by Helen Warner
‘Martha found some photos . . . on my computer,’ Jamie began. His throat was so dry he could barely speak. He got up and took a glass from the cupboard before filling it with tap water.
‘Porn?’ Relief crossed Lindsay’s features. ‘Is that all? I’ll talk to Martha. Lots of blokes—’
‘No,’ Jamie cut her off, having gulped down the whole glass. ‘Not porn. Well, not exactly . . .’
Lindsay’s frown returned and she shook her head, causing the knot to unravel and her hair to fall loose around her shoulders again. ‘I don’t know what you mean, Jamie. Were they porn photos or not?’
Jamie refilled the glass and took several more gulps before replying. ‘Yes, they were . . . but unfortunately they weren’t photos of strangers.’
Realisation seemed to dawn and Lindsay stood up so that she was facing him. ‘Then who was in the photos?’
Her voice had the same eerie coldness as Martha’s that morning, and once again Jamie felt a shiver of fear shoot through him. ‘Me,’ he said in a small voice.
‘You and Martha, I hope?’ Lindsay’s face was set in a hard grimace and her voice was flinty.
Jamie took a deep breath and tried to meet her eye, but it was impossible and he looked down again. ‘No. Me and someone else.’
‘Oh my God,’ Lindsay gasped, sinking back down into her chair. ‘Oh my God, Jamie, what the hell have you done?’
‘It meant nothing . . .’ Jamie started to say, but Lindsay was on her feet before he finished speaking, crossing the kitchen and slapping him hard across the face. He clamped his hand to his cheek, where the scratches Martha had inflicted earlier were now zinging with pain, along with the sting of the slap.
‘That poor, poor girl,’ Lindsay hissed, her face contorted in fury.
‘I know.’ Jamie put his hands over his eyes to try to hide his shame. ‘I’ve fucked up, Linds, I’ve really fucked up and I don’t know what the hell to do.’ He was shaking so much he had to crouch down in case he fell.
Lindsay watched him coldly for several minutes until, eventually, she stomped over to the window sill and grabbed a handful of tissues, which she thrust at him. He hadn’t even realised he was crying. ‘Get up,’ she said, her voice full of disgust. ‘Stop feeling sorry for yourself and tell me exactly what happened.’
Jamie slumped into a chair. He blew his nose and wiped his face while Lindsay finished making the cups of tea. She banged a cup down in front of him, so hard that several splashes of tea slopped over the rim. She sat down opposite him and glared at him so furiously that he could feel the white-hot anger coming off her in waves, and it was several minutes before he could find the courage to look up and meet her eye.
‘Well?’ she demanded. ‘Who is she?’
‘No-one,’ he replied. ‘She’s no-one. Oh God, Linds, I don’t know what to do . . .’
‘When you say “she’s no-one”, what exactly do you mean by that? If you were having an affair with her then it—’
‘It wasn’t like that!’ he interrupted her, shaking his head. ‘It was just sex.’
‘Oh please!’ spat Lindsay. ‘That old chestnut! Presumably you told her your wife didn’t understand you as well?’
Jamie shook his head again. ‘No. I didn’t tell her anything. We didn’t really talk. We just used to meet and have sex.’
Lindsay’s mouth dropped open as if she was going to say something but she closed it just as quickly. The ticking of the clock on the kitchen wall sounded heavy in the thick silence. Jamie realised that he had never noticed it before.
‘How long?’ Lindsay said, after sipping her tea. She couldn’t meet Jamie’s eye.
‘About six months . . .’ He said, closed his eyes at the memory. ‘God, what have I done?’
‘Yes, what have you done, you arsehole! Poor Martha. I just keep thinking about how she must have felt, seeing those pictures . . .’
‘Don’t,’ Jamie cut her off. ‘Please don’t.’
‘She trusted you, Jamie! She never, ever doubted you and neither did I. Why did you do it?’
Jamie threw his hands open helplessly. ‘I’ve been trying to answer that question myself . . .’
‘Too much money and too much time on your hands!’ Lindsay snapped. ‘That’s what I think the trouble was. If you’d had to go out to work every day and support your family like most men do, you wouldn’t have had the time to be looking for other women to have sex with.’
