The Other Woman(23)

So, I knew where I stood, and all the while I was second best, I’d pick my fights carefully. I wanted to enjoy today for what it was, for what it could be. I wanted to wander through Blackheath Village like other couples that I used to see. Look excitedly into agents’ windows before going in and reeling off our requirements. Yes, we’d decided that a second bedroom would be beneficial. Yes, if we didn’t have to compromise on location, a small garden would be a huge plus point. No, we didn’t have any pets. We’d run through our wish list like little kids, the night before, until it had got silly. No, we wouldn’t consider a subterranean basement with no windows. Yes, we would like to overlook the heath if there’s a remote chance that it’ll cost less than our combined take-home pay.

It could be a great day, so should I tell him what she’d done and how it made me feel? Or should I stay schtum? Was there really any choice?

Adam came up behind me, wrapped his arms around my waist, and let his towel fall to the floor. I’d lost focus on what I was looking for. I couldn’t even see the shirts and blouses I was pulling along the rail. There were just blocks of colour, no item seemed to register, the anger building with every hanger.

‘You sure nothing’s wrong?’ he said as he nuzzled my neck.

Say something. Don’t ruin it. Say something. Don’t ruin it. This could so easily go one of two ways.

‘No, honestly,’ I said, turning around and returning his kiss. ‘I’m just thinking about work. There’s a lot going on.’

‘I’ve got something that will relax you,’ he murmured. ‘That will clear those cobwebs.’ I watched as his head dropped and he peeled back the flimsy lace of my bra, circling my nipple with his tongue.

I could feel the rage within me dissipate as his fingers travelled down, pushing my knickers to one side.

I made a half-hearted attempt to push him away. ‘We can’t. We’ve got things to do.’

‘There’s plenty of time for all that. First, just let me see if I can free you of all those worries and stresses.’

There was no point in stopping him. We both knew I wouldn’t even try. I needed him as much as he needed me, sometimes even more. I’d always thought sex was over-rated before I met Adam. Of course, I liked it, but I was flummoxed by the constant stream of articles in women’s magazines telling us that if we weren’t having it five times a week, and swinging from the chandeliers on at least two of those occasions, then there must be something wrong with us.

Even with Tom, who I had been the most adventurous with, I didn’t really get it. We made love twice a week, with him on top, until he came, and then he’d satisfy me in other ways. Sex was sex and I was fine with that. But with Adam, it was entirely different. I’d finally been able to see what everyone else was raving about. He knew me, and I knew him. We were the perfect fit. Not many days would pass before one of us needed the other. Our moods could swing and change on the strength of it. Sex had gone from being the least important part of a relationship to high on the priority list.

I moaned as his head moved further down, my breath catching in my throat.

A picture of a horrified Pammie flashed across my mind and I forced the image away. I’ll get to you later, I thought to myself, as I felt Adam’s tongue. But first your son is going to make love to me. A warped wave of satisfaction flooded over me that not even Adam himself could transcend.

We were still entwined, our breathing deep and heavy, when a text pinged through on his phone. He extracted himself and rolled over, reaching across to the bedside.

‘Who’s after you?’ I asked casually, wondering whether Pammie had now sent the text to him.

‘Pete from work, and my mum.’

‘Oh, is your mum okay?’ I feigned casual interest.

‘Yeah, all good. I was just checking that she’s around next weekend. I’m thinking of popping down there whilst you’re at the conference.’

‘Good idea. Is she okay with that?’ I pushed.

He tapped out a reply while I waited. ‘Yep, all sorted.’

I willed him to relay the message, so that we could laugh about it and call her a silly old cow, but he didn’t.

‘I’ll go and see her on Saturday,’ he said. Damn you, Adam. Why couldn’t you have been honest?





10

I was at work when the text pinged through on my mobile.

Are you mad?

I didn’t recognize the number, so threw the phone into my bag, out of reach and out of temptation. But I was only able to leave it for a couple of minutes. How can you ignore a text like that?

Sorry? I typed back.

Are you a glutton for punishment? came the reply.

I was getting a bit freaked out. I either knew this person well, or this was a dodgy offer from an S&M dungeon.

I don’t think I’m either, so you must have the wrong person, I wrote.

You’ve got to be a fruit bat if you think going to see my nutty family is worth taking time off work for.

I leant back in my chair and thought for a moment, before a smile spread across my face. There was only one person this could be.

James?

Er yeah . . . who else would it be?

Me: Hey, how are you?

J: I’m good. How were your few days with the hillbillies?

I laughed out loud, and Tess, my colleague on the desk opposite mine, smiled and raised her eyebrows.