THIRTY
NICOLE
PREVIOUS YEAR – NOVEMBER
Pleased that two more people had signed up for her art class, thereby justifying her use of the room at the back of the hall as her studio, Nicole headed homeward, feeling all was right with her world. Well, as right as it could be, with Olivia still no closer to moving out.
Nicole was toying with the idea of suggesting to Richard that they set her up in her own little apartment. She’d need to learn to be independent, after all, if she was thinking about eventually living in London. She would have to broach that subject very carefully – get Richard on her side to sell the idea. She couldn’t imagine Olivia going for it if she thought it was her suggestion. It would be an additional expense, but Richard might have a way of purchasing such a property cheaply through his contacts, thus making it a worthwhile investment. She’d talk to him about it, she decided, as soon as her mother had moved. Richard had already put Lydia’s house up for sale, and the new apartment her mother was moving into would be ready soon, apparently.
Turning into their lane, she thought about the wonder of her mother agreeing to sell up and move so readily. Richard had said it was because she could see the sense of releasing the equity on the house, thereby affording her a bit of luxury. Personally, Nicole thought it was because she had been seduced by Richard’s charms. She looked very fluttery-eyed and girlish whenever he visited.
Smiling, she turned into the driveway and noticed the electric gates were already open. Strange. They normally closed automatically, unless the manual override was employed. Perplexed, Nicole drove on through, rounding the bend on the long drive to the house – and then slowed, the ominous sweep of a rotating blue light causing her blood to freeze in her veins. Oh God, no. Panic rising inside her, Nicole stepped on the accelerator, sending grit and dust flying as she screeched up behind the ambulance parked right outside the house.
‘Richard!’ Scrambling from her car, she raced to the open front door. ‘Richard!’
Seeing him descending the stairs, Nicole closed her eyes, relief flooding through her. ‘What’s happened?’ she asked him urgently.
Richard didn’t answer. His expression anguished, his complexion deathly pale, he barely acknowledged her as he continued on down.
‘Richard?’ Nicole looked past him to where two paramedics were manoeuvring a slim form on a stretcher down the stairs. Nicole’s stomach dropped like a stone.
Richard dragged a hand over his face as he stood aside to allow the paramedics to pass to the front door.
‘Richard…’ Nicole caught his arm as he turned to follow them. ‘Please tell me what’s happened?’
‘The bloody dog happened!’ Richard snapped.
‘Bouncer?’ Nicole stared at him, uncomprehending. ‘Richard, I have no idea—’
‘He can get over the gate, Nicole.’ Richard’s expression was so furious that Nicole took a step back. ‘That damn dog has to go!’
Richard was more subdued when he met her in the hospital corridor, the fury gone from his eyes, replaced by weary exhaustion.
‘Is she all right?’ Nicole asked, sick with apprehension.
Richard nodded. ‘She will be.’
‘Was it asthma?’ She hardly dared ask.
Tugging in a breath, Richard shook his head. ‘Not asthma, no,’ he said, his voice thick with emotion.
Not asthma? Then why…? He’d blamed Bouncer. For what?
Richard scanned her face then looked away. ‘She had an attack but she managed to get to her medication,’ he said quietly. ‘She rang me. She was upset, as she would be. I came back and… We argued – about the dog, things in general. She tried to take her own life, Nicole.’
He looked back at her, looking nothing short of tortured. ‘I… I thought she was… Jesus.’ He stopped, blinking hard as he glanced at the ceiling.
Dear God. Nicole felt nausea rise inside her. ‘I’m so sorry, Richard,’ she whispered, her heart booming a warning in her chest. ‘I had no idea.’
‘Don’t be.’ Dragging a hand over his neck, Richard sighed heavily. ‘It’s not your fault. If it’s anyone’s, it’s mine. I lost my temper, with Liv and with you. I shouldn’t have.’
Nicole glanced down. ‘You were worried. Upset. You were bound to be.’
Richard fell quiet for a second, and then, ‘About Bouncer…’ he started hesitantly. ‘I know you love him, Nicole, but I honestly can’t see any alternative other than to—’
‘To what?’ Nicole snapped her gaze back to his. Bouncer was her soulmate. Her go-to guy. He’d been there for her when there was no one else. She couldn’t…
‘We have to think about getting him rehomed, Nicole. I—’
‘How can she be allergic to him?’ Nicole cried incredulously. ‘To Bouncer’s hairs and not to Wanderer’s?’