Jamie’s face burned. He knew he deserved the verbal onslaught but it was so humiliating.
‘How did Martha react?’
Jamie bit his lip and shook his head again. ‘It was awful . . .’ he said, recoiling at the memory. ‘She was . . . destroyed. I think it might have done less damage if I’d taken a baseball bat to her.’
‘I just want to see her,’ Lindsay said, wiping away a tear. ‘To give her a hug and be there for her. She must be in despair for her to have run off to LA like that. It’s so unlike her.’
‘She’s gone with Charlie Simmons . . .’ Jamie hated the little spark of pleasure that he could see ignite in Lindsay’s eyes. ‘She said she didn’t feel able to come home yet in case she fell apart in front of the kids. And she couldn’t face looking at me.’
‘I don’t blame her. I feel the same way and it’s not even me you cheated on.’
‘Please, Lindsay,’ Jamie beseeched her. He stood up and walked over to the French doors. The garden was in darkness now. ‘I’m desperate here,’ he added, folding his arms across himself, suddenly feeling cold. ‘I know I deserve to be given a hard time but I also need to know what to do. I need your advice on how to get her back. At least so that she’ll talk to me and I can try and prove to her that I know I’ve done wrong and it will never, ever happen again. I love her so much . . .’ He said, dissolved into tears of despair again. ‘I can’t lose her. I just can’t.’
Lindsay didn’t reply but he could sense that her expression had softened slightly. He turned to look at her again. ‘Tell me what to do.’
She shook her head and shrugged. ‘I don’t know, Jamie. She’s probably in shock and isn’t thinking straight. Maybe you need to go after her?’
‘I can’t! What about the children?’
‘Oh God, the children!’ cried Lindsay, putting her hand over her mouth as her eyes widened in horror. ‘Do they know what’s happened?’
‘No. Mimi knows something’s wrong but she doesn’t know what it is. Ironically, she thinks there’s something going on between Martha and Charlie Simmons, because of the photo in the paper.’
‘I hope you put her straight!’ snapped Lindsay, snatching up a napkin and distractedly tearing it into tiny pieces.
‘Yes, Lindsay, I put her straight,’ Jamie sighed. ‘But the girls at school were talking about it and it’s made her suspicious.’
‘How very convenient for you,’ Lindsay sneered, standing up and rubbing her back. ‘Look, Jamie, I’m going to go home. I’ll have a think, and I’ll keep trying Martha. I really want to speak to her and make sure she’s OK.’
Jamie nodded slowly. He felt faint with tiredness and grief, but he also felt relieved that he had been able to talk to someone, even if that someone now hated his guts.
‘Please let me know if you hear from her,’ he pleaded, as he followed her to the front door. ‘And please let me know if you can think of any way at all that I can try to get us through this.’
‘I will,’ Lindsay said, without turning round. ‘Not that you deserve it.’
After he had let Lindsay out, Jamie climbed the stairs and walked wearily into the bedroom, where he pulled up sharply. A feeling of emptiness enveloped him as he looked at the bed. The bed where he and Martha had laughed, kissed, had sex and made their two perfect babies.
Suddenly he couldn’t bear the thought of getting into the bed without her. He grabbed the duvet and a pillow and threw them onto the hard wooden floor. He wanted some way of punishing himself and he decided that this was as good a way as any
to start.
He plugged his phone into the charger and put it beside him, just in case Martha should call or text him during the night. Then he lay down and prepared for what he already knew would be the worst night of his life.
Chapter 17
‘There’s someone at the door, Felix!’ Liv shouted from the kitchen.
Felix came into the kitchen looking bemused. ‘Why don’t you answer it then? Or Juanita?’ he said, frowning up at Liv, who was sitting at the steel and granite island, reading a magazine and drinking tea.
‘Because I think you should,’ she grinned.
Felix’s dark eyes widened. ‘Is it a delivery for me?’ he said, a gappy smile splitting his face in half.
‘Might be!’ Liv replied in a sing-song, teasing voice.
Felix didn’t need telling twice and spun on his heel. Liv grinned to herself and climbed off her stool, following Felix towards the front door. She felt a tingle of excitement and curiosity herself; excitement at seeing Charlie, and curiosity as to whether he had brought his new girlfriend with him.
