The Wives, page 11
Natasha frowned. She’d already guessed this. It was why she was giving her friend so much leeway over her obsession with Daniel. But this didn’t explain her reaction to Natasha’s news. ‘There’s something else you’re not telling me, isn’t there?’
Barbara shook her head. But her eyes filled with tears. ‘I shouldn’t have said anything.’
Famous last words. ‘Perhaps, but you did, so now you’d better tell me what it was you were going to say before you got cold feet.’
‘Daniel…’
‘What about him?’ Natasha said when nothing more was forthcoming.
Barbara put the glass she’d been holding down and reached across the table for Natasha’s hand. ‘I know something I shouldn’t. Something you, however, should know and obviously don’t.’
How many drinks had her friend had? She wasn’t making any sense but the feeling that the ship was rising and falling as it hit wave after wave returned. ‘Something I should know. You’d better tell me.’
‘If it gets out that I told you, I’d be in serious trouble. Fired, maybe even prosecuted.’
‘Right, then I’d better promise not to tell anyone that you told me, but if you don’t tell me what the hell is going on, I swear to God, I’ll throw you overboard.’
‘You’re trying for a baby—’
‘Yes.’ Natasha’s voice was raised, loud enough to draw curious glances from other passengers.
‘Try all you want, but you won’t get pregnant by Daniel. He’s had a vasectomy.’
23
BARBARA
Barbara watched as the irritation on Natasha’s face was replaced by amused disbelief.
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she said. ‘Of course he hasn’t had a vasectomy! He’s as eager to have a child as I am.’
It was too late for regrets, too late to wish Barbara had kept her mouth shut, way, way too late to wish she’d never looked at Daniel’s medical records. ‘I’m so sorry, Tash, but he’s lying to you. He’s had a vasectomy.’
‘That’s ridiculous!’ But there was less force in the words now and Natasha’s expression was no longer amused. ‘I don’t understand, how would you know such a thing?’
Barbara shouldn’t, of course. It was completely against every policy, every rule, to access Daniel’s medical records. ‘I remember when you met him, you were telling us how amazing he was. Honestly, you painted such a picture that we thought—’
‘We? So Tracy Ann and Michele know about this too?’
Barbara shook her head. ‘No, I never told them. There was no reason to. But we did think Daniel sounded too good to be true. Tracy Ann thought he had to be married. Michele that he was some sort of con artist. The following day, I was in work and…’ She groaned and ran a hand through her hair. ‘I don’t know what possessed me, but I searched the system to see if he had medical records.’ A flush of colour flooded her cheeks. ‘I was being protective of you. I wanted to find out if he was married, or if there was anything dodgy, but there wasn’t. I did see the note about the vasectomy, but I didn’t think that would matter. I thought you’d probably see it as an advantage actually. You’d always said you weren’t interested in having children; how was I to know you’d had a change of heart?’
Barbara looked towards the bar. She’d like another drink. In fact, she’d like to line several up and drink them one after the other. With a sigh, she looked back to Natasha who was sitting rigidly, eyes wide, lips pressed so tightly together it must have hurt. Barbara had done this. Caused this pain. Not Daniel. His secret wasn’t hers to tell. Worse, Barbara wasn’t sure about her motive for telling – was it because Natasha was her friend and deserved to know the truth, or could it be that Barbara hoped it would damage their marriage, and maybe Daniel would need consolation? Was she really that desperate? That wicked and pathetic?
Natasha peeled her lips apart. ‘When did he have it done?’
Barbara wasn’t sure why it mattered. ‘Two years ago. I don’t remember the exact date.’
‘Before he met me.’
‘Yes. He probably didn’t think it was worth telling you. You’ve always been adamant you didn’t want children.’
‘You don’t understand.’ Natasha stared down at her clasped hands.
Barbara would add it to the list of things she didn’t understand: why she’d become so stupidly obsessed with her best friend’s husband, why Ralph’s retirement was proving to be a nightmare, why she felt so damn miserable every day. But Natasha was her friend, and she’d caused her pain; now it was time to stop being so self-obsessed and try to help. ‘Maybe not, but if talking about it would help, why don’t you try me?’
