With or Without You (37 page)

The tone of Martha’s voice was wistful, making Liv feel as if she was intruding on a deeply personal memory. She wasn’t surprised that Charlie and Martha had got together, but it
made her feel sad for Jamie. Like him, she had been the guilty party and she knew how hard that was to cope with. Although she had only met him once and even then she was far from sober, she had
felt that he was essentially a good guy who had made a bad mistake.

‘What are you going to do?’

Martha’s eyes swam with tears which began to run down her cheeks. ‘I’m going to stay with Jamie!’ she wailed, leaning forward and fishing in her bag for a tissue.
‘What else can I do? I have no choice because of the kids . . .’

Liv could feel her own throat tightening and the tears welling up behind her eyes. She felt so sorry for them both. And a small part of her felt sorry for Charlie. ‘It’ll be
OK,’ she said, knowing that it sounded pathetic and also that it wasn’t necessarily true.

Martha blew her nose and wiped her face briskly. She looked up at Liv with damp eyes and forced a smile onto her face. ‘I know. It’ll be fine. Anyway, this interview isn’t
supposed to be about me! We need to talk about you . . .’

Liv took a deep breath and nodded. ‘OK,’ she said, sounding much stronger than she felt. ‘Where do you want to start?’

By the time she waved Martha off, Liv felt wrung out and emotional, but she also felt cleansed, as if she had just spent several hours confessing her sins. She still found
talking about herself a surreal experience, even though she had done it many times in the past when promoting some film or TV series. But this time was different because there was nothing to
promote except herself. On Martha’s advice, she had found it easier to imagine that she was talking about someone else. That way she could take a step back and cast a more dispassionate eye
over her train-wreck of a life.

Martha was a skilled and brilliant interviewer and Liv could see why she was so renowned in her profession. Despite everything that was going on in her own life, she was able to focus on
Liv’s story and give her room to speak, while prompting her gently when she faltered. She had a natural ‘bedside manner’ that Liv had never encountered before. All the journalists
who had interviewed her in the past had a hard, ruthless streak that was impossible to conceal as they grappled for sensational headlines or tried to get a rise out of her if they felt the
interview was in danger of becoming too boring. Martha had a way of making her interviewees feel safe and Liv knew that the piece would be very strong.

After she had finished and the recorder switched off, Liv had asked Martha to speak to Charlie, to get him to reconsider going for custody of Felix. It was the only area of her life that was
causing her stress now and she couldn’t feel completely well until it was resolved. Martha had agreed to speak to him but had said she couldn’t make any promises about what he might do.
Liv knew that this was the best she could hope for.

She inhaled deeply, before making her way back into the house. On autopilot, she headed for the office, feeling the usual urge to log onto her laptop, when something made her hesitate. She had
become as addicted to surfing the Internet for stories about her, Charlie or Danny as she had to alcohol and it needed to stop. It wasn’t healthy and, worse, it was a waste of precious time.
She had already lost so many days, weeks and months and she wasn’t going to lose any more. From now on, she was going to make the most of every single moment.

She glanced up at the clock. It was a quarter to three. Felix didn’t need to be picked up for another couple of hours. If she hurried, she could make a Pilates class at three. Her diary
for the next couple of months was packed and once she started, there wouldn’t be many free days for her to do her own thing. She grabbed her gym gear and stuffed it into a kit bag, as a tiny
kernel of happiness began to take root. She headed to the garage where her beloved Fiat 500 was parked. She couldn’t remember the last time she had driven it. She unlocked the door and
climbed in, smiling at the distinctive smell of the ancient beige leather seats that she loved so much. Gingerly, she tried the engine and felt a thrill of pleasure when it started first time.

She clicked the remote control and the garage door slid up with a purring sound. Liv inched the car down the gleaming white driveway and waited for the gates to swish open. As she drove through
them, she smiled to herself. For the first time in years, she finally felt as though she was on the right road.

Charlie let himself into the hotel bedroom and shut the door behind him. The blinds were closed and there was a triangle-shaped beacon of light splashing over the huge bed from
one of the bedside lights, giving the room a faintly pink glow.

