I leant back in my chair. Zak had always loved our traditional set-up – him out to work and me at home. Both his parents had worked full-time when he was little, and I got the feeling that Fifties-style family life was a fantasy he’d held for a long time. So why would he suddenly want me to earn?
A shiver slowly descended my spine. My voice wavered. ‘Is Elite Eleganz in trouble? Is that why you’ve been working so late? I assumed business was booming, but –’
Zak opened his mouth but nothing came out. Finally he nodded. ‘We’ll have to get rid of the Porsche. Forget holidays for a while. Cancel our tennis club membership. And April … I just don’t think we can afford the fees for Oakwood Towers any more. I’ve tried so hard to avoid this, but she’ll have to move to a state school.’
‘But April’s settled there!’ Was he mad? My throat went dry. Forget the material things and journeys abroad. April would hate moving. Leaving her friends. Being the new girl. ‘Surely we can work something out? Why didn’t you tell me before? And it’s mid-term … none of this makes sense.’
‘Sorry, Jenny,’ he mumbled. ‘I … I’ve let you down.’
‘You have.’ My eyes watered. ‘By not confiding in me all these weeks. Didn’t you imagine I could have helped, or at least shouldered the burden? I’m not just some piece of fluff who’s going to disintegrate if she can no longer afford Louboutins.’ My voice shook. ‘Look …’ I breathed in and out for a few moments. ‘Zak. Let’s think about this. There must be a way we can sort this out …’
‘I … I can’t do this. Not now,’ he mumbled and stood up, scraping his chair. Without a word he left the restaurant. My jaw dropped.
I scrabbled for my purse but Marco came over to my table, carrying my coat, and muttered something about paying next time we were in. I shot him a grateful look before navigating tables as I made my way to the glass door and hurried outside. Deeply I inhaled as the evening air hit my face.
Squinting through the darkness, I saw Zak’s suited silhouette pass The Coffee Club, with its jars of beans and glass-domed plates of cake. His hunched gait made him look unusually vulnerable, as he ended up at a small park. Not long after, I caught him up but he didn’t stop walking. And a creeping, dull sensation didn’t stop slithering across my body. What had stopped him from opening up, all these months?
‘Zak! Hold up! My shoes are killing me,’ I said, but he cut right, into the children’s playground and then stood still for a second, shoulders scrunched. From behind, I wrapped my arms around his waist, but vigorously he shook them off. With a shiver – despite my faux-fur coat – I sat down on a swing. A part of my brain noticed how different this swing was from the one in Marco’s restaurant, the one I’d been blissfully enjoying only an hour before.
I waited in the darkness. Gave Zak the time he clearly needed. Kicked off my stilettos. Eventually he sat on the swing next to me. Side by side – it was the closest we’d been all evening, and the breeze carried over a familiar smell, but I couldn’t quite identify it. I rubbed my nose and waited for him to speak.
‘I’ve messed up, Jen. Big time. Risked everything my parents worked for. And …’
A solitary orange street lamp lit up his strong features. I took a deep breath and smelt the damp, earthy evening air. ‘We’ll sort it out,’ I said firmly, determined to show him that all the support he needed was right here, in a little black dress. ‘Together. I promise. We’ll move somewhere smaller. Holiday in Britain. And don’t worry about Oakwood Towers. I’m sure they won’t expect April to leave immediately. That’ll give us time to –’
Eyes drooping at the corners, Zak suddenly looked every one of his forty-three years. ‘You don’t understand – we’re on the brink of bankruptcy. I’ve ploughed so much money into the new store we opened in Manchester. As it turns out, the location isn’t quite as dynamic as I’d predicted. Plus, our latest lines haven’t sold well.’
Bankruptcy? I almost laughed. No. He had to be wrong. He really must have blown his worries out of all proportion. That’s what happened when you didn’t share your concerns. Irrationality took over. ‘Oh, darling, the company has hit hard times before,’ I said, calmly. ‘This will just be a blip.’
‘It’s no blip,’ he snapped.
But Elite Eleganz couldn’t be broke. It didn’t make sense. ‘Okay. So why has everything fallen apart now?’
