The Other Wives Club

by Shari Low

  They’d docked just a few minutes before and Tess had watched it from bed, with Drew lying next to her tapping away on his laptop. The laptop. In bed with them. If Cameron was here, he’d say that was Drew’s version of a threesome. But she was turning over that new page so all thoughts of Cameron were banished.

  ‘I’ve booked an excursion today,’ she announced.

  Drew stopped tapping and looked at her with an expression that definitely wasn’t optimism. He hated excursions. Hated trooping along in a guided pack, at the mercy of other people’s schedules. But this one was different. She knew he’d love it, so she’d swallowed an assertive pill and booked it as a surprise.

  ‘Where are we going?’ he asked, his voice taking the Oscar for the least amount of enthusiasm in a single sentence.

  Grinning, she started humming The Godfather theme tune.

  ‘Tess, where are we going?’ he said, switching from lack of enthusiasm to mild exasperation.

  ‘That was your clue! It’s called The Godfather tour. We’re going to visit some of the locations used in The Godfather movies.’

  ‘Really? Sounds interesting.’ , OK, so he didn’t pick her up and swing her around with glee, but the reaction was at least slightly encouraging. The Godfather movies were his favourite cinematic experiences of all time and even now his box set got dragged out every Christmas for a rerun.

  At eight-thirty sharp, armed with water and sunscreen, and wearing comfortable shoes, they disembarked and headed for their designated coach, leaving the laptop back in the cabin and his second wife still on board. Tess had checked. Things were looking up.

  The tour guide was a petite Italian woman called Paola, who began by insisting that everyone repeat ‘buongiorno’ to her. Then again, but louder. Everyone else on the bus got into the spirit of it, but Drew stayed silent. He hated the panto stuff.

  The coach set off, beginning the journey with a drive around Messina, which, Paola informed them, was the third biggest city in Sicily. They stopped briefly to take pictures at the beautiful Sacrario di Cristo Re, a stunning church that Paola informed them translated to The Shrine of Christ the King.

  A Japanese tourist obliged by taking a picture of the two of them together, a beautiful, romantic gesture until the woman handed the camera back. ‘Ah, lovely family photograph,’ she told them in heavily accented English, before turning to Drew. ‘You and daughter very handsome together.’

  His lips tightened in irritation. Tess giggled and nudged him in the ribs. ‘Oh, come on, it’s not the first time. Lighten up, honey.’

  He gave her a weak smile and headed back to the bus. She was about to follow him when she was stopped by an, ‘Excuse me, would you mind taking a picture for us?’ She turned to see a sixty-something woman wearing white slacks and a pink T-shirt, with a wide smile under a sun visor, and perfectly pink lipstick. The woman’s accent placed her as being from the American south, and her hair was definitely the size of Texas. Tess loved her immediately. ‘Of course!’

  Tess snapped a shot of the woman with her husband, who looked like an aged version of an American astronaut from the sixties: tall, broad, with his side-parted, silver hair and eyes that still had a twinkle in them.

  ‘It’s our wedding anniversary,’ she told Tess. ‘Forty-five years.’

  Looking through the lens, Tess watched as the woman turned to meet her husband’s gaze and such a look of love passed between them that Tess’s heart melted.

  Forty-five years. What did it take to last that long, to spend that many years together and still love each other? There was obviously still such devotion between these two. When was the last time Drew had looked at her like that? She honestly couldn’t remember. He hadn’t even bothered staying with her while she stood outside the church, choosing instead to get back on the bus. When she joined him, he was deeply engrossed in his iPhone and didn’t even bother to glance up. Bugger. He’d managed to bring the iPhone. She should have insisted he left that behind with the laptop and the annoying ex. Damn, he was infuriating, but she wasn’t going to let this spoil the day. It would be fine. Stick with the optimism.

  ‘The Dweezil story still running?’ she asked, gesturing to the phone.

  ‘Yeah, just checking out what the other papers are saying. We definitely scooped that one.’

  ‘Great.’

  Absolutely great.

