The Soulmate(52)

But I don’t believe him. I did do something wrong. And it is my burden to carry. Still, there’s something about hearing him say the words aloud, knowing that he is willing to carry this weight for me. For now, it’s enough.

It’s not lost on me that, despite everything, Gabe is the only one who can make it better.



The girls watch another movie after The Little Mermaid and I lie on the couch with a novel I don’t read while Gabe massages my feet. We keep the curtains drawn and, mercifully, no member of my family drops in to pay us a visit.

We order pizza for dinner and open a bottle of wine. The girls are lovely, delightful caricatures of themselves, which makes me think that Gabe must have bribed them to ‘be extra kind to Mummy’. I’m fine with it. If my soul was ill, this is my salve. Gabe is my salve.

He puts the girls to bed single-handedly. The stories are spectacular. There are costumes, singing and dancing, and a performance with several speaking roles. The girls laugh so hard I am sure someone is going to vomit, and equally sure that they are unlikely to settle before midnight. But I’m wrong on both counts.

When Gabe emerges from their room at 8 pm, I mute the television. I open my mouth to congratulate him, but he presses a finger to my lips. ‘Don’t talk.’

And so I don’t. I remain silent as he kneels between my legs and removes my underwear. This is exactly what I need. To disappear into a world of me and Gabe, a world where nothing exists except us.

I throw my head back and bury my fingers in his hair and give in to it.





53


AMANDA

BEFORE



‘How on earth did Gabe Gerard get involved with Arthur Spriggs?’

It was like a nightmare. A recurring one. Part of me was shocked to learn that Arthur Spriggs still existed. After he disappeared from our lives the last time, it felt like he was a character in a movie – like Freddy Krueger or Hannibal Lecter – someone who had been terrifying right up until the point he ceased to exist.

Max shrugged wearily. ‘Same way I did the first time.’

Apparently, it wasn’t a huge surprise that they’d crossed paths. Crooks, politicians and oligarchs all attended the same glamorous parties frequented by people working in investor relations. The only thing you needed to earn a place on the guest list, apparently, was power.

According to Max, Gabe was a lamb to the slaughter. After all, Arthur Spriggs wasn’t an idiot. He would have seen the young executive, eager to prove himself, and known exactly how to play him. Gabe forced the deal through, despite the red flags raised during the compliance process, and Max himself had signed off on it.

‘It’s my fault ultimately,’ Max conceded. ‘I approved it.’

‘Can you reject his investment?’

‘It’s too late. The deal is done.’

‘So . . . what happens now? What are you going to do?’

Max wouldn’t meet my eyes, which made me worry. ‘Same as last time,’ he said. ‘We have to be creative.’



There were several more meetings at the house between Max, Baz and Gabe after that. I didn’t eavesdrop on them again. I remembered how they’d involved Arthur Spriggs’s two-year-old daughter previously; I had no interest in knowing what they were planning this time.

Still, it was impossible not to notice the increase in security around that time. Baz brought on an assistant, a young guy who was almost as big and scary-looking as Baz himself, and who was either stationed outside the house or accompanied me wherever I went. For the first time in years, I had to start wearing my panic button again. And Max was always on edge, almost jumpy.

It was a Saturday night, around 9 pm, when it happened. Max had been tense all evening, constantly checking his phone. When it finally rang, he leaped up and ran to his home office. I’d known this was coming. I’d been on tenterhooks for weeks, waiting for this whole episode to be over, while fantasising that it would just go away on its own. No such luck.

I couldn’t help it; I had to know. I hurried down the hall and slipped into my study to listen at the wall.

‘Arthur,’ Max said. ‘I hope my team are treating you well?’

I was relieved to know that it was Arthur himself, and not his daughter, who was with Max’s ‘team’.

‘I understand – and they have been instructed not to harm you,’ Max said. ‘All we need is for you to sell your shares back to me and then you will be returned to your home.’

There was silence for a few seconds; I presumed Arthur Spriggs was favouring my husband with some choice words.

‘You’re in a van,’ Max said patiently. ‘Where we drive it is up to you. I’m hoping you cooperate, so we drive you home, after which we never have to cross paths again. If that’s what you want, you’re going to have to –’

Max stopped, presumably because Arthur had cut him off. After a moment, he said, ‘You don’t seem to understand that you’re not in a position to negotiate. I have no wish to harm you, but if you don’t cooperate, I will.’

Another silence. When Max spoke again, he sounded irritated. ‘Look, Arthur, we can do this the easy way, or we can do it the hard way. It’s up to you.’

Now the longest silence of them all. I wondered what was happening. Was Arthur calling his bluff? Surely not. But if he did . . . what did that mean? Max couldn’t actually kill him. He wouldn’t. Was that what Arthur was banking on?