He turned away. ‘Bad luck, a big new competitor, and investing capital in a project someone pitched me when I should have ploughed it back into the business. I’ve had to let some staff go to cut costs. That’s why my work hours have been crazy lately, me covering for them. And I’ve asked around, tried to find investors, but they lose interest as soon as they see the books.’ He swallowed. ‘And … there’s something else, Jenny.’ Zak jumped off the swing and paced up and down.
I stood up too but without my stilettos had to stare upwards more than usual to see the expression on his face. ‘Whatever it is, I’m here for you,’ I said, gently. ‘You should have confided in me earlier, Zak. I’m your wife. It’s my job to be there for you when times get tough.’ My hair fell down to my shoulders. Zak tilted back my head, bent down, and brushed his lips against mine, before trailing his soft mouth down my neck. But his lips didn’t press hard like they used to and he drew back as if he, too, had been hoping for something that wasn’t delivered. My nose twitched … that smell again … I sneezed.
‘Oh, Jenny …’
I scrunched up my face as a sudden realisation washed over me. ‘Why are you covered in Chanelle’s perfume?’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘April came home wearing it after the party. It made me sneeze then too.’
He opened his arms. ‘Um … it must have rubbed off on me when I hugged my little princess.’
‘No. You showered and changed before you went out. I hung up your towel and clothes, which you left on the floor,’ I said, my voice gathering strength. I snorted. ‘For God’s sake, Zak. Have you been around to Chanelle’s first, to discuss your – our – problems? I may not be a businesswoman like her, but I like to think I’ve some degree of common sense and perspective that might have helped.’
Zak bit his top lip. ‘I just called around to pick up April’s cardigan.’
‘No you didn’t. You only said you spoke to her on the phone before, about her course.’
A strange expression crossed his face, kind of twisted, tortured. ‘Okay,’ he said in a strangulated voice. ‘She said it was for the best that I came clean; that’s why I suggested this meal … She insisted, you see …’
‘Come clean about our finance problems? Damn right! I couldn’t agree with her more.’
‘No … you don’t understand …’ His voice cracked, for some reason making my body shiver.
‘You’re not ill, are you?’ I whispered, hardly daring to voice those words. ‘Oh, Zak. What is it? Honestly. I can handle it. I’m here for you.’
He threw his hands in the air. ‘No, I’m not. Oh, God, Jenny, this is hard.‘ He swallowed. ‘You see, it’s helped … talking to Chanelle …’
‘Chanelle? Help?’ I shrugged. ‘But how? Granted, she runs a small beauty salon, but she has no experience of big business.’
‘It’s difficult for you to understand, Jen. You aren’t an entrepreneur. But the principles of profit and loss are the same however big or small your company –’
‘But she irritates the hell out of you with her celebrity crushes and happy-go-lucky attitude.’
He held his head in his hands again and then pulled those long fingers away.
‘I’m sorry, Jenny. Chanelle and I – we’ve wanted to tell you for a long time but my mind’s been on other things. Her business was on its knees so I helped her out with a loan, and then this season’s lines failed to make an impact so we had a common bond. Reproducing high-end catwalk designs for the bottom end of the market has always been our unique selling point but it just isn’t hitting
the mark lately. All I’ve been able to think of these last weeks is how to save our livelihood and Chanelle’s had some ideas –’
I gritted my teeth and held up my hand, a ball of heat scorching the inside of my chest. ‘Whoa! You invested in Chanelle’s business? It was you? Why did no one tell me? Why keep it a secret?’
He shifted from foot to foot as my mind suddenly focused on various bits of information. Like freshly divorced Chanelle’s unrefined joy on first meeting me in the school playground, when she found out I was married to ‘sexy millionaire Zachary Masters’ (her words not mine). How she pursued our unlikely friendship. Zak’s late nights ‘working’ over recent months. How his hair had looked uncharacteristically messy when he turned up at the restaurant tonight. How recently our sex life had waned …
A shard of realisation sliced through my body. My legs buckled. My hand rose to my throat and within seconds I was vomiting into a nearby bush. No. No! This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be possible. He came near to rub my back but I gave a muffled sob and jumped away.
‘How could I have been so stupid?’ I stuttered and gazed at leaves splattered with half-digested tiramisu, as the truth sank in. My chest squeezed tight as if my torso were wrapped in Spanx. Chanelle and I weren’t female soul mates, but hadn’t all those laughs, hugs, and lunches together counted for anything? Bit by bit my perfect life was crumbling – jagged chunks of it smashing through my ignorance.
