by HC Warner
Who would miss me if I did jump? My mum, I supposed. But she was pathetic herself. She had made a bloody mess of her own life and screwed mine up in the process when she had my dad put away, accusing him of crimes too heinous to ever be spoken about. I didn’t have any friends who would care. Yes, there were colleagues who would whisper in shocked tones that they couldn’t believe someone as beautiful as me would have had reason to kill herself. ‘Just shows that you never really know what’s going on in someone’s life,’ I imagined them saying. But I had never made any real friends, as other women were always jealous of me and saw me as a threat. Marcus would be upset. But he would get over it and he would probably quickly employ a new PA that he could have some fun with.
I pulled out my phone and stared at it. A tiny part of me had hoped that Peter might have messaged, saying he had made a terrible mistake and begging me to forgive him. But my message inbox remained stubbornly empty. I swallowed down another sob and began to type.
Peter, please don’t do this to me. I am pregnant with your baby. I am standing on Tower Bridge and if I don’t hear from you within the next fifteen minutes, I plan to jump. The pain is unbearable. I can’t go on without you.
I pressed ‘send’ and waited. Almost immediately, the text bounced back. Message failed to send. I tried again. And again, stabbing at the screen in fury. He had changed his phone after his message ending things with me earlier. He had planned everything down to the minutest detail. I leaned over the rail and stared again at the water, willing myself to jump. To put an end to it all. But from deep inside me, a well of white-hot anger began to bubble up.
I didn’t want to die. I wanted to live and I wanted to have this baby. How dare Peter drive me to the point where I would consider suicide, meaning that our baby would die with me. Even though I had only known of the baby’s existence for a matter of hours, I already knew that I loved it like I had never loved anything before.
I put my hand to my stomach. ‘Fuck you, Peter. You are not getting rid of me that easily,’ I said aloud.
‘Good for you, girl,’ said a young woman striding past in a suit and trainers.
I watched her walking away, thinking. How many times had I heard the expression, ‘Don’t get mad, get even’? Well, now, instead of thinking it, I was going to do it. Peter had no idea what hell he had unleashed for himself but he was going to pay for what he had done. Right at that moment, I wasn’t quite sure how, but I knew I was going to exact a revenge so terrible that he would be begging me for a reprieve.
Over the next few days, a plan began to form. I needed to get to Peter via a different route. I thought about causing problems for him at work, about concocting some kind of sexual assault or rape allegations that would have him shamed and fired from his oh-so-bloody-successful career. But there was the small matter of Marcus and probably quite a few other people at my company knowing that we had been openly having a relationship for months and I wasn’t sure I could convince anyone that I had been an unwilling participant.
No, it had to be something else. Something personal to do with his family, that would hurt him as much as he’d hurt me. I wracked my brains to remember the stories he had told me about them, cursing myself now for my huffy disinterest. Then, one night, as I was cleaning my teeth, a genius thought popped into my head, as I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. I suddenly remembered that after Christmas, he told me that his son, Ben, had been dumped by his long-term girlfriend and had taken it very badly.
I remembered thinking that with any luck, Jo would do the same to Peter and then he’d be all mine. I opened my laptop and began to search. It took less than five minutes to find him through LinkedIn. He worked in advertising and his profile picture showed a handsome man who was a little older than me. He looked a bit like his father, which was a plus. But he also looked less arrogant than Peter, with a kinder face, probably because his jawline wasn’t quite so square and chiselled.
I found out that he worked near Covent Garden and waited for him to leave a couple of evenings, to see where he went. He seemed to favour a certain bar, which I checked out after he had gone and it was perfect.
On the night I decided to put my plan into practice, I took the afternoon off work, so that I had time to go home and get ready first. I knew I had one chance to get this right and I didn’t want anything to go wrong. I noticed him and his friend as soon as I walked in and waited at the bar until the table near them became free. The only problem was the number of men who approached, offering to buy me a drink. I adopted my steeliest expression and coldly rebuffed them, staring pointedly at Ben until finally, finally, his friend noticed me.