Felix swung the huge, heavy wooden door open and screamed as he saw Charlie standing on the step, a large wrapped parcel at his feet.
‘Dad!’ he cried, leaping over the parcel and straight into Charlie’s outstretched arms.
Liv felt her eyes watering at the reminder of how much love there was between her son and his father. Over Felix’s head, Charlie met her eye and smiled. It was the first time since their break-up that he had looked at her properly, and certainly the first time he had smiled at her. She nodded by way of reply.
‘Hey, Charlie,’ she said, as cheerfully as she could. ‘Why don’t you come on in?’ She stood back as if to usher him through the door.
Charlie hesitated and placed Felix on the floor again. ‘You sure? We could just wait in the car while you get Felix’s things ready?’
‘We?’ Liv raised a quizzical eyebrow.
Charlie smiled again. ‘My, er, friend, Martha, is with me.’
‘Well, go and get her!’ Liv cried, over-enthusiastically. ‘Bring her in for tea.’
Charlie hesitated again as he looked back at the car. ‘OK then.’ He rubbed Felix’s hair. ‘You go on in with your mum, buddy. I’ll be right back.’
Liv loved the way Charlie’s British accent immediately became more Americanised as soon as he was with Felix, helping his son to reconnect with him the minute he saw him.
Felix bent down and scooped up the parcel, before heading back inside with Liv. ‘Who’s he got with him?’ he whispered, as they headed for the day room that opened out from the kitchen.
Liv glanced back to make sure she wasn’t being overheard. ‘His new friend.’
‘Is it a girl?’
‘Woman, yes.’
‘Then it’s his new girlfriend, isn’t it?’
Liv shrugged. ‘I’m not quite sure, honey. Oh, look, here they come now.’ She ran back towards the door as Charlie and a woman hovered on the doorstep. ‘Come in! Come in!’ she said, trying to sound as welcoming as possible. They stepped through the door and headed warily down the long, wide, double-height hallway.
Liv closed the door behind them and followed, looking curiously at the woman. She had obviously just stepped off an eleven-hour flight, but even so, she looked terrible. In the photo her hair had been thick and glossy. Now it hung in gnarled tangles. She didn’t appear to be wearing any make-up and her jeans and Converse sneakers didn’t even look particularly clean. She looked generally grubby and dishevelled.
As they reached the day room the woman turned. ‘I’m really sorry.’ She looked at Liv with a slightly pleading expression. ‘I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Martha. Martha Lamont.’
Liv took Martha’s hand and shook it, still reeling at how terrible she looked. She hoped for her sake that she and Charlie hadn’t been papped as they landed at LAX. ‘Lovely to meet you,’ she said, glancing at Charlie as she spoke.
Charlie was watching Martha with a concerned expression. He seemed protective of her in a way that reminded Liv of how he had been with her. Before she threw it back in his face and broke his heart.
‘Dad!’ Felix yelled, breaking the tension. ‘You got me an Arsenal kit!’
All three adults whirled around to look at the little boy, who was delightedly holding up a red football strip, boots and a leather football. Liv looked at Charlie and grinned, shaking her head. ‘You boys and your football!’
‘Not football, Mum, soccer!’ Felix corrected her, drawing a laugh from both Charlie and Martha.
Martha walked over to Felix and knelt down beside him. ‘I’ve got a little boy who’s just a bit older than you. He loves football . . . I mean, soccer, too.’
Felix looked up at her curiously. ‘Who does he support? Does he support Arsenal like me and my dad?’
Martha smiled and Liv marvelled at how much it changed her whole face in an instant. ‘No,’ she said. ‘He supports Manchester United. Most of the time.’
Liv looked at Charlie and motioned for him to follow her towards the kitchen area of the big open-plan space. ‘She seems nice,’ she said carefully.
‘Yes,’ Charlie agreed, leaning against the island while Liv put the kettle on. She waited for him to continue but he didn’t. He seemed lost in thought.
‘Would you like to stay and have something to eat? I could get Juanita to make something or we could get a take-out?’
‘Thanks, but no. I think we’ll get off to the hotel. Martha’s exhausted. She didn’t sleep on the plane.’
