My Husband's Wife(101)

The next day, she found the letters had gone.

The exhibition opening almost distracted Carla from the doubts that were building up. It was such fun to be photographed on Ed’s arm! He looked so handsome dressed in his tuxedo. ‘Shall I refer to you as Mr Macdonald’s companion?’ asked one of the journalists.

Ed, hovering at her shoulder, had stepped in. ‘Put fiancée, would you?’

Carla started. They hadn’t even discussed marriage! But Ed was speaking as though it had all been arranged.

‘Why did you say that?’ she asked as they walked home.

Ed’s handgrip tightened. ‘I thought you’d be pleased.’

‘I am.’

But inside, she really wasn’t sure. Instead, Carla thought back to the night when he’d first made love to her. She’d adored his impulsiveness then. But now it felt as though she was being treated like the child she’d been when Ed had first known her. He was making all the decisions. Huge ones which she should have a say in too. Did she really want to get married? It no longer seemed so important.

The following night, when she was working late at the office, Ed rang. ‘Have you seen the Telegraph?’ he demanded tersely.

Carla felt a quickening of apprehension. ‘No.’

‘Then get one.’

There was a copy in reception for clients. Swiftly Carla skimmed through until she reached the arts pages. Dear Lord.





NEW EXHIBITION DISAPPOINTS

ART LOVERS


Artist Edward Macdonald fails to live up to expectations …



‘Sorry,’ she said to one of the partners. ‘I’ve got to leave.’

He raised his eyebrows. ‘You’ve finished the briefing?’

‘Not quite. But I’ve got an emergency.’

‘We’ll have another if you don’t have everything ready first thing in the morning.’

‘I will.’

When she got home, Ed was slumped on the sofa.

‘It will be all right,’ she said, bending down to kiss him on the forehead.

‘Will it? We’ll have to sell the gallery. I just can’t afford to keep it going any more.’

Never had she seen a man cry before.

‘I’m sure …’

Then his arms opened and he pulled her towards him. His breath stank of whisky and his mouth was wet as he pushed her down on the sofa. ‘Don’t, Ed, don’t. It’s not safe.’ But he continued to kiss her, and it seemed easier to let him than carry on protesting.

The following week, she received a letter from Mamma.

Cara mia,

You will not believe what has happened! Larry has left me a little money. I have only just found out – his widow fought against it but the judge ruled I should have it. My Larry changed his will at the end, apparently. It shows what a good man he was, don’t you think? …



So her visit had achieved something after all.

Yet Carla felt physically sick. Yes, her mother would be financially secure now, judging from the amount mentioned. No wonder the widow had challenged it. But where did that leave her, Carla? Had she put herself into this awful position with Ed for nothing?

Perhaps it was time to get out.





47


Lily


February 2015


‘He’s nearly here, he’s nearly here!’

Tom is pacing up and down, patting his hands on his knees as if playing the drum. This is another habit associated with his condition. The action, according to the experts, soothes the person concerned. Even if it plays havoc with everyone else’s nerves.

‘There’s his car, Mum. There’s his car!’

Ross always has this effect on him. If there was one thing that Ed and I got right, I tell myself, it was choosing his friend as godfather.

Ross was gratifyingly shocked when Ed walked out on me for Carla and then demanded the house. ‘As for “unreasonable behaviour”, that’s ridiculous,’ he said when I’d gone round the following day, my face a mess, barely able to stop crying.

I’d shrugged, looking round at Ross’s place. The washing-machine door was off, lying on the side of the kitchen counter as if waiting for someone to call the repair man. The kitchen sink was stacked with several days’ worth of crockery and there was a pile of newspapers on the floor by the bin. Half a bottle of Jack Daniel’s sat on the side. Yet Ross himself was always impeccably turned out in a sharp suit and dapper tie. It occurred to me then, as it occurs to me frequently, that one never really knows a person properly. Especially ourselves. Every human is a melting pot of contradictions.

‘What grounds does he cite for this unreasonable behaviour?’ continued Ross.

‘Always working late. Not taking holidays. That sort of thing.’ I gave a short laugh. ‘Unreasonable behaviour can mean anything nowadays. I had a client who got a divorce because her husband dug up her vegetable garden without asking her permission first.’

My fingers gripped the side of Ross’s cream worktop. Imagine if Ed’s lawyers knew the truth … No, I tell myself. Don’t go there.

‘What are you going to do?’ asked Ross. He was coming closer now. For a minute, I thought he might be going to give me a cuddle. Until then, we’d only exchanged brief ‘kiss greetings’ on the cheek. It felt odd. So I stepped backwards.