The Other Woman(40)

‘Well, thanks, Sherlock, that seems to wrap things up pretty nicely. But it’s not just about sex, it’s more than that.’

‘So, you haven’t imagined, for one second, being in bed with James?’ asked Seb, his gaze unwavering.

I shook my head vehemently, whilst feeling my cheeks going red.

‘You’re so shit at lying!’ He laughed.

‘But that’s really wrong, isn’t it? I mean, there’s seriously something badly wrong with that.’

‘It is if you do anything about it, but for now, it’s locked up in a lovely little fantasy room that we’re all allowed to have and like to look into, but never actually enter. That’s the difference.’

‘So, what do I say to Adam? Do I tell him I’ve seen James?’

‘You’ve already got a whole world of hurt going on with that family, so I strongly recommend you don’t make it any harder on yourself. I think you should have told Adam that you’d met, but if you were going to do that, you would have done it last night. And you didn’t?’

I shook my head. I’d thought about it, all night. I was like a cat on a hot tin roof, running it over in my mind again and again, reaching a different outcome every time. I thought about telling him that James had needed some recruitment advice, but that would lead on to another lie, and I could see it all quickly unravelling.

Hot tears sprang to my eyes. ‘What a bloody mess.’

Seb shuffled up the sofa and put an arm round me. ‘Hey, come on, don’t get upset. You should think yourself lucky, having two men fighting over you. I can’t even get one to have a fight with himself!’

I laughed tightly.

‘So, you think I’m doing the right thing? I’m playing it right?’

‘As I said, there should be no guilt associated with fantasizing, just be sure not to act on it.’

I sniffed. ‘I never would, not in a million years.’

So why, then, did I agree to meet James for a drink after work when he called again a week later?

I don’t know, is all I can offer. It’s not a good enough answer, but it’s the only one I’ve got.

I’d not stopped thinking about how he’d made me feel, and I naively believed that if I saw him again, I’d be able to rationalize it in my head and put it to bed. How stupid I am. I should know that life doesn’t work like that, so why am I prepared to put myself in an untenable situation, as if to prove to myself that I’m in control, that I’ve got this, when, deep within, I know that, all around me, the sky is falling down.

I could blame Adam. I could say that I no longer felt attractive, or wanted; that my husband-to-be made me feel unloved. I could say that he didn’t understand me or support me. And perhaps that was all true, but none of those justified me being unfaithful.

‘I’m not going to sleep with him,’ I assured Seb, when I called to tell him I needed to see James one last time, ‘for closure.’

‘Who are you trying to convince? Me or you?’ He laughed wryly. ‘Because I have to say, I’m not on the same page as you on this one. Go have your ego stroked if that’s what you need, but you’re playing a dangerous game here and you need to wake up to the consequences. If Adam finds out about this, even if nothing happens between you, you’re going to be in a whole heap of trouble.’

‘I know what I’m doing.’ I sighed heavily.

‘Do what you want, but don’t come running to me when the shit hits the fan.’

I felt a bolt across my chest at that. Seb was open-minded about anything and everything, so to be told in no uncertain terms where I stood, compounded the gravity of the situation.

‘Call me when you’ve got your sensible head back on,’ he said, before putting the phone down.

There was a tiny part of me that wanted James to cancel. It would have made things easier, drawn a line under whatever this was. But he didn’t, so, with butterflies dancing in my stomach, I walked into the American Bar at the Savoy, and his eyes met mine as I walked towards him.

‘Good to see you,’ he said, holding my shoulders and kissing both cheeks. ‘You look incredible.’ The word resounded in my head. Incredible. That isn’t how your future brother-in-law should describe you. Lovely, yes. Well, yes. Even great, yes. But incredible? Absolutely not. My heart raced at the thought that I’d not imagined the look he’d given me in the cafe, nor the sentiment behind his words.

‘What can I get you?’ he said, whilst raising a hand to the barman.

‘A glass of prosecco, please.’

‘Two glasses of champagne, please,’ he said to the white-jacketed man behind the bar.

‘What are we celebrating?’ I asked.

‘You are looking at the official gardener for Lansdowne Place at Knole Park.’

‘Oh, fantastic,’ I cried, instinctively pulling him towards me for a congratulatory hug. ‘You got the job.’

There was the briefest moment when our faces collided, unsure of whether this was just a hug, a kiss, or both. We awkwardly extricated ourselves, but the touchpaper had been lit.

‘So, does Adam know you’re here?’ James asked, his eyes not meeting mine.

‘No,’ I said honestly. ‘I haven’t told him.’

He tilted his head to one side, his hair flopping with it. ‘Why not?’