by L M Allen
“Oh...um...”
“Doesn’t a pregnant woman need to eat?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“But maybe the baby is?” He reaches out a hand, intending to touch my belly, and I grab his wrist.
“Don’t.” He does not get to touch my baby. Even through layers of skin and fat and litres of fluid. Never.
“I...I’m sorry. I overstepped.” And the chef wanders past with a tray of fresh pastries.
“Morning, Eva. I’ve made your favourite,” he says casually.
Great. Thanks. I glance at James, his forehead creased and his lips pressed together. There’s no way I can deny it, so I thank the chef (for the pastries and not his terrible timing) and reluctantly take a seat out on the terrace, overlooking the grounds.
“So...when are you due?” James asks, a little sheepishly.
“Not for a few months.” I catch the attention of a waitress I recognise. “Hey, Charlotte. Can I get an orange juice, please?”
“Of course. And for you, sir.”
“Coffee, please. Any way it comes.” She nods, blushing, and he looks back at me. “Do you not drink coffee?”
“Not at the moment. I can’t without throwing up.”
“Oh! Should I...order something else?”
“No...? Why?”
“Is it the smell, or...the taste?”
“Both.” I shrug. “But I’m fine. We’re outside.”
We visit two more venues, stopping to eat or drink at each one. “You look tired,” James says in a soft voice over dinner, and this time he overtly touches my hand. My muscles tense, in an effort not to pull away.
“I am. It’s...been a long few weeks.”
“I’ll take you home after this.” He squeezes my hand briefly before he continues eating. “So, tomorrow, we can see a few more venues?”
“Sure.” I stifle a yawn, and he tilts his head. Assessing. What? I don’t know.
“I’m looking forward to it already.”
***
“What’s your postcode?” James asks, as we pull out of the car park at the back of the huge Victorian townhouse, which is now an exclusive party venue and the last we’ll see today.
“I’m...not going home.”
“Oh?” James hits the brakes and looks over at me.
“I’m...staying at a hotel for a few nights. You can just drop me off back at the coffee shop.”
“Which hotel?”
Shit! “Err...I didn’t catch the name...I was in kind of a hurry. It’s on Oxford Street.”
“Why were you in such a hurry, Eva?” His voice has turned soft and low; he’s trying to lull me. I know it. Should I let him think it’s working? Probably.
“Sid...is at my house.”
“So, it wasn’t nothing.” I shake my head but keep my mouth shut. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“Try me. I might surprise you.”
“We had a fight. That’s all.”
“About what?” Keep going! You can do it.
“Um...well...” I clear my throat and almost whisper, “You.”
“Me?” He chuckles. “Why were you fighting about me?”
“He’s...Oh, it doesn’t matter. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. I don’t want to embarrass you.”
“I’m not embarrassed, Eva. I’m flattered.” He takes my hand, and I have to let him. I have to! But I can’t. Not for long. I pull it back and rest it on my lap. “But...maybe you are?”
“Can we just go, please?”
“Eva...” Oh, fuck! No!
“Yes?” I squeak.
“I like you too.” Vomit makes its way up my throat, and I look away. “I understand why you’d be reluctant. It sounds like you’ve had a pretty tough time. I just wanted you to know.”
I let out my huge breath when the car starts moving again.
I’m confused when James pulls over on Oxford Street. I peek across at him. “Do you want me to walk you to your hotel?”
Oh! Yes. That. “No. No, I’m good. You’ll get a parking ticket.” I muster a little smile and get out of the car. He doesn’t pull off when I clunk the door and wave. So...fuck! Closest hotel? Shit! Shit, shit, shit. I didn’t think that one through, did I?
I walk along, racking my stupid brain. Ah! The Radisson Blu! Yes! I move a little bit faster, now that I have an actual destination, past the shops and eateries, and breathe a sigh of relief when I make it to the reception desk. I can’t risk leaving. Not now. So, I take yet another hotel room (at yet another hotel) and make my way wearily to my room.