He was so happy to have secured a table at the restaurant he took me to, blissfully unaware that it was exactly the same location as my very first date with Peter. Oh, the irony.
I went home with him that night and made sure he had the best sex of his life, ensuring that he got so caught up in the moment that he didn’t stop to think about protection. By the morning I knew I had snared him and that I wouldn’t be going back to my own dingy little flat anytime soon.
Chapter Nineteen
As long as it was just the two of us, when Ben seemed happy to be bossed around by me, things were fine. The only problems arose when other people entered our bubble. He always changed slightly in the company of others and quite often, we would have an almighty row about it afterwards.
To begin with, he seemed to want us to spend lots of time with his sister, or his friends, or worse, his mum and dad. I had no desire for Peter to see me while I was pregnant, as I felt fat and unattractive; although I knew that Ben’s ex, Charlotte, wasn’t in my league looks-wise, she was quite slim and I didn’t want any unfavourable comparisons made about our figures.
So I made it clear I preferred it when it was just the two of us and, although it took a while, he seemed to get the hint, at least where his annoying, little-miss-perfect sister was concerned. The crunch point came when he said he wanted to call in and see her on her birthday, as we drove home from a restaurant one evening.
I was tired and fed up and she was the last person I wanted to see. She was so bloody boring and I had heard plenty of gushing about her from Peter, who had always seemed to idolize her. He must have told me twenty times that she went to Oxford and was hugely intelligent and successful. I always took it as a slight on me, who never quite made it to university and pretty much flunked my A Levels. Not that I told him that. I would make vague references to ‘uni’ and always changed the subject if he asked too many questions about my background. Luckily, he was quite self-obsessed which meant he never really enquired.
So when, despite me telling him that I didn’t want to visit her, Ben carried on driving towards Emma’s little terraced house in Fulham and insisted we would only be there ‘about five minutes’, I lost my temper. ‘No!’ I screamed, making him jump visibly in the confines of the car. ‘I don’t feel well and I want to go home!’
Ben sighed heavily.
‘And don’t damn well sigh like that either! How dare you make me feel like I’m in the wrong because I’m pregnant and I just need to get to bed.’
‘Sweetheart …’ he began, reaching over to put his hand on my knee.
I swiped it away furiously. ‘Don’t you “sweetheart” me! You obviously couldn’t care less how I’m feeling!’
Ben frowned. ‘That’s just not true. You know I put you first all the time and look after you incredibly well. But it’s Emma’s birthday and I’ve always arranged to see her at some point on the day, even if it was just to drop off her card on the way home.’
‘Oh yes, I’m sure bloody Saint Charlotte spent half her life cosying up to your perfect sister. Well, I’m not Charlotte and I find Emma snobby and boring. She doesn’t even try to hide what she thinks of me.’
Ben pulled up in the street outside Emma’s house and turned off the ignition. ‘You’ve only seen her once or twice and she was perfectly nice to you. I don’t know wh
y you have this thing about her.’
Little did he know that my hatred of Emma was born long before I ever clapped eyes on her and stemmed from Peter’s unstinting devotion and pride in her. I didn’t think she was that special, anyway. ‘If you insist on going in to see her, fine. It’s selfish and thoughtless towards me but then that’s you all over, so go ahead. I’ll wait here.’
Ben frowned and shook his head. ‘You really want to sit in the car while I go in and deliver my sister’s birthday card? You don’t want to wish her a happy birthday at all?’
‘Nope.’ I folded my arms across my rounded stomach and stared steadfastly ahead.
‘But she’ll see you when she comes to the door.’
I shrugged. ‘So? I don’t care.’
I could sense the cogs whirring in Ben’s brain. He looked up and down the street before starting the engine again. I tried to conceal the tiny smile of triumph that was tugging at the corners of my mouth, as he pulled out of the space. But when he pulled into another space about twenty metres away, I looked at him in fury. ‘What the hell are you doing?’
