In the evening Ewan would meet me at the hotel and we would go out to dinner together like a normal couple. I didn’t fear being seen and it was relaxed and natural. I even thought it was all somewhat romantic.
The only problem was sometimes I had to take calls from Tom and pretend I was at home. Fortunately, Tom was so busy that he rarely texted or rang. When Ewan was with me during the phone calls, he would go very quiet, his body language tense.
‘Let’s go out to dinner now,’ I suggested on the last evening.
We’d both be leaving early the next morning and I’d just heard from Tom that his plane would be landing a couple of hours after mine as he was taking the night flight home.
‘This has been wonderful,’ I said to Ewan.
‘It has. Very. You’re such easy company.’ Ewan smiled and I knew he was genuinely happy. ‘Maybe we can do it again.’
‘I’d love that,’ I said.
He took my hand and kissed it. We were silent for a while after that. We were in a nice restaurant eating traditional Italian food. Ewan had a pasta dish with seafood and I had gone for a thin crust pizza which was so much nicer than anything you could find in the UK. I’d fallen in love with Milan and I wanted so much to return.
I was reflective that night on what would happen next. Ewan always instigated where our relationship went, just as he had this time. I wasn’t certain what this step now meant for us. We were having an affair, but had it become more serious? Did I want that?
The thought of going home made guilt rear its head again. Facing Tom might be difficult after such a big secret.
That night Ewan didn’t make love to me. He merely held me while we slept, and his grip was comfortable but firm. I wanted to think it was a subconscious admission that he didn’t want to let me go.
At the airport we learnt that our flight was delayed by an hour. I was worried but not too much. I wanted to get back to my house, stow my passport in the usual place and empty my hand luggage before Tom returned. I could still do this, because it was likely that Tom’s international flight would take longer to clear than mine.
‘Perhaps we should have foregone the final day and got you home earlier,’ Ewan worried.
‘It’s all right,’ I said. ‘I still have plenty of time.’
Before long we were up in the air. Ewan held my hand all the way home but we didn’t speak much. There wasn’t anything to say. Things had changed for certain between us but expressing it was impossible without creating a further ripple in my life.
As the plane landed, he kissed me firmly on the lips and then we sat and waited while everyone else got off.
‘Tomorrow?’ he said, as I pulled my hand luggage from storage above our seat.
‘Absolutely!’ I said.
We had decided it was best to go our separate ways as soon as we passed through customs at Heathrow. But as we came through passport control, I realized I had messed up my timing. There was an hour difference between Milan time and Greenwich Mean Time: and it meant that Tom’s plane was landing at that moment.
I stopped in the middle of the arrivals lounge as people milled around us, and I felt the colour drain from my face.
‘I can’t get back before he does,’ I said. ‘Stefan will be meeting him, and he always comes straight home to shower and change before heading into the office.’
It was 8 a.m. and I’d definitely hit the rush-hour traffic on the tube, which might delay me even further.
‘Give me your bag,’ Ewan said.
‘Why?’
‘Go and meet him off the plane as a surprise. Then you can both travel home together.’
It was a good suggestion.
Ewan took my bag, and I headed off quickly to Tom’s terminal. I didn’t kiss him or look back. It was what we’d agreed.
Stefan was surprised to see me as I joined him at the arrivals meeting point.
‘Mrs Carlisle! I would have collected you if I’d known.’
‘Don’t worry,’ I said. ‘I decided to surprise my husband. It was a spur of the moment thing. Fortunately, the trains all fell right for me. Thought I wouldn’t make it!’
Tom came through customs a few minutes later.
‘Darling!’ he said, throwing his arms around me. ‘I didn’t expect you to come and meet me … What’s that smell?’
He stepped back and peered at me.
‘What smell?’
‘Like … aftershave …’
‘Oh, I was passing the time looking at perfumes.’ I forced a smile, then I hugged him again to hide the guilty flush that coloured my face.