‘I don’t know!’ Richard raised his voice and then rubbed his forehead in frustration. ‘The type of hairs, possibly?’ he suggested, with a hopeless shrug. ‘I really have no idea. It could take months of endless tests to try to establish what the cause of it is, and even then we might never figure it out.’
Nicole stared at him, horrified.
‘Asthma can kill, Nicole,’ he pointed out tersely. ‘Olivia… she’s got it into her head that I don’t care. I do care. I care about both of you. I don’t want you to have to get rid of your dog, for God’s sake, but I can’t go through this again.’ He searched her face beseechingly. ‘What do I do, Nicole? Tell me? What other choice do I have?’
Get rid of your bloody daughter! Nicole seethed silently.
THIRTY-ONE
OLIVIA
PRESENT
‘So you’re definitely moving in then?’ Olivia asked, helping Rebecca extricate her luggage from the boot of Richard’s car.
‘It would certainly seem that way.’ Rebecca nodded back to the Transit van, now trundling up the drive, which contained the various items of furniture she hadn’t wanted to part with, some of which would be installed in the house and the rest stored in the garage.
Olivia had no doubt that Rebecca would marry him. It was only a matter of time. Who could resist, after all? Olivia looked Richard over as he climbed out of the car, and had to admit his charms were many. He would be a catch for most women, let alone someone of Rebecca’s age. Mind you, she wasn’t yet past her prime. Far from it, in fact. Sweeping an appraising glance over her prospective new ‘stepmother’, Olivia couldn’t help but concede that. She was wearing her hair piled on top of her head again, she noticed, showing off her slender neck; and her legs, toned and shapely in flattering leggings, seemed to go on forever.
Richard was also quite taken, it seemed. Turning her attention back to him, Olivia saw that he was definitely acting like someone in love. He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her, running a lustful gaze over the woman. Rebecca, noting the not-so-subtle suggestion therein, reciprocated, her gaze suggestively gliding across the length and breadth of him.
Honestly, you’d think they’d show a little restraint in front of his daughter. ‘Um, do you think it might be a good idea to do your sinning inside?’ Olivia suggested. ‘You’ll be undressing each other on the drive in a minute.’
‘Liv…’ Closing the driver’s side door, Richard shook his head, now looking slightly awkward, Olivia noted.
‘What?’ She blinked innocently at him and walked around to grab the last of Olivia’s bags and close the boot. ‘It’s not like Becky’s going to be embarrassed, for goodness’ sake. She’s a woman of the world. You’re so old-fashioned sometimes, Dad. Sex is what people in love do.’
Glancing towards Rebecca pseudo-despairingly, she heaved the bags she was carrying towards the hall. ‘I did warn you,’ she said, as Rebecca came in behind her. ‘He’s a hopeless romantic and such a traditionalist; it really is embarrassing. Be warned, if he’s done the deed and asked you to marry him, he’s going to keep asking you until he wears you down.’
‘He has asked,’ Rebecca sai
d, giving her a look somewhere between quizzical and amused. ‘But only about ten times, if you count the text messages.’
‘Definitely a man smitten.’ Olivia sighed and fluttered her eyelashes theatrically. ‘And are you weakening?’
Rebecca looked coy at that. ‘I’m considering my options,’ she said.
As if she had any. Olivia smiled. ‘So, what will you do about your job?’ she asked her, leading the way to the kitchen to play dutiful daughter and put the kettle on.
Rebecca dropped her handbag on the countertop and perched herself on a stool at the kitchen island. She really did have amazing legs. Olivia’s eyes were drawn to them as she crossed one gracefully over the other. ‘I’m not sure yet,’ she said, reaching to unpin her hair and shake it free.