Natasha was still staring at her hands, fingers clasping and unclasping. She pulled them apart and looked up.
Barbara was taken aback. She’d seen her friend irritated, annoyed, upset, but she’d never seen her angry. And it was directed at her. It seemed the messenger was indeed going to be shot.
24
NATASHA
She wanted to reach across the table and tear Barbara’s eyes out. No, on second thoughts, maybe tear those loose lips from her face, her tongue from her mouth. Cause her as much pain as she’d caused Natasha. So much easier to blame her than to face the truth about Daniel, about her marriage. Anyway, Barbara was right, Natasha had always said she didn’t want to have children, and when she’d reconsidered, when she’d decided she no longer wanted to be a career woman, when she looked at her friends with their children and thought their lives looked better, she’d never told them. Only Daniel knew about her change of heart.
They’d been going out a few months, he’d met her friends and seemed to fit into her life so well. She remembered looking across the table at him and thinking this was what she wanted. And then he’d proposed, and everything was looking rosy. She’d mentioned children. ‘I was thinking I’d like two and if we’re lucky, it’ll be one of each.’
She remembered he’d smiled.
The bastard had smiled. He hadn’t taken the opportunity to tell her the truth. Not then, not later when he insisted on a prenup that would leave her with nothing if the marriage ended within two years and she was childless.
The drink Barbara had brought Natasha was sitting untouched. Picking it up, she took a sip, then tilted and gulped a few mouthfuls. ‘It appears I have no need to cut out the booze.’
‘I’m so sorry. I should never have told you; it wasn’t my secret to tell.’
‘Perhaps you could have told me more kindly.’ Not to have spat it out with such viciousness, not to have almost gloated in the telling. ‘You’re my friend; you were looking out for me.’
‘I’m sure Daniel would have told you if he had known you had a change of heart about having a child.’
‘He did know. I told him, before we got engaged, that I wanted children.’ Natasha almost smiled at the look of shock on Barbara’s face. ‘Yes, it’s hard to believe the eminently charming, charismatic Daniel could be such a liar, isn’t it?’ Natasha drained her glass and got to her feet. ‘I need a refill. I’ll get another for you too; you’ll need it when I tell you the rest.’
There was only one other person at the bar, but they were ordering a couple of finicky cocktails so Natasha was forced to wait. She turned to look across the open pool deck. So many people. They looked as if they were enjoying themselves, but perhaps they were all lying. Perhaps every single person lounging on the sunbeds or lazily swimming in the pool was harbouring a secret. How would anyone know? Liars didn’t have horns or forked tongues.
‘Two large chardonnays,’ she said, when it was her turn to order.
‘There you go, Mrs Vickery-Orme, enjoy.’
The magic of the crown medallion. No need for money or credit cards. The chip in the crown easily read by the staff’s equipment. No secrets here. Perhaps that’s the way it should be. If Natasha ruled the world, everyone would have a chip, updated automatically by some higher power. Although what would hers say? She wasn’t sure.
‘Here you go,’ she said, putting the glass on the table beside Barbara’s now empty one. She was being unusually quiet, maybe worried about the ramifications of what she’d done. If the hospital found out, she’d be fired at the very least. If Daniel found out… well, that wasn’t going to happen. The time for truth had passed. ‘I won’t tell him that you told me,’ she said now. Expecting to see Barbara look a little relieved, she was surprised when her expression stayed tight as she reached for her wine and swallowed a couple of mouthfuls. ‘There’s no point really,’ Natasha said finally.
‘You were always so clear. You didn’t want children. Maybe Daniel—’
Natasha frowned. ‘You think I’m lying? That I never told him I wanted children. Is that it?’
‘I can’t see why he wouldn’t have told you about the vasectomy if you had. It doesn’t make sense.’