From the bathroom he could hear the sound of running water, which stopped abruptly as he listened. He imagined her emerging wet and naked from the shower and he could feel himself hardening
instantly. Any concerns either of them may have felt about whether they were compatible had been well and truly laid to rest last night. She was without doubt the sexiest woman he had ever made
love to. Or rather, she was the sexiest woman who had ever made love to him.

He pressed down the gold-plated handle on the bathroom door and opened it. There was a tiny yelp of surprise from Martha as he stepped into the room and gazed at her. She was naked, except for a
white towel that she was attempting to wrap around herself but through which Charlie could still see her full breasts and her flat, tanned stomach. Her long, dark hair was slicked back from her
high forehead in soaking rivulets that dripped onto the marble floor with indelicate splatters.

She smiled shyly up at Charlie as he moved towards her and pulled the towel away, discarding it behind him in a careless heap. He lifted her, so that she could wrap her strong, toned legs around
his waist and kissed her, exploring her warm, sensual mouth with his tongue.

With a balletic grace, she unwrapped her legs and stood in front of him, her eyes never leaving his as she unzipped his jeans and pulled them down. She knelt on the floor and slid his erection
into her mouth, still holding his eyes with hers. Charlie groaned and pulled her back to her feet. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her again, before lifting his t-shirt over his head so
that he was naked too.

Martha turned and stepped back into the shower, pulling Charlie by the hand to make him follow her. She turned to face him and switched the shower on behind her back. Immediately, a monsoon of
water gushed from the dinner-plate-sized shower-head, drenching them both and making them laugh out loud. Charlie picked her up as if she weighed barely anything and slid her onto his erection.
Martha arched her back and moaned as he entered her, giving Charlie the full benefit of her perfect, full breasts with every thrust and making him slow his movements in case he came there and
then.

Martha gasped as she climaxed for the first time and Charlie covered her mouth with his, filling it with his tongue and wanting to devour every part of her. He reached behind her and turned the
shower off. Then, gently, he lay her down on the floor and entered her again. This time he moved rhythmically and more slowly, his eyes holding hers as she orgasmed over and over with a series of
animalistic groans.

She pushed him off her and knelt up so that she was facing him, before bending to take him in her mouth again, her tongue dancing from side to side. Charlie cried out with a mixture of pleasure
and pain. It was like nothing he had ever known before. ‘No,’ he gasped, pushing her head back. Martha smiled, before straddling him and riding him to a huge, shuddering climax.

‘Wow,’ Charlie panted, laying back and looking up at her, still sitting astride him. Her hair and body were soaked with a combination of sweat and water, making her skin glisten and
giving her an other-worldly appearance. She smiled at him but there was something about the look in her eye that made Charlie’s insides freeze. ‘What? What is it?’

She didn’t say anything as she lay down beside him with her head on his chest. Charlie wrapped his arm around her smooth brown back and squeezed her to him. ‘I can tell there’s
something you want to say.’

‘I don’t
want
to say it.’

Charlie’s heart, which had started to slow after his exertions, suddenly started to pound again. He could hear their breathing, perfectly in sync, meaning her heart must be pounding too.
‘It’s OK,’ he whispered into her ear, inhaling the clean, citrusy smell of her wet hair and closing his eyes as he tried to commit it to memory. ‘Whatever it is, you can say
it.’

Still Martha didn’t reply and Charlie began to hope that maybe he was mistaken. Maybe she wasn’t going to say what he had thought. He stroked her damp skin with his thumb,
waiting.

Eventually she lifted her head and rolled over so that she was looking at him with those huge, dark eyes. ‘I don’t
want
to say it but I have to.’

‘Say what, Martha?’ Charlie tried to hold her gaze but felt as though he might cry, so he looked up at the ceiling instead.

He heard Martha swallow and felt her drawing an outline of something on his chest with her nail. ‘I have to say goodbye,’ she whispered through her tears.

The next morning, Charlie woke early. Martha lay sleeping beside him, curled up with her back to him. He rolled onto his side and put his arm over her stomach, so that he was
cradling her.