  The bus rolled on for an hour or so before climbing a twisting hillside road to the rustic village of Savoca. Paola herded them down cobblestone pavements to the Bar Vitelli, where Michael Corleone had asked Apollonia’s father if he could court his daughter. It was one of Tess’s favourite scenes in the movie. She’d first watched it with her dad when she was a teenager and then watched it time and time again with Drew.

  They sat at a table outside and ordered granita, a semi-frozen flavoured drink that Paola told them was a speciality of the area.

  Tess sighed happily and stretched in the sun. ‘This is amazing. I can’t believe I’m here. Seems so surreal.’

  ‘It does,’ Drew agreed. OK, now was the time for him to say he was glad they came. That he was enjoying himself. Perhaps even thank her for arranging it… ‘Bloody hot, though. How long do we have to stay here before we can get back on the bus?’

  Deep breathe. Optimism. ‘Don’t you want to explore? To go wandering around?’

  ‘Why?’ He seemed genuinely bemused. ‘Tess, we can see it all from the bus, in the cool air conditioning with no bloody flies buzzing around.’

  Right on cue, he swatted an insect from his face. Tess hoped it had time to bite him before meeting its doom.

  So much for flipping positivity.

  Irked, she ignored his repetitive checking of his watch and deliberately took her time with her strawberry granita, ensuring that they were the last people to reboard the bus. Drew wasn’t pleased and yes, she realized that the sense of satisfaction this gave her was very immature and very petty, but it felt like a small victory.

  Half an hour later, they stopped again, this time in Forza d’Agrò, a village on a mountainside that was overlooked by the ruins of a sixteenth-century castle on a higher peak.

  They followed Paola again, through the narrow, winding streets, this time stopping when they came to an ancient church that she recognized immediately. Michael Corleone had stood exactly where she was standing and now Tess Gold was there too – with a disgruntled husband, a nice Japanese lady, and an American couple who’d been married for forty-five years.

  Spine tingling, for a moment, Tess just wanted to stand and stare. It was so exquisite. So old. It took her breath away.

  The anniversary celebrant interrupted her thoughts. ‘Hon, will you take another photograph of me and Norm?’

  ‘Of course I will.’ Tess happily took the camera and snapped a gorgeous shot of the couple on the steps of the church.

  When she was done, she handed the camera back over. ‘Can you take one of my husband and me too, please?’ This would be a beautiful memory. The two of them, outside this church, one that they could look back on after they’d made it to forty-five years married. She would be 69 and he would be 90 by then – hopefully his eyesight would be too shot to spend all day staring at his iPhone.

  ‘Course I can,’ Norm replied.

  ‘Great. He’s just…’

  Tess glanced around, but Drew was nowhere in sight. He’d just taken off. Left. Done what he damn well pleased yet again without even telling her or suggesting that she come with him. His disappearance sparked a sudden realization: If things carried on like this, then after forty-five years together, all she would have to look back on was a lifetime of being alone.

  Mona

  Mona stretched out on the sunbed and sighed contentedly. This was bliss. Utter bliss. Of course, she was wearing factor fifty sun cream to protect against wrinkles and skin cancer, but the heat on her body was making her extremely happy. And extremely horny, she realized. It might even be worth tempting Piers back into the bedroom just for
a quickie. She inevitably closed her eyes and pretended it was someone else anyway.

  Taking a sip of her vodka tonic, she briefly wondered how Drew was getting on. The thought irritated her. What on earth had possessed Tess to arrange an excursion for them? And why had he agreed? Drew hated sightseeing. It made him miserable and grouchy and he always ended up wandering off on his own. The more she was around those two, the more she was certain that they had absolutely nothing in common.

  All Drew wanted to do was drink good wine, eat good food, have in-depth, intelligent discussions and work out until he ached.

  That thought sent a frisson of horniness coursing through her. It was incredibly crass, but she couldn’t help thinking that she would give him a workout that was far more effective than an hour on a stationary bike.

  But back to the point. Other than her obvious enjoyment of a large meal, Tess had no interest in any of the things Drew enjoyed.

  Her inner monologue was interrupted when she felt herself chill, and realized that Piers was standing above her, shading her from the heat of both the sun and her filthy thoughts.

