With or Without You (20 page)

‘I can’t!’ Martha’s words burst out in a giant gasp. ‘I came here because I needed to get my head together . . . to get away from you.’

‘I know,’ Jamie agreed. ‘But it’s not the answer. You know how we are. We don’t function well apart . . .’

‘We didn’t function well together either, seeing as you were screwing other women behind my back!’ Martha was trying to sound hard again but Jamie could hear the pain in her
voice.

‘But we need to talk this through. I am going out of my mind here and I need to be able to put right what’s happened.’

‘You can’t ever put it right,’ Martha said, the weariness returning to her voice.

‘Don’t say that,’ Jamie told her, shaking his head at the thought. ‘
Please
don’t say that.’

‘But it’s true.’

‘No!’ Jamie said, with renewed determination. ‘I’m not giving up without a fight. I love you so much, Martha. I need you. Come home. I can’t bear to think of you on
the other side of the world in some hotel room . . .’

There was a pause. ‘I’m not in a hotel. I’m staying at someone’s house.’

Jamie’s spirits slumped. His chances of finding her if she was in a house rather than a hotel were zero. ‘Whose house?’ he prompted, trying not to sound too desperate. He
didn’t want to alert her to his plan, but he needed to know where she was.

‘Liv Mason’s.’

It took a few moments for Jamie to realise who she meant. ‘Liv Mason, as in the film star, Liv Mason?’

‘Yes. She’s Charlie’s ex, so we’re staying here to look after his son while she goes away for a few days. Or at least we were. It’s got a bit complicated . .
.’

Stinging jealousy prickled its way through Jamie. ‘You and Charlie?’ he said. ‘On your own?’

‘Oh, no you don’t!’ Martha growled. ‘I think you’ll find you have absolutely no right to be possessive of me any more. No right at all!’

‘I’m not!’ Jamie protested quickly, but he had to admit to feeling jealous as hell. He knew all too well the tricks men used to get women into bed, having employed them himself
when he was younger. There was no doubt in his mind that Charlie Simmons would be exploiting Martha’s vulnerability for all he was worth right now. The thought of Martha being with someone
else absolutely killed him, even though he knew he was the one to blame. If it wasn’t for him and what he’d done, Martha would never have run off to LA with Charlie in the first
place.

He cleared his throat and took a deep breath, trying to regain some composure. ‘How long are you going to be there?’

Martha didn’t answer at first and Jamie wondered for a moment if the connection had been lost. Finally, she spoke. ‘For as long as it takes,’ she said, before hanging up.

Martha awoke with a start the next morning. She could have sworn that she hadn’t slept at all, but she must have dropped off at some point, exhaustion and jet-lag finally
catching up with her. Jamie’s phone call had shaken her. He was right. They didn’t function well apart, but the longer she was away from him, the easier it was for her to think
straight.

Running away to LA had been such an uncharacteristic thing for her to do. She had always put Jamie and the children first. But even though it was painful to be without the children, she had no
doubt that it had been the right thing to do. She’d had to put some space between her and Jamie, so that she could decide for herself what to do without him watching her with terrified eyes
and begging her to forgive him.

And being with Charlie had been strangely comforting, considering they didn’t really know each other and that he was such a star and she was just a jobbing journalist. It was as if the
shared experience of heartbreak had given them the sort of connection that other couples take a lifetime to find.

Other couples
? Martha pulled the plump white duvet up to her neck to keep out the chill from the air conditioning and rolled onto her side, shocked that she should even be thinking
about her and Charlie in such terms.

Not that she didn’t find him attractive. Charlie was a gorgeous man inside and out, and she couldn’t understand how Liv had ever thought that she would be better off with the
womanising Danny Nixon than the devoted father of her only child.

Martha’s musings were interrupted by the sound of Felix laughing as he ran past her door with Charlie, clearly having just roused his dad and demanding that he get up and play with him.
‘I’m gonna thrash you!’ he squealed, to which Charlie calmly replied, ‘Oh yeah? Well we’ll see about that, my little buddy!’

Martha smiled to herself. Charlie seemed like a wonderful dad and she could see how deeply it had affected him to be parted from his beloved son.

Like so many people, Martha had followed the lives of Liv and Charlie through the countless articles and gossip columns she had read over the years and felt as if she knew them. But the truth
was, while they might seem to be perfect people living perfect lives, they were really no different to anyone else, with all the same problems and traumas.