Stefan took Tom’s luggage and we followed him back to the car park. Adrenaline pumped through my veins. Ewan’s aftershave was clearly all over me, but Tom didn’t question my explanation as he sank back into the limo’s comfortable seats.
‘A shower, then work?’ I said.
‘A shower then bed … I didn’t get any sleep at all on the plane. There was someone in business class who wouldn’t stay in his seat.’
‘Sorry to hear that,’ I said. ‘How did the firing go?’
‘We did everything within the bounds of legality, but it still cost us a hefty settlement. It was worth it to get rid of the problem though.’
Tom closed his eyes and slept on the journey home.
***
Stefan pulled the car into the underground car park, and Tom and I went upstairs in the back lift.
On our floor I saw the apartment caretaker, Harry.
‘Hope the power cut wasn’t too much of an issue this morning, Mrs Carlisle,’ he said.
‘Power cut?’ Tom said. He glanced at me. ‘You didn’t mention a power cut.’
‘I … What time was it, Harry?’
‘Seven.’
‘Oh. I’d already left by then. I wasn’t aware of it,’ I said.
‘Yeah. Just a surge that popped a fuse. I fixed it as soon as it was reported. All back on by eight.’
‘Thanks, Harry,’ I said. ‘Mr Carlisle has been away and he’s tired, so we have to …’
‘Sure thing.’
I keyed in our passcode and Tom and I went inside. Tom went straight into the bathroom and I heard the shower running. I waited by the open front door for Stefan.
Stefan came out of the lift and brought Tom’s bag inside.
‘Just leave them here,’ I said. ‘Thanks. And … Stefan. There’s no need to tell Mr Carlisle that I didn’t come to the airport with you. I don’t want my surprise to be marred by the fact that it was spur of the moment. Do you know what I mean?’
‘Of course, Mrs Carlisle. Does Mr Carlisle want me to wait for him?’
‘I’ll check.’
I left Stefan in our hallway and made my way down the corridor to our bedroom. Tom was drying himself when I entered.
‘Any instructions for Stefan?’ I asked.
‘Tell him I’m taking the day off,’ he said. ‘So he is free now.’
‘Okay.’
When Stefan had gone, I brought Tom’s hand luggage into the bedroom. Tom had climbed into the bed naked and lay with his eyes closed.
I turned to leave but as I started to close the door Tom said, ‘Char? Will you get in with me? I’m so tired but I’ve missed you.’
I stripped down to my pants and camisole and then got into the bed. I was tired anyway and a little rest probably wasn’t a bad thing.
‘Huh,’ Tom said as he spooned me. ‘That perfume is a bit masculine. I don’t think I like the smell of it on you.’
‘Don’t worry. I didn’t buy it.’
Tom was soon snoring, and I lay awake thinking about how much I’d changed in such a short time. I wasn’t the person I used to be, but it still shocked me how easily every new lie fell from my lips. What surprised me more was how Tom, such an intelligent man, could believe anything I told him. Surely he could see right through me?
Chapter Twelve
I woke the next day realizing that I was completely in love with Ewan. Perhaps
it was there as soon as we met but I had refused to acknowledge it. Maybe the few days we’d stolen away had consolidated my emotions. I didn’t know how to react. We had never spoken the words to each other that my husband and I regularly expressed with ease. To say I love you to Ewan would not have been easy – I felt it with all of my heart.
Tom woke early because of jetlag and dived on me like a man who hadn’t had sexual contact for years, not just a few days. I wasn’t into it and found myself faking the orgasm that he expected. Then he crashed back to sleep until the dawn peeked around the edges of our curtains and forced us both to wake.
I made breakfast, all the time I wished Tom would hurry up and go to work, but he loitered around the house, unpacking his hand luggage and suitcase. It was only when he opened the bureau in the living room that I remembered I hadn’t replaced my passport in the usual place there.
‘Tom … will you bring your washing to the machine for me?’ I said hoping to distract him.