  ‘Here you go, love, thought you might like a top-up.’ He put another vodka tonic on the table beside her lounger. She shouldn’t. She really shouldn’t. But it was already two o’clock and she was on holiday – two drinks wouldn’t kill her. She’d just work extra hard in the gym tomorrow morning to burn off the calories.

  With a loud grunt of exertion, Piers plumped down on the sunbed next to her and playfully slapped her thigh. She fought the urge to return the gesture with a non-playful punch to his face.

  ‘All right, pet? You look like one of those adverts for suntan lotion lying there.’

  There was a compliment in there somewhere. Her leopard-print Dolce & Gabbana bikini would come up great in a publicity shot – especially if their poster boy, David Gandy, was removing it from her with his teeth. Two David Gandy fantasies in one week. Ah, if only Mr Gandy was here and if only her bloody husband wasn’t sat there like a sweating whale, blocking her sun.

  Right on cue, the second of those wishes came true, when the doorbell rang and Piers went off to investigate. Mona rolled on to her front and rejoiced once again that their suite came with its own terrace and sunbeds. It was definitely preferable to lying on the public decks with all those kids running around, and large men called Chad and Josh shouting at the tops of their voices while playing water polo in the pool.

  ‘Good afternoon, stepmother, how are you today?’

  As always, hearing Max say that caused a bristle of irritation to cut right through all the serenity.

  ‘Max…’ she said, her tone one of warning as she looked up to see Max grinning back at her.

  He seemed to find this hilarious. ‘Man, you’re touchy. I was merely stating fact.’ He continued to tease, pulling one of the other sunbeds out of the shade. Piers was laughing when he handed over a cold bottle of Bud from the not-so-mini minibar. The two of them settled next to each other, both of them bare-chested and wearing black swim shorts, the difference in their physiques making the scene look like a before and after shot for a fitness campaign.

  ‘So, what do you reckon, Dad – who is the Old Firm going to sell in the off season?’

  It was difficult to suppress the groan. The Old Firm – the collective name given to Glasgow’s biggest football rivals, Celtic and Rangers. She immediately switched off, knowing that one question could spur a conversation that lasted for days. Really. Bloody days.

  Her mind drifted back to her earlier ‘Drew and Tess’ train of thought, and an image of a highly pissed off Drew came into her head. Yesterday’s conversation with him had thrilled her. There were clearly irredeemable cracks in his marriage to Tess and it was time they both realized that and called it a day. What was the point in flogging it to death? Far better to cut their losses and move on, to find (or re-find) someone that would make them happy.

  They just needed to accept that they wanted different things. That was the key to this. What was taking them so long to see that? Let’s speed it up, people, move it along.

  An idea began to form in her head and she pondered it for the next few minutes, weighing it up and thinking through the logistics of it.

  It could work, she decided. Or at least, help things along a little. And she was nothing if not helpful… especially when it came to getting what she badly wanted.

  ‘Max, do you have any plans for tomorrow?’

  Her stepson shook his head. ‘Not yet. To be honest, I’ve lost track of where we’re going to be.’

  ‘Naples,’ she replied.

  ‘Cool.’

  Oh bloody hell. Cool? Was that all he had to say? She’d been hoping he would at least pick that up and run with it a little.

  ‘I once went to a stag night there. Helluva night. Lasted for a week.’

  Mona chose to ignore her husband’s contribution. ‘I was reading the excursion planner for tomorrow and I noticed that they do boat trips to Sorrento, and there are all sorts of water sports involved. That’s your kind of thing, isn’t it?’

  Max winced in jest. ‘I don’t know. Dad’s jet ski nearly killed me.’ He turned to his father. ‘What happened to the jet ski after we left Palma?’

  ‘Sent it back to the golf club and told them to sell it for the donkeys.’

  For some reason this caused both men to collapse, hooting with laughter.

  Suppressing an exasperated sigh, she nudged Max back on track, while trying to appear nonchalant. Any direct encouragement could arouse Pier’s suspicions. ‘It’s up to you, but apparently there’s the option to get a boat over to Sorrento, then drop anchor and spend the day trying out different sports. I just thought you might like that.’