Liv, in particular, seemed to be just as lonely and vulnerable as Martha at that moment. She had drunk heavily again last night, but worryingly, she didn’t seem to get drunk. Despite her
petite frame, she had managed to polish off several large glasses of wine and a couple of gin and tonics without any apparent ill-effects.

To Martha’s surprise, not only did she relate to Liv, she also felt desperately sorry for her. Despite everything Liv had done, Martha wondered if she now regretted the turns her life had
taken. Should she have ignored her feelings for Danny and made it work with Charlie?
Could
she have ignored how she felt about Danny? Maybe not. Maybe it was just too strong.

As for herself, Martha was proud that she seemed to be just about holding up, despite the constant, gnawing pain in her stomach and the squeezing sensation in her chest. Her heart literally felt
as if it had broken in two, but she had managed to continue to function, albeit in a robotic fashion. Her senses were dulled, the way that she imagined you felt when you were on anti-depressants.
Maybe that was yet another of the physical symptoms of heartbreak.

Being in LA with a famous film star, having been flown there first class and taken to some lovely places, as Charlie had done yesterday when he took her and Felix out for the day, ought to have
felt glamorous and exciting, but Martha could just as easily have been in Clacton. She’d felt numb to the whole experience and wasn’t able to embrace it with her usual enthusiasm,
thanks to the huge rucksack of misery it seemed as if she was carrying around on her back.

She had brought her notepad and recorder with her so that she could use the time with Charlie to push on with her research for the book, but Charlie had seemed surprised, even slightly offended,
when she had first pulled them out of her bag. She had told him, not realising until she said it how true it was, that work was ‘distraction therapy’ for her.

Reluctantly, Martha threw off the duvet and climbed out of bed. Her eyes felt as if she had rubbed sandpaper over them during the night and, as she looked at herself in the bathroom mirror, she
saw that the circles beneath them had darkened.

She stepped into the shower and let the stinging jets of hot water pummel her skin for several minutes, enjoying the sensation as the warmth seeped into her chilled body. Once she had finished,
she stepped out and wrapped the fluffy white robe that was hanging on the door tightly around her body. She picked up her phone and noticed with alarm that she had several missed calls, but as she
scanned her ‘recent calls’ list, she could see that they were all from Lindsay.

She hadn’t been able to face calling Lindsay yet. Although she loved her friend and knew that she would always be there for her, she didn’t want to disillusion her about Jamie. Since
her own marriage had collapsed, Lindsay had held Jamie and Martha up as role models for the perfect relationship. Many times she had said that she would never settle down again, unless she believed
that there was a real chance her relationship could be like theirs. If she didn’t see that potential within the first three dates, she ended any burgeoning new romances.

Martha looked again at the calls list and bit her lip guiltily, as she realised that Lindsay had tried ringing her almost fifty times. She would be going out of her mind with worry; Martha had
to return her call.

Lindsay picked up immediately. ‘Jesus, I was imagining for a while there that you must be dead!’

‘Sorry,’ Martha said, feeling sheepish. ‘It’s just that it’s been a bit of a hectic few days and—’ she started to gabble her excuses.

‘I know,’ Lindsay interrupted her.

‘Yes, so I had to come to LA because obviously I’m doing the book and I’m on a deadline and if I don’t get on—’

‘I
know
,’ Lindsay interrupted her again, this time more forcefully. ‘I know about Jamie. About what he did.’

‘Oh God,’ Martha sank down onto the unmade bed, her insides immediately churning again, as the horror of what had happened washed over her anew. ‘H . . . how?’ she
stuttered.

‘Jamie told me.’ The gentleness of Lindsay’s voice made Martha feel a million times worse. ‘Babes, I am so sorry you have had to go through that. I can’t bear to
think how you must have felt . . .’

‘Don’t,’ Martha cried, putting her hand over her face. ‘I can’t bear it myself.’

‘You sound awful,’ Lindsay said after a pause. ‘How are you feeling?’

Martha tried to speak but her throat felt as if it had closed up. She wanted more than anything to be with Lindsay right now, to pour out everything that she was going through.

‘Oh God, what a stupid bloody question!’ Lindsay said, when Martha didn’t reply.

