Naturally, after that brief flicker of doubt Faye decided to use the information from the USB stick. Now that the key-logger was installed on Jack’s computer she had got part of the way, but she had yet to find a way to collect it and copy the text-file containing all the information. Then she had to hope that everything was still there in his Gmail account. The Jack she used to know was hopeless at getting rid of things. He always wanted to keep everything, just in case: ‘You never know when you might need it.’
With a bit of luck she’d have an opportunity during Julienne’s birthday party that weekend.
Then there was Ylva. Though it seemed Jack had already reduced her to a shadow of her former self, Faye couldn’t forget the look of derision in Ylva’s eyes when she had looked at her. In her bedroom. Naked and freshly fucked by Faye’s husband. Slim, toned, and with perfect silicone tits.
Slowly but surely she had invaded Ylva’s territory at the same time as Ylva had started to slide into hers. Faye’s body was slim and toned. She had new breasts. And Jack had noticed the change. Each time they met to pick up or drop off Julienne his eyes would roam over her body. The way they used to back at the start. Back when she was the one he couldn’t get enough of. Much as she hated him, the attraction she felt for him was as strong as ever. And she had never got used to seeing him with Ylva. She probably never would.
Her own love-life was confined to short-term flings with younger men that she met in bars, slept with a few times and then broke up with. No one was allowed to get too close. No one was allowed to stay. In her weaker moments she dreamed of crushing Jack, once and for all … and then taking him back. Another of her dirty, shameful secrets. The dark water kept replenishing itself.
No one could accuse Jack of restraint, Faye thought as she drove up to the house. Julienne had said she wanted her seventh birthday party to be a ‘carnival’, and Jack had brought in a company specializing in children’s parties who had decorated the garden with pink balloons, party tents and stages, and a red carpet, although in this instance it was pink. And a professional photographer to take pictures of all the children as they arrived, then put their photographs up on a wall. There were tables laid in the garden, groaning under the weight of food and presents. Even by Lidingö standards, it was pretty over the top.
But then Jack had a greater need for self-justification than any of the other dads on the island.
Julienne let out a shriek, jumped out of the car and ran up the drive. Jack and Ylva came out onto the steps to meet her. Faye got out and walked up the slope. She had chosen a tight, low-cut, short-sleeved dress, flesh-coloured, from Hervé Léger, and she could feel Jack looking at her. Ylva seemed to notice him looking as well. She threw her arms open demonstratively to Julienne. Faye felt a pang in her gut when Julienne hugged her, but made an effort to go on smiling.
‘How nice you’ve made it look,’ she said.
‘We wanted to do something extra special for her today,’ Ylva said breezily as she air-kissed Faye.
She smelled pleasantly of shampoo and perfume. She too had begun to adopt an ingratiating, falsely familiar tone towards Faye once her success with Revenge had become too big and obvious to ignore.
Faye looked at Ylva as she disentangled herself from her embrace. Wasn’t she starting to get the same bitter set to her mouth that Faye had noticed in herself during the latter part of her time with Jack? And a bit too much Botox in her forehead?
‘If you run up to your room you’ll see that we’ve organized an early surprise for you,’ Jack said, patting Julienne on the cheek.
Julienne ran into the house and her footsteps echoed up the stairs. Jack turned towards Faye.
‘Ylva’s organized a … what was it again?’
‘A make-up artist,’ Ylva said. ‘The same girl who does Carola’s make-up, actually.’
A young man came over and introduced himself as a magician. He and Jack disappeared into the house, leaving Faye and Ylva to look out over the garden. Two men were carrying one of the tables between them.
‘You really have made it look very nice,’ she said again, to fill the silence.
She wasn’t lying. The house was beautiful, and the garden delightful. Their gardener deserved a bonus. They seemed to have got rid of the geese that used to shit all over the beach. There was a rumour that Jack had paid someone to shoot them at night.
Ylva smiled.
