The Second Wife

by Sheryl Browne

  ‘What?’ Emitting an incredulous laugh, Richard stared at her, uncomprehending. And then, ‘You’re… pregnant?’ he blurted.

  Possibly not any more… But Nicole felt no need to disclose that. She simply nodded instead.

  ‘Jesus…’ Quite clearly blindsided, Richard shook his head, raking a hand through his hair and glancing down as he tried to digest. Nicole’s heart leapt frantically in her chest. It wasn’t ready to stop beating. Not yet.

  She knew the ground underfoot. It was dark, treacherously so, but she could negotiate the lock gates. Her mouth ran dry. Her adrenaline spiked. She’d be nimbler than he, quicker than he. And if she wasn’t? The sun might not rise for her in the morning, but she had to try, for the life of the child who by some small miracle might still exist.

  ‘Nicole!’ Shaken out of his stupor, Richard started after her as she turned and ran. ‘Nicole, stop!’

  The lock gates straddling the river were wet, moss-covered and slimy, the narrow wooden shelf facilitating passage across them barely visible in the thin light of the moon.

  ‘Nicole, for God's sake, don’t go any further! Wait there!’ he yelled, sounding as desperate as she as he clambered on to the lock gates after her.

  Nicole heard him curse as he stumbled, felt the shudder of the huge gates beneath her. The last thing she remembered before her watery tomb enveloped her was Richard’s hand clasping hers, his anguished cry as gravity tore hers away.

  A curious sense of peace washing through her, she vanquished memories of them together, bodies entwined, tongues seeking each other’s, as she sank into the water. Accepting the inevitable, too tired to fight it, her thoughts drifted instead to her loyal, bouncy little friend, who might not understand why his human had deserted him. Please don’t let him fret, she prayed silently. Please, God, let him spend the rest of his days with someone who loves him.

  FORTY-FIVE

  REBECCA

  PRESENT

  Out of necessity, Rebecca stopped halfway along the high street after leaving the art shop. Visibly shaking, she pulled the letter Isobel had given her from her handbag, tears blurring her vision as she looked again at her dear friend’s flowery handwriting, reading in every word how truly scared Nicole had been. And what had scared her more than anything was the thought that she was losing her mind.

  Nicole! Why didn’t you post it? Why didn’t you call me?

  Grief surged through her, leaving her weak in its wake, and she slumped against the shop window behind her. She hadn’t realised she’d spoken out loud until a woman passing by cast a wary glance over her shoulder. Turning to face the shop, Rebecca looked angrily skywards and tried to get her tears in check. Olivia had been manipulating Nicole, she was in no doubt about that, but had she pushed her so far she had taken her own life?

  And what about Lydia? What part had darling, deceitful Olivia played in her ‘accident’, which Nicole had been adamant wasn’t an accident? What part had Richard, distraught father, caring husband and mediator, played?

  Feeling as if she herself were losing her grip on reality, Rebecca felt an icy dagger of foreboding pierce her heart as her eyes came to rest on the properties for sale in the estate agent’s window – and on one property in particular. Standing on at least an acre of land and approached via electric gates, the period property was magnificent. Richard’s property. Richard and Nicole’s house, the house he said he’d taken off the market. Yet here it was, up for sale. For a handsome profit, presumably, since he’d bought it before it went on the market. Nicole’s money had gone into that house, which would now be in his sole ownership. In fact, all of Nicole’s assets would have gone to him on her death, including the proceeds of her mother’s estate.

  She swallowed hard as another thought occurred, one that should already have occurred: that Nicole had possibly been insured. Very probably had been. Whirling around, Rebecca pulled her phone from her bag as she raced back towards the car park.

  Selecting Peter’s number, whom she’d tracked down at the college he’d worked alongside Nicole with, she didn’t see the two women coming towards her until she’d almost collided with them. Shit! ‘Sorry,’ she mumbled, attempting to skirt around them.

  ‘More haste, less speed,’ one of them, a rosy-faced, rotund woman, said, smiling indulgently.

  ‘What?’ Rebecca glanced confusedly at her. ‘Oh, yes. Sorry,’ she repeated, stepping into the road to get by.

  ‘Isn’t that the latest?’ she heard her say to the other woman as they walked on.

  Rebecca froze, nausea twisting her stomach as she waited for the other’s woman’s reply.