‘No! It’s OK,’ Martha croaked. ‘I feel really bad. I still can’t believe it.’

‘Neither can I. Oh, Martha, I nearly battered him but . . .’

‘. . . but I got there first?’ Martha finished the sentence for her.

Lindsay laughed a dry, humourless laugh. ‘Something like that,’ she agreed. ‘Martha, I just feel so helpless. Please tell me what I can do to help.’

‘You can keep an eye on the children for me,’ Martha said in a small voice. ‘I’m really worried that they’ll be thinking that
I’m
the one
that’s in the wrong. Especially Mimi. You know how smart she is.’

‘I know,’ Lindsay agreed. ‘Did you see that you were papped again at LAX?’

‘Oh God, no!’ Martha cried. ‘The kids . . .’

‘I’ll make sure the kids know it means nothing,’ Lindsay said quickly, reading Martha’s mind.

‘Thank you,’ Martha breathed, relieved. ‘My mum’s there – apparently Jamie couldn’t cope on his own – but I’m not sure they’d take much
notice of anything she says, whereas they’ll listen to you.’

‘Of course,’ Lindsay said. ‘I’ll nip round now.’

Martha felt a surge of gratitude towards her friend. The children idolised Lindsay because although she was a teacher, she was also great fun and just a little bit naughty. She smoked, drank
more than she should and watched all the teen American shows that Mimi in particular loved.

‘So . . . where are you staying?’ Lindsay asked. ‘And are you still with Charlie Simmons?’

Martha sighed. ‘Well, it’s all a bit of a long story but, yes, I’m here with Charlie. We’re staying at Liv’s house.’

There was silence for a moment while Lindsay digested what Martha had just said. ‘Liv
Mason’s
house?’ she spluttered at last. ‘His ex-wife?’

I know,’ Martha agreed, shaking her head. ‘I can’t quite believe it myself. It’s all so surreal.’

‘What’s it like? Tell me everything!’

Martha laughed. She could just picture Lindsay, smoking furiously, her eyes agog, as she waited for her to impart the juicy details. ‘Well, it’s certainly an eye-opener . .
.’

‘Describe the house in every detail,’ Lindsay ordered, exhaling loudly.

‘A-mazing. Huge, double-height ceilings, lots of glass and steel. Everything’s white so it looks even bigger. Fabulous infinity pool overlooking the Hollywood Hills, and when
you’re in it you can see the sea in the distance once the smog clears . . .’

‘Of course! Danny Nixon’s bachelor pad – I saw it featured in a magazine just after he bought it.’

Martha grinned to herself. Lindsay had every celebrity magazine, filed in date order, from the past five years, and she had a photographic memory when it came to the lives of the rich and
famous. She was momentarily sorry that her friend wasn’t there to see it for herself.

‘And what’s she like? The ex?’

Martha sighed. ‘She’s lovely but a bit of a mess, to be honest. So we have a lot in common right now . . .’

‘A mess in what way?’

Martha lowered her voice to a whisper, even though it would have been impossible for anyone to hear her from outside the room. ‘I’m pretty sure she’s got a drink problem.
I’ve never seen anyone put away quite so much. And, please don’t tell anyone this . . .’

‘Who am I going to tell?’ Lindsay cut in indignantly. ‘My headmaster?’

Martha laughed. ‘Well, it looks like Danny’s dumped her.’

‘Shit!’ Lindsay gasped.

‘I know. So, as I say, me and Liv Mason have rather a lot in common right now. It’s all so weird . . .’ Martha suddenly felt all the energy draining out of her and she lay back
on the bed. ‘I’ll tell you all about it when I get home.’

‘So you
are
coming back then?’ Lindsay said, a mischievous note to her voice. ‘You’re not staying there and shacking up with Charlie Simmons?’

Martha laughed nervously. ‘No! Of course I’m not. I’ve still got two children to think about, remember? Even if my supposedly devoted husband is a cheating shit.’

‘Oh Martha!’ Lindsay cried. ‘I really hope you work it out with Jamie. He does seem absolutely devastated . . .’

‘So he should!’ Martha snapped. ‘And he’s only devastated because he’s been caught. He certainly wasn’t devastated before, when he was shagging his mistress
behind my back.’

Martha could hear Lindsay gulp. ‘I still can’t believe it,’ she said. ‘Not Jamie . . .’