Back in her apartment she went to Alex’s study once again, back to the Low Stock folder. There were two further folders she hadn’t opened. Methodically she clicked on the first. She saw a picture of Mo Li, one of her designers at Cross. In the office she was well dressed and as shy as anything. Here her legs were spread. Did Alex know this was one of her team? Did Mo Li know Alex was her husband? Of course they had both known. They had met in Lang Kwai Fong when she was there. Mo Li had run off at the time and in her ignorance she had put it down to shyness. She never expected this. Without thinking she deleted the picture. They must have laughed at her stupidity together. No wonder when they were made redundant Mo Li had treated her with such disdain. She probably knew that Alex owned Cross; that’s probably how he got her into bed. Mo Li had thought Celeste knew about the redundancies. Yet she knew nothing – not as a manager, certainly not as a wife.
Folder eight contained a sub folder called Asian Escorts. She opened it. The shimmering red logo looked back at her from the screen. It was familiar. She knew where she had seen it before. It was when they had first visited Hong Kong. Right before Alex had proposed. Alex had brushed away her concerns saying that it was common practice when doing business in the East for directors to hand out such cards to single men. He said that people would think of him differently after he was married, they would stop encouraging him to visit strip bars. Had there been any truth in what he had said back then, or was he cheating on her even before they were married?
Celeste felt as if she were having an out of body experience. She could see her pregnant self snooping through her husband’s folder of trophy fucks, slowly realizing he loved paying for sex more than he loved her. Humiliation caused her hands to shake as she glanced at pictures of women, younger and more exotic than she was – women with flawless tanned skin and size zero hips.
She closed her eyes and let her tears stain her cheeks. Graham knew. She could see that now. That’s why Alex put him down at every opportunity. That’s why they stopped socializing with him and Sarah, and the reason for fabricating the illness Sarah was supposed to have. Alex was purposefully putting distance between them. She swiped at the Buddha and it fell to the floor. Then she ran to the bathroom with her hand over her mouth, and returned to his office after she had thrown up. She picked up the Buddha with its permanently happy grin and thought about smashing his computer with it. Better than that, she could corrupt his files – moving items from one folder to another. Alex would hate it and she would get some small satisfaction from it. But before she did that she needed evidence of what she had seen – just in case. She started opening Alex’s drawers one by one, then she stood up and looked in the filing cabinet, rummaging through his perfectly lined files for a memory stick.
Nothing. She looked out of the office window. It was dark, and the tail end of the typhoon meant that it was still raining outside. She could go out and try and find a stationers’ close by to buy one. She looked at her watch. If she went out now she wouldn’t have time to look in the last folder before Alex returned. He said he was going to get back today and due to take the last flight out of Shanghai. So wherever he was he would be on his way back. She weighed up her options. If there had been a Bear folder, then there had to be a Bull folder. A gut feeling told her that the contents of this folder would be the beginning of the end for her. She started looking for it. Then she went back to the folder titled Ultimate Stock.
59
6th August 2012
Mid-Levels, Central and Western District, Hong Kong
Just before she clicked on the file for Ultimate Stock she heard the soft click of the office door. Immediately, she turned around. It was Kealana.
‘You knew,’ she said, her eyes red and puffy, tears staining her cheeks. She would never have dreamt of exposing her raw emotion to this woman before – a woman whom she disliked, but now she no longer cared. She lifted the sleeve of her jumper to her eyes and wiped them.
Kealana entered the room, sat down on a white leather chair and took Celeste’s trembling hands in hers. ‘I’m so sorry.’
Seeing Kealana, the look of pity on her face, made Celeste wonder if her initial concerns were in fact correct. If Kealana hated her, had she set this up to drive her away? Celeste pulled her hands away.
‘They are like this,’ Kealana said, so softly Celeste almost didn’t hear. ‘I’ve been with the family for years.’
Celeste held her head up. ‘Alex hates this behaviour. His mother… He saw what Warwick did to his mother. How much it hurt her.’