I fall into the huge bed, still fully clothed. And wired up, as Sid calls it when I still have the transmitter on, and then realise I have no clean clothes or even a toothbrush. So, I force my heavy, exhausted body into action and I strip off. I put on a hotel robe, before I leave everything I was wearing today out for laundry, and then call down to reception for a toothbrush and toothpaste, which is delivered to my door on an actual silver bloody platter.
When I wake in the morning, my baby is doing summersaults inside me. My hands move to my belly, and I can feel it under my palms now too. “Morning, beautiful,” I whisper, a real smile on my face.
I lie still, enjoying her acrobatics, until she demands food and my stomach rumbles. I push myself up on my hands and look around the room. Another hotel room. Another day of...this.
I reach for the room service menu and pick up the phone by my bed. I order myself a full English, and then get in the shower while I wait.
When there’s a knock, fifteen minutes later, I tie the belt of my robe tighter and let in room service, who also has my laundry.
“Thank you.” I smile and take the bag, following the delicious waft of bacon as the man pushes the cart inside.
When I emerge in the foyer, James is waiting, his hands in his pockets and an apologetic smile on his face.
“I thought I’d pick you up.” He looks almost embarrassed. And I’m bloody glad I stayed here last night.
“Um...thank you.”
“Shall we go?” He offers me his elbow, and I steel myself for the role I have to play today. Interested. Available. Single. None of the things I actually am, or want to be.
Chapter 24
It’s been four days. Today is Friday, the fifth day in a row that James and I are scheduled to spend together. I dash to the door of my hotel room, pulling my towel tighter when there’s a knock, earlier than usual. I peek through the spyhole, expecting my laundry and getting James. Oh!
I grab my phone, set the camera to record and leave it on the side, hidden behind the tissues, then run back to the door. I pull it open, rubbing my hair with a towel as though I just got out of the shower.
“Oh! Hi.”
“Good morning.” He swallows hard, his eyes following a drop of water as it disappears under my towel, where my ring is (thankfully) concealed.
“I...was hoping we could have breakfast together before...” He trails away. And swallows again. “Eva...”
He steps inside and closes the door behind him, and I’ve never wanted to run more. “You...look...” His throat is working compulsively. His breathing heavier.
“It’s a towel.” I try to laugh and squeak instead. His eyes snag mine, and he steps in closer and slowly raises one finger. He sweeps it lightly down my arm, through the smattering of water droplets. He inhales sharply, and I’m praying this will be over fast.
I can do this. I can do this.
“Eva...you must know...” He moves closer. And I watch, frozen, as he leans in. “I...”
I can’t do this! I’m going to throw up. I jerk my head back and put my palm flat on his chest as I push him away. “I’m sorry. I can’t.” I shake my head, dropping my eyes and lowering my chin.
“I can wait,” he says softly. I nod. You’ll be waiting forever. “I’d better go downstairs.”
As soon as he’s gone, I watch the footage and send it to Davey with a note.
 
; Please, God, let that be enough?
***
When we’ve been driving for a few minutes, James asks me, “Do you like your job, Eva?”
“Sure.” I shrug. “I’m never stuck for a party to attend.”
He smiles and asks, “Have you always been in events.”
“Um...no. Not always. What do you do?” I ask, forcing myself back to here and now. This conversation, and not the one I keep replaying in my head with Will.
“I’m a private investigator.” I frown.
“You mean...like Sherlock?” He laughs, a proper, head-thrown-back laugh.
“Kind of. But not criminal investigations, usually.”
“So...what kind of investigations?”
“Civilian stuff. Tracking people down, extramarital affairs, fraud, that kind of thing.” I nod, my eyes on my boots. “Why does that upset you?” he asks, his voice soft.
“It doesn’t.”
“Was your husband unfaithful, Eva?” I look away, out the window. “I’ll take that as a yes.” I draw a deep breath, my shoulders rising and falling in shuddering movements. He only did it because he thought I was being unfaithful. “Not all men are...”
