Cruel Venus

by Susan Lewis

  ‘Allyson, don’t make me say things that are only going to hurt you more,’ he said.

  Dread of what they might be whipped through her heart. ‘You don’t have to,’ she sobbed. ‘All you have to do is tell me you’re not going.’

  ‘I have to go,’ he said softly. ‘I’m sorry, but I have to.’

  She was in chaos. She didn’t know what to do. All her calm and rationale was in pieces, blown apart by desperation and panic. If only it didn’t feel as though he was tearing everything out of her, maybe then she could find some final shreds of dignity to hang onto. Something to reassure her that it would be all right, that this was just something they were having to go through, but it wasn’t the end. He might have to go now, but he would be coming back. He had to come back because they were too much a part of each other, too deeply connected, to be torn apart like this. ‘If you love me at all,’ she said, ‘you won’t go.’

  He looked down at her, and a long time seemed to pass before his decision not to answer made him turn away.

  ‘I don’t know you,’ she choked. ‘Who are you? You’re not the man I married.’

  ‘If you knew how much …’ He stopped and shook his head.

  ‘How much what? You love her?’

  ‘That wasn’t what I was going to say, but …’ He looked at her again. ‘Don’t make this any worse for yourself,’ he said.

  Allyson’s eyes closed. There was such a terrible wrenching in her chest that it was making it hard to breathe. She felt dizzy, disoriented, as though she was floundering around in a darkness that knew no end. She didn’t even know she was crying as she said, ‘Don’t you care what this is doing to me? Don’t I matter to you at all any more?’

  His grey eyes looked sadly into hers. ‘Of course you do,’ he said.

  The terrible pain of his admission trampled what was left of her hope. ‘But she matters more?’ she said.

  Still he looked at her. Then finally he whispered, ‘Yes.’

  Her legs suddenly felt so weak she thought they would crumple, but somehow she managed to turn and walk away. She saw her brandy where she had left it, next to the bed, and going to pick it up she carried it through to the sitting-room, not really knowing what she was doing, or where she was going. She stared down at the drink, glinting in the moonlight. She could hear him moving about, putting things into a suitcase. Panic was rising like a storm inside her. A scalding heat burned through her head, a terrible confusion of loss and survival. She didn’t know what to do, how to make any of this stop.

  He came into the room. She turned to face him and seeing him dressed, ready to leave, she let the glass slip from her fingers. It fell onto the sideboard but didn’t break, just turned over and spilled the brandy. She gazed down at the liquid. She couldn’t let him go. He was her husband. She loved him and she’d rather die than let him walk out of that door. ‘Don’t go,’ she whispered. ‘Please. Don’t go.’ When he didn’t answer she turned to look at him.

  ‘Stop. Don’t beg,’ he said.

  Her fists were suddenly clenched. ‘I will. I’ll beg. I’ll do anything to make you stay. We need to talk. We should discuss this and try to find a way to work through it.’

  ‘There isn’t a way.’

  ’No! Don’t say that! I’m your wife. I love you. I can forgive you for this. We can …’

  ‘It’s over, Allyson. You have to move on. We both do.’

  Bitterness made a sudden surge through the misery and pain. ‘Oh God, such a hip little phrase,’ she spat. ‘What comes next? Closure? We have to have closure?’ She put a hand to her head and felt another debilitating swing of emotion. ‘I don’t know what I’m saying,’ she sobbed. ‘I don’t know what’s coming out of my mouth. I just know that I can’t let you walk out that door. Bob, I don’t want you to go. Please!’ She looked at him with dark, frightened eyes and willed him with all her might to stay.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, and picking up his case he let himself quietly out of the door.

  It was as though he was dreaming. Any minute now he would wake up and find that none of this was happening. He wasn’t in his car, driving over to Tessa’s. He hadn’t just walked out on his wife of eighteen years, nor was he adrift from his emotions as though he was no longer in his body, only beside it.