‘I’ve organized parties where waitresses have served cocktails and canapés to the mistresses of the Renshaw men. I sent for their…’ Kealana trailed off.
‘What? You sent for what?’
‘I’m sorry. You’re a good woman.’
‘Tell me what you sent for?’
Kealana shook her head. ‘I sent for their cocaine.’
Celeste sat back. She was expecting Kealana to say prostitutes. Alex would never use cocaine. Not once in her life had she seen him smoke marijuana or take any kind of illegal high. How many late night parties had they attended together? She had always been with him and she had never noticed anything like that. He loved whiskey, and brandy nightcaps. He never needed anything else. Now she knew that Kealana had engineered this whole episode.
But then Celeste remembered, whilst she suffered the next day with a raging hangover, Alex had always been up, bright, breezy and ready to start the day. The day they had been to see Bill’s new boat had been a prime example. Cocaine would explain why Alex was so alert all the time, regardless of what time he went to bed or how much he had drank the night before. Still, she would have known if her husband was on hard drugs. She narrowed her eyes at Kealana. ‘Why are you lying?’
Kealana stood up and went to the cupboard. She put her hand deep in its recesses and pulled out a small, black, plastic bag. Then she emptied the contents on to the desk. There were three small plastic bags containing white powder. Kealana carefully put them back where she had found them and sat back in her chair.
‘Why are you telling me this? Why did you give me the password?’
‘I knew the first time I met you that you were innocent. You didn’t like me popping in with flowers. I knew that. You thought I was checking up on you. You thought I was trying to, how do I say this? Squeeze you out. But my intentions have always been good. I wanted to protect you. You have no family here and you remind me a great deal of my second daughter.’ Kealana tilted her head and looked at Celeste. ‘At first I tried to turn a blind eye and forget about what Mr Alex was doing. Should have been easy. I’ve been doing it for years. But my daughter, she is the same age as you. You both married in the same year and you are both similar the way your hair is cropped short and black. You both like fashion also.’ Kealana smiled. ‘Like my daughter, your eyes sparkle when you are happy. Day by day I saw the sparkle disappear from your eyes. Same like my daughter. My daughter, I cannot help. I don’t even have keys to her house anymore. But you, you I could try to save, especially now you are having a baby. I thought you had the right to know – even if you choose to do nothing. At least you will know the truth.’
Celeste thought back to when she first met Kealana. How the woman had taken over running their home. She had hated her habits of placing flowers on the table, making sure the entrances were always so clean and soulless like a hotel. Now, she wondered if it was all Kealana, or if was it an instruction from Alex and Warwick in case they stopped by at one of their many properties with another woman? She had seen too much for this to be a set up by Kealana. The Asian Escorts card, Rachel Blake and Mo Li: at some point she had witnessed a part of each of these lies. Kealana wasn’t making it up. She had to believe her. Now a sliver of guilt pricked her conscious. She had always ignored Kealana, even accusing her of trying to poison her. She never even knew that Kealana had a daughter the same age as her, and all the while this woman had been looking out for her.
‘Alex took away my job,’ Celeste said, remembering afresh that Alex was the true owner of Cross. ‘I have no way of surviving on my own. I’m carrying his child.’ She turned and grabbed hold of Kealana’s hand. ‘What do I do?’ Her eyes scanned Kealana’s face for an answer.
‘Maybe, for now, you do nothing. It will not be good for your health or that of the baby.’
‘You show me all this and then expect me to do nothing?’
‘I’m saying think about what you want to do before making a quick decision. Mr Alex’s mother always knew what Warwick was up to, but she didn’t say anything. It’s hard to leave when you are accustomed to this lifestyle. The Renshaws provide well.’
Celeste thought back to her days on East Row. All her life she had wanted to escape from living hand to mouth, but for this? At least everything she had then was true. Now her life was based on lies. ‘You said you wanted to save me. Now you tell me not to do anything.’