  ‘If you fancy it, son, I’d definitely be up for tagging along,’ Piers offered.

  Bonus! Peace and quiet, thanks to having no Piers all day. This could work out even better than she planned. All she needed was for Max to say…

  ‘Sounds great. I’ve never been snorkelling or windsurfing and always fancied trying it. You might want to notify the travel insurance company that a medevac situation could be imminent.’

  That sent the two men off again. Honestly, she just didn’t get their sense of humour at all.

  She waited until they’d settled.

  ‘In fact,’ she declared as if she’d just thought of the idea, ‘you should see if any of the rest of the group want to go with you. I’m sure some of them will be up for a bit of adventure.’

  Sarah

  ‘Guess where I am?’ Sarah demanded, holding her mobile phone against her ear with her shoulder so that she could release her hands to sign the bill that Daisy, Hong Kong was holding out for her.

  ‘In bed with a Russian body builder,’ Patsy replied.

  ‘Nope,’ Sarah giggled.

  ‘At a Mafia training camp in the Sicilian hills?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘OK, that was my two best shots. Where are you?’

  ‘In a beautiful bar, on the top deck of a ship, overlooking the sea.’

  ‘Oh. The Mafia training camp would have impressed me more.’

  ‘I’m not done,’ Sarah scolded her. ‘I’m in a beautiful bar, on the top deck of a ship, overlooking the sea, waiting for a cowboy that I kissed the face off last night.’

  Via the technology of the mobile phone, Daisy, Hong Kong was treated to a screech all the way from Glasgow. Sarah flushed red and giggled.

  ‘You win. Tell me all,’ Patsy said when she eventually calmed down.

  Sarah settled back into her chair and pulled her legs up beneath her. Most people were heading back into their cabins after a day in the sun, so other than Daisy, who was now out of earshot, she was all alone in the bar, leaving her to be utterly indiscreet.

  ‘OK, but first of all I have to tell you, Mona has no pubic hair.’

  ‘I don’t even want to contemplate how you know that, but eeew.’

  ‘Thank you. I knew you would feel that w
ay too. Anyway, the cowboy.’

  ‘Does he do stripograms dressed as the Lone Ranger or something?’ Patsy asked, confused.

  ‘No, he’s an actual cowboy. Wears the boots and the hat and everything. Comes from Nashville. He’s called Nate and he’s the most charming man I’ve ever met. He reminds me of Tim McGraw.’

  ‘Oh crap, I’ll never see you again,’ Patsy said.

  ‘Last night we had dinner out on deck and then he asked me to dance, so I did. Not on an actual dancefloor, just out on the deck, under the stars, just the two of us. Then he walked me back to my cabin and kissed me again at the door like a total gentleman. Is this too sickly-sweet?’

  ‘Absolutely. And I love it.’

  ‘It was really nice, Pats. Really nice.’

  ‘Well, I watched a double bill of Law & Order, so I want your life instead of mine. Seriously, Sarah, I’m so happy for you. It sounds completely blissful – apart from the bit where you viewed Mona’s lack of a bush, obviously. That may crop up in future nightmares.’

  Giggling, Sarah said, ‘I miss you, Pats. I wish you were with me – we’d be having such a great time.’

  ‘Sounds like you’re doing just fine by yourself, my darling.’

  Over to her right, Sarah spotted Nate coming through the heavy glass doors. ‘Have to go, he’s here.’

  ‘Send me a picture.’

  ‘I’ll try. Huge hugs!’

  She’d just snapped the phone shut when Nate reached her table and leant down to kiss her on the cheek. The cheek. He was so chivalrous.

  ‘How’s your day been?’ he asked her, as he signalled to Daisy for a bottle of beer. Sarah had no idea how the staff remembered what everyone drank – they must all have photographic memories.

  ‘Great. Really great. I sunbathed a bit this morning and then took the children swimming in the afternoon. I’m loving spending so much time with them. What about you?’

  He went on to tell her how the whole family went to Mount Etna, something that his grandchildren thought was amazing.