‘Would you like to stay and join in? Juli would probably rather we kept out of the way as much as possible, but it could be nice, couldn’t it?’
Faye’s comments about her home seemed to have prompted a spontaneous show of generosity. She seemed to regret it at once, but it was out there now.
Faye felt like being sick when she heard Ylva call her daughter Juli. But instead of pointing out that she wasn’t some damn pet guinea pig she nodded. Partly because she hoped she might get a chance to access Jack’s computer, but also because she had noticed Ylva’s immediate regret about her spontaneous invitation.
‘I’d love to.’
‘Great. Wonderful. Jack’s managed to book Sean and Ville to come and sing a couple of songs.’
Sean and Ville were a boy-band Julienne and her friends were completely obsessed with. They knew all the songs and never missed their daily updates on YouTube. Some weekends she even forced Faye to take her to sit outside their studio, just for the chance to see the two wastrels throw themselves into a taxi without so much as a glance at the little girls waiting, first with shrieks of excitement, then tears of disappointment.
‘That can’t have been cheap,’ she said.
‘No, their manager demanded eight thousand kronor – for two songs. Plus a rider requesting champagne and chocolate truffles …’
‘Dear Lord …’
‘Jack wasn’t sure at first, but I persuaded him. I so want this to be an unforgettable day for her. Would you like a glass of champagne? You can always leave the car here and get a taxi home. Or we can arrange to have someone drive you home in your car.’
‘That would be lovely.’
‘Let’s go in.’
There was a zinc bar in the living room. Ylva walked behind it and took out a bottle.
‘Cava?’ she asked. ‘I prefer it to champagne, I always have a few bottles in the house.’
‘Great, thanks.’
Ylva took out a glass, opened the bottle and poured some for Faye.
‘Aren’t you having any?’
Ylva shook her head.
‘We’ve never talked about … well, what happened,’ she said.
She looked almost apologetic. Faye suddenly realized how much she hated her. She had slept with Faye’s husband for months behind her back. And now she was standing here, in their fucking big house, cool and beautiful, if a little over-Botoxed, acting all sympathetic and imagining that everything could be forgiven. It would be more honest if she had continued to be as haughty and arrogant as she had been when she was standing naked in Faye’s bedroom. Faye would have hated her less then.
Now all she wanted was to see her break apart in front of her eyes.
Ylva and Jack. They truly deserved each other. They deserved what was approaching on the horizon and would soon destroy their perfect life.
‘There’s no need,’ she said. ‘You and Jack are such a good match for each other. And things have turned out so well for all three of us.’
She raised her glass.
‘I’m very impressed with what you’ve managed to do with Revenge,’ Ylva said, sitting down in a large, flowery armchair.
A Josef Frank design from Svenskt Tenn. Jack had always loved their prints, but Faye couldn’t help thinking they were better suited to pensioners.
‘Mm, thanks. And how are things going for you? Are you happy at Musify?’
‘I’m actually going to leave. I … I’ve spent the last couple of years working part-time. Jack’s work needs so much support, all the entertaining, this house, Julienne … well, you know.’
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bsp; Ylva waved one hand, but didn’t look Faye in the eye. And Faye wondered how much time Julienne took up during the few hours each month that she was with them. But all she said was:
‘Oh?’
‘We … well, er, Julienne’s going to have a little brother or sister. And you know what Jack’s like, he’d rather I stayed at home. I’m looking forward to it, because I haven’t got a family of my own.’
Faye stared at her. She had been wondering when this day would come. Had dreaded it. Even so, nothing could have prepared her for the kick in the solar plexus that the news delivered. But at the same time she realized that the end was fast approaching for Ylva. Part of Faye felt sorry for her, part of her wanted to punch her.
‘That’s great news. Congratulations.’
Faye arranged her features into what she hoped looked like a smile, though her guts were twisting so badly that she wanted to bend double with pain.