‘I’m telling you to make a plan for yourself to get out. Don’t act irrationally.’
‘I’m not Alex’s mother. I won’t let him get away with this.’
‘You’ve no family here. You don’t even have many friends. You can’t go back into the world on your own. You have to find some strength first. Then leave.’
It was true. She had no friends, not anymore. Her job was a thing of the past and she had a baby growing inside of her that she had to provide for. She wanted to be back in England – back within the security of the four walls in which she had grown up.
Kealana looked around the room and Celeste followed her eyes. Her lifestyle now was a far cry from East Row. Celeste stood up and clasped her hands together. Her mind was clouded with confusion. Then she turned, shaking her head, staring at Kealana. ‘There must be a mistake. You’re in it with him, aren’t you? You set this up for me to find. That’s why you gave me the password. You want me out.’
Kealana was silent.
‘I’m going to tell Alex about this.’ She picked up her phone from the desk. Her hands trembled as she dialled. She got his voicemail. ‘Call me back, now,’ she cried into the device before she disconnected.
‘Think about this.’
‘There is nothing to think about.’
‘Your husband is very influential in Hong Kong and the Renshaws have money. Money equals power and Hong Kong can be lawless at times.’
Celeste folded her arms. ‘Get out,’ she commanded.
Kealana stood up and took the orange post-it note from the desk. Then she bowed her head before leaving the room, closing the door behind her.
Celeste sat back down in front of the computer and double clicked on the folder titled Ultimate Stock.
60
6th August 2012
Mid-Levels, Central and Western District, Hong Kong
‘It has to be all right,’ Celeste reassured herself as the first document opened. It was titled Preferred Stock. Another trading term that she saw through. She glanced at the spread-sheet containing a list of dates. It looked like an itinerary for travel spanning at least a year.
The first destination she spotted at the end of last year was Vienna. She had always wanted to go to Austria but she and Alex never seemed to find the time to make the trip. Plus, Alex had rightly said that it was a long way from Hong Kong for a city break. Last year had been busy – it was the year the boat had arrived at Aberdeen Marina; the year Alex had been flying to Shanghai frequently and she had taken to drinking champagne in excess to combat her loneliness, but she didn’t remembered Alex saying he had been to Vienna.
But she did remember that at around that time he had given her a box of those little marzipan balls covered in chocolate that she loved. She couldn’t remember what he had said at the time. Had a client given them to him? Did he find them in one of the international supermarkets? Or was it just guilt that made him pick them up – a last minute duty-free purchase?
She bit the inside of her cheek accepting that Vienna must have been a trip with one of his many whores. Perhaps he had been with Rachel. Didn’t his slut look at his passport and twig that his name was not William? She could picture the scene now. ‘Alex is my middle name,’ he would have said smiling with those irresistible blue eyes – eyes which could easily make you forget your own name.
Why Vienna? Surely London was easier. Alex had never shown an interest in visiting these European cities brimming with culture. He only ever favoured London, Hong Kong and Paris – and then of course they had Thailand. But even on their last trip out there he complained about the weather and poor mobile reception. She wasn’t going to get an answer from the spread-sheet. She looked at the rest of the itinerary. Scotland and Miami stood out in between several trips to Paris and London. There was no mention of Shanghai and there was no Thailand either, but Scotland featured several times on the list since March this year.
The dates didn’t make sense if he was taking a lover away. They were for such short periods of time. Thinking that Preferred Stock was just a money-making scam like the dawn raid on Cross made her feel slightly better. Anything would be better than thinking of Alex flying of with one of his Low Stock women. But whom was she trying to kid? Alex was impatient. He never liked staying somewhere too long. He hadn’t been like that when they had been travelling but over the years he had changed. Even five nights in Thailand in February had been a struggle for him.
