Killer Affair

by Rebecca Chance

  Nodding in agreement, Caroline reached out a hand to him, and to her great relief, he took it. His fingers were dry, warm, enveloping hers, and he did not let go, but rested their clasped hands on the sofa between them.

  ‘You’re such a comfort, Caroline,’ he said, heaving a long sigh.

  Caroline hoped that he would notice how perfect her French manicure was – she had done it on the train, not caring about the irritated stares of the other passengers at the smell of nail polish – how smooth and moisturized her skin. She was dressed in an outfit which was part of an entire wardrobe she had bought for her newly slim figure; she would have loved to be able to wear really skinny jeans like Lexy’s, but the constant running on the sandy beach of Studland had given Caroline too much calf and thigh muscle for those. The jeans were close-fitting, though, showing off her newly slim legs, and over them she wore a V-necked T-shirt and loose sweater, both from Joseph on sale, the quality much better than anything she had previously owned.

  The bonus money had not yet hit her account, but Gareth had emailed to say how pleased he was with her for finishing before her deadline, and that, based on the quality of the previous sections of the book she had sent him, he was authorizing the payment with the accounts division of Bailey and Hart. On that assurance, and the knowledge that Lexy was planning to stir something up with Deacon in the next couple of days, Caroline had gone shopping very strategically for a new, fitted, elegant wardrobe that would hopefully see her through a stay at Sandbanks in Lexy’s absence.

  Caroline leaned forward, putting a little cleavage on display. That was the reason behind the V-neck T-shirts. She had learned from Lexy that when you were amply endowed, a V-neck was the best cut. It showed off your breasts by highlighting the cleavage, while the downwards point of the V gave the illusion that your waist was smaller than it was.

  Frank’s gaze could not help but flicker over the swell of Caroline’s breasts.

  ‘You look nice,’ he said naively, not realizing why that statement had popped out of his mouth. ‘Still working out? Did you find a gym in London, or are you doing park running, like I suggested?’

  ‘I joined a gym,’ Caroline said. ‘There’s a chain near me that’s really cheap, just twenty pounds a month and no contract. But it’s weird running on a treadmill – it feels so easy after doing it on the beach.’

  ‘That’s why I said park running,’ Frank said. ‘If there’s a grass track you can get to, that’s the closest to what you’ve been doing.’

  ‘There is a park not that far away,’ Caroline said. ‘I just haven’t had time to go over there and have a look yet – I only finished the book a few days ago, so . . .’

  She bit her tongue. Mentioning the book had been a mistake; it had brought Frank’s thoughts back from the delightful topic of how good she looked onto the much gloomier one of what his wife had been prepared to do in order to garner publicity for herself.

  ‘I just don’t know how she could do this,’ he said so poignantly that Caroline felt a lump in her throat. ‘No matter how much Emily tells me that it’s all for publicity, that he jumped Lex in the loos and she only kissed him back because she remembered what they were talking about in the meeting and thought it would work – how is that supposed to make me feel better? It’s obvious that she’s kissing him back! You can see that! And how come those women were in there photographing it? It looks like a setup to me!’

  ‘Did you see the video?’ Caroline asked quietly, and Frank’s hand tightened on hers, squeezing it almost painfully.

  ‘No,’ he muttered. ‘No, I couldn’t. Is it – is it bad?’

  Caroline lowered her eyes and fell silent, as if she couldn’t bear to say the words of confirmation.

  Across the room, on the desk, Frank’s mobile buzzed with a text coming in. This was nothing new; friends and family had been trying to get in touch all morning. But given the timing, and the fact that Lexy had not been in touch all day, Frank jumped to his feet, his hand dropping Caroline’s as he hurried over to the desk and grabbed his phone.

  ‘She’s at the Ferry Hotel,’ he said, looking down at the screen.

  ‘That’s unusual,’ Caroline couldn’t help saying. ‘She’s always so snarky about that place.’

