The Other Wives Club

by Shari Low

  But the bottom line was she hadn’t behaved particularly well so she should really give him a kiss and apologize. However, the thought of any movement made her want to lie in a dark room. ‘Hey, we’re moving.’

  He glanced back up from his laptop. ‘You’ve just noticed?’

  ‘Sorry. I’m on a delay this morning.’ Why did her mouth taste like it had been sanded by a Black and Decker power tool?

  ‘It’s a sea day today. Sardinia tomorrow.’

  Oh dear. A whole day at sea, with Drew, feeling like this. This wasn’t good. This was her chance to spend quality time with him and she was like the last of the living zombies.

  ‘How did the story end up? Were you happy with it?’

  For the first time he smiled. ‘It was sensational. All the majors have run with it today, we made a killing on the photos and readership spiked to the second highest level this year. Only Wills and Kate’s wedding topped it.’

  ‘Fantastic.’ Three-syllable word. That made her temples hurt. ‘Well, I tell you what. Why don’t I brush my teeth, have a quick shower and we can pull up a couple of sunloungers and just lie out here today? A chill-out day. How does that sound?’ She couldn’t think of a single thing that would be better than a nice, easy day, with no stress, lots of privacy and at least four paracetamol.

  ‘Actually, I have to work again today. I’ve got conference calls lined up all afternoon. This is huge, Tess, and we’ve got to stay on top of it. I’m not letting anyone else come in and hijack it.’

  ‘Conference calls. All afternoon,’ she repeated in a deadpan voice, before realising that, surprisingly, she wasn’t feeling the usual twinge of disappointment.

  Oh well. Gift horse. Mouth.

  If he was going to be tied up all day then she could climb into bed with some hot tea and the new Harlan Coben novel. She’d been dying to get time to read it for weeks.

  Trying not to groan at the crushing pain in her temples, she pushed herself up and was immediately thrown off balance by a dizzy turn. She had questions, lots of them (how did she get home last night, who put her to bed, what must the others think of the fact that she got legless and did she totally embarrass herself?), but she had a feeling it would be better to wait until she could handle the answers before asking.

  Shower. Teeth brushed. Clean vest and knickers. Back into bed. Hot date with Harlan. The ultimate recipe for a hangover cure.

  ‘OK, well much as I’d love to blame the rocking of the boat and seasickness for my current state, I’m going to give in to the fact that it’s a raging hangover. I’m just going to get cleaned up and go back to bed. Shout me if you need anything…’ Inside her head was a little voice saying ‘please don’t shout. Please don’t.’ ‘…And feel free to join me later if you fancy snuggling up.’ Just don’t make a noise or any sudden movement because I can’t guarantee my reaction, she added silently.

  ‘Didn’t you get the note that was left on the table?’

  Her legs turned to jelly and she had to hang on to the back of a chair. This time she couldn’t blame the hangover. Note? Oh fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Hadn’t she asked Colita to make sure no more notes were delivered?

  Oh God, Drew knew. That’s why he was acting so cool. He knew about Cameron and he was furious. Drew didn’t do temper or irrational fury, he did cool, calm, deadly seething and that was what was going on now. Well she was just going to have to face it. She hadn’t done anything wrong. She’d just tell him the truth. Come clean. Maybe it would even help. Right, she was going to go for it. Please don’t be sick. This was no time for body fluids.

  ‘Oh. So you know?’

  He looked at her quizzically. ‘Of course I know. She mentioned it yesterday.’

  Mentioned what? Colita told him that she’d been asked to hold back the notes? Now it would seem like she was hiding something and— She sighed wearily – this was all too much. Where was Harlan Coben when she needed him?

  ‘What did she say?’ she asked, resigning herself to her fate.

  ‘That she thought you guys deserved a treat so she’d arranged for you all to meet at ten o’clock.’

  Wha… wha… what? She didn’t understand.

  ‘Hang on a minute.’ Slowly, gingerly, she made her way back inside and spotted the white envelope on the table. Heart hammering, she pulled out the handwritten note from inside.

