Jamal had very nearly accomplished with her: total subjugation.

She had pushed her chair back and had been about to rise and leave the bar when that moment of awareness hit her. Now, not only was she unable to get up, but she could no longer hold back her sickness. She reached for her handbag. Sam saw she was in trouble and recognised the problem. He came to her rescue with a handkerchief. Gratefully she pressed it to her mouth while she fought to hold back her misery. He took her by the arm, helped her from the chair, and together they left the bar.

The walk across the lobby seemed the longest of her life. In the lift her natural instinct was to lean against Sam. She couldn’t. His deceit, his cheating, his betrayal of all she had believed in, his hatred for their life together – was that something to lean on? She straightened up and stepped a pace away from him. They stood in silence
as the lift rose laboriously through the hotel.

She tried to assemble her thoughts. Was there something to be done? Something to say to Sam? Let’s wipe out the past? Can we start again? Bonnie? For Bonnie’s sake? The family’s? A second chance? Make an effort to save … To save what? Nothing there to save but the illusions they had tried to build a life on.

The lift-doors opened and Lara stepped out into the hall. Her life was in shreds, her spirit quite broken. But from the tatters of her life rose that indomitable Stanton character. She turned to Sam. ‘Let’s do this thing with some dignity – no acrimony – and together. For our sakes, as well as Bonnie’s and the families’.’

He looked relieved. He agreed, not in words but with a nod of the head. Now, in front of the door to their suite, the key already in the lock, he turned to face her. ‘Lara.’ He reached out to touch her. She recoiled as if he were a flame about to scorch her.

She raised a hand as though shielding herself and told him, ‘Don’t ever touch me again. I shall not forgive you for deceiving me, but the world will not know that. Only you. I can play-act, put the required face on it. Now you live with that.’

Chapter 18

David! There he was on the tarmac, standing with two other men next to a black Rolls-Royce. She spotted him even before the 747 rolled to a stop. David. Thanks to him a mere two hours after they called him from Paris, they were seated in the first-class section of the State Department plane returning to Washington via New York.

Lara placed the palm of her hand on the window, wanting to touch him. Seeing David waiting for them brought some sort of reality to what seemed like a dreadful dream. How can you be alive yet have no life going for you? How can you have everything going for you yet be as motiveless, selfish and alienated as Sam intimated she was? Was her life always to be one of love and loss, of isolation within relationships? She felt suddenly weary beyond endurance. And then she saw David walking towards the plane. He waved, and she felt a spark of energy return. He smiled up at her. She sensed love, and realised how complicated a thing it was; that it had more to do with innocence and hope, betrayal even, and disappointment, than she had been prepared for.

Minutes later, the passengers were on the ramp ready to descend the stairs. Sam and Lara gazed into each other’s eyes. The sadness he saw in her face prompted him to ask, ‘Are you all right?’

‘Let’s just say this is not the best day of my life, and get on with it.’

She stepped forward and walked with Sam and Bonnie down the stairs. Once on the tarmac, Lara hung back while Sam greeted David. David took Bonnie in his arms and kissed her, but he had eyes only for Lara, eyes filled with concern. From his pocket he drew a small teddy bear with a red and white polka-dot bow-tie around its neck. Bonnie squealed with delight. David handed Bonnie over to her nanny, and turned his attention to Sam. The two men shook hands. Sam stood aside while Lara stepped into David’s arms. They greeted each other with a hug and a kiss. Lara fought back tears, and David consoled her with, ‘It will all come right, La. We’re going home. Home to your beloved Cannonberry Chase.’

The three adults walked towards the waiting car. Lara pictured herself riding through the entrance past the great iron gates and up the avenue of trees, over the rise, to that first sight of the fountain in the courtyard and the house behind. It brought a slight smile to her lips, and then she wondered when – but when – would it come right for her? She wanted to believe David, but the fact was that she couldn’t. She could feel sorry for herself, yes. But that was hardly the worst of it. Her sense of failure was colossal. It overwhelmed her.

The family rallied round the divorcing couple, making it very easy for Lara and Sam. That only made Lara feel an even greater failure. She played her role of forgiving Sam brilliantly.

It was all as Lara had wanted it to be: a very private divorce, friendly, with no questions asked and few explanations given. Sam and Lara left family and friends with the illusion that they remained the best of friends. It was assumed that the marriage was terminated by mutual consent.

It was a deception perpetrated by both Sam and Lara for the sake of Bonnie, and for the Fayne and Stanton
families. But it was a deception that was hard for both of them to wear. Bonnie was a real little person, not a baby. Her mother and father had been with her day-in and day-out for her entire life. Suddenly to see them separated could have been traumatic for the child. Neither wanted that for her. The first morning, when the child rushed into her parents’ bedroom at Cannonberry Chase to get into bed with them and only Lara was there, the questions began.