  Frank gave a half-smile.

  ‘She’s saying she’ll wait till the paps clear out, and then can she come over and talk?’ he said, still reading. ‘She says she’s really sorry, it’s not what it looks like . . .’

  His voice trailed off, and Caroline remained silent once more, again seeming like a loyal employee who, unable to come up with anything in her boss’s defence, preferred not to say anything at all.

  ‘But it is, isn’t it?’ Frank said, not really as a question. ‘I haven’t even watched the video, but from what the media’s saying about it –’

  He looked at Caroline, who squinched her brows together and drew her lips back in an expression that conveyed, very clearly, that she did not want to describe what happened in the video to Lexy’s husband.

  ‘I really hope the kids never see it,’ she murmured, knowing this would trigger Frank. ‘I mean, just those photos of his jeans . . .’

  ‘Yes!’ Frank agreed furiously at this successful attempt at adding fuel to the flames. ‘He came in his trousers! He came in his fucking trousers while his hand was up my wife’s skirt! The little bastard – if I ever come across him he’d better run. Otherwise I’ll wring his fucking neck!’

  He stared down at the phone in his hand.

  ‘She must think I’m the biggest mug in the world,’ he said. ‘A total fucking mug. How can it not be what it looks like? They were humping away and then that skinny little dipshit came in his fucking jeans – what’s she going to tell me to explain that away?’

  But Caroline had the feeling that Lexy would think of something. She was so quick-witted, so clever, so able to wrap Frank round her little finger. Caroline had watched Lexy get away with neglecting her children, running rough-shod over Frank’s wants and needs, but then, just as Frank’s resentment reached boiling point, turning on her dazzling charm and heading any trouble off at the pass with a display of perfect wife and mother virtues that lasted just long enough to settle Frank down and allow Lexy to resume her selfish behaviour as before.

  If Lexy gained access to Frank now, she might well be able to talk him into forgiving her, letting her come home. And that would fatally scupper Caroline’s chances with him, which couldn’t be allowed to happen.

  Caroline found herself remembering a historical novel she had read recently about the six wives of Henry VIII. When the fifth one, young, pretty Katherine Howard, had been accused of adultery, she had screamed and pleaded, trying to get to his rooms and beg him for mercy. But Henry’s advisers had not allowed Katherine to see the king; she was so charming that they were afraid that, given access to him, she would use her wiles to convince him not to have her executed.

  Caroline needed to apply the same principle with Lexy. There was a wedge between Frank and his wife now, but this was only the start. If Caroline couldn’t drive the wedge in deeper, she would lose all the advantage she had gained.

  ‘But Frank, how could she explain the photos of Deacon’s jeans to the children?’ Caroline asked, looking up at Frank with big doe eyes. ‘That’s the worst part! They’ll see them sooner or later – no matter what we do, some kid at school will show them the pictures – maybe even the video – kids can be so cruel! I don’t even want to imagine how that’ll make them feel.’

  Frank dropped the phone to the desk and knuckled his eyes hard.

  ‘Oh God,’ he said. ‘I can’t think about that! I’ve always said to guys on the team who’re playing away that they’re scum for not thinking about the effect on their kids, and here’s my own wife doing exactly that . . .’

  The phone buzzed again. Frank gulped out a hopeless sob.

  ‘If it’s her, I can’t see her right now . . . Caroline, I can’t . . .’

  Caroline g
ot up and walked across to the desk, picking up Frank’s iPhone. Sure enough, the screen was showing another text from Lexy: ‘Frank pls pls ring me, pls, Im crying my face off, Im crying & so guilty, pls answer, need 2 talk to u NOW pls.’

  ‘I’m not sure if you should even look at these,’ she said, sounding sad. ‘There’s no explanation or anything for what she did—’

  ‘Like there’s any she could give!’ Frank said, his voice thick with tears.

  ‘She wants to talk to you, but—’

  ‘I can’t,’ Frank said again, to Caroline’s great relief.

