The Other Woman(92)

‘Let’s get you back inside,’ he said.

‘No,’ I said breathlessly. ‘I want to wait here. See his face.’

‘Please, Em,’ he went on. ‘You don’t need to do this. Please come back inside.’

‘Don’t you dare tell me what I do and don’t need,’ I cried. He went to put his arm around me, but I shrugged it off.

It may have been the darkness or his drunken state, but it took a while for Adam to register that it was me when he emerged from the maze. I felt numb as I watched his brain work it out.

‘Em?’ he slurred. He turned to look at his dishevelled companion, her hair on end, and her bra straps hanging halfway down her arms. I recognized her as one of the congregation from earlier in the day. But then her mink satin dress and fancy up-do had looked classy. Now, the material was ruched up around her hips, and her lipstick was smeared all over her face.

‘What are you doing out here? Poppy will catch her death of cold.’

If I hadn’t been holding her in my arms, I would have swung for him. ‘How sweet,’ I said, icily. ‘So considerate.’

‘Hi,’ said the woman beside him, lurching forward with an outward hand. ‘I’m—’

‘Knock it off,’ spat Adam at her.

‘No, it’s okay,’ I said. ‘Why don’t you introduce me to your friend?’

‘Leave it, Em,’ said Adam.

‘Introduce me to your fucking friend,’ I hissed.

‘Er . . . this is . . . this is . . .’

‘Oh, don’t tell me . . .’ she slurred. ‘This is your wife and kid.’ She laughed to herself. ‘Wouldn’t that be something, eh?’

I remained silent.

‘Oh, Christ, really?’ she said, the obvious suddenly dawning on her.

‘I’m afraid so,’ I said tightly.

‘Sorry,’ she managed before stumbling away. I watched numbly as she headed back to the hotel, zigzagging across the lawn.

‘Do all your women need to be in that state?’ I asked coldly.

‘Em, let’s get you back inside,’ said James, holding onto my elbow and trying to steer me away. I held firm.

‘Believe it or not, some sober women do actually want to fuck me as well. Unlike my fiancée.’ He put the last word in inverted commas with his fingers.

‘Okay, that’s enough, Adam,’ interjected James. ‘Emily, let’s go.’

I shrugged him off. ‘So, there’s more than one?’

Adam laughed. ‘What did you think was going to happen? You haven’t let me near you for months. What do you think I am, a monk?’

‘Go fuck yourself,’ I cried.

‘Gladly,’ he called out, as I turned my back to him.

‘I’m so sorry you had to see that,’ said James.

‘Would you mind calling me a cab, please?’ I said numbly. ‘I’d like to take Poppy home.’





43

Pippa was my rock for the next five days, whilst I processed what Adam had done and what it meant. I used to scorn women who’d found out their partners were cheating and said things like, ‘I just didn’t see it coming. It was so out of character.’

I’d pitied them for not seeing what was clearly in front of their eyes. Yet here I am, thinking the very same thing. I couldn’t even begin to compute it. We’d had a tough time recently, what with Pammie and the baby, but I didn’t think we’d reached the stage where he’d happily risk throwing everything away.

‘What are you going to do?’ Pippa asked for the umpteenth time. ‘What do you want to do?’

‘What I want to do and what I should do are two entirely different things,’ I said.

She knew what I meant. We’d had enough ‘what would you do if your boyfriend strayed?’ conversations to last us a lifetime. Except, when you thought he wouldn’t, it was a whole lot easier to take the moral high ground, and declare that if he ever did, that would be it; you’d be out of there. Yet now, in the mire of it all, having loved that person and believing I was going to spend the rest of my life with him, suddenly things aren’t quite so clear-cut.

‘It wasn’t what he did, it was how he did it,’ I said.

‘Does it make a difference?’ Pippa asked. ‘A cheat’s a cheat.’

‘It was the way he spoke to me, the way he alluded to there being more. Lots more. Why would he feel the need to hurt me like that?’

‘Er, because he’s a first-class tosser?’

‘How could this have happened to me again?’ I cried. ‘What a fool I’ve been.’

Pippa put a reassuring hand on my back. ‘It’s not you who’s the fool,’ she said. ‘If he can’t see what he stands to lose . . .’

‘So where do I go from here?’ I asked.

‘Do you love him?’

‘Of course I do, but I’m not prepared to take this lying down. If he’s coming back, it’s going to be on my terms.’

‘You can’t take him back,’ she cried. ‘You just can’t.’

‘But I’ve got Poppy to think about,’ I said. ‘It’s not just me I need to think about anymore. She needs a dad.’