As for Zachary … I felt as if I’d been held upside down and had all my insides shaken out. Then a blinding white light swept across my eyes as I pictured April’s broken face finding out what I’d just deducted. My jaw clenched and I span one hundred and eighty degrees. ‘No wonder you were starving for breadsticks.’ My throat felt thick. ‘So much for meeting with a French client – although I suppose you did get a leg over the Chanelle …’
I could hardly breathe.
‘So exactly long have you been shagging my best friend?’
Zak covered his face with his hands.
‘Tell me!’ I shouted, voice shaking. I didn’t do shouting. Not even when April was her most disobedient. But suddenly I had no control over my body, including my voice.
‘Why her?’ My arms shook as violently as my words. ‘Don’t you …’ My voice wavered. ‘Don’t you fancy me any more?’
Did Zak prefer her firm, round fake boobs? Her tumbling Baywatch hair? Could she make him moan with satisfaction and make him huskily drawl her name? My eyes pricked. He’d been my only lover. Was it inevitable that one day he’d want a woman who knew more than what he’d taught me?
All of a sudden I felt nineteen again. I stepped forwards and peeled his hands away from that heartbreaker face.
‘Why her?’ I asked again.
‘Don’t do this to yourself,’ he muttered.
‘Oh, don’t pretend you give one fig about my feelings. You’re a coward; that’s the problem. Too weak to give me a proper answer.’ I was amazed my words were coherent since my throat felt as if it was disintegrating, it hurt so much.
This wasn’t happening. Zak wasn’t a coward. I loved him. We were each other’s soul mates. I wanted to curl up into a tight ball and block out all the confusion running through my head. The hows, whens, and what ifs … The this isn’t possibles …
‘You really want to know?’ he said and threw his hands in the air. ‘Okay. You asked. Me and Chanelle … we laugh. Really laugh, you know? And talk business. She’s dynamic and –’
‘But I run Elite Eleganz’s charity projects. The house. Our lives. Don’t you dare dismiss that as if it doesn’t count!’
‘But you don’t take risks, Jenny,’ he shouted back. ‘You’ve been handed a cushy life on a plate and been glad just to eat off it, without hunting out your own food. When was the last time you put your reputation on the line or made a dream become a reality?’
‘Our family life was my dream.’ My voice faltered.
‘More like a comfort blanket.’
Blinking rapidly, I stared at him through the darkness.
‘Chanelle and me … we share that spark of ambition, to make money. You …’ His voice suddenly softened. ‘Oh, Jenny … you’re just a housewife. And it’s not enough any more.’
A cold, suffocating sensation engulfed my body and extinguished the fire in my belly. I stood rooted to the spot, unable to move. Unable to compute. Just a housewife? Just the person who’d lovingly created a secure family life based on the routines and cuddles and family outings intended to strengthen the bonds between us and our beloved child?
With an animalistic sob, I turned and stumbled through the night, his desperate, backtracking apologies going in one ear and out other. No physical weapon could have caused a deeper wound than those words. He’d reduced my life’s work – he’d reduced me – to nothing at all.
Chapter Three
I waved at April who stood on the white tiled bank, at the other end of the pool, queuing up with children to slide across a giant spaceship inflatable. After a deep breath, I ducked under the water and opened my eyes as I swam hard, avoiding a maze of bare legs that looked distinctly pale compared to the golden, airbrushed ones at the private fitness club.
The isolated, ethereal sensation reminded me of making love to Zak – the heady feeling that I’d left this physical earth and was tumbling through a black hole of pleasure. With my feet, I gave a determined push and shot up from the pool’s rough bottom. Cold air hit my cheeks and I gulped it in, like reality. Me. Zak. Chanelle. The love triangle I never saw coming. How could I have been so stupid?
It was Sunday and one week on from that meal out and the revelations in the park. I was trying to make swimming a regular thing. Cheap activities would be the order of the day from now on, seeing as Elite Eleganz was at risk of going bust. It was going to take a bit of getting used to – thinking twice before I took out my credit card or went to the cash machine.