  ‘I’ll just delete them and turn off your phone,’ Caroline said, pitching her tone between a question and a statement, so that later she could always say that she had thought it was what Frank wanted.

  Frank said nothing, which she took as consent. Swiftly, Caroline deleted the messages from Lexy. And then, her heart racing, she went to the Favourites list in his iPhone contacts. Pulling up Lexy’s number, she blocked it, doing it so fast that she didn’t give herself time to think about what she was doing. Lexy could text and ring as much as she wanted, to no avail: Frank would think that, discouraged and guilty, she had stopped trying to get into contact with him. The home phone was going straight to the answering machine, but that, Caroline knew, was already full from the sheer volume of calls that morning. Lexy would not be able to leave a message there.

  Had Caroline gone too far? Maybe. But Frank’s phone was always lying around. If she lost her nerve, she could easily unblock Lexy’s number.

  There and then, however, Caroline had no regrets. Turning the iPhone off, she set it down on the desk and pushed it away a little, symbolically creating a distance between Frank and his conduit to the world outside. She glanced over at the desktop computer and thought that later on, when Frank was safely out of the way for twenty minutes or so, she would log on and block Lexy’s email address too. In for a penny, in for a pound.

  ‘I’m so sorry this is happening to you and the kids, Frank,’ she said sadly. ‘I’d do anything to make the pain go away.’

  She was standing in front of him, looking up at him, her eyes wide. Tentatively, she reached out and touched his arm.

  ‘I could do with a hug,’ she said in the same small voice she had been using all through this talk. ‘Would that be all right? I know I’m not going through what you are, but I’m feeling pretty upset. I really thought she was a better person than this.’

  Wordlessly, Frank dropped his hands from his face. His handsome features were distorted by grief, his eyes red. Slowly he opened his arms, and equally slowly Caroline stepped into the space he had created, so close to him that she could feel the heat from his body. Tentatively, she wrapped her arms around his wide, solid chest, her heart racing faster than she could ever remember it doing in her life.

  The weight of his arms pulled her even closer, until the whole front of her body was pressed against his. It was the first time in her adult life that she had ever felt comfortable with a man’s body fully against hers, because it was the first time that she’d felt in reasonable shape. Her breasts, in a T-shirt bra that shaped them and pushed them up, were large and firm, and below them she no longer had a roll of fat. Her stomach was not flat, and never would be unless she got lipo, but she was seriously considering that option. Now that she had started to change her body, she never wanted to stop.

  Her bra straps weren’t digging into her, nor was the waistband of her jeans. If Frank should one day not only hug her like this, but run his hands up and down her back like a lover, it would feel relatively smooth. She wouldn’t need to flinch away with embarrassment for fear of him feeling how tightly cinched in she was, or dread red welt marks forming as soon as she took her clothes off.

  His scent was all around her. She pressed her cheek against his chest, settling there, breathing him in, and with exhilaration she felt his head lower, his jaw resting against her forehead, his breath warm on her hair. Tears started to form in her eyes. She was in Frank’s arms, exactly where she had wanted to be from the moment she had seen him. In the days to come, they would hug more frequently, comforting each other. And one day, when she felt his body language responding to her as a woman, not just a friend, Caroline would pull back, just a little, and tilt her head to look up at Frank, her lips parted.

  And he would bend down and kiss her. She knew it. She could tell by the way he was holding her, the way their bodies were relaxing against each other. When you had this kind of full-body contact, your reactions could not be faked. Frank liked holding her, liked being close to her, not just intellectually but physically. Look how long he was maintaining the embrace, much longer than a simple hug for reassurance and comfort. She could feel his heartbeat against her cheek, and she heard herself sigh as she relaxed even further against him.

  ‘You’re crying,’ he said into her hair, and she shivered at the sensation of his lips so close to her, the light, sensual tickle of his breath on her scalp.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbled. ‘I’m getting your T-shirt wet.’