Olivia couldn’t help but notice her breasts straining under her strappy vest top, firm and full. She didn’t have any of that awful crêpe skin thing going on yet either, instead blessed with supple skin that tanned easily. She was so different to Nicole, Olivia couldn’t help but wonder how they’d become such close friends. Opposites attracting, she supposed. Nicole had been a willowy, weak, needy thing, where Rebecca seemed to ooze self-sufficiency and confidence. She did hope Richard was aware that this was a woman with a will of her own.
‘I work because I want to, not because I need to,’ Rebecca said, gratefully accepting the tea Olivia offered her and taking a sip. ‘I thought I might take some time out. I don’t think it would hurt to indulge myself a little.’
‘I don’t blame you. Life isn’t forever, is it?’ Olivia reminded her. ‘We should grab every chance of happiness while we can.’
With Richard making an appropriate entrance just then, she gave Rebecca a wink and nodded pointedly in his direction. Rolling her eyes, Rebecca shook her head amusedly and then reached into her bag for her ringing mobile.
‘That will probably be Sam,’ Olivia informed her, as Rebecca checked the number. ‘I told him you were on your way from the ferry when he rang earlier.’
Picking up her tea, she smiled and turned for the door, leaving Rebecca gazing perplexedly after her. She would be a touch curious, wondering why her son would have rung her. Planting seeds now regarding her plans for Sam couldn’t hurt, Olivia had decided.
THIRTY-TWO
NICOLE
PREVIOUS YEAR – NOVEMBER
Nicole’s heart sank as she arrived outside her mother’s house to find the ‘For Sale’ sign had been amended to ‘Sold’. She’d been hoping to persuade Lydia to take Bouncer for a while – if not for her sake, then to impress Richard, whom she clearly adored.
She’d been reluctant to ask her. She didn’t imagine Lydia would be cruel to Bouncer, but she doubted she would be very affectionate either. The alternative, though – to send him back to the rescue centre – Nicole couldn’t contemplate that. Hearing his heartbroken, pathetic yelps as she walked away from him would kill her. Bouncer wasn’t just a dog to her. He was her baby. The loyal, warm body she’d snuggled up to when her nights had been bleak and lonely. Her mind drifted to Rosie, her precious little baby girl. She would be five years old now, probably sitting here chattering away next to her… alive, if only Nicole had been stronger.
Determined to be strong now, she squeezed back a tear and picked up her phone. Becky would be fed up with her whingeing texts, but she had to talk to someone, and while Becky would probably despair of her handling of the Olivia situation, she would be there for her. Nicole wished she was more like her friend, who would never allow her life to be dictated in the way that Nicole was allowing Olivia to dictate hers. But what could she do in reality, other than wait it out? Could she really ask Richard to put her welfare above his daughter’s?
Lovely Becky, whose shoulders are possibly weighed down with my burdens. Something awful has happened and I don’t know what to think.
Nicole pulled in a shuddery breath and typed on.
Richard and Olivia argued, and Olivia made an attempt on her life. The thing is, it was my fault they argued. It was over her allergies and Bouncer, apparently. Poor Richard is devastated and I don’t know what on earth to do. I’m not sure what you can do, but I very much needed an ear. So sorry to shock you with this, Becky. Much love, Nicole. X
Becky replied immediately: Firstly, you can STOP blaming yourself. Secondly, and be honest, do you think it was a serious attempt?xxx
Nicole took another breath and replied, simply: No. She didn’t. In her heart of hearts, she really didn’t.
Becky texted back: Call me. As soon as you can.xxx
Just about to see my mother. Going to ask her to take Bouncer for a short while before she moves. Will call after. Love U. X
Feeling better already for touching base with her friend, who understood why she was so full of self-doubt, Nicole squeezed back another tear and turned to stroke Bouncer’s silky head. It was the only part of him that was soft, the rest of his coat being wiry and woolly and sticking out at all angles. It must be his fur that Olivia was allergic to, she supposed. Try as she might, though, to feel sympathetic towards the girl, Nicole just couldn’t. She really didn’t think her suicide attempt had been a serious one. She had no idea what she was going to do in the long term about the whole awful mess. For now, all she could do was try to borrow some time for her dog, and her mother was her only option, but it looked like she’d be moving to the new apartment Richard had organised for her sooner than Nicole had expected. What she would do once she moved…
‘We’ll think of something, hey, Bouncer?’ Seeing the unremitting trust in his eyes, Nicole fixed a smile on her face and shook the paw Bouncer offered. She had no idea where to go from here if Lydia refused to take him. Maybe Becky would have some suggestions, she pondered, climbing out of the car and opening the passenger door, out of which Bouncer duly bounced. She would ask her when she called. She wasn’t sure what Becky would think when she told her what she really thought about Olivia. Telling her that she thought she was a manipulative, scheming bitch who was doing her best to destroy her would sound barking mad. Was she? Was she getting everything horribly out of proportion because of her own insecurities? It would sound insane, after all, to someone who wasn’t the target of Olivia’s spiteful campaign; to anyone who’d ever met Olivia on a casual basis, in fact. The girl oozed sweetness and light whenever it suited.