He opened the top drawer and dropped his passport in, closing it as he looked over his shoulder at me. When he went back to the bedroom, I pulled my passport from my handbag and quickly added it to the drawer. I was shaking with nerves when he came back into the room.
Tom walked past me, through the kitchen and into the utility room where he dropped his clothing in front of the washer.
‘Thanks. Do you want eggs Benedict?’ I said knowing this was his favourite breakfast.
‘Sure.’
I made the eggs but managed to ruin the hollandaise.
‘What’s up with you today?’ Tom said. ‘You’re all twitchy.’
‘I didn‘t sleep well. What time are you going into work today?’
‘I’m not. Thought we could spend the day together.’
‘Oh.’
‘Don’t you like that?’ Tom asked.
I caught him looking at me instead of what was now poached egg on toasted muffins because I’d given up on the hollandaise.
‘Sorry about the breakfast,’ I said.
I rang Ewan as soon as Tom left the apartment to get a newspaper.
‘What time are you coming over?’ he asked.
‘I can’t make it. Tom has decided he’s staying home today.’
‘That’s unusual … isn’t it?’
‘Yes. Work is the thing he cares about most … He’s back. I have to go.’
I hung up and placed my silenced phone in my bra.
‘Hi. What do you want to do today then?’ I said smiling.
Tom wanted us to go back to bed.
Afterwards we got a taxi and went out to lunch in London.
‘I missed you,’ he said. He had taken me to a champagne and oyster bar. I figured he would be after more sex later on. ‘This has been a lovely day, darling. We should do this more often.’
‘We should,’ I said.
I tried to smile but his intense behaviour was actually making me feel quite uncomfortable. Something was different about him. Something had changed not just for me, but for him. Tom put his arm around my waist and pulled me to him. He kissed my temple.
‘I did a lot of thinking while I was in New York. Don’t you think we should try again?’ he said. ‘Char, you’ve had months to get over the miscarriage.’
And there was the punch line. I took a breath. It was the worst timing. No way did I want a child. Certainly not with Tom.
I avoided answering because Tom’s phone rang and a company crisis took him back into the office after all. I was relieved but hid it well under a show of fake disappointment. I waited with him while Stefan came to the restaurant to collect him.
‘Stefan can drop you home after he takes me to the office,’ Tom said.
‘That’s all right. I have a little shopping to do anyway.’
Tom frowned at me and then said something very odd indeed. ‘If that is what you really want to do, then I can’t stop you.’
He tried to meet my eyes as the limo pulled into the pavement. I blinked and then Tom kissed me on the cheek before he turned to leave.
I watched the car pull away. Then I took my phone out of my pocket and sent Ewan a text.
I’m on my way.
I did experience a pang of guilt, and my heart jolted with the worry that Tom was growing suspicious, but I just couldn’t help myself. I had to see Ewan. I had to be with him.
After collecting my hand luggage from Ewan, I carefully returned my toiletries back to their permanent home. After that, I fell back into my wifely duties.
I didn’t see Ewan again for a few days. An urgent business trip pulled him away. It was the right time for this to happen. I’d been about to tell him that we had to cool off for a while and that Tom might suspect.
With little contact with Ewan, life settled again into routine at home. The fear of Tom finding out receded and I was lulled into what I hoped wasn’t a false sense of security. Even so, I found Tom’s company harder to bear. I knew things had changed and not for the better. There was an undercurrent, a tension, in the room when we were together. Tom was never one to brood, but he was focusing on something. I just knew it.
I had to continue having sex with him too – it was difficult to avoid, though sometimes I managed. And he was always rough, desperate in his attempts to engage me. I had to wash afterwards every time: it was as though I were betraying Ewan, not the other way around.
‘Mother spoke to your doctor today. He told her there was no reason why we couldn’t start trying again now,’ Tom said one evening.
‘My doctor spoke to your mother about me?’ I said. ‘That’s outrageous!’
‘Don’t be silly. Everyone has your best interests at heart.’
