He hung up. Ha bloody ha. He’d kill her when he saw her.
Tyler had tried Kirsten again too. And Melissa. None of them was answering her phone. Was there no one who would come to his aid when he needed them? He was so frustrated that he felt like hurling his iPhone into the remains of the flames.
Crossing to the windows, he looked out over the gardens in front of Wadestone Manor to where the snow was thickening now. There was a trail of revellers heading home, making their way towards the coaches that the company had laid on for them. It looked like the Christmas party was coming to a close and, if you asked him, it wasn’t before time. This had quite probably been the longest night of his life.
Some of the staff were dancing across the snow, bunches of helium balloons collected from the marquee streaming from their hands. There was some raucous singing. Show some people a free bar and they turn into animals. Typical Christmas party. If it wasn’t nailed down it would be nicked. And Wadestone Manor would be sending Fossil Oil a bill for a couple of grand for damages. It happened every year.
Tyler glowered at them. He’d noted their faces when he was being treated to a near-death experience at the hands of The Magnificent Marvo. There were some who were definitely grinning with glee. Well, come the new year, he’d make sure they were smiling on the other side of their faces. He’d chop them in half with his own brand of metaphorical chainsaw. Watch this space. There was absolutely no point being in a position of power if you couldn’t abuse it every now and again.
He went back to the library door and tried it again. Definitely locked. Louise must have swiped the key and locked it from the outside. Damn that wretched woman. Tyler rattled the doorknob and banged on the solid, unyielding wood with his fist. Nothing.
Putting down the cushion, he tried to find the number for the hotel on Google but, of course, there was never a reliable mobile phone signal when you needed one. The spinning bar went round and round and round, but never connected him to the useful practicality of the world-wide web. Why had these places never heard of free Wi-Fi? All he could do was wait.
Then an alarm started up. A terrible, ear-piercing sound. He shot to the window again to see that the departing staff had turned round to stare back at the manor house. Some of them were pointing. All of them were agog. Tyler ducked behind the heavy brocade curtains in case one of them should see him in his current predicament.
Now there was a rush of people joining the leavers. They flooded out of the house and down the steps, and were herded by liveried staff from the manor on to the large expanse of lawn at the front.
Was this a fire alarm? What else could it be?
Someone had probably set it off as a prank. Hardly original. It had happened many times before.
Yet the look on the faces of the staff wasn’t one of irritated boredom at having their party interrupted. They seemed genuinely worried. Could it be a real fire?
There was the sound of sirens and, seconds later, he saw two fire engines come screaming up the drive to the house and pull up by the steps to the entrance. The staff were all agog now. Karen from Customer Accounts was front-row, of course. Where else would that busybody be? He scanned the assembled audience to see if he could spot Louise, Kirsten or Melissa. But there was no sign of any of them. Damn them all to hell.
Two more fire engines swiftly followed. This couldn’t be good news. The whole place could be ablaze. The amount of ancient, dried-out junk in this house would make it go up like a tinderbox. Tyler looked round, terrified. What if no one realised he was locked in here? Being nearly cut in half by a magician could soon pale into insignificance. He could be roasted alive in here and who would even realise? Panic set in and he ran to the door.
‘Help me!’ he shouted. ‘Help me! I’m locked in!’
But the library was down a side corridor and it would, he realised, be impossible for anyone to hear him.
Back at the window he watched the firefighters as they spilled out of the fire engines and raced indoors.
‘Oh, good God,’ Tyler breathed. This could be really serious.
He tried to open one of the huge sash windows, but it was locked shut. Banging on the panes with the flat of his hands, he cried out again: ‘Help! Help me! I’m trapped!’
Now he didn’t care if they saw him naked, all pride was gone. He just wanted out of here. And fast. He was sure there was a faint smell of smoke drifting into the library, and he could imagine the blaze really taking hold, flames licking at his heels. A cold band of dread bound his lungs, making it hard to breathe. He hoped it was only that and not the start of the effects of smoke inhalation.
Outside, someone had purloined a case of beer and some bottles of wine. Happily they passed them round as if they were at a picnic. The staff had been moved back from the house and yet they’d pulled up the nearby benches, settling down to watch the show. All while he could be frying.
Yet another fire engine arrived and more firefighters rushed inside. This was serious. This was mega-bad. It had to be.
Tyler moved along the row of windows, trying all of them as he went. On each one he had a futile hammer with his fists and indulged in a bout of increasingly frantic shouting. His voice was becoming hoarse.
Now there really was a smell of acrid smoke, and – oh, no – was that a wisp of smoke under the door?
He ran back to get a better look.
It was. A delicate grey curl. As if someone was having a cigarette lying on the floor next to the door. But it was smoke nonetheless.
Tyler flew to the last window and heaved at it. To his blessed relief, it slid open. Reluctantly at first, after years of being untroubled with any kind of movement, but soon there was enough space for him to stick his head out. He forced the window further open with his shoulders and pushed himself as far out of the window as he could manage.
The cold air and falling snow slapped him in the face and chest. There was an orange glow to the pervading whiteness which was more than alarming.