She would write it all down, Nicole decided, bracing herself as she walked to Lydia’s front door. It would be cathartic, if nothing else. She would write good old-fashioned letters and hold on to them until she was sure. At least then she would have a record, should she need one when things came to a head – which they would. Nicole was positive of that. If not by Olivia’s instigation, then, so help her God, by hers.
Stopping at the door, she crouched down to give Bouncer a hug. ‘It won’t be for long, sweetheart. I promise I’ll come and visit you every day,’ she whispered, and then heaved herself to her feet to push her key into the lock.
‘Only me,’ she called, realising how late it was. There wasn’t a lot of love lost between them, but she didn’t want to give her mother a heart attack. Peering around the lounge door, expecting to find Lydia dozing, since the TV was still on, she was surprised to find her armchair empty. ‘Lydia?’ she called. She still wasn’t quite able to address her as ‘Mum’. She hadn’t been much of one.
Heading for the kitchen, Bouncer padding along beside her, she stopped short when she found the cellar door ajar. Oh no, she hadn’t ventured down there again, had she? Richard had said he’d found her in the cellar once, in search of vintage red wine from Nicole’s father’s stock, with which she’d obviously hoped to impress him. What on earth was she thinking, going down there this late in the evening?
‘Lydia?’ Nicole pulled the door wide and squinted into the darkness. She clearly wasn’t down there but she groped for the light switch located inside the cellar door anyway, just in case.
‘Stay, Bouncer,’ she instructed him, stepping tentatively on to the woode
n steps, lest anything eight-legged and hairy leap out at her.
It took a second for Nicole’s eyes to adjust to the bright white light of the single bulb in the ceiling. It took another second for the horrific scene at the foot of the steps to register.
Oh God, no. ‘Mum!’ Nicole’s scream echoed shrilly around the stone walls of the cellar. ‘Mum!’ Blundering forward, she groped for the rickety stair rail. With her focus on her mother, her heart bursting, her stomach turning nauseatingly over, she didn’t realise half of the rail was missing – until she found herself plunging downwards to land in the sticky red liquid surrounding Lydia’s body.
Oh God, oh God. Shuffling closer, her mind recoiling, Nicole lifted trembling fingers to touch the gaping wound in the back of her mother’s head. Fingers that were dripping with blood – she splayed them in front of her. Lydia’s blood; her mother’s brains spilled across the concrete.
‘Stay!’ Hearing the clattering of claws on wood, she turned to bellow at Bouncer. ‘Stay, baby,’ she sobbed, slipping and slithering and sliding as she attempted to find some purchase with which to drag herself up.
She didn’t feel the shard of glass, from the wine bottle Lydia had thought it so important to fetch, when it punctured her knee. Ice-cold terror was all she felt as she scrambled to get away. Retching at the smell – warm, metallic, vinegary – Nicole stumbled back up the steps.
Clutching Bouncer’s collar as she reached the hall, the back of one blood-covered hand pressed under her nose, she went instinctively to the phone on the hall table. It wasn’t there in its cradle where it should be. Lydia carried it about. Had carried it about. Lydia, her mother…
Dead.
It permeated her terror with sickening clarity. She’d died alone. Nicole pressed her hand closer, suppressing a wretched sob. She must have been terrified. So very, very frightened. She’d lived her whole life frightened. And now… Nicole didn’t hate her for it any more. She loved her. And she’d never once said it.
The Second Wife Page 16
