by Emma Davies
‘I’m so sorry,’ she said.
The seconds ticked by until eventually Amos raised his face to hers. ‘Your husband needs to learn that not everyone can be bought,’ he said, his face a mixture of sadness and anger.
And the unspoken words, including you, hung in the air between them.
19
The day ground by interminably slowly and Grace had wished for the evening to hurry up and arrive. Now that it had, however, she wished it had never arrived at all. After finishing up his checks on the car that morning, Amos had disappeared and she hadn’t seen him all day. He had seemed okay when he left but she couldn’t help feeling that something was very amiss and even, perhaps, that he was avoiding her. If she hadn’t had so much to do she probably would have invented some excuse to pop over to the farm and see him, but it was not to be, and now she was a bundle of nervous, anxious energy.
Dominic and Paul were both in buoyant moods. Despite the slight bumpy start to the morning caused by the flat tyre, the rest of their plans had gone like clockwork and it was obvious from the confident swagger of both men that they were more than happy with the day’s outcome. Grace didn’t ask, she didn’t particularly want to know; all that concerned her now was getting through the evening. And that was proving to be increasingly difficult.
The meal had gone well, and the atmosphere around the table was most convivial as the men relaxed after their food. But Paul was knocking back the wine at a pretty steady rate of knots and, although well able to handle his drink, was always more demonstrative when he’d had too much alcohol. He slid an arm around her shoulders, moving it inward so that his hand just caressed the back of her neck. It was a particularly intimate gesture and she could feel all her muscles tense in response. She eased herself away from the table on the pretence of fetching something from the kitchen. Strictly speaking it wasn’t an excuse, she had bought some particularly fine truffles to have after dinner, but in truth she had only just taken away the cheese board and it was far too early to be bringing out more food. It was just that as time went by she was finding it increasingly difficult to stomach her husband’s attention.
Their relationship had been on rocky ground for several years now, but it had been easy enough to miss each other in this spacious house and for the most part they had managed to live largely separate lives. But what was becoming increasingly clear to Grace was that during this time she had never had the opportunity to contrast her husband’s behaviour with that of any other men. Now that she had, she was beginning to notice how loud he was, how gauche; showy and brash rather than displaying the quiet and cultured intelligence that the others did. Was this how they saw him too? And worst of all, she found herself contrasting his overbearing and possessive manner with that of Amos’s kind and generous humility. Or simply just comparing him to Amos…
She pretended to tidy the already spotless kitchen; the dishwasher had long since been loaded and the few remaining pots and pans, washed, dried and put away. On an impulse she decided to make up a pitcher of what Hannah called her ‘special water’. It was essentially just ice-cold water with fruit added to it, and a touch of lime or lemon juice, but was extremely refreshing and made a good non-alcoholic alternative. If nothing else, it might slow Paul down. His behaviour was beginning to feel far too similar to that of the last weekend they hosted.
Taking a lemon, some grapes and an apple from the fruit bowl on the table, she took a minute to cross to the open patio doors and breathe in the night air, relishing its verdant stillness.
‘Looking for your gardener, are you?’
Grace whirled around to see Paul leaning up against the kitchen doorjamb. He had a glass of red wine in his hand and was holding it by the rim, swinging it loosely from side to side. She knew exactly who he was talking about.
‘Taking the air actually,’ she replied. ‘Although if I was looking for my gardener, then I’m afraid I’d have to disappoint you. We don’t have a gardener and I very much doubt that one would be working at this time of night, given that it’s pitch black outside.’
‘Don’t try to be clever, Grace, it doesn’t suit you.’
‘I rather thought it was you who was trying to be clever.’
‘Oh, come on, you were practically falling over him this morning.’
Grace sighed. ‘Shall we just stop all this silliness?’ she said. ‘We both know you’re talking about Amos, so let’s just come out and say it, shall we? Just what exactly are you accusing me of here?’
‘I’m not accusing you of anything, Grace, just making an observation, that’s all. You said before that your friends helped you do up this place and it’s very obvious which particular friend that was. I’m surprised at you actually; I really didn’t think you had it in you. I mean, I’ve only been gone a matter of weeks and already someone else’s feet are under the table.’
Despite having promised herself she wouldn’t get riled, Grace could feel a flush of anger rising inside. She didn’t much care what Paul said about her, but she would not let him talk about Amos in that way. He had done nothing to deserve it and would be horrified if he knew that someone could even think those things about him.
She fixed her gaze on Paul’s. He was still leaning nonchalantly up against the door and his fake indifference was beginning to annoy her intensely.
‘Shall we make something absolutely clear,’ she began. ‘First of all, Paul, you have gone… and you’ve gone because you have lied and cheated your way through the last few years of our marriage. So don’t you dare question my actions or, worse, judge me by your own appallingly low standards. Amos is a friend, the same as Ned, or Flora, Hannah, or Fraser. He came to the farm just a few weeks ago, looking for work in return for his board and lodging, and that’s what he’s been doing ever since; working. And he may not have any money or fancy clothes but he’s got more honesty and integrity in his little finger than you have in your entire body.’