Ben undid his seatbelt and opened the car door. ‘I’m dropping off my sister’s birthday card and if you don’t want to come with me, at least she’s not going to see you sitting here refusing to get out of the car.’
My mouth dropped open as he slammed the door behind him and I watched as he strode back down the street towards Emma’s door.
I watched the clock through narrowed eyes, the anger inside me increasing with every minute that elapsed. Finally, after eleven minutes, I saw him coming back down the road. He got into the car and started the engine, pulling away too fast and causing me to be thrown back in my seat. I looked at him in disgust. ‘Oh that’s right, take your temper out on your pregnant wife.’
Ben took a deep, shuddery breath and exhaled loudly. When he glanced at me, I thought I could see tears shining in his eyes. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said at last. ‘It’s just that Emma’s my sister and we’ve always been close. She’s not had the easiest life …’
‘Pffft!’ I hissed, thinking that if Emma wanted to know what a life that wasn’t easy looked like, she could try mine for size.
Ben ignored me and carried on. ‘You know that she’s got issues but she’s a good person and I love her.’
I sighed. God, he was nauseating sometimes! ‘Look,’ I began, swallowing down the venom I desperately wanted to spew. ‘I know all that. But she makes me feel like I’m not good enough for you. As if she looks down her nose at me …’
‘She really doesn’t … she’s not like that at all.’
‘Well, I’m just telling you how she makes me feel – and you can’t argue with how I feel, can you?’
Ben gave a small, dry laugh. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I can’t.’
Ben’s parents were easier to avoid as they lived in Suffolk and although I knew Ben often met Peter for lunch in London, he didn’t expect me to go, too.
I had absolutely no desire to spend any more time than necessary with his twittering idiot of a mother and would always invent an illness or a hastily arranged trip that I swore I had told Ben about if he ever suggested a weekend in Suffolk.
But prising Ben away from his friends was another matter entirely. He seemed to be obsessed with Matt, his best friend, and was always suggesting dinners with him and his wife, Freya.
When I realized that I could no longer keep making excuses, I reluctantly agreed to a night at their flat. ‘You’re going to love them so much!’ Ben exclaimed, giving my hand a squeeze as we walked up to the front door. ‘I can’t wait for them to meet you.’
I smiled dutifully and pretended to be nervous, clutching the flowers I’d bought closer to my chest. ‘I hope they don’t hate me,’ I told him, biting my lip for good measure.
Ben’s eyes widened. ‘Of course they won’t hate you! They’ll love you as much as I do.’ He planted a kiss on the top of my head, causing me to grit my teeth.
Matt opened the door with a wide smile and pulled Ben into a laddish embrace. I had forgotten how attractive Matt was, actually. The only time I had seen him before, I was concentrating so hard on snaring Ben that I hadn’t taken much notice of him. He also seemed to have quite a good sense of humour and was a bit less drippy than Ben. I clocked his eyes roaming over my body and thought what a shame it was that I couldn’t have a pop at him, but decided that being pregnant and his best friend’s new girlfriend meant that anything more was unlikely. I didn’t want to look too pushy, so I just gave him a small, playful wave rather than a kiss.
Matt’s wife, Freya, came out to greet us and I presented her with the flowers, which she took shyly, looking slightly overawed. I was pleased to see that, just like Ben’s boring ex, she was nothing special to look at, so I wouldn’t have had much competition if I did decide to make a move on Matt. Yes, she was pretty enough and had an annoyingly sexy figure, but she wasn’t outstanding in any way. She certainly wasn’t in my league. I knew that she and Charlotte had been very close and I could sense immediately that she was unsure about me, so decided to launch a charm offensive to win them both over.