  Yet why would he want to wake up from this? He was free now to be with Tessa as often and for as long as he liked. It was what he wanted, and when everything finally settled down he knew he would find he had done the right thing, for everyone. It wasn’t that he didn’t love Allyson any more, because he did. It just wasn’t in the same way she loved him. For over twenty years he’d put her first, always considering her needs, doing things the way she wanted, keeping his affairs secret to make sure she never got hurt. And why would he want to hurt the woman he loved? He didn’t. He just wanted to move on to this new phase of his life now, and be with Tessa, who needed him and loved him, who valued him for the man he was, and who mattered so much to him now he’d rather die than be without her.

  Allyson was still staring at the door, the one he had closed, though her eyes were only seeing the terrifying, empty space he had left behind. A few minutes ago he had been there, she could still smell him, hear him, feel him, even. It was as though he had turned into a ghost, a presence she could sense, but not see. She wanted to be strong, she wanted to believe that they really would get through this, that he would come back, but right now she was so afraid she could barely make herself think. Except she was thinking, and the thoughts that were tearing through her mind, dragging such painful and torturous images with them, were so horrible and disturbing she wished to God she could make them stop. But her imagination had a will of its own, and it seemed determined to show her everything the way it might be, sparing her nothing. The worst was being able to see Bob going to Tessa, walking in the door and pulling her into his arms as he told her they could start their lives together now. She could see his big, strong body naked with Tessa’s, holding her close, making her look at him, making her adore him … She could hear them groaning, sense their passion, then hear them laughing and doing all kinds of things together that he’d always done with her. His lips would be kissing Tessa’s now … She pressed a fist to her mouth to stifle a sob. He was hers. He didn’t belong to anyone else, so why was this happening? How could Tessa have done this to her? Why hadn’t she rejected him when he made a pass at her? Or maybe Tessa had initiated it. Maybe Tessa really was someone she didn’t know, someone she should be afraid of, whom she should never have taken into her life. Maybe beneath that shy and anxious exterior there wasn’t only the sparklingly confident young girl they sometimes glimpsed, maybe there was some manically deranged she-devil capable of all kinds of damage and disruption …

  Her breathing was changing again, becoming faster and heavier, labouring in her chest and seeming to ladle more adrenalin and emotion into her heart. Her head was starting to spin and she could feel a hot, uncontrollable rage spiralling through her. That treacherous little bitch! How dare she do this! Just who the hell did she think she was, even to enter into the sacred arena of her boss’s marriage? She should be grateful she ever got a job, that someone like Allyson even took an interest in her, because there were plenty of others Allyson had to choose from. And there would be plenty more, because there was just no way she was keeping her job now. She’d rather kill the girl than have to go on seeing her every day, imagining her with Bob and knowing they were getting on with their lives in a way she never could. And maybe that was the most frightening of all, the way she could see herself heading into a total breakdown if he didn’t come back. And it could happen. She’d seen enough of her friends go through it, and right now she couldn’t even get herself to go into the bedroom, she was so afraid of the emptiness and pain that were waiting. But that was nothing compared to the way the press were going to pounce on this tomorrow … Oh God, how was she going to handle that? It was all going to become public. Everyone was going to know and while Tes
sa had Bob to help her through it, she was going to be alone, trying to be strong without him …

  ‘Shelley,’ she said into the phone.

  ‘Allyson?’ Shelley sounded sleepy. ‘What time is it?’

  ‘I don’t know. Shel …’ She tried again. ‘Shel, he’s …’

  ‘It’s OK, I’m on my way. Just pour yourself a stiff drink and stay in the kitchen until I get there.’

  Allyson had gone through more than half a bottle of wine and another three circuses of emotion by the time Shelley arrived, which happened to be at a point when Allyson definitely had all the balls in the air and was clearly determined to keep them there.

  ‘I feel so embarrassed now,’ she said, ‘calling you up in a state like that. I’m fine really. But now you’re here, would you like a drink?’

  ‘Just coffee,’ Shelley said, ‘and the same for you. Hangovers are the worst for dealing with something like this. My God! Did you drink all that whisky?’ she cried, seeing the near empty bottle over by the fridge.