Ylva put her hands on her non-existent bulge and beamed at her. Faye returned the smile and took a large slurp of wine. Memories of the abortion forced their way into her head. Jack’s cold indifference. And Julienne’s birth. The hundreds of unreturned calls and texts to Jack, while she, immersed in panic and pain, gave birth to their daughter.
She looked out of the window. The garden was full of staff frantically preparing for the arrival of the party guests.
‘When are you due?’ she asked.
‘Six months.’
Ylva lit up when she saw Jack walking towards them. He poured himself a whisky at the bar and sat down in the other armchair, some distance from Ylva, where he had a clear view of Faye’s cleavage.
Ylva noticed.
‘Is everything ready?’ she asked. Her voice sounded tight.
‘Pretty much. The other children will be here in forty-five minutes.’
He held his watch up towards her. An Audemars Piguet, worth around half a million kronor. Not a Rolex, which Jack presumably considered too mainstream. Everyone had a Rolex these days. Anyone who was anyone had an Audemars Piguet. Or a Patek Philippe.
‘The pop stars are coming at three. Don’t say anything to Julienne, she doesn’t know.’
He nodded in Faye’s direction.
‘How’s business?’
‘Great, thanks. And things seem to be going well for you too. The stock-market launch is exciting.’
‘It’s a lot of work. But it’s worth it after everything I’ve been through.’
Faye smiled at him and Ylva.
‘Congratulations on the baby. Ylva told me.’
She changed position, so that he could see a bit further up her skirt. She wasn’t wearing any underwear, she didn’t want any lines spoiling her skin-tight dress.
Jack watched her movements.
He raised his glass to her. The crotch of his trousers looked tight.
‘Mm, yes, great,’ Jack said in a thick voice.
He gave a strained smile. His eyes looked unfocused.
Ylva cleared her throat. ‘Jack’s been a bit unsure. There’s so much going on with his work right now, and you of all people know how seriously Jack takes being a parent.’
Was that how she used to sound? Jack thinks, Jack wants, Jack believes? Christ, she must have been unbearable. And now Ylva was sitting there, a younger version of her, with her hands on her stomach and a stupid grin on her face, praising the same man. Blinded by love and admiration. And dependency.
Jack preferred his women like that, Faye realized now. But that only made her despise Ylva even more. Had she felt any qualms at all? During any of those no doubt countless times she had had sex with Jack at the office, in their home, in her own flat while Faye sat at home waiting? Probably. But she had been blinded by her love for Jack. And looked down on his pathetic wife, drifting about the house all day with no career, no ambitions. No doubt Ylva thought herself far superior in comparison. And had concluded that Faye was unworthy of a man like Jack.
Faye drank the last of her wine. She looked sadly down at the bottom of the narrow glass. She didn’t feel quite bold enough to go and refill her own glass at the bar.
‘I think I might go and have a lie-down before everything gets going,’ Ylva said, and stood up with a last look at Faye.
A silence fell after she left the room. After a while Jack cleared his throat.
‘You’re looking incredible,’ he said quietly.
His eyes didn’t leave her cleavage. She let him look at her. Tucked her hair back to uncover her neck and collarbones, no longer hidden under a protective layer of fat. She would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy him looking at her, but the fact that her body persisted in reacting to him didn’t mean that he had control over her.
Part of her wanted to show him that she no longer needed him. Make him understand that she no longer saw herself in terms of him. But she mustn’t give in to the temptation to show her superiority. Partly because she needed to get him to fall for her again, which would never happen if he didn’t think he could control her. Partly because he – no matter how badly he had treated her – was still Jack. However much she might try to deny it, his words meant something to her.
‘Thanks,’ she replied coolly.
His gaze moved down to her cleavage again and lingered there. She took out her mobile and pretended to send a text.
‘Do you know, I still dream about you sometimes?’ he said as he got up from the armchair, went over to the bar and fetched the bottle of cava, and refilled both their glasses.
He sat down on the sofa next to her, coming far too close.
