Trials of Love, page 17
“Right,” said Mary, “let’s get this bit of business out of the way, then we can catch up. That’s much more important. I want £200,000 for the business,” she added breezily, trying hard to sound businesslike and failing.
I was shocked as I recalled Matt’s words: “It’s worth £250,000, but offer £210,000 and hope to settle for around £225,000.”
“But it’s worth more than that, Mary.”
Mary’s chin jutted out. “I won’t take a penny more. There’s no point offering it to me, Rachel, so forget it.” She held out her hand for me to shake. “Two hundred thousand pounds. Do we have a deal?”
I shook it and the deal was sealed.
“Who are you getting to run the place, because you’re going back to Doncaster, aren’t you?”
I nodded. “I had thought of Emily but she’s no longer here. Who do you suggest?”
She shook her head sadly at the mention of Emily. “Well, Linda Ferguson has more or less run it for me for the last two years.”
“And you recommend her?”
“She’s highly organised and trustworthy. I think she would be perfect for you.”
“In that case she’ll do.”
With the business sorted, we chatted amiably until I looked at my watch and realised it was time to go.
*
Later, back at the hotel, I phoned home. I got straight to the point.
“How did it go, Charles?”
“How did what go, dear?”
“Your visit to the doctor, of course.”
“Fine, no problem. Wasted his time. Did you sort out your business?”
“Yes, all sorted. How are the girls?”
“No problem – missing you, of course, but they’re not alone in that.”
At least when I went to bed my worries for Charles could be put to one side. Instead my thoughts were for Matt. How could I have been so stupid? I had to tell him about my indiscretion with Lynne Bennett.
I phoned him early the following morning to be met by a flat, toneless voice.
“Matt Bishop.”
“Matt, it’s Rachel. I’ve been so stupid. I really need to tell you”
“Rachel, it’s good to hear from you again. Can we meet up for dinner tomorrow evening and you can tell me all about your deal?”
I tried to interrupt. “No, Matt, it’s not about—”
“Rachel, I’m sorry, I must go – I’m late for a meeting. Can we eat at your hotel about eight?”
I agreed and rang off.
Chapter 50
Matt
I entered the lobby of the Abbey Hotel in Great Malvern to await the arrival of Rachel. She came down the stairs to greet me almost immediately, and it was like stepping back in time. I stood open-mouthed as I watched her coming towards me with her ginger hair draped over her shoulders and her tight dress exaggerating her curves. She smiled as she saw my expression and dropped a kiss on my cheek. For the first time in weeks, Emily wasn’t at the forefront of my thoughts.
We went to the hotel restaurant and ordered our food. The quality of the cuisine went by unnoticed as the conversation flowed. Business was dispatched within ten minutes before we rekindled old, happy memories. Had everything really been that good? I couldn’t remember any serious arguments. I asked Rachel whether she could remember any.
Her bright green eyes were full of tenderness as she replied, “No, Matt, we never argued. It helped that I could read your mind so easily.”
“No, you’re just saying that.”
“Matt, believe me, I could. Come on, let’s go outside into the garden. It’s a beautiful evening.”
The moon was full and the fragrance of roses filled the air as we looked out towards the hills that peered down on us.
“Yes, you can,” said Rachel as she moved closer to me.
“What?”
“You can kiss me.”
I smiled. “Hell, you’re right – you can read my mind.”
We stayed outside, enjoying the quiet and the comfortable silence until Rachel asked, “Do you want a nightcap?”
I nodded and we went back to her room, drank and chatted, until Rachel went to refill my glass.
“No, Rach. I’d better not have another. I’m driving.”
She looked me in the eye. “You could always stay the night.”
All of a sudden the effects of the alcohol disappeared and the question hung heavy.
“Rachel, if I stay, I’ll love the night, but in the morning I’ll hate myself and regret it. But if I say no I’ll regret that as well, so what do I do?”
Rachel moved towards me just as my mobile phone rang.
“Matt, thank God, where have you been?” It was a highly agitated Anita. “You must come. Get here now, and I mean now!”
“What’s happening? What’s wrong?”
“It’s Emily, Matt. Graham has turned up and he’s found out – he means trouble. Quickly.”
I was confused now. “But what’s he found out?”
“Just get here now, Matt, or it might be too late.”
*
Anita’s flat was normally fifteen minutes away, but this time I did it in eight. I raced up the stairs to be met by Anita, who was pacing up and down and looking ready to burst into tears.
“He’s in there and he’s locked the door and won’t let me in. He’s got Emily. I’m frightened of what he might do.”
I had no idea what Anita was talking about, but she was clearly scared for Emily and that was enough for me.
I hammered on the door. “Graham, it’s Matt here. Let me in right now.”
There was no answer.
I tried again, shouting this time.
I heard a muffled sound of sobbing. That was it. I took a step back and launched myself at the door. It gave way and I staggered into the room, only just managing to stay on my feet.
“I’m in here,” sobbed Emily from the bedroom.