‘No doubt he had his reasons. Daniel is good at that. He doesn’t do anything without a good motive.’ She picked up her glass, swirled the wine, took a sip. ‘There’s something else, something you don’t know.’ She quickly spelt out the terms of the prenup.
Barbara looked appalled. ‘So if the marriage ends before you reach your second anniversary, you both leave with what you came into the marriage with.’
‘Yes. I’d move back to my tiny apartment. I’d have to go back to work.’ She put her glass down and wiped a hand over her face. ‘I can’t go back to nursing, I just can’t, but I’d need to work to pay the mortgage on the apartment.’
‘But that’s if your marriage doesn’t last,’ Barbara said. ‘There’s no reason to think it wouldn’t, is there?’
Was she for real? ‘You’ve just told me that he’s had a vasectomy and has been lying to me for months. God!’ She shoved her hand into her hair and yanked as anger sizzled through her. ‘Even earlier, we had sex and I told him I thought this might be it. And do you know what that bastard did? He fucking smiled at me. Smiled!’ He’d made a fool of her. She’d make him pay for that.
‘So what are you going to do?’
‘I don’t know.’ The flash of anger faded, leaving her feeling weak. ‘You’ll think I’m foolish, but I had my heart set on this, you know: having a child, maybe two. Being a mother rather than a career woman.’
Barbara pushed her glass to one side and leaned forward to grasp Natasha’s hand. ‘Are you sure? You loved your job. The last couple of years have been tough, but they were the exception, not the rule. Things will go back to how they were—’
‘No! They won’t.’ Once again, Natasha’s voice had risen and attracted sideways glances from other passengers. She glared at them till they turned away. ‘It’s like being in a bloody goldfish bowl.’
‘The cruise was your idea,’ Barbara reminded her. She looked around. ‘I have to admit, I’m finding it all a bit too claustrophobic for my liking. I’ll be glad to get off tomorrow and the following few days and I’m relieved we only have one more full day at sea.’ She waited a beat before saying, ‘I know I’ve said it before, Tasha, but I’m saying it again: you should get help. Talk to someone. All the stress of your job, especially the last couple of years, I’m sure you have PTSD or something like that. It’d help to talk.’
Natasha pulled her hand away and sat back. ‘I don’t need to talk to anyone. I’ve made my decision; I’m never going back to nursing.’
‘Well, you might not need to, if you can get over this—’
‘Get over this! Can you hear yourself!? Daniel deceived me; how can I possibly forget, let alone forgive that?’
‘Well, then you need to face it. If you leave him, you’ll have to go back to work.’
Natasha laughed. The sound wasn’t pretty and once again drew glances from people sitting nearby. This time, there was an element of fear in their response. Ignoring them, Natasha leaned forward. ‘You think that’s the only option for me, do you? Shut up and put up with my marriage as it is, or return to that nightmare job?’ Her voice dropped to a whisper. ‘You don’t know me at all.’
25
MICHELE
There was only one way to deal with monsters. Cut off their heads.
When she saw Don’s hunched shoulders and hang-dog expression, she’d almost have done it. Taken a very sharp knife, sneaked up behind Daniel – maybe when he was showing off his tanned, muscled body on a sun lounger – crept up, sliced quick and hard across his throat. Chopped his head right off, grabbed it by the hair, and held it aloft in triumph.
She and Don were on the jogging track – walking, not running – seven laps were equivalent to a mile. They were going to do two miles, then go down to listen to a lecture on the flora and fauna of Zanzibar. At 3 p.m., there was afternoon tea, following which Don was going to a lecture on the political history of the country, and she was going for a facial in the spa. Each of them was determined to get the most from the cruise. ‘We’re not going to let that bastard ruin this holiday,’ she said, tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow. ‘We’re going to enjoy every moment.’ Her joie-de-vivre was forced, but necessary. If Don knew how dark her thoughts were, he’d be even more depressed than he was. He was a good man. Decent, hard-working. A good husband, great father. The kind of man who’d say, yes, of course, as soon as he was asked to do something. And that bastard Daniel had taken advantage.