  Spa day booked. Let’s meet at the Divine Bliss reception at ten o’clock. See you then. Mona x

  Her first reaction was ‘Yessssssss!’ A serious marital blip had just been averted. This was quickly followed by a second reaction of ‘Nooooooo!’ A whole day in a public place. With Mona. And a hangover. She preferred it when she was being tortured by Mr T. And she still had no idea what the A-Team theme tune thing was all about.

  She inhaled deeply, then exhaled. She could handle this. She could. After all, they were all grown-ups, weren’t they?

  Mona

  On the scale of people Mona wanted to spend the day with, Tess and Sarah ranked somewhere below the founder of Dunkin’ Donuts and that bloke who just got life in prison for eating his parents.

  It was a necessary evil. This was a tactical game and she wanted to get as much insider info as possible. Plus, her gesture of friendship impressed Drew and that wouldn’t hurt her plans, either.

  What she really wanted to do today was spend the next eight hours with Drew, working on the Cindy Trenchant story, but there was little more she could contribute and it would look suspicious if she lingered.

  No, her time was better spent with Sarah and Tess, finding out how the land lay and getting beautified at the same time.

  Not that she needed much work. She’d had her Botox and fillers topped up before she came. Nothing obvious – no startled eyebrows or chipmunk cheeks. She’d had her hair cut, conditioned and coloured, and every hair on her body had been lasered into submission. She’d come rather late to the Brazilian, but she loved it now. A shiver ran up her back as she contemplated what Drew would think of it. No, don’t go there. Not yet. Plenty of time to fantasize about that when it was closer to becoming a reality.

  The sooner the better.

  At dawn that morning, she’d given up trying to sleep and did a 10k run around the jogging track, because Piers’ snoring could be heard on any ship within a twenty-mile radius. He sounded like a volcano on the brink of eruption.

  Alas, that didn’t even come close to being the most revolting thing about him. The smell. By the time she got out of bed the suite smelled like a pub floor. He must have been seriously pissed last night when he got home. She hadn’t been there to meet him. She had only left Drew’s room when Max had appeared back with Tess, and by the time she got back to her own cabin, Piers was lying fully clothed, spreadeagled on the bed, snoring like a hog.

  So while a day in the Divine Bliss had the drawback of keeping her away from Drew, the fact that it meant she could avoid Piers was a definite bonus.

  As she entered the spa she checked her reflection in the corridor mirrors. All good. No bags under her eyes, despite the fact that she’d had barely any sleep. She deserved a bloody medal for putting up with that man.

  The deep mahogany door swept back to let her enter. She had nipped in and checked the place out yesterday and even as a connoisseur of spas, she’d been impressed. They offered a comprehensive list of treatments and the decor was absolutely stunning – gold marble floors, white walls, deep woods in a Balinese style that was complemented by intoxicating aromas of jasmine and coconut emanating from strategically placed oil burners.

  A beautiful oriental girl at reception smiled in greeting. ‘Good morning, Mrs Gold. Welcome to The Divine Bliss Spa. One of your guests is already in the relaxation room. Would you like to begin your treatments or wait until your other guest arrives?’

  ‘I’ll wait. Is there tea or coffee in the other room?’

  ‘Of course, Mrs Gold, and there’s also a selection of waters and fruit juices in the chill unit.’

  Mo
na nodded her thanks and headed in the direction of the other room. She’d bet her last salary cheque that it was Sarah who was here already. The older woman was always punctual, mostly, Mona suspected, from anxiety. She didn’t want to stand out, be centre of attention or cause controversy by keeping anyone waiting. Poor Sarah. She’d always been a bit of a wallflower. The woman had no idea how to assert herself at all.

  ‘Tess!’ As she pushed the door open, her surprise was evident. ‘No Sarah?’

  ‘Nope, just me. Thanks for arranging this today, Mona, it was a lovely thought.’

  Twenty years in journalism had taught her when words were coming out someone’s mouth despite the fact that their brain was thinking something very different. That was fine. She didn’t need Tess to be enthusiastic about spending time with her. She wasn’t particularly enthusiastic about this either. After all, she suspected that they were going to have a very major fall-out in the near future. Not that she would suffer a single sleepless night over it. In life, you had to go for what you wanted and if that meant stepping on the toes of someone’s… she spotted Tess’s flip flops before continuing the thought…. Primark shoes, then that was what she would do.