  Allyson turned to look at it. ‘No,’ she said. ‘Bob was drinking before he left.’ Those words almost made her drop one of the balls, but then Shelley was saying, ’Well, we don’t want you both hitting the bottle, and we know for certain he will. Now you sit there, and I’ll put the kettle on.’

  ‘I feel really terrible about this,’ Allyson said, sitting down at the table. ‘I mean, I know it’s going to be all right. He’ll come back, but it’s just a bit tough, you know, tonight … And hearing it wasn’t the greatest thrill I’ve ever had, but in a way I was expecting it. Well, you know that because I’ve been telling you for ages that I think he’s about to start going through the male menopause and I’ve always sworn I’ll stand by him, which I will, but right now I want to kill him. But it’s OK, because I might go off my top a bit when it happens to me, and I know he’ll be there for me. So I’m going to be there for him and before you know it, we’ll be looking back on this and laughing. Well, maybe not laughing, but you know what I mean. And I was thinking earlier that maybe we should sack Tessa, but now, on reflection, I don’t think we should. I mean I hate the girl, and I want to smash her silly face in, but we could have a …’

  ‘Allyson, shut up,’ Shelley said gently. ‘You’re still in shock and nothing you say tonight is going to make any sense to you in the morning. What you are going to need to prepare yourself for, though, is the press. They’re going to get hold of this so fast that it wouldn’t even surprise me if they already know. So, I think you should take some time off …’

  ‘No! I’m not taking time off!’ Allyson protested. ‘I’d rather die than let either of them think this was getting to me. Oh no. I’m going to be on that screen tomorrow night, and I’m going to be my usual dazzling self, and let him see that I can survive very well without him, thank you very much.’

  Shelley’s expression was as sceptical as her reply. ‘I’m sure you can,’ she said, ‘but you’ve never had any practice at losing someone you love, and I’m sorry to tell you that from here, it only gets worse.’

  ‘That may be so,’ Allyson replied bravely, ‘but I can handle it. I’ve got you, and I’ve got my job, and I don’t intend to let either of you down. So I’ll be there tomorrow, and if she’s there too, I’ll … I’ll … smash her fucking face in, is what I’ll do.’

  Shelley burst out laughing. ‘That’s the spirit,’ she said. ‘But in my opinion, if anyone’s face needs smashing in, it’s his.’

  Allyson was up for being rash. ‘Then I’ll smash his in too,’ she declared. ‘And I’ll show him that I actually don’t need him. In fact, I might not even take him back when he wants to come. Do you think I should tell him that? I’ve got Tessa’s number, I could call …’

  ‘No,’ Shelley said. ‘I don’t think you should call right now. I think you should just drink this coffee and then try to get some sleep.’

  At that all the balls plummeted to extinction. ‘I can’t go to bed without him,’ Allyson said, tears starting in her eyes. ‘I know it sounds pathetic, but I just can’t.’

  ‘It’s OK. I brought some things with me,’ Shelley said. ‘I’ll sleep in one of the guest rooms, so if it gets unbearable in the night I won’t have so far to come to rescue you.’

  Allyson gave a shaky smile. Nothing was feeling very copable with now, but it was good that Shelley was staying. And it would be good if she went to work in the morning too, because there was just no way her pride could handle it if Tessa managed to turn up and she didn’t. But how the hell was she ever going to get to sleep knowing that Bob wouldn’t be there in the morning – that he would be in someone else’s bed?

  Chapter 5

  THE PAPERS WERE full if it. Every time Allyson turned on the TV or radio it seemed that they too had little else to discuss but the break-up of the Jaymes’s marriage. The desertion of a near-forty-year-old woman for a teenage girl was simply too delightfully salacious to pass over, especially when it concerned two such well-known faces. It was as though the entire nation had become obsessed with it. Her phone never stopped ringing. Journalists and photographers she’d always considered friends were constantly crowding her in the street, demanding to know how she was, if she had anything to say, or if she would take Bob back. She never made any comment, but how dearly she sometimes wanted to scream at them for their obtuseness and stupidity.

