The Other Woman(64)

If it was possible for my blood to run cold, I felt it then. An icy coolness started in my neck and coursed downwards through my chest and into my intestines, whirring around and around, up and down. As it reached the hot acidity of my stomach, I threw the phone at Pippa and ran to the bathroom, retching.

It sounded as if she was talking underwater, and I couldn’t make out any words, as I hung my head over the toilet, its very appearance prompting a contraction in my gut, propelling hot bile to sear up my throat.

Within seconds, Pippa was kneeling down beside me, holding my hair and rubbing my back.

‘It’s going to be okay,’ she whispered. ‘I’ll sort everything.’

I went to shake my head, but threw up again.

Pippa forced me to have a shower and wash my hair, promising that it would make the world a slightly less intimidating place.

I gave her my contacts book and, by the time I came back into the living room, there was only the hotel and registrar left to talk to.

‘I think that’s something you need to do, I’m afraid,’ she said. ‘I could be anyone.’

I nodded in sad agreement.

‘I’ll make us a cup of tea,’ she said, taking herself into the kitchen and busying herself with much banging and slamming of cups and cupboards.

‘Oh, my goodness, that’s unusual,’ said the insensitive wedding co-ordinator at the hotel. ‘We’ve never had anyone cancel this late in the day before.’

‘It’s not out of choice,’ I said dourly, barely aware of what she was even saying. I’d switched onto autopilot, unable to feel, or deal with real people and emotions. I felt like a robot, going through its pre-programmed manoeuvres, fearful of short-circuiting.

I was vaguely aware of the phone being taken out of my hand. ‘Hi, it’s Pippa Hawkins here, maid of honour, I’ll be assisting you with anything else you need . . .’

My head dropped into my folded arms on the table, and my body began to shake as the sobs took hold.





31

Adam finally showed his face an hour before we were meant to be getting married. Our flat had seen a constant stream of visitors during the day and night that he’d been gone, all checking up on me, making sure I hadn’t thrown myself off a bridge. But only Pippa remained, when he eventually returned home looking dishevelled, his face ruddy.

I’d imagined this moment a thousand times, but now, as he stood before me as I sat at the dining table, he looked like someone I’d once known. Not the man that I’d loved and lived with for the past eight months. It felt like we’d shared a fleeting encounter at some point in our past lives, and I could barely recollect the details. I didn’t know if that was my brain’s way of protecting me against the reality. Of cushioning the blow of what was really happening.

I could see Pippa picking up her coat in the corner of my eye, but I stared straight at him, daring him to come back at me. He avoided my gaze.

‘I’m going to go,’ said Pippa. ‘Okay?’

I nodded, my eyes never leaving Adam.

The sadness and sense of embarrassment I felt had been replaced by a very real anger now, so close to the surface that I felt like a feral animal being pulled back on its lead. He only needed to say one word, any word, and the chain would be off.

‘I need you to understand,’ he said.

I was up and out of my chair so violently that it fell backwards onto the floor.

‘You don’t get to tell me to do anything,’ I spat. ‘I have been through every possible emotion, and you dare to come in here and patronize me, telling me I need to understand?’

For a minute, I thought he was going to raise a hand to me – his shoulders were pulled back and his chest was puffed out, but then he deflated, like a popped balloon, and the air literally rushed out of him. I didn’t know which I preferred. At least if he retaliated, I had something to work with, something to spar with. But this hollowed-out version of his former self was pathetic to watch, a crumbling ruin that was difficult to garner respect for. I wanted him to stand up and be counted, not collapse in a childlike heap at my feet.

‘We need to talk,’ he said quietly.

‘You’re damn right we do,’ I said.

‘Like adults.’ He pulled out a chair from the other side of the table, the only thing that was stopping me from launching myself at him, and sat down wearily. He looked how I felt. Exhausted.

There was a fleeting moment when I thought she might have told him the truth. Had the guts to tell him what she’d really done, but as I tried to imagine the scene in my head, it just wouldn’t come.

‘So?’ I asked.

‘You need to calm down,’ he said.

‘And you’re patronizing me again, so if we’re going to get anywhere, you’d do well to stop that.’

He bowed his head. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘So, seeing as I’ve done absolutely nothing wrong, why don’t you start by trying to explain where the hell you’ve been and why you’ve been unreachable for the best part of thirty-six hours?’ I was biting the inside of my lip and could feel the metal tang of blood on my tongue.

‘I can only try to explain how I felt, how it felt,’ he said.

I crossed my arms and waited.

‘I was fully committed to getting married today. You need to know that.’