  ‘That’s her,’ the woman said, with a mournful sigh. ‘Let’s hope this one cottons on a bit quicker than the last one. There’s something not right there. You mark my words. I’m not one to gossip, but…’

  Rebecca knitted her brow, straining to hear as the woman muttered on, unfortunately out of earshot.

  Sitting in his car, Rebecca waited for Peter to read the letter Isobel had given her, which outlined Nicole’s terror on the day she’d arranged her mother’s funeral, her fear, her confusion. She would have confronted Richard, Rebecca was sure. As scared as she was of what was happening around her, to her, she would have done that. He would have talked her round, tried to. Told her she was imagining it all. Almost feeling her dear friend’s bewilderment, her pain, Rebecca’s heart hardened to steel. ‘I think you were right,’ she said, as he refolded the letter slowly and handed it back to her, clearly shaken.

  Removing his glasses, Peter kneaded his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. ‘I know I was,’ he said, his voice tight. ‘Zachary didn’t touch her, Becky. She was lying. It was obvious to me she had an agenda. If only I’d known what.’ Cursing quietly, he tugged in a terse breath.

  Thinking he might never breathe out, Rebecca reached for his free hand, giving it a comforting squeeze.

  Squeezing hers lightly back, Peter replaced his glasses and nodded, trying to reassure her that he wasn’t about to dissolve into tears. He had cried, when she’d first spoken to him. His voice had cracked, and though he’d tried hard to restrain himself, he’d had to end the call and ring her back.

  ‘I tried to tell Nicky that there was no way Zach would have done something like that,’ he went on, more composed. ‘But…’ He trailed off with a sigh.

  ‘She wasn’t hearing you?’ Rebecca suggested. She had, though, she suspected. Just as she was feeling now, Nicole’s instincts would have told her the scenario was all wrong. When Rebecca had read the email she’d sent her from her crowded honeymoon, she’d sensed it. ‘I hardly dare write it down,’ Nicole had written, ‘for fear I’m making a judgement without all the facts, but… it seems Peter’s son attacked Olivia in her bedroom.’ It had been telling that she’d sensed she didn’t have all the facts, that she’d said ‘it seems’… Rebecca should have pursued it further.

  ‘She could hardly disbelieve her new stepdaughter, could she?’ Peter pointed out, laughing cynically. ‘We spoke, afterwards, just once. I tried again to warn her that something wasn’t right. Obviously, though, it would have sounded like I was defending my son – which I was, given the horrendous thing he’d been accused of. After that…’

  ‘You lost touch,’ Rebecca filled in, as he fell silent, clearly contemplating what might have happened if he hadn’t. Nicole might still be alive, if only… Rebecca empathised completely.

  ‘That’s the gist of it, yes. Inevitable, I suppose. She wouldn’t have wanted to be reminded of the unsavoury event that ruined her wedding day.’ Peter blew out another heavy sigh. ‘Thereafter, her life presumably revolved around the perfect man,’ he went on, with a disconsolate shrug. ‘Rather too perfect, in my mind, but I doubt Nicky would have been receptive to any criticism of him.’

  Noting the bitter edge to his voice, Rebecca turned to appraise him. He was a good-looking man, his thin-rimmed glasses making him look studious, which he actually was. He wasn’t overconfident, Rebecca could
tell. Each time she’d met him before, he’d been quietly spoken and gentle in his demeanour. ‘You loved her, didn’t you?’ she asked him carefully.

  Peter hesitated, and then, looking slightly awkward, admitted, ‘Yes, I did. Very much.’

  Rebecca’s heart ached for him. ‘Did you ever tell her?’ She pushed it a little, wondering if Nicole had turned him down – and if so, why. With their shared interests, Rebecca imagined the two would have been an ideal match.

  Peter smiled embarrassedly at that. ‘No. I wanted to, but I left it awhile, thinking it might be too soon after her divorce for her to be thinking about another relationship. We actually went out for lunch together, to celebrate her one year anniversary of freedom. That was day we visited the Ikon Gallery. I was willing myself to just do it, to ask her. And then…’

  ‘Richard Gray came along,’ Rebecca finished, feeling for him. How painful it must have been to watch another man steal her from under his nose.

  ‘Mr Debonair himself. I should have pushed that bastard over the banister when I had the chance,’ Peter growled, swiping the back of his hand over his mouth. ‘So… What will you do about the letter?’