  The windows of her flat had become the focus of telescopic lenses. Shots of her getting into her car, going into a shop, arriving at the office, were all making the front pages. Her mother was photographed too, at the chemist collecting sleeping pills for her father that the headline claimed were for Allyson. Even the people in the village where she and Bob had their country home were being dug out of their cottages and asked to comment on the break-up. She was under siege, not only in her private life, but in her professional life too, as the programme ratings had shot through the roof. Everyone was watching, looking, she supposed, for signs of how she was handling this. Inwardly she wasn’t. But outwardly she was doing everything she could to make it look as though she was on top of the situation and perfectly able to cope.

  Achieving that front was the most difficult undertaking she’d ever been faced with, especially when all she wanted was to die, or at the very least to hide from the world and pretend that none of this was happening. She was still in shock, she knew that, but it didn’t make the pain, or the longing, or the horrible desperation that threw her into all kinds of madness any the less. There were so many times when all she wanted was to scream and scream, as though the noise would drive out the pain, or would maybe even reach him and make him come back to save her, before she went under. She even considered telling him she had cancer, or she was pregnant, or she would kill herself if he didn’t come back. Anything to get his attention, to know that he still cared, maybe even still loved her.

  But she did none of it. She simply slipped from one moment to the next, and prayed with all the might in her soul that he would come to his senses soon and end this terrible pain she was suffering, for having to go through it at all was bad enough, but having to go through it publicly was nothing short of torture. Yet in its way it was probably the spotlight that was saving her, for knowing that the whole world was watching her, waiting for her to go to pieces, was what forced her out of bed in the morning and somehow, miraculously, held her together through the day. The nights were a whole different story and she was coming to dread them like she had never dreaded anything in her life. Every minute, every second, was spent either tearing herself apart in grief and denial, or waiting for the phone to ring, bringing the call that would tell her he had made a mistake and was coming home. She’d lost count of the number of times she’d called Tessa’s, but she only ever got the machine and couldn’t bring herself to leave a message. She guessed they were there, but were screening their calls, just as she was, in order to avoid the press. She tried several times to get hold of him at work, but that wasn’t getting her anywhere either, because unl
ess his colleagues were lying to her he hadn’t spoken to any of them since the day the news had broken. And knowing that he and Tessa were holed up together, and had each other to help them through this, hurt beyond almost anything else.

  Two weeks passed and still Tessa didn’t come into the office. Nor did she call. They were difficult weeks for everyone, as the whole team was being bombarded by the press, and no-one knew quite how to behave towards Allyson. She was so pale and drawn that whenever they were around her they spoke in hushed tones as though she were ill. And if anyone caught her eye she was treated to looks of such sympathy it made her feel like screaming. She didn’t want to be this object of pity. She wanted them to laugh around her and tease her the way they always did, even though she didn’t have it in her to respond.

  ‘If firing the girl wasn’t going to land us in even deeper hot water, I’d go right to Stella,’ Shelley said.

  Allyson shook her head. ‘You know we can’t do that,’ she said. ‘If we do there’s a chance she’ll sue, and that kind of publicity I can definitely do without. Besides, it’ll just turn me into the villain and right now, I don’t think I could handle that either.’ Her face was gaunt and strained and the trauma of the last two weeks was etched deeply around her eyes, one of nature’s cruelties that had not been missed by the press.

  Shelley went to refill their coffee cups. They were in Allyson’s dressing room, where they’d spent a lot of time lately, even sleeping there one night when Allyson had been unable to face going home, and they’d both drunk too much to drive.

  ‘We still don’t know for certain that she will be coming back,’ Shelley said.

  ‘Oh she will,’ Allyson responded. ‘Don’t ask me how I know that, I just do.’ She took the coffee Shelley was handing her and turned to look at the TV monitors. ‘I should start getting ready for the studio,’ she said.