‘Help!’ he cried, sounding more desperate than he would have liked. He waved his arms frantically. ‘Help!’
Someone had to see him now!
Sure enough, all the heads swivelled in his direction. Some of them stopped with beer bottles poised at their lips. A few of them shielded their eyes as if against the sun.
Then, when their gaze finally fell on him, as one, all the staff burst out laughing.
Chapter Thirty-seven
‘We’re here,’ Kirsten said, pointing at her house. ‘The one with the black door.’
It had taken them a little over an hour to get back to Hampstead. Despite the increasing snowfall, it hadn’t yet settled on the main roads and as they got past Watford and nearer to London it had petered out altogether.
They’d talked about little on the way home. She’d mostly kept her eyes closed, resting back against the seat, revelling in the warmth, listening to the music and letting her mind rove over the fact that she’d finally left Tyler. There was also a certain amount of marvelling that she was here with Simon once more. His solid strength next to her was comforting. He kept his hand on hers and neither of them seemed to mind the silence.
At this time of night, when everyone else was tucked up in bed, all the cars were lined up neatly in the street. ‘Parking is always tricky,’ she said, trying to keep the conversation at the level of the banal, uncertain of what might come next.
Simon drew in to the kerb as near to the house as he could. ‘Nice.’
It was nice. This tall Georgian townhouse in a leafy side street had been home to her and Tyler since their return to England. She’d thought they’d stay here until Fossil Oil decreed otherwise. Now it seemed to be her choice to be leaving.
‘It’s like your house, I expect: all chosen and paid for courtesy of Fossil Oil.’
‘A perk of the job.’
‘Or a golden handcuff.’
‘Now what?’ he asked softly. ‘I don’t want the night to end here. Now that I’ve found
you, I can’t bear to let you out of my sight again.’
She gazed at Simon. Even the air between them was charged. ‘Then you’d better come in.’
He brushed his lips against hers. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes,’ she said, her voice husky. ‘I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.’
Together they climbed out of the car and walked hand-in-hand back towards the house.
‘What about Tyler?’ Simon ventured as they reached the door.
‘I don’t think he’ll be chasing after me, if that’s what you’re worried about. He’ll be burning up the dance floor at the Christmas party for hours yet. He probably doesn’t even realise I’ve left.’
‘I don’t want to cause trouble.’
She laughed, and her breath created a little cloud in the cold. ‘I thought that was exactly what you came back to do.’
‘Ah, yes,’ he conceded with a grin. ‘Maybe you’re right.’
She let them both into the house. It was cold now that the heating had gone off and she flicked on the controls just inside the door.
This had been one of the better houses Fossil Oil had provided for them. The position was enviable. The garden was big but they had a gardener come in for a day every week to look after it. Their own furniture was still in storage somewhere as this one came fully furnished. It was done so tastefully that Kirsten hadn’t fought to change it as she had so often had to. Or perhaps the fight had simply gone out of her.
She went through to the kitchen, switching on lights as she did. Simon followed. Her skin tingled just because he was near.
The kitchen was one of the best spaces in the place. A few steps took you down from the end of the hall and then it opened out into a room that held every state-of-the-art appliance you could think of. There was a large range cooker fit for a hotel, a complicated coffee maker, a breakfast bar with a handful of tall stools around it, and full-length folding doors that looked out on to the garden.
If only she’d been a decent cook, then she could have fully embraced it.
‘Coffee?’
Simon nodded. He sat on one of the stools as she went about making them both some espresso. While the machine hissed and burbled, she could feel him watching her movements, but they said very little. She was tired now and wanted something to enliven her while she considered how her future might unfold. It was all very well to have plans, have dreams, but you never knew what curve-balls life was going to throw at you.
Without asking Simon if he was hungry, she also put some bread in the toaster. There were times when only the comfort of carbs would do.
He’d stripped off his dinner jacket, which was slung over the stool next to him. The lighting in here was too harsh, but he still looked handsome under the glare. Tyler had to do everything in a frenzy of excitement and chaos, but there was a quiet energy about Simon. There always had been.
Turning, she saw him studying her intently. ‘What?’
‘I just like watching you,’ he said. ‘I can’t believe I’m with you. Come here.’
She went to him and he pulled her into his arms. They held each other tightly, so many words unspoken between them. Well, maybe there would be time for that now.
They stayed entwined, her head resting on his shoulder, until the toast popped out of the toaster and the coffee machine hissed that it was ready.
She pulled herself away from him to butter the toast and pour the coffee. ‘We should go through to the living room. It’ll be warmer in there.’
So Simon picked up the cups and she led the way, taking the plate of toast. In the living room she put the plate down on the coffee table and switched on the Christmas-tree lights. They sparkled out in the darkness. There was something so soothing, so welcoming about a Christmas tree. It instantly made the room feel homely.
‘Very pretty.’
‘Not my own work,’ she admitted. ‘I drafted in a company that Melissa Harvey recommended.’
Kirsten wondered how she would spend Christmas this year. She knew she couldn’t face sitting across the table from Tyler for Christmas lunch, that was for sure.