  ‘At the moment, nothing,’ Rebecca said. ‘I need more than a letter written by a woman who both Richard and her GP will confirm was mentally ill. Absolute proof. Something he and his daughter won’t be able to bullshit their way out of. There’s no way I’ll pull this off without it.’

  Peter conceded her point with a nod. ‘I have one of the items we discussed you might need,’ he said, reaching into his jacket pocket and extracting a small package. ‘It’s frightening how easily available this stuff is over the internet.’

  Rebecca peered beneath the wrapping, and then hastily rewrapped it and pushed it into her handbag. ‘You did cover your tracks though?’

  ‘I did. The PC is pretty much defunct anyway, so I wiped it and ripped out the hard drive.’

  ‘Thanks, Peter.’ Rebecca tugged in a relieved breath. She hadn’t wanted to order this locally and make it easily traceable.

  ‘My pleasure, trust me,’ Peter assured her. ‘Just be careful how much you use.’

  Rebecca nodded. She intended to be. Extremely. She hadn’t been sure Peter would be willing to help her when she’d spoken to him about her suspicions, but he had been. Knowing what she now did, how strongly he’d felt about Nicole, Rebecca understood why. Now he’d had absolute proof of the torture she’d gone through, she had no doubt she had an ally. Rebecca was relieved. She would need one.

  ’I’ve ordered the other items you asked for. They should be with me by tomorrow. ‘I’ll text you. Meanwhile, tread carefully, Becky,’ Peter warned her. ‘You have my number. My hotel isn’t that far away. I can be there in minutes if you need me.’

  Driving up to the house with her head and her heart in turmoil, Rebecca was surprised to find Laura’s car parked outside, which could only mean Sam and she were here. Oh no. This was the last thing she wanted right now.

  About to call out as she let herself through the front door, she stopped, hearing raised voices coming from the kitchen. Female voices. What on earth? Dumping her bag, Rebecca hurried through to find Olivia and Laura in some kind of stand-off. Olivia, her arms folded across her breasts, looked po-faced. Laura, her arms straight by her sides and her hands clenched into fists, looked absolutely livid.

  Rebecca glanced towards Richard, who stood back from the pair, splayed his hands and shrugged helplessly.

  ‘Laura?’ Guessing what this was about, Rebecca’s heart dropped like a stone. ‘Are you all right? Where’s Sam?’

  Laura, though, was apparently in no mood to answer questions. ‘You’re a liar!’ she shouted instead, her furious gaze locked on Olivia. ‘Sam would never do such a thing.’

  ‘Right,’ Olivia said, with a roll of her eyes. ‘And you know this because Sam told you so, presumably?’

  Laura’s face flushed with anger. ‘No,’ she seethed. ‘I know this because Sam prefers not to sleep with lying bitches like you!’

  ‘Sticks and stones, sweetheart,’ Olivia drawled impassively. ‘The fact remains that Sam and I made love. By his instigation, I hasten to add, so there’s really no point in coming here and acting like some sad little woman spurned.’

  Choking back her disbelief, Rebecca stared at her in astonishment. What utter rubbish. Sam would never be so deceitful. Why in God’s name would Olivia do this? And why had she set Zach up so cruelly? She could have destroyed his life. She certainly seemed to want to destroy Sam and Laura’s relationship, and subsequently Rebecca’s relationship with Richard – just as Nicole had suspected she’d wanted to ruin hers. She’d succeeded. Well, little did the girl know Rebecca had an agenda of her own. She felt anger settle like ice in her chest. Olivia might as well have bloody well pushed her.

  ‘Ring him, if you don’t believe me,’ Olivia went on cattily, a challenge in her eyes as she boldly held Laura’s gaze. ‘I doubt he’ll deny it if he knows you’re standing here insulting me.’

  ‘There’s nothing to deny! You’re full of shit, Olivia.’ Laura wiped her arm across her eyes, trying very hard not to cry. ‘It’s not true. Any of it!’

  ‘Whatever. Believe what you will.’ Olivia sighed wearily, as if she was finding the whole thing tedious. ‘Just a thought, sweetie,’ she added, with a supercilious smirk, ‘if you want keep your boyfriend interested, it might be an idea to make your next read How to Please a Man Sexually.’

  ‘Liv!’ Richard finally interjected. ‘That’s enough. I have no idea what’s going on here, but—’

  Laura stopped him, stepping forward to land a stinging slap across Olivia’s face. ‘You’re disgusting,’ she spat, looking her over contemptuously and then turning to walk away.