  Frank slid his hands up her back to her shoulders, almost as she had fantasized about him doing. Looking down at her with concern, he thumbed the tears from her eyes. The intimacy made her tremble with excitement.

  ‘I hate that you’re caught up in all of this, Caroline,’ he said. ‘I’m really sorry you’ve got sucked into our mess.’

  ‘It’s okay, Frank,’ she said. Every time he said her name, it was a secret thrill; every time she said his, she felt it was as if she were casting a spell, drawing him into an increasingly intimate relationship.

  ‘Honestly, it’s all about the kids as far as I’m concerned,’ she continued. ‘I’m not even thinking about myself. I just want to make sure they get through this as best they possibly can.’

  Frank’s smile was all the reward she needed.

  ‘I was thinking – why don’t we try to take Laylah and London out for the afternoon?’ she suggested. ‘They’d love to spend some quality time with you, and I honestly think it would do you the world of good as well. You know what it’s like when you’re spending time with small kids – you can’t think about anything but them and all the questions they’re firing at you.’

  Frank pulled a face.

  ‘I’d love to,’ he said, ‘but where are we going to go? There’ll be paps hanging round the house for days, and they’ll follow us as soon as they see us going out—’

  ‘I thought we – I mean, you – could take the boat out?’ Caroline said. ‘I’ll happily come to make sure the kids don’t fall overboard! We could pack a picnic, have lunch and snacks if the weather keeps nice . . .’

  Frank’s expression cleared like the sky after a summer rain.

  ‘That would be great!’ he enthused. ‘It’s why I got the boat, to have family days out on the water. But Lex never wanted to come – she was always fussing about getting splashed or rained on and messing up her hair, or she was shooting off to London and couldn’t spare the time.’

  Caroline knew this perfectly well; she had heard Frank offer several times to take the family out on the power boat, only for Lexy to come up with one excuse after the other. The kids were too lively to be left to run around on the large boat without being constantly supervised, even with life-jackets on, so Frank couldn’t take them out alone; and besides, as he had plaintively repeated to Lexy, the whole point was for the four of them to be together.

  Frankly, Caroline wasn’t looking forward to it. She couldn’t swim very well, and although the power boat was generously sized, with a big covered indoor cabin and wide back deck, she knew that even in a lifejacket she would be nervous the entire time. But she would do much more for Frank than get on a boat for the afternoon and put a smile on her face as she handed sandwiches out to the kids and dried them down after they had taken a dip in the sea.

  ‘I’ll go down to the kitchen and get a picnic together, shall I?’ she said. ‘You go tell them what we’re planning? I can’t wait t
o see the excitement on their faces!’

  But frankly, the expression on their father’s face was all that she needed to make her wild with happiness.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Decades later, Lexy was still unable to look back on the day when she had been locked out of her own home without shivering with embarrassment and shame. She had sat on the balcony of her suite at the Ferry Hotel for hours, bawling her head off, a box of tissues next to her, blowing phlegm out of her nose, wiping her eyes repeatedly so that she could clear the tears away enough to check her phone for messages from Frank.

  Unfortunately, the hotel balconies were not only small but linked together. Lexy had had to fend off concerned fellow guests, naturally worried about the continual, heartfelt sobbing, calling over to ask her very politely whether she was all right, or if there was anything they could do. Lexy had managed to snivel a ‘No, thanks’ while waving a hand in a gesture that asked them to leave her alone, but she could hear them still talking in hushed tones, speculating about what on earth could have happened to make her cry like that.

  At least they didn’t know who she was. Lexy always carried a baseball cap in her bag, together with a featherweight viscose scarf, so light that it took up very little space. The cap was pulled down tightly on her head, sunglasses covering her eyes, and the scarf wound around her neck, up to her chin, leaving as little of her face visible as possible. She looked eccentric but unrecognizable. Just a crazy woman going through heartbreak, ruining the lovely sunny afternoon for everyone else.