She noticed the last entry on the travel plan. It was for last week. It had the early hours of tomorrow morning as a return date and time. So the delay he had spoken of a couple of days ago had been planned. Of course he had planned it. This was Alex, he planned everything. But his itinerary didn’t say ‘Shanghai’ – where Alex had purported to be and Graham had insisted he wasn’t. It said ‘Scotland’ – the same place his mobile phone tracker application had always placed him. She had been stupid enough to think the application was not working. Alex had nothing in Scotland. She had nothing in Scotland. Just…No. It couldn’t be.
She pursed her lips and closed the document and saw the folder she wanted. The folder titled Bull. So this was Alex’s prize possession. Renshaw, you Bull or Bear? Bill had asked so many times. That day on the Premier Cru Alex had said he was definitely Bull. She felt sick. If Rachel was Bear, someone he had provided with a flat in London and took away with him, who the hell was Bull? She rubbed her temples. The boat had arrived in September last year, which meant the person in this folder had been seeing Alex since then, since before Thailand, before she was pregnant.
When the folder opened she saw at least fifty icons appear – folders, jpegs and word documents. With dread she clicked on the first photo and then instantly she knew.
*
Alex was in love with Bonnie. Two hours later Celeste knew the entire history of their affair. With Bonnie Alex wasn’t William Harris, not Bill, not any other name. Of course he couldn’t be. Bonnie knew who he was. After all, she had watched her marry the man. From delving into Alex’s conveniently labelled emails and various sub folders, Celeste gathered that Bonnie and Alex had met again last year, by chance, through a friend, in London. They had an instant chemistry and spent the first hour talking about their common ground, which was of course, Celeste. They spent the second hour screwing each other in a hotel room in Mayfair. Of course Alex couldn’t have used his Mayfair apartment, Celeste thought, he still had poor Rachel stationed there at the time.
She read the details of their sordid affair. She knew that Alex liked the way Bonnie put her makeup on before the rest of her clothes whilst she sat in front of her dresser stark naked. Bonnie on the other had ‘absolutely loved’ the way he let the stubble on his face grow out when they were together. Alex liked Bonnie in French knickers. Bonnie preferred it when Alex didn’t wear any underwear at all. It was all there in black and white – streams of emails and conversations for Celeste to pore over. As with Alex’s conversations with Rachel, after their initial common ground had been established, Celeste’s name wasn’t mentioned. It wa
s as if she never existed. There were no ‘How’s your wife?’ or, ‘When are you going to leave her?’ pleas from Bonnie. There were no, ‘My wife’s a bitch,’ comments from Alex. Was her existence that insignificant that they failed to even mention it?
Document after document told her that Alex was in love with Bonnie. Unlike Rachel, who had done all the chasing for a man whose real name she didn’t even know, Bonnie was the one who had been pursued by Alex. ‘Don’t be crazy, Alex,’ she had written, when he offered to fly down to see her, just for dinner. ‘I wouldn’t let you come here just for dinner. It’s a waste. I have work to get on with.’
‘I must see you,’ he protested. But Bonnie was firm and Celeste knew she had practice in dating other married men. Alicia had told her about this second married lover. Celeste never for one moment thought it was her own husband.
Alex had been the one to encourage her to cut Bonnie out of her life. Had he fancied her friend then? She remembered the way he had looked at Bonnie when he had first met her. She had been stupid enough to think nothing of it – all men looked at Bonnie that way. But she remembered it now and it made his betrayal hurt all the more. She had tried reaching out to Bonnie when she was in London, but Bonnie had given her the cold shoulder. She thought she had deserved it, but now she could see Bonnie was afraid – afraid she would find out about the affair and her romance would come to an end.
With each new file Celeste opened she felt like she was doing another round in a boxing ring. By the time she closed the last document she felt battered and bruised. She touched her belly. Her eyes were dry. She couldn’t cry anymore. She switched off the computer and gazed out of the window watching the smoggy Hong Kong skyline disappearing into darkness.
Poison in the Water Page 23