  ‘Thank God for this coffee. I’m on my third cup and only barely recovering my motor skills,’ Tess groaned.

  ‘Well, you’re doing better than my husband. He’s in a semi-comatose state and I suspect he’ll be that way for the rest of the day. What exactly did you all get up to yesterday?’ she added with a joviality that definitely didn’t reflect how she felt.

  ‘It’s patchy,’ Tess admitted, ‘but there was golf, then jet-skiing at the beach, then a piano bar and then… Like I said, it’s patchy. I feel awful. In every way. Poor Drew had to work and there was me, drunk and irresponsible.’ Mona could see that Tess tried to inject a bit of humour into that last bit but it fell flat. Well, well, well. So Piers had caused a rift between Drew and Tess. Maybe she had something to thank the old fart for after all.

  ‘Don’t feel bad about that,’ Mona said soothingly. ‘Really, don’t. Drew was just saying yesterday that a few hours at the coal face with a big story breaking was so much more invigorating than spending a day relaxing or sightseeing. Honestly, don’t worry about him. I’ve never seen him so happy.’ Rub. Salt. Wound. It was cruel, but she couldn’t help herself The more oil she could pour on these troubled waters, the better.

  Tess’s face fell and Mona almost felt sorry for her. Almost. God, this girl didn’t have a clue. Not a clue. She was like bloody Bambi, all big eyes and no idea that there was a ruddy great big shotgun just around the corner.

  Mona took a wheatgrass juice from the chiller and sat back down on the gold chenille sofa, pulling her legs up underneath her. ‘I hope you don’t mind me saying that, do you?’ She feigned concern. ‘I just wanted to reassure you so that you could stop feeling bad about leaving him. It’s your holiday, too, you’re supposed to enjoy it. I’m sure he’s thrilled that you had such a good time. I’m sure he was dying to hear all about it this morning.’

  Ding ding, round two. Mona knew Drew well enough to know with one hundred per cent certainty that he would have been furious that Tess had stayed out half the night with Piers and Max and then come home hopelessly drunk. As someone who never, ever drank to excess, he couldn’t bear a drunk woman. She also knew him well enough to guarantee that he’d given Tess the sullen, disapproving treatment this morning. This was too much fun. It was blindingly clear to her that Drew was unhappy in his marriage, so the more unsettled she could make Tess, the easier it was going to be on all of them in the future. Tess didn’t understand him. She didn’t get who he was and what made him tick. She’d be far better off with someone who was more on her… level.

  It was obvious that Tess’s aura was now infused with fifty per cent alcohol and fifty per cent misery. Time to play with that balance just a little.

  ‘You know, Tess, I really admire you. It takes a very special kind of woman to accept that she’s second place to a man’s job. I couldn’t do it. I’m afraid I need to know that I come first. Terrible character flaw, isn’t it?’ Her laugh was laced with mock self-deprecation. Bambi’s emotional pendulum just swayed sixty: forty to the side of misery. This was for her own good, Mona reminded herself yet again. The sooner Tess split up with Drew, the sooner she could find someone more suited to her. She was doing her a favour really.

  Much as Mona was enjoying the emotional manipulation, she wanted to get on with the day. The clock on the wall ticked round to ten minutes past ten. There must have been a serious problem for Sarah to be this late. Any minute now, she would walk in, all flurries of apologies and self-conscious blushing.

  At that very moment the door burst open and in she came, dressed, like the others, in a white towelling robe and slippers, with her hair pointing in so many different directions she looked like a barber shop floor. Mona braced herself for the gush of apologies…

  ‘I just want you to know that I appreciate you doing this,’ Sarah began. Yep, right on cue. ‘But I feel rougher than a badger’s bollocks, so I’ll give it a go, but there’s every chance I might have to bail out early and go track down a bacon roll and a hair of the dog.’

  ‘I hear you, Sarah,’ Tess concurred. ‘And I’m right behind you – just give me the nod.’

  Mona could hardly believe what she was seeing and hearing. These two were not only being chummy, but they were actively conspiring to spend more time together. Oh well, at least Tess would have an understanding shoulder when the inevitable came. After all, Sarah had been through exactly the same thing, so she would be able to dole out a side order of empathy with those vile cupcakes she insisted on bringing to every single occasion they ever celebrated.