I bobbed up and down in the water and stared vacantly at the big wall tiles. I’d texted Chanelle last week. Said I knew. Insisted we meet up. She’d refused. I should have known – a traitor and coward to boot. Zak told me not to contact her again. Tears welled in my eyes at the protective tone in his words.
Of course, it all made sense now. My mind computed. Christmas. The vouchers he’d bought me instead of the usual expensive present. February … he’d forgotten Valentine’s Day for the first time ever. Or had he? Chanelle hadn’t been able to hold back her excitement at receiving red roses from a so-called secret admirer. Easter. A lump formed in my throat. We’d simply argued over whether to buy April a rabbit. I’d said no, she had enough responsibility looking after her guinea pigs.
In fact, April had surprised me. Chanelle said that if my daughter was anything like Skye and the other girls, she would lose interest after a couple of weeks. But she hadn’t. Always fed them. Cleaned their hutch out regularly.
I squeezed my eyes shut and swam a width of the pool. Six months he and Chanelle had been together. For six months he hadn’t seen me as the sexy woman in his life. I’d simply been the mother of his child. The entertainer of his guests. The company’s charity organiser. And worse revelations had followed. I recalled a conversation we’d had on the Monday afterwards.
‘I still don’t get it,’ I’d said. ‘Wasn’t this what you wanted? The whole domestic set-up – marriage and children? All that’s missing is a white picket fence.’
‘All I ever wanted was you, Jen. Of course I adore April, but kids, nappies, parents’ evenings … At that time it had never been part of my plan.’
‘But you seemed so happy.’ I gulped, heart squeezing so tight. ‘Proposed straightaway …’
‘Yes. Because I was in love with you. It was all about you, baby.’ His eyes had gone all shiny. ‘Your crazy dress sense. The excitement when you’d designed an outfit you thought might one day sell. And …’ His shoulders jigged up and down. ‘I’ve been brought up to do the right thing. So ma
rriage was inevitable.’
‘You married me out of some sense of duty?’
Silence.
I swore my heart actually broke in two. All these years I’d been trying to mould myself into a new Jenny that fitted in when he’d actually wanted the original version of me …
Without warning, tears streamed down my cheeks and I bobbed under the water to rinse away the proof of my hurt. On resurfacing I focused and passed a football to a child who had misaimed.
April still didn’t know. I’d persuaded Zak to hold off telling her – and to convince Chanelle not to break the news to Skye. Nor did I tell anyone else. That would make it feel real. For the first few days I’d managed to get through in a bubble of hope that Zak would change his mind, if only for April’s sake. But by Wednesday that bubble burst as he made it clear his future wasn’t with me. Yet he seemed to nurture this desperate, fantastical idea that somehow April and I could stay on at The Willows. Perhaps that eased a guilty conscience.
‘Are you crazy? I may not be a financial whiz, but even I can see we need to sell this place and fast. Not that I could ever live here again,’ I’d snapped. ‘It represents everything you hold in disdain: a happy, stable family life.’
I shook myself and wished I could stop dissecting every conversation of the last week.
With a brighter than bright smile I waved to April. We left the pool. Headed home. No, wait, not home. I couldn’t use that word any more.
I dropped April off for the traditional roast and because Zak had agreed to help her with maths homework. Then I drove into Laventon. It was April’s health-mad teacher’s birthday tomorrow and apparently The Coffee Club’s pecan brownies were her one and only vice, so April wanted to take some in. Buying gifts had been a given in my luxurious past. Perhaps now I’d have to turn into one of those mums who … I don’t know … thriftily handcrafted gifts out of food packaging or old clothes. My stomach twisted. Would I be up to the challenge?
I parked up my Mini in the village’s council car park and checked my reflection in the rear-view mirror. My hair hung in wild chlorine curls and the sunlight caught my foundation-free freckles. Would anyone else notice my swollen eyelids? After a deep breath, I got out of the car and grabbed my mock snakeskin handbag that looked out of place with my faded jeans. Not faded through wear, of course. It was a designer fashion thing. I’d never so much as darned a sock or resewn a button, in the last ten years. Nor struggled to get stains out of clothes. Anything less than perfect had just gone straight in the bin.
The New Beginnings Coffee Club Page 3