Paul took a slow swallow from his glass, regarding her coolly as he did so. He was silent for a few seconds and then levered himself upright, away from the door. At first she thought he was about to turn and leave but then he took a few steps into the room.
‘So where did he come from then, this Amos?’
‘I’m honestly not sure. Like I said, he came to work on the farm. If you’re that interested I’m sure Hannah can show you a copy of his references.’
‘But from what you’ve said he didn’t come invited, he just turned up, out of the blue, from nowhere in particular… Doesn’t sound like something that stick-in-the-mud, Hannah, would allow. Or did he work his charm on her too?’
Carrying the fruit over to the work surface, Grace placed it on a chopping board. ‘You know, you really are a pig,’ she said, turning her back on Paul and slicing an apple in two.
She felt rather than heard the movement, realising that Paul had come to stand behind her. His breath was hot on the side of her neck, laden with wine fumes and casual threat. Every part of her stilled, waiting for his next move, wanting to recoil, to shrink from the touch that was surely coming. She felt his lips graze her skin and a wave of revulsion swept over her. She could barely even stand to be in the same room as him these days.
An arm stretched past her as he placed his glass down beside the chopping board, leaning in even closer. His lips moved along her shoulder, up her neck, until they just touched her earlobe.
‘Well, when you want to know where Amos really came from, be sure to let me know, won’t you?’
The words were a whisper, barely even a breath, but Grace heard them loud and clear. She froze, trying desperately not to give Paul the reaction he was waiting for. He pushed himself away from her and gave a low laugh as he turned and headed for the door. She turned too, at the last minute, fighting her impulse to know more. Staring at his back, the seconds ticked by and, despite herself, the question was on her lips when Dominic came through the door. He sensed the atmosphere in a second.
‘Everything all righ
t in here?’ He looked straight at Paul, a challenging enquiry on his face.
Grace gave a vague smile. ‘Fine,’ she replied.
‘Well, I hope so. We were just discussing one or two things which could do with your input, Paul, in case you’ve forgotten what this weekend is in aid of. Perhaps you could come back and join us? If you’re done here, of course…’
‘We’re done,’ said Grace and she turned back to the chopping board, heart pounding and ears roaring with the thoughts that were assailing her. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, feeling the eddies begin to settle. She knew that Paul was trying to rile her, and she knew why. The supposed jealousy he was displaying wasn’t jealousy at all; she hadn’t been the object of his affections for a long time and she knew the touches and kisses were designed only to make her feel uncomfortable, to remind her who held the power in their relationship. Paul didn’t want her, but he couldn’t stand being made to feel like he could ever be replaced either.
She stared at the fruit on the board, willing his words to stop their constant march through her head. When you want to know where Amos really came from; that’s what he had said. When you want to know… but did she? And more importantly, what did Paul know? How did he know? Or was that just a ruse too, designed to make her question a man she trusted far more than her husband?
In reality Paul probably didn’t know anything at all, but all the same his words touched a chord because Grace was only too well aware that she didn’t actually know where Amos had come from, aside from the vaguest of details. And in all the time he had been at the farm, she and everyone else had respected his privacy, had accepted his way of life, because what else did you do with a man like Amos? Someone who was as kind and thoughtful as he was, generous and caring, and with a wisdom that went far beyond his years, must surely deserve not to have his very integrity questioned. But Paul had sown the seed of doubt and, just as he’d known it would, it had begun to grow.
Grace scooped up the fruit from the board and added it to a large glass pitcher which she then topped up with cold water from the fridge. Some slices of cucumber and sprigs of fresh mint finished it off and, placing the jug on a tray together with some clean glasses, she carried the whole lot through into the living room. Dominic’s words rang in her ears; she too had to remember what this weekend was about, there was a lot at stake for them all. She felt as if she were on a runaway train, as if some process had been put into motion that she was powerless to stop, and she had no idea where any of them would end up when it did. But, for now, she would smile, and chat, refill glasses, offer tempting morsels of food and somehow make it through the rest of the evening.
She almost managed it. Zac and Riley were engaging company and even Scott who, much younger than the others, had been extremely shy to start with, had found his level and contributed as much to the conversation. It made the task of trying to keep Amos out of her head that bit easier and she made sure that Paul had no opportunity to catch her on her own and put him back there. Except that now, the evening was drawing to a close and Grace knew that in a short while she would be left with nothing but her own thoughts for company.
Dominic had been the first to retire to bed, followed by Scott and Paul. It was a political move, giving Zac and Riley some time to talk together on their own. She smiled as she carried the last of the glasses through into the kitchen and saw them sneak out the patio doors for one final cigarette and a sharing of thoughts. The candles all around the patio had been lit earlier in the evening, but with the lights on in the kitchen, Grace could see little of the outside. Every now and again a few words or the odd laugh would reach her, but that was all. She would have given anything to know what Zac and Riley were discussing. Tomorrow a leisurely breakfast would bring the weekend to an end and, if they hadn’t made up their minds who they were going to award their contract to by now, she doubted very much that anything which happened tomorrow would change it. And, as far as she was concerned, she had done what she could.