  ‘I could murder one of your cupcakes right now, Sarah.’ Tess sighed.

  Bloody hell, it was like she was reading her mind. Cancel that thought. If Tess really could read Mona’s mind right now, she’d have more to worry about than the lack of cupcakes.

  Sarah winked as she plonked herself down on one of the comfy armchairs.

  ‘Sorry, luvly, but those aren’t allowed when you’re in The A-Team.’

  Mona had no idea what she was talking about and frankly didn’t much care. Today was all about gleaning information and improving her position. And if the price was spending the next few hours with women she had only one thing in common with, women from whom she felt absolutely no interest or respect, then it was a price she was willing to pay.

  Sarah

  Despite feeling tragically rough, Sarah’s spirits were lifted by the expression on Tess’s face.

  ‘Oh no,’ the younger woman groaned. ‘I’ve had The A-Team theme tune in my head all morning. What did I do last night?’

  ‘Played it on the piano in the bar and then announced to the whole world that you thought Bradley Cooper was a shag.’

  Mona’s wheatgrass must have caught in the back of her throat because she burst into a coughing fit.

  Just at that, a very tall blonde man in his early twenties arrived and introduced himself as ‘Sven’. Sarah noticed that his badge said he was from Sweden. No way. This took a Swedish massage to a whole new level of authenticity. Not that she actually knew what Swedish massage involved. Or a Glaswegian one for that matter.

  Sven showed them through to a large treatment room that carried on the Balinese theme, with white satin walls, a dark wood floor, and she counted four Bhuddhas. Three white leather beds were waiting for them in the middle of the room, each one covered in thick cream paper, with a luxurious, fluffy beige towel on the end. It must take a whole load of fabric softener to keep them like that.

  ‘Ladies, I’ll give you a few minutes to prepare. Please lie on the bed and you can cover yourself with the towel we have provided. It’s completely up to you whether you prefer to keep your underwear on or not. Your privacy will be maintained with the towel, and I promise I won’t blush.’

  Sarah felt a hot flush coming on. She hadn’t had one of th
ose since she hit the menopause at forty-five. But then, she hadn’t been naked in front of a bloke since then either, massage therapist or not. Knickers or no knickers? What was the protocol here? She’d be damned if she’d add to Mona’s smugness by asking her advice. Actually, she didn’t have to. Mona dropped the robe, revealing a honey-coloured, perfectly toned, spectacular body that had… do not look there! But where the hell had her pubic hair gone to?

  Sarah’s toes literally curled as she realized she was staring and – noooooo – Mona had spotted her looking. Sarah smiled limply then climbed on the bed and performed something akin to a circus act – it took great skill to keep herself covered with the towel while trying to take off a robe underneath. There was no way she was revealing her humungous M&S cotton knickers to Mona and even less chance that she was going to reveal the foliage underneath. The hot flush now graduated to furnace level.

  Over on the other side of Mona, she saw that Tess had very gingerly hung up the robe, then, with one arm covering her boobs, climbed on to the bed, wearing just a nude-coloured thong. Why hadn’t she thought of that? Not a thong, obviously. She never wore them, fearing that they would disappear into her buttocks and require surgery to remove. But she should have gone for something a little more modern than huge white granny pants.

  ‘Are you OK, Sarah? You look a little hot.’ Mona asked with an edge of smugness.

  ‘I’m fine. Absolutely fine.’

  Mona was physically perfect. She had the limbs of a colt and the boobs of a woman who had never had children and who had halted the aging process at 21. But why, oh why, was she still standing there naked? GET ON THE BED, WOMAN, AND COVER YOURSELF UP!

  Sarah felt a sudden tightening in her right thigh. Damn. The belt from her robe had somehow managed to get wound around her leg and it was stuck. The more she struggled, the more she got caught up. She was beginning to panic. There was no way she was now going to get up, remove the towel, disentangle herself from her robe, flash her large knickers to the world then lie down again, throwing her pendulous boobs over her shoulder to get into a comfy position. Nope, she was committed to this, even though she was fairly sure the overall image was one of two baby seals having a fight in a tent.