She turned on the wall lights too and lit the gas fire while Simon settled himself on the sofa.
‘It feels really strange being here,’ he said. ‘Surreal.’
Kirsten sat down next to him, curled into his side and relaxed into the cushions with a sigh. She tucked her legs beneath her so that she could snuggle in closer. ‘For me too.’
‘It’s nice though.’ He stroked her face lovingly. ‘Who’d have thought the evening would turn out like this? It’s just like old times.’
She nodded, choked by the flashback. It was, indeed, like old times. Her and Simon, easy in each other’s company, snuggled down on the sofa. It was as if the past decade had simply been deleted.
She pushed the plate of toast towards him and took a piece herself.
‘Thanks.’ Simon bit into it gratefully. ‘This is good.’
‘My culinary skills haven’t got any better, I warn you.’
He looked down at her. ‘Is that something that might be concerning me in the future?’
Shrugging, she answered, ‘That depends.’
He took another piece of toast and waited patiently for her to continue.
‘I’m leaving Tyler,’ she said when she was sure her voice was steady enough. ‘I caught him tonight in a compromising position with his assistant, Louise. One in a long line of conquests.’
His look said, Typical Tyler.
It was true enough. Everyone knew what an unfaithful bastard he was. They couldn’t go on like this. Or, more accurately, she couldn’t go on like this. Tyler, on the other hand, seemed perfectly happy with the status quo. But it wasn’t what she wanted any more. She wanted a partner, someone she could envisage being with as they were growing old. Someone she could share a life with in comfortable companionship. At the age of forty-two she didn’t want to be still sparring like lovesick teenagers. She’d wanted them to work on their relationship, on trying to save their marriage – yet Tyler didn’t seem able to see that his constant lying and deceit were slowly killing her inside.
She’d been sure, until tonight, that, deep down, she still loved Tyler. That they might overcome their difficulties. Now, with his latest infidelity, she was finding it hard to even like him. If she never clapped eyes on him again, it would be too soon.
‘I’m done this time, Simon.’ She let out a weary sigh. ‘I can’t cope with Tyler any more. The pressures of work and his obsessive need to be at the very top of the corporate tree have taken their toll on our marriage. It’s exhausting. He leaves here at first light as he has to be first in the office in the morning, and the last to leave at night. Which means I rarely see him at his best. Mine has always been the bad-tempered, exhausted bit that’s left over.’ She sighed wearily as she poured her heart out. Maybe Simon didn’t need to know all of this, but she felt it was better out in the open. ‘Life was never going to be easy with Tyler. I accepted that the day I signed up, and you know him as well as I do. He’s always been a challenge and, goodness knows why, that was probably some of the attraction.’
‘Why do women like a bad boy?’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t know. It wasn’t all dreadful though. Initially. I did love him, Simon. Not like I loved you. Never in that way. But we did have our moments. He was there for me – now we know why, of course. Yet I admired his single-minded ambition and urge to succeed. Now it’s tainted with a selfish need to smash everyone else out of the way in the scramble. It’s as undignified as it’s unnecessary.’ She sipped her coffee, enjoying the warm buzz it sent through her. ‘In the beginning, Tyler’s worst excesses were countered by a fun-loving nature and a desire to live life to the full. He can be great company when he wants to be.’
‘I know only too well. Remember Toby’s stag weekend?’
‘I never did get the full details,’ she said ruefully.
Simon raised an eyebrow.
‘Probably just as well.’
‘I can imagine it though,’ she went on. ‘It made for a rollercoaster relationship, but sometimes it was exhilarating to hang on for the ride and see where he would take me. Now the balance is gone. The highs are too far apart to be worth waiting for and there are way too many lows.’ She looked up at Simon. ‘I’m telling you all this, spilling the beans on my marriage, because I want you to know how my relationship with Tyler has been. If I’m going to break free, I never want to replicate that.’
‘I understand.’
‘Unfortunately, his quest for happiness, for fulfilment or whatever it is that Tyler wants in his life, wasn’t being sated by work. It wasn’t long before he started turning to more and more forbidden fruit to get his kicks. Women, booze. I don’t know what else. That’s what’s taken him further and further away from me. That’s what hurts. Really hurts. I’ve tried to pretend it doesn’t. But it does.’ She let out an unsteady exhalation. ‘Now it’s going to be sorted out once and for all. There’ll be no more rearranging the deckchairs as the Titanic slowly sinks.’
‘I feel as if I came back just in time.’
‘You probably did,’ she acknowledged. ‘I need a fresh start, Simon. I’m going to draw a line under all this. I want honesty. I want uncomplicated love. No more lies, no more deceit. I want someone who’s going to be there purely for me.’
‘I can fill that role,’ he said.
It was her turn to glance at him. ‘I know.’
‘We can rebuild what we had, Kirsten. I promise you. I want to do that more than anything.’
‘I’d like to say we should take it slowly. My head tells me that I shouldn’t be going straight from one relationship into another.’ Yet she had to admit to herself, her heart was urging her to do just that. ‘There’s so much that’s happened to both of us in the last ten years. Are we still the same people that we were?’
The Christmas Party Page 23