“Pigs, who think with their cocks?” I bite. “Sorry.”
“You have had a bad experience, haven’t you? I’m sorry...Look, I think it would be really helpful for you to talk it all through with someone impartial. Cathartic even.”
“Someone like you, you mean?”
“If you’d like to.”
“No, thanks.”
“Can I ask why not?”
“I told you. I’m not much of a talker.”
“Shall I tell you what I think?” He continues without waiting for a response. “I think you’re scared of your own feelings. I think you’re tired of being strong now. I think you’d like someone to hold you for a while, and make you feel better.”
“Do you?”
“Tell me I’m wrong.”
“There’s nothing that will make me feel better. I just need to get on with it and accept that.”
“I disagree. Let me show you. Please.” I glance at him out of the corner of my eye.
“What the hell does that mean?”
“We’ll take things at your own pace, Eva, but please, let me try.”
James is charming, polite and attentive. I can see how it works. For someone who was even half-interested, or unimportant and irrelevant to their spouse. I can see why someone might fall for it.
I find myself smiling along and joining in his light teasing, almost without realising it. It’s actually nice to be someone else for the day. Someone whose life isn’t a chaotic hellhole. Someone who isn’t quite such an arsehole as I am.
So, when he asks, “What’s his name. Your ex-husband?” I answer him.
“Will. Will Hunter.”
“Not Adams?”
“No. That’s my maiden name.”
“Ahh. And what does he do?”
“He owns a hotel.” His face fills with sympathy, and his mouth pulls to the side.
“I can almost see how it happened. A drunk guest. A hotel full of bedrooms. Probably more than once.” I look away fast, and he lowers his voice. “He’s a fool. He had you, and he lost you.”
“He won’t ever lose me. I lost him. There’s a huge difference.” He gasps.
“You...you can’t mean...? You don’t still...love him?”
“I’ll always love him. I meant it when I said ‘till death do us part. Even if he didn’t.”
“Oh...Eva.”
“Don’t. I know what an idiot I am. If I could have a lobotomy, I would. But like I said, there’s nothing that can make me feel better. I just have to crack on and...”
“You’ll have love again.”
“I don’t want to love anyone else.” My voice is barely audible. Everything I said to James was true. Sid was right. I’m a terrible liar. But this is too close to the bone. I clear my throat and change the subject. “So, have we seen enough venues to choose? Did one stand out for you?”
“There is one more I’d like to see. I’ve heard about it but never been.” I glance at my phone when it buzzes. The thumbs up emoji from Davey. That’s it! It’s done. He has what he needed. Thank! God! I can stop. I can stop pretending.
“Sure, okay.”
“Tell me something,” James says after a few minutes, chewing his lips and throwing furtive glances my way. “How does a woman fall in love with a man like that?”
“A man like what?”
“A liar. A cheat. A womaniser.” Will is none of those things. Not anymore.
“It wasn’t a choice.”
“So...? You’re telling me it was like a bolt from the blue, and you got struck by Cupid’s arrow?”
“Something like that.” I laugh a little. “I tried so hard not to love him. Not to fall for him. But it was like I had no control. He was in my head. In my heart.”
“In your bed,” he spits, and I look at him sharply.
“Yes. In my bed too.”
“I thought you had more class than that.”
“You don’t know me, James. And you don’t know my...Will. He’ll always be the love of my life. With or without him in it.”
“Even though he fucked some other woman and got her pregnant?”
“I...didn’t say...”
“Oh, it was obvious! I worked it out as soon as you told me his name. Her husband hired me when he suspected she was screwing around. I know exactly who Will Hunter is.”
“He’s still screwing her. Did you know that?” I flinch, and he looks over at me, shrinking away from his words. “He fucks her bow-legged every single night, while you sit at home feeling sorry for yourself. And I can prove it.”
“No,” I whisper.
“Yes,” he hisses. “So, any silly little ideas you had of a happy reunion won’t ever happen, Eva. What you need is a little revenge sex. In his hotel.” As he says it, I realise where we’re going next, and exactly which venue he wants to see.