I rushed into the room to be met by a sight that would stay in my memory for many years to come. Emily was on the bed with her top torn and her bra pulled down. Her skirt was pulled up and Graham’s hand was reaching up inside it. He was lying on top of her, oblivious to the slaps and punches that Emily was raining down on his face. Her own face was awash with tears.
I let out a howl of pain and launched myself at him, dragging him away from Emily. I slammed my fist into his face again and again until he slumped to the floor, unconscious. Emily fell into my arms, sobbing uncontrollably.
“Did he?” I demanded.
She shook her head.
“Take your time,” I said gently, stroking her hair. “There’s no hurry.”
Between sobs she said, “He would have done, but you got here just in time. I kept telling him no, and tried to push him off, but he wouldn’t listen. He was drunk and out of control. I did try to stop him, Matt, really I did. Honestly.”
Just then Graham came round and slid haphazardly along the floor before disappearing through the door, which was hanging at a weird angle from the door frame.
“Emily,” I said, looking into those eyes that I knew so well. “You need to tell me what just happened. More than that, though, you need to tell me what the hell is going on, full stop. I feel like I’ve stepped into a farce where I’m a bit-part player. Please,” I exhorted, “explain what is happening, because, well, quite frankly I’m lost.”
Chapter 51
Emily
It had been an uneventful evening. There was a knock at the door and I went to answer it. I thought Anita had returned from tennis and forgotten her key again. She was always doing it. Only this time it wasn’t Anita. It was Graham, leaning against the door frame.
He smiled at me. “I need to talk to you.”
“I’m afraid that I’m not into tennis right now,” I explained.
“I know. Can I come in for just a moment?”
It must be something to do with tennis, I thought; I can soon get rid of him. I moved aside to let him enter and as I did so I caught the whiff of alcohol on his breath.
“It will have to be quick, Graham. Anita will be here in a moment and we have plans for this evening,” I lied.
He ignored me. “Do you have anything to drink?”
“What d’ you want, Graham?” I quickly began to realise that I’d made a mistake by letting him in.
He went to the fridge and found himself a bottle of white wine and returned to the lounge with two glasses from the kitchen. He waved the bottle at me enquiringly and I shook my head.
“What’s this all about?” I tried again.
He poured himself a large glass and sat back on the sofa. He helped himself to a deep gulp of wine before looking me straight in the eye.
“I have it on good authority that you have been telling people that you are having an affair with me, and that you have moved in with me to boot.”
I gasped at his words and struggled to find an explanation that might satisfy him, but couldn’t.
“You don’t deny it, then?” he pressed.
“My private life is between Matt and me. I couldn’t care less what wicked stories people are making up.”
“I happen to believe what I’m being told!” he suddenly shouted, his face an angry red. And then he continued, coldly and calmly, “And if I’m being cast as the bad guy then I should enjoy some of the benefits.”
He stood up and went to the front door, put the latch down and locked us in. “We don’t won’t to be disturbed, do we, my lovely?” He moved towards me with a lascivious grin.
Just then there was a knock on the door. “It’s me,” shouted Anita, “let me in!”
“Help!” I shouted at the top of my voice. “Graham’s here and he’s threatening me!”
Graham moved swiftly across the room and covered my mouth with his hand. “Now, no more of that, my Emily,” he said quietly into my ear. He nibbled my ear as I tried in vain to push him away.
There was more hammering at the door but Graham ignored it and used his superior strength to push me towards the bedroom.
“Wait,” I said, “can we talk about this?”
“What is there to talk about? You’ve used me. Now it’s my turn to use you. We can talk afterwards.”
I desperately needed time. “I need that drink after all – can we bring the wine in?”
In the bedroom I poured him a large measure of wine and myself a small glassful. My heart was pounding but I tried hard to remain in control. Why on earth had I let him in? How could I have been so stupid?
“How have the mixed matches been going?”
“What?” His eyes glazed over as he tried to process the question. “I don’t give a shit about the tennis. Come here.”
He reached over and grabbed my blouse and tore it down to my waist. I cried out in sheer horror, but it made no difference as he pushed me on to the bed and lay on top of me. I shouted and shouted as I punched him in the face with all my might. It made no difference as he wrenched down my bra and moved his hand up and between my thighs.
“No, no…” I kept screaming. Then there was a loud crashing noise and Matt was in the room. Within seconds Graham was lying unconscious on the floor and I felt strong, comforting arms around me. My hammering heart slowed as I melted into Matt. I felt safe and secure and knew I’d feel lost without those arms.
Later, when I had stopped crying and finished shaking, Matt sat on the sofa next to me and asked, “So you never went to live with that ogre, and you clearly never had an affair with him?”
I shook my head sadly, unable to look him in the eye.
Then Anita came into the room. “Are you alright? Did he…?”
I shook my head and before I knew what was happening I started shaking and the tears began to flow again.
Anita took control, looking hard into my face. She said, “You need a sedative so you can get some sleep tonight. I’ll nip next door. Maggie usually has some. It’ll give me a chance to apologise for all the noise. I’ll bring some through in a few moments.”
I looked at my bed, and turning back, asked, “Can we swap bedrooms just for tonight, please? I don’t think…”
“Of course, no problem.”