‘I doubt that,’ I said.
‘What’s the matter with you?’ Tom said. ‘Don’t be so fractious.’
I sighed, then listened to his argument about why we needed to become parents right away. Why I had to stop taking my contraceptives.
‘I feel like … I’m losing you sometimes,’ Tom said. ‘You’re not yourself right now and it’s all because of the miscarriage, so why not bite the bullet?’
‘I’ll think about it,’ I said to placate him.
‘A new pregnancy will help you get over—’
‘I said I’ll think about it!’ I snapped.
‘I just want us to be happy.’
A shadow seemed to pass over Tom’s face, and he stroked my arm with genuine affection and concern. Then he cuddled up to me on the sofa and kissed my face and hair and rubbed his hand over my back until I couldn’t help but relax against him. For once he was trying to be soothing.
I was on a roller coaster of emotion. When Tom was like this, I questioned my irrational feelings of claustrophobia and loneliness. It was ridiculous that the guilt had made me so paranoid that I had felt afraid of Tom. Tom had never done anything to hurt me. It was me that was at fault. How could I betray someone who had done everything for me?
Maybe it was time to end things with Ewan. Maybe I needed to recapture the relationship Tom and I had once had? Maybe the baby was the way forward.
As Tom hugged me, a new fear reared up out of the blue: the thought of never seeing Ewan again. The thought of returning to my old life was just as bad. But worst of all was the thought of continuing this dual life, full of secrets and guilt and the fear of discovery.
It was no way to live.
Chapter Thirteen
Sometimes the pressure of the situation built up so much inside me that I thought I was going to explode. I don’t have a short fuse, but I was developing one. My patience was running thinner by the day and sometimes the urge to tell Tom the truth almost overcame my desire for secrecy. I believed the secret was the thrill: keeping anything from Tom was satisfying, because it gave me back control of my daily life.
What made it worse was that I had decided never to discuss our relationship with Ewan. It wasn’t appropriate. Deep down I wanted Ewan to think that Tom and I somehow led separate lives, even though this wa
sn’t strictly true. I talked about a lot of things with Ewan, but we both steered clear of this subject and it was hard for me because Ewan was my only real confidant: I told him everything else.
Weeks drifted on again. Sometimes Ewan worked away for more than a week, and even though he asked, there was no way I could find an opportunity to join him again. We’d been lucky the first time, but I knew it was unlikely to ever happen again. But we met whenever we could, and those meetings grew in intensity, so much so that being apart from him was torturous. Being with Tom in-between times became punishment.
Something had to give, but I had no strength to make the break with either man. A text from Ewan arrived one morning after Tom had left for work:
I need to see you. Today!
My mood lifted immediately. He had been away for several days and this was a nice surprise because I hadn’t been expecting him back in London for a few more.
Hammersmith?
No. Come to The Savoy. I’ll explain when you get there. We need to talk.
Is everything okay?
Ewan texted the room number, and I left my apartment soon afterwards and made my way to The Savoy. I was dressed well but not flashy and I wore a hat with my long blonde hair hidden underneath.
I was worried on the way there for more reasons than just being spotted in the wrong place at the wrong time. I wondered if this was it: the final moment when Ewan let me down and ended our relationship forever. The thought of it plunged me into a black hole of depression.
***
When I reached the hotel, I saw one of the board of directors’ wives going inside with another woman. I kept my head down as they walked ahead of me, and I hung back to avoid being observed. I had a hairy moment when she glanced over her shoulder towards me. I turned away, trembling – had I been seen? Then the two women moved on towards a group of ladies gathering outside the restaurant. It was a familiar sight – a charity committee or maybe just wives doing lunch. I hadn’t spent much time in recent months doing any of these things.
I hurried towards the lift before I was seen and entered it, pressing the button for the sixth floor. The doors closed and I was relieved to have made it this far without discovery.
The Stranger in Our Bed: An absolutely gripping psychological thriller that will keep you hooked Page 6