The smell of Jack’s aftershave confused her. It was the same scent he had worn in Barcelona. She took a deep breath, told herself that she mustn’t let herself be taken in by her memories, all the things she had believed to be true but which had turned out to be lies. She was going to have to reject his advances but maintain his interest. A precarious balancing act. Jack liked the chase. That was how she had caught him the first time, a long time ago in another life. She turned towards him and looked directly into those beautiful blue eyes, which were now focused solely on her.
Men like Jack always wanted what wasn’t theirs. That was why he had been unfaithful to her. That was why she knew he was going to be unfaithful to Ylva as well, if he hadn’t been already. That was why he would be unfaithful to any woman in his life for as long as he lived.
Hearing the sound of footsteps behind them, Faye and Jack turned at the same time and saw Julienne approaching. She was wearing a beautiful pink dress. She had make-up on, and it made her look very grown-up. Faye wasn’t altogether sure what she thought about that.
‘You look beautiful, darling,’ she said anyway. ‘Like a princess.’
Julienne did a twirl.
‘Jessica says I could be a model,’ she said.
‘Jessica?’ Faye repeated, searching her memory for the names of her daughter’s school-friends.
‘The make-up artist,’ Jack said when he saw her confusion. ‘And she’s right about that.’
He swept Julienne up onto his lap and Faye felt a moment’s doubt. As Julienne sat between them on the sofa it felt briefly as if they were a family again. It made Faye feel a bit lost, disorientated.
She reached for her glass and raised it to her lips as Jack stared greedily at her.
The sound of shrill voices could be heard in the garden. The girls had started to arrive. Luxury car after luxury car pulled up in the drive and out tumbled a deluge of six- and seven-year-olds in party outfits. Faye stayed in the background while Jack and Ylva chatted to the parents. The pile of presents on the table grew. Most of them were wrapped in white paper bearing the logo of NK department store. The magician got up on stage and the girls cheered. Waiters brought nibbles and fizzy drinks for the girls in their party dresses, who were sitting at round tables in the party tent, like some fancy evening reception. Julienne clapped her hands happily. A famous children’s television presenter was acting as compere, introducing the acts.
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sp; When Sean and Ville, last to perform, appeared on stage, the shrieks of excitement were deafening. Faye realized that this was her chance to scan the key-logger. The girls left their tables and crowded around the edge of the stage. Ylva and Jack seemed completely absorbed in the girls’ reactions as their idols appeared. She discreetly left the tent, went inside the house and upstairs to Jack’s study. He still had the same desk he’d had when they were together, the one that once belonged to Ingmar Bergman. She felt a pang of nostalgia for the room in the tower. Its majestic stillness, hovering above the city, a memory from a distant time. She shook off the feeling and forced herself to focus. Those few moments on the sofa with Jack and Julienne had knocked her off balance. She couldn’t afford that.
She put her handbag down on the desk and leaned over the computer. Beside the screen were two framed photographs. A black-and-white Polaroid picture of Ylva that must have been taken several years ago. She was staring seriously at the camera, her lips slightly parted. Fucking the camera, as Chris would have said. The other picture was of Jack, Ylva and Julienne in a restaurant. Ylva and Julienne were wearing matching dresses. They looked like a happy little family. All three of them were laughing. Faye took a deep breath. It was only an illusion, a façade that Jack had created. Nothing more.
She moved the mouse and the computer came to life, and she typed in Jack’s old password. Held her breath. Good, he hadn’t changed that one. An oversized picture of Jack and Ylva appeared. They were embracing on a jet-ski. She forced herself to stop staring at the image, inserted the USB she was holding and did what Nima had told her.
It took her a matter of seconds to find the hidden file that had logged his activity, and she clicked to transfer it to the memory stick. Then she went into ‘My documents’ and transferred the files she found there, even though she didn’t anticipate finding anything useful in them.
She heard a scraping sound from the corridor outside. She quickly put the computer back into sleep mode and looked around desperately for somewhere to hide, but before she had time to do anything the door swung open. She turned round.
The Gilded Cage Page 22