Before I moved away Anita looked at Matt. “If possible, Matt, it would be good if you could stay here tonight. That door is clearly not safe. So if you could sleep on the sofa tonight, and tomorrow I’ll get it fixed, while you two have the serious conversation you’ve been avoiding for too long.”
I saw Matt nod and knew that no matter how much it hurt I owed him his freedom. He deserved the opportunity to start the family that I couldn’t give him.
Chapter 52
Matt
I tossed and turned for hours. It had nothing to do with the ancient, uncomfortable sofa. My mind was in turmoil. What I kept coming back to was this. I knew Emily still loved me. When she moved into my arms earlier this evening, or probably yesterday evening, it was as though she had never been away. She fitted so snugly; it felt so right. I know she had never really recovered from the trauma of the second miscarriage, which had been devastating, but why had she moved out, then lied about moving in with Graham?
Eventually I nodded off and it seemed like only moments later when noises from the kitchen brought me to an uncertain state of wakefulness. I looked at my watch. It was 8am. I smiled at Emily as she offered me a coffee and I sat down.
She looked awkward and uncomfortable as she sat opposite me and said, “I guess I owe you some explanations.” Just then my mobile phone started ringing. It was Rachel.
“Yes, Rachel, Emily’s OK, thanks. You don’t need to apologise for last night.” I tried to keep the conversation short as I looked up to see Emily’s eyes on me, listening to every word.
As soon as I put the phone down Emily asked, “Were you with Rachel last night when Anita phoned?”
“Yes, we were talking business. Her nursery businesses.”
“And afterwards?”
“Nothing happened,” I blustered.
“I see. Anita’s call interrupted things, did it?” Her voice was gently mocking but I could see the hurt in her eyes.
I moved to take her in my arms. She had to understand. She must know she was the only one for me. My mobile rang again.
“Rachel, what’s happened?”
As soon as I had said, “Rachel”, I saw Emily disappear through the door.
As keen as I was to stall Emily, there was something in Rachel’s voice that demanded my attention.
“Charles dropped Paula and Bev with his parents yesterday and was supposed to pick them up later that evening, but he didn’t show. They just phoned me to see if I’d heard anything. I know we were going to meet up to sign off some papers, but I’m worried and I need to get back as soon as possible.”
“Of course,” I replied. “Just get in touch when it suits.”
Rachel rang off immediately.
I rushed downstairs and out into the street, my eyes darting everywhere. She couldn’t have gone far. Where was she? I wandered the streets, looking in cafés, anywhere that she might be. Cold and disheartened, I walked slowly back to Anita’s flat. I had to push past a workman who was labouring slowly on the door, trying to stifle an early-morning yawn, as I offered him a “Good morning.”
There was a note on the kitchen table, perched up against a Worcester sauce bottle. I quickly snatched it up. Damn – it was from Anita.
To Emily and Matt,
So glad you’ve gone out together to sort yourselves out.
About time too. You were meant to be together.
Love,
Anita
PS: Emily, I’ll miss you. But don’t feel bad about leaving.
I dropped the note back on the table as though it was burning my fingers. Meant to be together. It was that phrase again. I felt a rush of emotion as I recalled the letter from Douglas Bottomley on Emily’s and my wedding day – the happiest day of my life. How could things have turned out so badly? I left, vowing to return after work and make Emily see that we belonged together, once and for all.
I arrived at work at 10am. By now Marcia was used to the once-disciplined and well-organised Mr Bishop’s errant ways, and just smiled and said, “Good morning, Mr Bishop.” She just couldn’t bring herself to call me Matt. I got stuck into work and managed to shift a good deal of stuff from my in tray that had grown alarmingly over the last few months. I felt determined. This evening Emily and I would talk and talk until all our problems were resolved, and we would resume our life together.
It was shortly before I was due to leave for the day that the phone rang. It was a strangely emotionless Rachel who spoke. “They’ve found Charles, and I need to talk to someone about it.”
“Of course. Is he alright?”
“No, Matt, he’s not…he’s dead. Killed himself. They found him in the wood at the back of the garden, as per the letter he left for me.”
“What?!” I sat back down. Why?” I spluttered. “Why would he do such a thing? Are you sure it was suicide?”
“Oh yes. His letter explained everything. He discovered a while ago that he had pancreatic cancer but he didn’t tell me. Didn’t want to worry me, you see. Two days ago when he went to the hospital he found out that there was nothing they could do. He couldn’t face the weeks of pain and the loss of dignity and so he chose this way out.” There was a pause, then her false composure was lost. “How could he do it to us, Matt? How could he do it to me and the children?” She sobbed.
I muttered something about him loving them so much that he didn’t want to hurt them by having them witness his slow, painful death.
“Don’t you see? That’s why I feel so guilty. I know he loved me. He was always telling me that. But I never, ever told him that I loved him, because I didn’t. Oh yes, I cared for him. Yes, I respected him, admired him, liked him. But didn’t love him like…like…like I knew I was capable of. And now I can never, ever put that right.”