But he’d messed with the wrong person, because Don was married to her, and she wasn’t nearly as nice as he was. There was a streak of ferocity lying deep inside her. She felt it stir when either of her children were threatened and used the edge of it to right a wrong against them. For Don, the man she’d loved for so long, she was happy to allow it completely off the leash.
‘Two more laps,’ he said as they passed by the marker. ‘I’m looking forward to that afternoon tea already.’
‘Because you didn’t eat enough at lunch?’ She laughed and linked arms with him tighter. ‘Don’t forget we’ve dinner in only a few hours.’
‘No problem.’
No problem. If only everything were so easy. She’d searched the corners of her mind for a solution to their dilemma and had been unable to come up with anything that didn’t require taking a massive step. Usually, she’d turn to her girlfriends for advice. Not this time. She obviously couldn’t talk to the loved-up, besotted Natasha about what a shit her husband was. Barbara, too, looked to be under Daniel’s spell. That only left Tracy Ann. Michele had thought about asking for her advice but… She frowned… She couldn’t put her finger on it but there was something off with Tracy Ann. It wasn’t just that misguided kiss. She was convinced she’d been right there, and Tracy Ann had been drunk when that happened. It was something more. She was all smiles, as ever, but there was something sad behind her eyes. If she didn’t know Blake adored her, she’d have thought there was something wrong there, but they were rock solid. Weren’t they? Weren’t they?
She thought about those bruises on Tracy Ann’s hand. They looked painful. Had Tracy Ann really fallen getting out of the hot tub? It was unlike the nimble woman to be so clumsy. Blake hadn’t seemed worried, had remarked that she had a bruise on her thigh too, before carelessly brushing them away. Too carelessly? Why had he mentioned the bruise on her thigh at all? Was it so that the friends wouldn’t question it if they saw Tracy Ann by the pool or in the spa? The friends had, after all, talked about going into the sauna at some stage.
They’d see the bruise and not question its provenance.
Michele’s grip on Don’s arm tightened as a terrible thought hit her. It couldn’t be true, could it? Blake wouldn’t hurt Tracy Ann.
Maybe there were still more secrets to be revealed…
26
TRACY ANN
She hated lying to Blake. Hated it more when he believed her so easily, and almost cried when he’d taken her hand and kissed the bruises that marked her skin. It had almost broken her heart when he then bent to kiss the bruises on her thigh. When she’d seen them, she’d been horrified. They looked exactly what they were. Bruises made by fingers. She used the rounded end of her hairbrush and slammed it into her thigh, over and over. The pain was agonising, and yet almost satisfying. As if the self-flagellation was some sort of atonement for her stupidity. She didn’t stop till she was certain she’d covered the glaring reality of what Daniel had done.
‘It was my fault,’ she said, when Blake threatened to complain to the staff. ‘I wasn’t paying attention to where I put my stupid feet and I should have been holding on to the rail.’ She ran her fingers over the bruises on her hand. ‘They look more dramatic than they are because I bruise so easily and I’m so pale.’
‘They’re not painful?’
‘Not in the slightest.’ Another lie. The self-inflicted bruises hurt like a bitch. She lifted her leg and pointed her toes. ‘See, I can still dance!’ Pleased to see him smile, she lowered her foot to the floor, swallowing the pain the movement caused. ‘Right, if you’re going to get the start of that lecture, you’d better hurry.’
‘You won’t come?’
‘No,’ she said, pressing a kiss to his cheek. ‘I’m going to sit out on our balcony with my Kindle and work my way through all the books I’ve been promising to get to when I had the time.’ She waved her hand in the air. ‘At four, I have a manicure booked. Maybe I can ask her to match the colours to the bruises, what d’you think?’
‘I think you’re one crazy woman,’ he said, pulling her close. He kissed her, then moved his lips down her neck. ‘Maybe I don’t need to go to that talk after all.’