I spent the evening asking them all about themselves and their lives, gushing over the food and admiring their perfectly ordinary flat, so that by the time we were ready to leave, I knew I had won them both over. There was a brief, slightly awkward moment when Ben told them about the pregnancy and once they had recovered from the shock, I could see Freya’s eyes narrowing slightly, as if she was working something out. She was a midwife and I didn’t want her asking too many questions, so I employed my usual technique of changing the subject as soon as it turned to me.
It wasn’t a bad evening and I could see that Ben was enjoying himself – he certainly drank plenty – but by 11 p.m. I was exhausted from being on my best behaviour and wanted to go home. As Ben showed no signs of flagging I started looking at my watch pointedly and yawning. Finally, he took the hint and stood up. ‘I suppose we’d better be making a move.’
Matt nodded. ‘Fancy a quick stroll to clear your head first? To the end of the road and back?’
Ben nodded enthusiastically. ‘Definitely!’ He looked at me. ‘I’ll just be five minutes, darling.’
Irritation quivered in my chest. What the hell was this all about? I really did just want to go home now and I certainly didn’t want to risk any alone time with Freya, in case she starting grilling me on the details of the pregnancy.
So I smiled as pleasantly as I could and stood up, fully aware that I was impinging on their ridiculous lads’ ritual. ‘Sure. I’ll get my jacket.’
Ben and Matt exchanged confused glances. ‘Um, no need for you to come, too, darling.’ Ben nodded at me reassuringly. ‘We’ll only be a few minutes.’
I fixed Ben with my most determined stare. There was no way he was going anywhere without me. ‘I’d like some air, too. Don’t worry, you won’t even know I’m there.’
There was a slightly uncomfortable pause, before Ben shrugged at Matt. The three of us let ourselves out of the house and turned into the street, where Matt and Ben stood awkwardly hopping from foot to foot, unsure what to do.
‘You go on ahead,’ I prompted, trying to conceal my annoyance.
‘OK,’ they chorused obediently, before walking ahead of me, both glancing occasionally over their shoulders to see if I was still there. I knew it was weird but I didn’t want Ben saying anything he shouldn’t behind my back. I needed to keep an eye on him.
I watched as Matt took a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket and offered them to Ben. Ah, so that was what this was all about. By now I had let them get a short distance in front of me and I saw Ben glance back over his shoulder. ‘Nah, I’d better not,’ he muttered, nodding towards me.
‘She won’t mind you having one, surely?’ Matt also glanced over his shoulder back at me.
‘She might.’
I felt like shouting out, telling Ben that yes, I absolutely did mind him having a cigarette, but that I mi
nded him making me out to be a complete control freak much more.
Matt lit a cigarette and I saw the swirls of smoke rising above his head as he puffed on it. ‘So, what do you reckon then? About the baby?’
I strained as hard as I could so that I could hear Ben’s answer.
‘I’m really happy about it,’ he fired back instantly, a note of defiance in his voice.
Good boy I thought, pleased with his decisive response.
‘That’s good,’ Matt replied.
‘I must admit it was a bit of a shock, though,’ Ben said, after a long pause.
Shut the hell up! I wanted to scream.
‘I bet.’ I could tell Matt was fishing by the long pauses he was leaving for Ben to fill.
Ben glanced back at me again, clearly unaware that I could hear every word, carried on the still night air. ‘I keep thinking about Charlotte and me.’
Again, my ears pricked up.
‘And?’ Matt prompted.
Ben sighed. ‘I think it must just not have been meant to be. All that time and we never had an accident. First night with Bella and …’
‘Bingo!’ Matt finished the sentence for him.
My heart began to pound. Surely he wasn’t suspicious?
Ben gave a dry laugh. ‘Yeah. Bingo.’
‘Well, as long as you’re happy about it, I’m pleased for you, mate.’
I held my breath but Ben didn’t reply. Matt blew out a long trail of smoke before stubbing out his cigarette on the pavement and together, they turned back towards me. I turned, too, and tried to look as nonchalant as possible as we walked back the way we had come, this time with me in front of them.
‘Does she always do that?’ I heard Matt say.