Immediately, she awoke with a start and he felt her suck her stomach in with an automatic reflex. ‘Sorry,’ he whispered, kissing the back of her neck. Martha didn’t reply but
pushed herself back into him. They lay entwined for several minutes, only the sound of their breathing breaking the silence.

‘Why don’t I drive you to the airport?’ Charlie said, glancing at the clock on the bedside. It was just gone seven and he had to be on set by nine.

Martha sighed and rolled reluctantly away from him, turning so that she was facing him. Charlie smiled.

‘What?’ she demanded, frowning and smiling at the same time.

‘You’ve got mascara all down your face.’ He reached out and tenderly rubbed away the black smudges with his thumb.

Martha bit her lip and pulled the sheet around her, covering her exposed breasts. ‘Well taking my make-up off wasn’t exactly a priority last night.’

Charlie loved the way her cheeks flushed as she spoke, embarrassment making her suddenly coy. ‘You look so beautiful,’ he murmured, feeling the sadness wash over him again. He just
wanted to stay there, in bed with her, forever. But their time was almost up and he felt numb with loss and longing.

Martha leaned forward and kissed him. ‘Don’t look so sad,’ she said, stroking his face.

Charlie leaned his face into her palm. ‘I can’t help it. I don’t want you to go.’

‘I know.’

‘Is this the end? Could we maybe see each other once in a while . . .?’

‘No. You know we can’t. It’s not fair on you and it’s not fair on—’

‘Him!’ Charlie interrupted with a snarl. ‘But he doesn’t deserve to be treated fairly.’ He knew there was a pleading tone to his voice and it infuriated him. He
didn’t want to beg. He just wanted her to want him.

Martha sighed. ‘Maybe. Maybe not. I don’t really feel that I have the choice.’ The light that was shining in her eyes just a few seconds previously was extinguished in an
instant as she contemplated going home to her cheating husband, and Charlie felt a bolt of red hot fury shoot through him. If he had a woman like her he would never betray her. But being loyal and
faithful had brought him nothing but heartbreak either, so who was the fool?

Martha sat up and looked back at him. ‘There’s something I want to tell you, though, before I go.’ She hesitated and seemed to question herself.

‘Go on . . .’ Charlie prompted, sitting up too.

Martha took a deep, slow breath. ‘I love you,’ she said. ‘I think I’ll always love you.’ Quickly, she jumped off the bed, her cheeks blazing and her eyes watering,
as she headed for the shelter of the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind her.

Charlie watched her go, temporarily stunned. He got out of bed and walked to the closed bathroom door. Through it, he could hear Martha quietly crying.

‘Martha,’ he said, his voice sounding hoarse and raw. ‘Martha, listen to me. I love you too. And I understand. It’s OK.’

After a few minutes, the crying stopped and he could hear her blowing her nose. He leaned against the door and waited. He could feel that she was standing close to the other side. Could almost
feel her breath on his face.

‘Charlie? Do you remember that first day, in your hotel room, talking to each other through the bathroom door?’

He smiled at the memory. ‘I do. And I remember you looking ridiculously beautiful in my t-shirt and sweats with your ridiculously high gold sandals. I think I fell in love with you that
day.’

There was a pause and Charlie knew that she was leaning her head against the door, millimetres from his. ‘I’ll never regret you, Charlie.’

Charlie closed his eyes. ‘And I’ll never regret you, Martha,’ he managed to say. But as he gathered up his clothes and prepared to leave her for good, the pain in his heart
told him that he regretted her already.

Jamie was watching out of the window, waiting for Martha to return. He needed to get to her before Mimi did, to warn her that she knew. Martha had called home a couple of times
but Jamie hadn’t wanted to tell her over the phone. He decided that it would only upset her and there was nothing she could do about it anyway, so far away.

Mimi was upstairs, with her door closed and her music blaring, just as she had been for the past two days. She refused to eat and wouldn’t talk to Jamie, although he had tried several
times. He felt gripped by the fear that she may never speak to him again and the thought crucified him. Mimi and Tom were everything to him, but especially Mimi. They had had three years of it
being just the two of them, before Tom was born, and he had thought their bond was unbreakable.