A Year Like No Other

by Pauline Lawless

  Marilyn had been calling regularly asking for news of Taylor. He appreciated that she was concerned and had come to realise that he was wrong to blame her for Taylor’s predicament. Nobody had forced his wife to take drugs. She had chosen to do so.

  At the same time that Jazz was pouring her heart out to Brandon and Sophie was doing the same to Ashling, Yves was enjoying Marilyn’s favours once more. She was a tonic! She was funny and witty and, best of all, she wanted him solely for sex. She’d told him that Louis had asked her to marry him.

  “But, if I say yes, that doesn’t mean that we can’t still see each other from time to time,” she’d winked at him.

  She was fun in bed. The sex wasn’t as good as with Jazz but she was a nice antidote to Jazz’s intensity. He reckoned he had the best of both worlds. If he could keep this going it would be ideal. Jazz a couple of nights a week, Marilyn another one or two, and the weekends would be spent with Sophie, whom he really loved. Yes, life was absolument parfait – just perfect, he smiled smugly to himself.

  Brandon took Jazz and Ashling out for a meal on Saturday night and Jazz’s mood had lightened somewhat. Thank God she had Ashling for a friend, he thought. That girl was a rock of sense. He wished that Taylor could have made friends with the lovely Irish girl when she’d been here. She might not be where she was now if she’d had someone like Ashling in her corner.

  Ashling really didn’t know what she should do about Sophie’s revelations. Should she tell Jazz, or not? She wished Kieran was here to discuss it with her but he wasn’t flying back from Ireland till Monday morning and was then going straight to work from the airport.

  41

  On Monday morning after her gym session, Ashling went as usual to Les Deux Magots. She lost herself in her book and, over lunch with Corey, she told him about her dilemma, not mentioning any names of course.

  “So,” she finished up, “I honestly don’t know what I should do.”

  “If it was you, in your friend’s position, would you want to know your lover was cheating on you?” he asked.

  “Yes. Definitely,” Ashling replied.

  “You have your answer, then. You should tell her,” he said quietly.

  “Thank you, Corey. I will,” she replied, relieved that she’d made a decision.

  The women had started getting together once a week and tonight it was Ashling’s turn to have them at her place.

  Jazz knew that if Yves asked to meet her, she would be tempted to cancel Ashling’s and go to him. She texted him to ask him if he wanted to see her.

  ‘Sorry, chérie, can’t see you tonight. Have to stay home. Tomorrow night, your place?’

  Well, no decision to be made there then, she thought bitterly.

  “I nearly didn’t make it tonight,” Sophie remarked, as they ate supper. “Monday is Cosette’s night off and Nicole was busy. I was worried I wouldn’t get a baby-sitter but luckily, Nicole’s friend stepped in at the last minute.”

  “Is Yves not baby-sitting for you?” Jazz asked, curious.

  “Good heavens, no. Yves couldn’t stay in midweek to save his life. He goes out every night. I wouldn’t dare interfere with that.” She laughed but it sounded hollow.

  Felicity thought how awful it was that she only saw Yves at weekends. If Max was out every night, Felicity would kill him.

  “We have an open marriage,” Sophie explained. “We’re both free to have other partners as long as we don’t become involved.”

  Felicity gasped. She stared open-mouthed at Sophie.

  “Oh Lord,” she said, sounding distressed, “I could never manage that.”

  “I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to cope with that either,” Ashling agreed. “Is it not . . . difficult?” She’d been about to say impossible.

  Jazz said nothing.

  “Well, it seems to work for us,” Sophie mumbled, aware of their disapproval.

  ‘For him maybe,’ Ashling wanted to say, ‘but not for you.’ She kept mum.

  “He does spend all weekend at home with Pierre and me, though, so I can’t complain,” Sophie added. Although she was smiling Ashling could see the bleakness in her eyes.