“I’ll be gentle, baby. Or not. You choose.”
“No.”
“You’ll see. I’ll prove it to you. And then you’ll probably fuck me in front of him.”
Escape is looming on the horizon, framed by the windshield and just visible through the rows of beech trees. My stomach is churning. When the car pulls to a stop, I’m frozen. Unable to run. Unable to move. “I’ll prove it to you. In his office, right now. We’ll make him watch it too. And then we’ll make him watch as I bend his pregnant wife over his desk,” he snarls.
When I enter the foyer a few minutes later, James holding onto my arm, Will is at the coffee bar, talking to Stefan. Stefan’s mouth drops wide open, and Will spins around. His eyes sweep over me, head to foot, and then back up to our baby, before they land on James. I see the light of recognition. Will knows who he is?
Will starts moving towards us, and James jerks his head, indicating the corridor that leads to Will’s office. So, he has been here before? He must have been to know where it is.
James marches me right into Will’s office and rounds his desk to his computer. He pulls out a thumb drive as Will stands beside me. I’m acutely aware of Will, in this small space. I can feel him, but we’re both looking at James. “Now. Watch. And then tell me you still love him. This was two nights ago.” He flicks a glare at Will and swings the screen around.
The date is in the top right-hand corner, confirming that this is footage from just two nights ago, exactly as he said. And then Will enters the shot, coming out of the gym showers, wiping his face with a towel, another wrapped around his waist.
He looks around like he heard something, maybe someone call his name, and he smiles. Before he pins a woman to the wall, his hand creeping between her legs. “No! No, turn it off,” I plead. James only smiles and sits down to enjoy the show, his hands laced behind his head.
“Oooh, good technique, Will. How fast did she come?”
I watch, frozen in horror
with my stomach in knots. He moves over to a bench and sits her astride him, on his lap, and kisses her neck as he positions her. She leans back, her hands on his thighs, her mouth hanging open in pleasure as he bucks into her. “Please stop,” I beg.
“Just a few more minutes, Eva. It’s nearly over. This time was just a quickie.”
My eyes are glued to him, the Will on the screen, before I finally see it—what I’m looking for—and break down so completely the video is paused. I can imagine the triumphant look on this conman’s face. I hear him stand and he walks over to me. James speaks softly, close to my ear. “Now tell me again, Eva, how much you love him. This man. The man who will fuck any woman who appears willing.”
“Eva,” Will’s voice is tight and thick. “Sweetheart, I know how this looks. I know...but you have to believe me, baby. That’s not me. I swear to God, I have never slept with another woman since meeting you.”
I take a shuddering breath and raise my eyes to Will’s, so wide, so filled with pain and torment. I take a shaky step towards him. His face screws up, like he’s expecting me to hit him. I lean in to his ear and whisper, “I know.” He gasps, his wild eyes searching mine. I place my shaky hand over his racing heart, my fingers flexing and caressing. “I know.” Will gets it too. He inhales sharply, his lip trembling like he doesn’t dare believe it.
“Baby.” He hauls me to him. I can feel his relief.
“I’m so sorry, Will. I’m so...” He seals his mouth on mine, his hands in my hair, until James yells.
“Do you have that little self-respect, Eva!” Will’s eyes stay on mine, his hand on the back of my head.
“Tell him how you know, baby.”
I lean in and kiss his lips lightly. And my fingers move to the top button of his shirt. Will’s eyebrow lifts, and a slow smile materialises as I open each button in turn. “Or show him.” He smirks.
“What the fu—”
“You missed a detail. A very important detail. A permanent feature.” I kiss the turquoise ink on Will’s skin, before I step aside and let James see the smoking gun. “The real Will Hunter? He has my name tattooed across his heart. Has had it there for a while. So, this guy? Who’s just gotten out of a shower? Two nights ago? He doesn’t. So how does he have Will’s face?”