Liv busied herself making tea, her mind whirring. She couldn’t work out what was going on here. Martha didn’t seem very happy, considering she had just been flown to LA first class by her new film-star boyfriend. And she had mentioned a son, which confused Liv even more.
‘You know,’ she began, handing Charlie a mug of tea, ‘this might sound like a weird suggestion but you guys could always stay here. It might be less unsettling for Felix and we’ve got plenty of room.’ She motioned around her, as if to convey the size of the place.
Charlie didn’t answer at first and Liv wondered if he had even heard her. Finally, he spoke. ‘When are you planning to leave?’ he asked, fixing her with those dark eyes that she had loved so much. Still loved.
‘Tomorrow. So it shouldn’t be too awkward.’ She half-laughed as she spoke.
Charlie looked back towards Martha and Felix, who were still sitting on the floor, chatting like old friends.
‘I’m not sure. How do you think Danny would feel about your ex-husband camping out at his house?’
Liv hesitated. She wanted to say that it was the least Danny could do to make up for stealing Charlie’s wife, but instead she shrugged. ‘I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.’
‘And you’re still sure you’re going to surprise him like that? What if you catch him out?’
Liv looked sharply at Felix, who had stopped talking for a moment and was watching her and Charlie curiously. ‘I’m still going,’ she replied, trying to hide her annoyance. ‘What do you think about staying here then?’ she added, keen to change the subject.
‘I’ll talk to Martha,’ Charlie said, taking another mug of tea from Liv and heading over to Martha, who took the mug gratefully. ‘Thanks. I really need this,’ she said, taking a sip.
‘So . . . Liv has suggested we stay here while we’re in LA and she’s in Hawaii . . .’ Charlie began, sitting down on the floor beside Martha. ‘What do you think?’
‘Oh yeah!’ Felix shouted. ‘That’d be so cool! Please stay here, Dad!’
Charlie smiled. ‘Well, let’s see what Martha thinks first, shall we?’
Martha turned towards Liv, who had come over from the kitchen. ‘I think it seems a bit . . . of an imposition. Maybe you could stay here, Charlie, and I could go to the hotel?’
‘No!’ Liv cried. ‘I wouldn’t hear of it. You can’t stay in two different places.’
Martha’s eyes flashed in alarm. ‘No, really, it would b
e fine. Wouldn’t it, Charlie?’
‘It would be fine . . .’ he began. ‘But it sort of defeats the object of you coming with me to work on my memoirs, don’t you think?’
‘Oh,’ said Martha, as if she hadn’t thought of it before. ‘Yes, maybe you’re right. I had totally forgotten why I was here.’
Liv frowned to herself. This was getting weirder and weirder.
Chapter 18
Martha walked out of the French doors into the surprisingly chilly darkness of the LA night. The wide stone terrace opened onto an illuminated turquoise infinity pool that looked as if it was dangling over the Hollywood hills, ready to drench the parched scrubland at any moment.
She wandered towards the pool and sat on the edge, dipping her toes into the deliciously warm water. All around her, the sound of insects filled the still night air, a cacophony of noise against the backdrop of suspended silence.
She felt better now that she had taken a shower and changed into some clean shorts, a t-shirt and sweater that Charlie’s assistant, Jess, had gone out and bought for her before they left. Goodness knows what Charlie had told her, but somehow she had managed to buy Martha exactly what she would have chosen for herself: a selection of shorts, t-shirts, jeans, dresses and skirts, all in exactly the right sizes and styles that Martha liked.
Under normal circumstances, Martha would never have dreamt of accepting anything from Charlie, let alone a first-class plane ticket and a suitcase full of brand-new clothes and make-up. But these weren’t normal circumstances and Martha was no longer the person she had been; the person who would have protested furiously that she could buy her own things, thank you very much. Now she felt unable to object about anything and was being carried along on a wave of unreality.
She looked up as she heard a noise from the house behind her. Liv was emerging through the doors clutching two glasses. She made her way towards Martha and handed her one. ‘Gin and tonic,’ she explained, smiling. ‘It’s another of my little traditions that helps me to feel less homesick.’ She sat down beside Martha and dipped her toes into the water so that their feet were side by side.