  She also saw the puzzled frown on Jazz’s face. Please, please, don’t say anything, Ashling prayed silently. She was terrified that Jazz might let the cat out of the bag. Luckily, she didn’t but Ashling could see that she was pondering what Sophie had said.

  Jazz was very quiet for the rest of the night and when the others had left she turned to Ashling, who knew what was coming.

  “Ash, did you hear what Sophie said about Yves being out every night? He told me that he had to be home tonight and that he had to spend more time at home during the week but, according to Sophie, that’s not true. Why would he lie to me?”

  Ashling took a deep breath. “Jazz, I’ve been debating all weekend whether I should tell you this or not, but I was talking to Sophie on Friday and she told me that Yves is having an affair.”

  “She knows about me?” Jazz was shocked.

  “No, she says he’s having an affair with Marilyn, Taylor’s friend.”

  “Marilyn?” Jazz repeated, shaking her head in disbelief. “Why does Sophie think that?”

  Ashling wished that she could have done something to spare her friend the truth but she knew she had to be honest with her. Taking Jazz by the hand she told her, “Because she spied on him last Monday – the night you came around to me – and she saw him with Marilyn, at that hotel you told me about. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” She stroked Jazz’s hand in an effort to comfort her.

  Jazz looked at her, stunned. “He’s probably with her tonight, isn’t he?” she whispered. This thought devastated her. “Oh God, I’ve been such a fool,” she cried.

  “You weren’t to know,” Ashling consoled her. “He is very persuasive.”

  “No, I was a fool. I am a fool to have believed him,” she said, her voice low.

  “What else did Sophie say?” She looked at Ashling, her face stricken.

  “Well, she seems to accept that he always has to have a mistress but that he truly loves her.” Ashling hated having to say these words.

  “Mistress, that’s what he said I was, his mistress,” Jazz said bitterly, “but at least I thought that I was the only one. But he’s just been using me, hasn’t he?” she turned to Ashling, tears in her eyes. “I never meant anything to him. I was just another notch on his bedpost.”

  “Honey, I know it’s hard to believe right now,” she told her gently, “but even if he did love you, he wouldn’t have treated you any differently than he’s treating Sophie. He’s a serial womaniser and there will always be mistresses.”

  “I so much regret that I was one of them. Poor Sophie! How does she bear it?” Jazz looked at Ashling with a tear-stained face. “I feel so guilty about her. She was so sweet to me tonight.”

  “Yes, well, thank God she never discovered that you were one of his conquests,” Ashling said grimly.

  Jazz looked devastated as she got ready to leave.

  “Are you okay? Would you like to stay here tonight?” Ashling asked.

  “No, no, I’ll be fine, honestly. I need to think about this.” She looked in shock and Ashling wished she could do something to help.

  “Well, if you need me, I’m at the other end of the phone.”

  “Thanks, Ash. I’ll call you tomorrow.” She gave a grim smile. “I feel so betrayed.”

  “I know, honey. Try and get some sleep if you can,” she said, hugging her devastated friend. Bloody men, she thought, not for the first time.

  When Jazz got home she made herself a hot chocolate and, taking the duvet off her bed, wrapped it around her and went out to sit on the terrace. Sipping the hot chocolate, she thought about what Ash had just told her. To think that Yves had been cheating on her with Marilyn, the silly bimbo that Brandon and she had laughed about. Had he no taste whatsoever? He’d been with her last Monday night and probably again tonight when he could have been with me, she though
t. She started to get angry, firstly with him for his lying and then with herself for being such a bloody fool. No fool like an old fool, she laughed harshly. Well, at least she’d found out before she’d made a complete ass of herself.

  “Monsieur Yves, I’ve wasted enough of my life on you! Adieu! Good riddance!” she said aloud to the night sky.

  She didn’t get much sleep that night. She tossed and turned until daybreak, when she finally fell into a restless sleep. She would never meet him again. Nor would she let him know why. It would be small comfort for the dreadful betrayal she was feeling.