  Stunned, Olivia stared after her. ‘You bitch.’ She recovered herself, peeling her hand away from her cheek and starting after her.

  Richard was quicker, wrapping an arm around the front of Olivia’s shoulders and holding her back. He’d damn well better, or he might need to hold her back. Rebecca fumed inwardly and went after Laura.

  ‘I said that’s enough!’ she heard Richard shout angrily behind her. ‘This needs to stop, Olivia, now!

  ‘Laura!’ Rebecca caught up with her at the front door. ‘Talk to me, Laura,’ she beseeched her, desperate to know how this had come to a head, where Sam was. ‘Please, tell me what’s happened.’

  Her shoulders heaving with obvious emotion, Laura didn’t answer. Then, ‘Nothing happened!’ she said, whirling around. ‘That’s the point, Becky. She’s some kind of fantasist, or else just a spiteful, jealous cow. She’s trying to split us up. I have no idea why. Sam’s not interested in her. He told me he’s not.’

  The tears came then, anguished tears, streaming down Laura’s face. Rebecca moved towards her, taking hold of her shoulders. ‘Do you believe him?’ she asked her.

  Laura searched her eyes. ‘Yes,’ she said eventually, but she didn’t look a hundred per cent certain.

  ‘Your heart will tell you, Laura,’ Rebecca said firmly, her own heart feeling as if it were folding up inside her. For Sam; for Laura. For poor, dear Nicole. ‘You need to trust your instincts. I mean really trust them, Laura. They rarely lie to you.’

  Nodding, Laura glanced down. ‘I need to ring him,’ she said quietly, her tearful gaze coming back to Rebecca’s. ‘We had a terrible argument. He was really upset.’

  As he would be, Rebecca knew. She would need to ring him too, to offer a shoulder. And to ask him outright. She could never know all of him, but he’d never lied to her yet. She hoped to God he hadn’t got himself ensnared in Olivia’s web. The girl was venomous.

  ‘He’s bound to be,’ she said. ‘As are you. You have every right to be upset, Laura, and furious. I know I would be. If Sam is half the person I think he is, he’ll respect that. In fact, I think he’ll quietly applaud what you just did.’

  Laura’s mouth twitched into a small smile. ‘I don’t think he’s ever seen m
e lose it.’

  Rebecca smiled. ‘It never hurts to keep them on their toes,’ she said, giving the girl a much-needed hug. ‘Look, say no if you want to, but why don’t we go into the village and have a quick coffee? I can’t let you drive back like this.’

  Laura hesitated, and then, ‘Okay,’ she said, with a more assured nod.

  ‘Good.’ Breathing a sigh of relief, Rebecca grabbed up her bag. ‘And don’t worry, I won’t use the time to defend my son. It’s up to him to do the talking.’ She hooked an arm through Laura’s and steered her to the door. ‘I have an ear, though, if you need one. Or else we can just indulge and eat cupcakes.’

  Laura’s smile brightened a little at that.

  FORTY-SIX

  RICHARD

  PRESENT

  ‘What the fucking hell were you doing, taking her side?’ Olivia demanded, barging into the main bedroom after him.

  Sighing agitatedly, Richard turned to face her. Her face set in scowl, she looked like a petulant child. She was acting like one, too. ‘You screwed up, Liv,’ he pointed out, less than patiently. ‘If this was your best attempt at psychological manipulation, it was pathetic.’

  ‘What?’ Olivia gawked at him.

  ‘It’s not going to work,’ Richard stated flatly, reaching to unbutton his shirt. ‘You know the rules.’

  ‘I was following the bloody rules!’ Olivia eyeballed him furiously. ‘Unlike you, who suddenly seems to be making them up as he goes along.’

  Richard ignored her, reaching to unfasten his cuffs instead. What Olivia didn’t get was that Becky was different to the others. Less needy. Not needy at all, in fact. She was strong and independent, which he’d found himself admiring. Intelligent, too. She had a way of turning conversations around and extracting information from him, rather than vice versa. He had a suspicion she would see straight through Olivia’s mind games. He was thinking it might be more interesting to take his time with her. She was definitely a challenge. And, of course, she was pleasing in bed – adventurous, but setting boundaries. He liked that. He certainly liked the idea of gradually breaking those boundaries down.