She loaded the last few cups into the dishwasher and tidied away the stray bits and pieces that had found their way into the kitchen, leaving it neat and tidy for the morning. Then, having filled a glass with cool water to take upstairs to bed, she was about to go and say goodnight to Zac and Riley when the patio doors slid open and both men walked back into the room.
‘Grace,’ said Zac softly. ‘I’m glad you’re still up…’
She smiled a little nervously. His words didn’t sound like the polite goodnight she was expecting.
Zac indicated the table. ‘I know you’re probably desperate to get some sleep, but we wondered if we might beg just a couple more minutes of your time.’
‘And don’t look so worried,’ quipped Riley. ‘We only want to heap praise and adoration on you, in case we don’t get the opportunity tomorrow.’
She grinned at Riley’s sense of humour, still very evident, and took a seat.
‘We also wanted to make sure that you were alone when we did. We’re under no illusion as to who has made this weekend possible, Grace, and we wanted to make sure that the right person received the credit.’
‘Oh…’ She didn’t know what to say to that. It was extremely generous, but… She looked up and caught Zac’s eye. He smiled.
‘And yes, you’re right, that’s not what you were expecting to hear and it isn’t especially complimentary as far as your husband goes. No doubt he’ll be expecting nothing but compliments from us tomorrow, and we’re not harsh people, Grace, he’ll get them, but what he won’t be getting is our contract.’
She stared at him in horror.
‘You see, we’re honest people too, Grace, which is why we’ve not only made the decision we have, but why we wanted to share it with you too. Otherwise you might feel that you have failed in some way and nothing could be further from the truth.’
Riley leaned forward. ‘Your home is beautiful and your hospitality has been absolutely wonderful, perfect in fact. I wish every business trip could be like this—’
‘Hell, I even found someone who loves my favourite book,’ interrupted Zac. ‘But I’m afraid that we were never here to pass judgement on your skills, Grace, and I think you know that.’
Grace felt sick to her stomach. Of course she knew that, she’d known it all along, and worse, now that she had heard the words from Zac’s mouth, she realised that she’d also known that Dominic wasn’t going to get the contract, Paul wasn’t going to be their star. It had been obvious from Zac’s small comments, from the glances he had shot Paul. She bit back her shock and managed to nod.
‘Yes, of course…’ She found a smile from somewhere and dragged it onto her face. ‘And I’m very grateful to you, not only for your compliments but also for having the generosity to let me know that your decision has in no way been dependent on me.’
‘You’re in a very difficult position, Grace, we realise that…’ added Riley.
She almost laughed. You don’t even know the half of it.
‘… And we’re also a little concerned as to whether you’re going to be all right.’
Her head came up in shock to find Zac looking at her, a gentle expression on his face. He smiled softly. ‘The world of television is notoriously cut-throat, shallow and really not all that nice… although, I don’t think I’m telling you anything you don’t already know.’
He carried on without waiting for an answer. ‘The other thing this business is, is full of gossip-mongering, and so your husband’s… indiscretions, shall we call them, are not that much of a secret, despite what he believes. We’ve been aware of them for some time.’
She sat up a little straighter as the implications of Zac’s words ricocheted through her.
‘So it might surprise you to hear that there are still people who work in the industry who consider themselves honest, basically decent, and who at least know what the word integrity means.’ Zac thumbed his chest. ‘That’s us by the way, in case you haven’t worked it out. And so although Dominic
can potentially offer us a very good home for our show, I’m afraid that Paul is not the right face to go with it. We had our reservations before we arrived, but I’d hate you to think we were taking advantage of you. This weekend was all about checking whether Paul was the right man, despite what we’ve heard. It was about giving him a chance to prove us wrong.’
‘And he didn’t,’ muttered Grace.
‘No, he didn’t. I’m sorry.’ Zac looked apologetic. ‘We can’t in all conscience go with someone who we don’t believe in.’
‘No, I understand that.’
‘But, we also know that’s going to come as rather a shock to him… and we don’t want there to be any repercussions for you.’
Grace laughed, she couldn’t help herself. ‘Yes, it will be a shock,’ she said slowly, lifting her chin a little defiantly. ‘But don’t worry, I can look after myself. And you know, perhaps it’s time someone gave Paul a shock, he seems to be under the illusion that he can do exactly what he likes with no consequences.’
She met Zac’s steady gaze. ‘And I appreciate your honesty. In fact, since we are being honest with one another, I think it’s only fair that you know I asked Paul for a divorce a couple of months ago. He moved out the same night and up until Friday night I hadn’t seen him since.’ She gave a sad smile. ‘So, in a bizarre way it means even more that your decision hasn’t been affected by anything I’ve done. Paul has brought all this on himself and, if there’s any justice in the world, perhaps he’s just had his served.’
Riley was watching her, an astonished expression on his face. ‘Sorry… let me get this straight. You and Paul are separated and yet you still went to all this trouble for him? Why would you even do that?’
‘Let’s just say I had my reasons.’ Grace wasn’t about to share the details of the agreement they had made over the house. What was done was done and she wouldn’t want them to feel in any way awkward about their decision.