  Brandon noticed that Jazz was very subdued on Tuesday morning but he had enough problems of his own to worry about. His daughter, Mia, had rung very late last night and asked to speak to Taylor. He was running out of excuses to give her for her mother’s absence. He knew Mia was suspicious that all was not well if Taylor was still out at one in the morning. Although there was no love lost between mother and daughter, Mia was a dutiful girl. Her twin, Mike, on the other hand, believed whatever you told him.

  Bob had also rung last night and left a message to call back. When Brandon called him, it was to be told that Bob was getting more and more concerned about Taylor’s friendship with Dylan, the other patient at the clinic with whom she’d become friendly.

  “I can’t prove anything, but I suspect he’s getting drugs from somewhere. You know how money talks,” he said grimly. “Problem is, I think he may be sharing them with Taylor which means that her treatment here will be worthless.”

  “Oh God, what can we do?” Brandon asked him.

  “Nothing except keep an eye on her. She’s being very uncooperative.” Bob sounded pissed off.

  “Well, I appreciate all you’re doing, Bob. Thanks.”

  “No problem, buddy. Anything for an old friend.”

  Brandon felt that he should probably go home straight away but things were very hectic at work and anyway he would be going back to the States shortly for Christmas. Bob was being brilliant but, at the end of the day, Taylor was his problem. And he’d have to tell the kids then. He hated lying to them.

  Thank God for Chantal. He’d spent last evening with her and, loath to leave her loving arms and uncomplicated mind, had stayed much longer than usual. He longed to tell her his problems but was afraid that she might let it slip to one of her friends in the office and then it would be all over the building within minutes. No, he’d restrict his confidences to Jazz whom he knew he could trust. She was acting very strangely today, he noticed.

  Jazz kept her head down and spoke very little all day. She was still reeling from the disclosure of last night and when Yves came into the office it was all she could do not to hurl her computer at him. However, she kept her cool and greeted him civilly but kept on working, avoiding his eyes.

  Ashling had rung earlier and Jazz had assured her that she was fine.

  “Would you like to come around here this evening? Kieran is coming home early but you’re welcome to come and have supper with us.”

  Jazz knew that Ash had hardly seen Kieran in five days so she figured they’d need some time alone.

  “Sorry, Ash, but I’m planning an early night.”

  “Well, if you change your mind, just drop in.”

  “Thanks, Ash. You’re a pal.” Jazz thought what a great friend Ashling was turning out to be.

  She had arranged to meet Yves that evening but planned not to be there when he turned up.

  “Brandon, can you meet me after work and we’ll go for something to eat?” she asked.

  He had intended working late but something in her tone of voice alerted him that all was not well.

  “Are you not meeting anyone?” he asked her, nodding in the direction of Yves’s office.

  “No. That’s what I want to talk to you about.”

  Brandon wondered what the hell was going on. He’d noticed her coolness to Yves that morning. Well, he’d find out soon enough.

  Ashling could see that Kieran was exhausted. He had come home early, as promised, and they had a lovely family meal together. The girls were talking nineteen to the dozen, giving him all their news and he winked at Ashling who couldn’t get a word in edgeways. After he’d put the girls to bed she opened a bottle of red wine and they sat cosily on the sofa, ready to catch up on each other’s news.

  There was no change in his mother’s condition and she could go on like this for months, they said.

  “I feel like I’m chasing my tail all the time,” he said, “and I’m just exhausted. I feel like it will never end.”

  “It will, sweetheart. It’s a shame that this happened to your mother while we’re here. But you can’t change anything.”

  “I know. I did wonder if I should pack in this job and go back to Dublin to be near her . . .”

  “Oh no!” Ashling cried.

  “No, babe, don’t worry. I wouldn’t do that to you. I know how much you and the girls love it here, but I miss spending time with you.”

  “Honey, if you could get home earlier every night, then we could have many more evenings like this,” she suggested, gently. “You work too hard.”