‘Where’s Daddy?’

The moment Lara had dreaded. But it was here, and she was prepared for it – as was Sam. ‘Hop into bed, Bonnie.’ She flung the covers back and the little girl bounced energetically into the bed and cuddled up to her mother. She poked her fingers through the open lacework night-dress Lara was wearing and tried to tickle her mother. Lara pretended she had and gave the child the response she was seeking: a convincing show of giggles and begging for her to stop. That set off a chain of giggles in Bonnie. And once they had both calmed down, it began all over again with Lara doing the serious tickling. The child could hardly catch her breath for the laughter.

‘Stop, stop!’ she cried.

‘Have you had enough? Enough?’

‘Yes, Mummy. Yes, please stop.’

Bonnie was all flailing arms and legs and uncontrollable laughter. Her night-dress of white cotton embroidered with flowers was a mass of twisted material hiked up above her knees. She kept trying to straighten it out and defend herself from her mother’s tickling fingers at the same time. ‘What will you give me if I stop?’ asked Lara.

‘A kiss. A kiss and a hug.’

‘Oh, I can always get a kiss and a hug, it has to be something better.’ And she intensified her attack.

‘I’ll let you play Mummy to my doll, Lollypoulolly.’

And still Lara did not stop and the child screamed with laughter. Lara asked, ‘For how long?’

‘One whole day.’

‘All right. Go and get her.’ And Lara stopped.

When the child had recovered herself, she scrambled off the bed and ran to her room to bring the doll. Relieved to have a few minutes of peace and quiet, Lara tried to bring herself under control. She was determined to handle this difficult interview as she and Sam had planned to.

Bonnie returned. Half-reluctantly she handed over Lollypoulolly. ‘One whole day is a very long day, Mummy. Lollypoulolly will cry unless she can go back to the nursery for her lunch.’ There was not a Stanton pout, but there was a decidedly sorry little girl standing next to the bed.

‘Well, we can’t have that, can we?’

The child shook her head and her face began to light up. ‘But …’ The joyful light vanished on the word. ‘But you did give her to me for the
whole day
,’ Lara continued. ‘And that was a promise. A promise is a promise. So she will have to stay with me, won’t she?’ There was a very sad affirmative nod of the head. ‘However …’ Lara put some enthusiasm into the word: the light returned to the little face and hope glowed. ‘I repeat, however …’ now Bonnie was fidgeting with expectation ‘… there is nothing to stop me from inviting you to have lunch and spend the
whole
day with us, and Daddy too. What do you think of that?’

What Bonnie thought of that was to drop Lollypoulolly on the floor and leap on to the bed and throw herself against her mother, smothering her face in kisses. She was such a joy, so sweet and quick, so honest and loving a child, her kisses brought tears to Lara’s eyes. Tears she did not want Bonnie to see. At that moment she hated Sam as she had never hated anyone in her life. How could
he not have been happy with them? Lara rolled Bonnie off her, leaped off the bed and called back over her shoulder: ‘Bonnie, go get Daddy. He’s sleeping in the blue room. Now when Daddy is here, you will have two rooms to wake up. What fun! Tickles twice. I’ll meet you in the nursery and we three will have breakfast there.’

It was all a game. Another wonderful new game so far as Bonnie could understand it. And so Mother and Father laid down the new ground-rules. And Bonnie took the separation in her stride just as everyone else took it in theirs. But it had not been all easy going for those first days after their return from Paris. There were lots of Bonnie’s questions. Seemingly endless whys, whens and wheres.

Once the news of the Fayne-Stanton divorce made the society columns, the burning question for everyone was: why? Why had this glamorous idyllic marriage broken up? But no gossip surfaced on which to hang a scandal.

Lara retired to the seclusion of Cannonberry Chase, though her seclusion was not total. She attended all the family’s social events and dined with them, but spent most of her time with Bonnie, or riding and sailing. She took to reading, spending much of her time in the library. She even consented to see several old beaux – their calls came in as the news got out – but only at Cannonberry Chase.

Although Sam had moved out, he came and went much as before he and Lara were married. There was no breach between Sam and the other Stantons, no burgeoning feud between the Faynes and the Stantons. The two families maintained their old alliances. It was all marble-smooth and civilised. So much so that it took the family several months to realise fully that Lara had not ventured outside the estate since her return from Paris and the announcement of the divorce. Nor had she aired her
feelings or future intentions. They waited, hoping she might rally herself and resume the life she had led before her marriage.