  “I know. You’re right. I will definitely make a huge effort to leave the office by six at the latest,” he said, slipping his arm around her. “Now tell me, what have you been doing with yourself?”

  “Well . . . I’ve started writing a novel and a writer in the café has shown the first six chapters to his agent and guess what?” she cried, her eyes shining. “He thinks it’s good and wants to see more!”

  “My God, when did all this happen?” Kieran asked, stunned.

  “Well, I didn’t want to tell you until I knew I could write but Corey – that’s the writer guy – he thought my stuff was good and voilà!” She raised her hands.

  Kieran didn’t like the sound of this one bit. It must have taken her a couple of weeks at least to write six chapters and yet she’d never mentioned it.

  “Why didn’t you tell me before now, Ash?”

  “Darling, you’re never here and when you are you’re always so tired. I never really got a chance.”

  He sat looking into his glass quietly as she got up to pour some more wine. Was it really like that? Being honest, he had to admit that it was. God, he was a fool! He’d seen so many colleagues losing their wives and families because they were so caught up in business that they’d let things slip away. Well, he wouldn’t be one of them. He loved Ashling more than anything in the world. Without her nothing had any meaning. Yet, they were drifting apart – thanks to him. Things would have to change. He’d have to change, if he didn’t want his marriage to be one of those casualties.

  “I’ve decided that I’m not going to see my mother this weekend,” he said. “And I’m taking you out for a romantic dinner on Friday night.”

  Ashling clapped her hands. “Fantastic! There’s this cute little restaurant that my friend on the wine course told me about. I’d love to go there.”

  “Okay, you make the reservation,” he smiled at her.

  Finishing their wine they went up to bed where he made sweet, gentle love to her. Just before he fell asleep he found himself wondering what this guy Corey was like. He’d have to find out.

  Yves arrived at Jazz’s apartment to find that she wasn’t there. Perhaps she was in the shower getting ready for him, he thought smugly. She was always so fresh and clean and delicious-smelling. He couldn’t wait to be inhaling her gorgeous musky scent. He went for a stroll around the block, smiling as he passed the Hôtel de Lutèce. Marilyn had been in great form the night before. She had him almost exhausted. Ten minutes later he was back at Jazz’s ringing her doorbell again. Still no reply. Maybe she couldn’t hear the bell. He called her mobile phone and got her voicemail.

  “Hi, chérie, I’m here outside your apartment but you’re not answering. Can you let me in please?” He waited a few minutes. Still no reply. He rang again and left another voicemail. “Jazz, where are you? For God’s sake answer the do
or.” He was getting more irritated by the minute.

  Jazz was, at that moment, sitting in a restaurant in Les Halles with Brandon. She listened to the voicemails and smiled. She ignored them. Brandon wondered what the hell was going on. She still hadn’t mentioned anything about Yves.

  Five minutes later she received a text. “Excuse me a moment while I answer this,” she said to Brandon.

  ‘Sorry, can’t make it tonight. Jazz’ she texted back.

  “Now, would you mind telling me what all that was about?” Brandon asked her when she had finished texting and had turned her phone off.

  “Sweet revenge,” she replied, giving him a little smile.

  “On who? Come on, don’t keep me in suspense.”

  “You’ll be pleased to hear it’s on Yves.”

  She then told him about Yves’s betrayal and what she’d found out the night before.

  “The bastard!” Brandon cried, banging his fist on the table. “And with Marilyn, of all people. What a cad!”

  “I agree, but it was as much my fault for having anything to do with him,” she said sheepishly.

  “The main thing is that you found out now. Better now than later. I always knew that it would come to a bad end.” He shook his head.

  “I know, I know. Everyone warned me about him but I wouldn’t listen. Anyway, let’s forget about him now and enjoy our evening.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, concern in his voice.

  “I’m fine, truly. I’m over him. I have that much respect for myself,” she smiled tremulously at him.

  “Good girl! Now let’s order.”

  “Thanks for being here and listening,” she replied as she turned her attention to the menu.