Behind closed doors they fretted. Or her brothers and Henry did. Emily and Elizabeth seethed, silent but
very
angry, believing that Lara, no matter what, should never have granted Sam a divorce. Whatever the problem, she and Sam should have made an arrangement and stayed married. They believed that Sam Fayne was unquestionably the perfect husband for Lara, and she had blown it. Condemned to silence by Henry, the two women smouldered, with much hope but little faith that Lara would ever find a better man than she had already had. But, no matter how angry they were with her, their loyalty to her overrode all else. They were there for her. The Stantons closed ranks.

Lara went through the motions of living, of being in control of her life. But the fact was she felt more lost than ever. Having to confront life as a single woman again, she only then began to understand how much she had enjoyed being married, particularly carrying a child. She re-lived the miracle of giving birth, the joy of rearing Bonnie. Her divorce from Sam was an incalculable loss of happiness. One thing this trauma of divorce did achieve for her though: Lara became a woman, experiencing feelings and perceptions that till now had eluded her.

Solitude was her first discovery. She kept slipping into pockets of solitude, and soon consciously sought the luxury of seclusion, the healing properties of real quiet. It was a tonic that revitalised her, restored some strength with which to fight her deep sense of failure.

Julia and her other friends, more concerned than ever for her welfare, remained close to her. With infinite patience, they repeatedly tried to lure her out of her
retreat and back into the bracing whirl of the social life. To little avail. Then, at last, David organised an adventure. Lara felt a touch of excitement return to her life when she agreed to fly David and Julia to Rio for a boat-trip up the Orinoco.

The four-week adventure turned out to be a life-saver for Lara. Overwhelmed by the infinite beauty of the vast rain-forests of Brazil, on her return she consulted Harland, her trustee, and instructed him to buy for her three hundred square miles of the rain-forest they had visited. Her intention to keep it as a natural wild-life reserve suited her portfolio. Yet again, Harland was impressed that she had not simply presented him the usual hare-brained scheme of a beautiful playgirl.

The excitement of the project, and the complications of such a purchase, sparked the barely tested business mind Lara appeared to have. She acted decisively. This was the first time Harland had seen that side of her. Admiringly, he encouraged her to immerse herself in the development of large properties, or the conservation of endangered parts of the world. Such projects might take her out of herself, restore her to the mainstream of life again.

His encouragement worked to some degree. It prompted Lara to discuss with him her interest in large working farms run on a cooperative basis. How one day she would like to be involved in projects like that. Listening to her own enthusiasm and believing in what she was telling Harland, Lara felt a lift of her spirits. She asked him to advise her of any opportunities.

On her return from Brazil, she had once again gone into retreat at Cannonberry Chase. But the holiday acted like a catharsis. The epic canoe-trip up the Orinoco, the danger, the primitive people and places untouched by civilisation, the emptiness and lush jungle wilderness,
were like a purgation: a dramatic outlet for her sullied emotions. Part of her old self came alive again. She suddenly felt like meeting people and attending parties. Memories of the good times, frivolous, nonsensical fun, came rushing back. Even sexual desire began to rekindle – one of the impulses smothered since that morning at the Paris Ritz by weariness and disenchantment. Lara began to wonder why she wasn’t having any fun any more.

When she consented to attend a worthy charity ball at the Metropolitan, and two other parties in the same week, her friends rejoiced. Lara Stanton was back! Before long, she was swept up once again into the life she had always led since leaving Smith. There were several slight differences. Bonnie came first; and a measured interest in her own personal affairs, including the new projects she had submitted to Harland. But some habits are hard to break. After buying an extensive working farm in Kenya, and a vineyard in France, she lost interest in business and acquisitions.

Since money had never been a lure for her, she announced to Harland: ‘I’m shelving my involvement in business. Not for always, but for the moment. Please run things for me as you always have. I’m just not ready for so much responsibility. I feel I have a lot of living to do. I am, after all, still not thirty.’

‘Why am I not surprised by this?’

‘Because I’ve done it to you before, dear Harland. But don’t despair of me. I
am
trying, and I haven’t lost us money yet.’

‘You play with your estate the way you play with your life – maybe the way you played with your toys as a child. Picking them up and dropping them the moment you’re bored.’

‘You’re irritated with me? Don’t be. We’re all children
at heart. Even you, Harland, only you conceal the infant in you better than I do.’

Her fiery charm was back. She saw him smile and went to sit on the end of his desk, leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. Then she said quite seriously, ‘Harland, I’m just coming out of a bad time. I haven’t much to show for my life, except a broken marriage which poleaxed me for a while. Unless I get out there again and find what I’m looking for, I may never have anything but Bonnie to justify having existed. And although that’s a lot, it’s not enough. Have faith, and take care of my affairs. Please.’