‘Won’t be long,’ Rebecca assured Richard, steering Olivia towards the door. ‘Sometimes we girls need a bit of privacy, don’t we, Liv?’
Olivia smiled at her gratefully. ‘Yes,’ she said, fresh tears brimming in her eyes as they headed for the stairs.
‘You shouldn’t let something like this drive you to move out, Liv,’ Rebecca said, closing the door once they were in Olivia’s bedroom and turning to her aghast. ‘I’d feel absolutely awful if you did.’
‘Really?’ Olivia asked, her expression all contrived uncertainty as she sat demurely on the bed.
‘Really,’ Rebecca assured her, taking hold of her hands as she sat down next to her. ‘I’d miss you,’ she said firmly, her huge brown eyes fixed earnestly on Olivia’s. They really were quite beautiful, and seemingly full of tender concern. That was a first. Olivia couldn’t remember anyone ever looking at her like that. She couldn’t recall her alcoholic mother’s eyes ever being focussed, let alone focussed on her.
Sighing despondently, genuinely, she dropped her gaze. ‘I don’t think my dad would miss me,’ she said, her voice small.
‘Of course he would.’ Rebecca laughed, giving her hands a squeeze. ‘He loves you.’
Olivia’s eyes flicked cautiously back to her and then down again. ‘I know. It’s just…’ She stopped awkwardly.
‘Just?’ Rebecca urged her.
Olivia took a breath and dropped her gaze lower. ‘Nothing,’ she whispered.
Rebecca was silent for a second, and then, ‘Liv?’ she said, reaching again to lift her chin. ‘What is it, sweetheart?’
Swallowing, Olivia closed her eyes, allowing a slow tear to fall. ‘He…’ She hesitated, not wanting to seem too keen to tell secrets she shouldn’t. ‘Things are a bit… difficult between us sometimes,’ she said. ‘And I…’
She paused, appearing to be struggling with her conscience. ‘I don’t want to hurt his feelings, but… I don’t know what to do.’
Catching a harsh sob in her throat, she allowed Rebecca to pull her close.
‘Oh, Liv.’ Rebecca emitted a heartfelt sigh and eased her head gently to her shoulder. ‘You have a good cry, my lovely,’ she murmured, stroking her hair soothingly as Olivia wept – masterfully. ‘Men, honestly, they can be such a conundrum, can’t they?’
Olivia nodded fervently and then cried harder.
‘Shush, shush. Things will sort themselves out, Liv, I promise you they will.’ Rebecca stroked her shoulders with soft circular strokes. ‘Would you like me to speak to your father? Sometimes an outside perspective can—’
‘No!’ Olivia looked up, alarmed. ‘No,’ she said more quietly, quickly dropping her gaze again.
Rebecca didn’t respond immediately; then, ‘Well, if you’re sure,’ she said, sounding wary.
‘It would only annoy him if he thought I’d told you things he made me promise not to,’ Olivia said, sounding fearful.
‘Promise? Liv, what things? I don’t…’ Rebecca stopped, breathing in sharply. ‘Where did you get these bruises?’ she asked, noting the blue-black marks on Olivia’s arms.
‘Just a fall,’ Olivia mumbled, glancing embarrassedly back at her. ‘Yesterday, in the shower.’
Her eyes clouded with suspicion, Rebecca looked far from convinced.
Perfect. That should put the cat amongst the pigeons, Olivia thought happily. Rebecca would demand to know what was going on. And then they would argue, which Richard wouldn’t abide.
And then it would be bye-bye, Becky, and all would be back to normal.
FIFTY
REBECCA
PRESENT
Richard’s agitation was tangible when they came down. He was sitting at the dining table with what looked like a whisky parked in front of him, and he twirled the tumbler pensively around between his thumb and forefinger. ‘You’ve been a while,’ he said, his eyes narrowed as he looked between them.
He definitely looked ruffled, Rebecca noticed with satisfaction, for a man normally so cool and collected. Olivia had merely hinted at what Rebecca knew to be half-truths and lies. The abuse was there, but Richard wasn’t abusing his stepdaughter. They were in a mutually abusive relationship, their sadomasochistic highs fuelled by the thrill of the chase and the kill. Richard was worried, though. He’d overstepped the boundary, and now he was concerned that Olivia, too, might choose not to play by the rules.
‘Sorry.’ Leading the way in, Rebecca beamed a smile to put him at ease and reached to pet Wanderer and then Bouncer, who sniffed his way around her ankles, his scraggly tail wagging manically. At least someone was happy, she thought, making a mental promise to Nicole that he would always be.
‘We got talking,’ she said, walking across to drape an arm around his shoulders and kiss his cheek. Should she be worried he might be on to her? Was he aware that she knew Olivia was ready to strike back? No, she thought. The bastard was so arrogant he imagined that only he was clever enough to play puppetmaster. ‘I think we put the world to rights, hey, Liv?’ she went on, glancing at Olivia, who was now holding Richard’s eyes with a defiant look.
‘Definitely,’ Olivia concurred, a languorous smile curving her mouth. ‘I feel so much better for a good chat. Becky persuaded me to stay,’ she said, blinking innocently. ‘She said she would be heartbroken if I left because of what happened with Sam. She’s sure he and Laura will get over it, aren’t you, Becky?’
‘I think so,’ Rebecca assured her. ‘And if they don’t…’ She shrugged sadly. ‘Well, I suspect that maybe their relationship wasn’t strong enough anyway.’
Richard’s gaze flicked to hers. Nodding, he smiled inscrutably and lifted his glass, taking a sip of his drink and placing it back on the table. Studying it for a second, he turned it in a half circle, as if he wasn’t quite satisfied with its position, and then looked back to Olivia, his expression contemplative, his ice-blue eyes darkening to grey.
And so it began, the seed of doubt twisting insidiously inside him. How frustrating was it, Rebecca wondered, that he couldn’t voice his suspicions? Might it drive him to a volatile reaction, cause his façade to slip – even for an instant?
Apparently not. ‘That’s good. I’m glad you’re staying,’ he said, smiling again, though rather tightly. ‘How about we all go out for a meal to celebrate? It might be nice after such a demanding day.’
‘Oh God, I’m sorry.’ Rebecca sighed apologetically. ‘I’d love to, but I had a huge lunch today with Isobel. We succumbed to temptation and had profiteroles and ice cream for pudding. I honestly don’t have room for another morsel.’
Richard glanced indulgently at her, then his gaze travelled back to Olivia. ‘Looks like it’s just you and me then, Liv.’
‘Oh, um, I don’t know.’ Olivia looked flustered. ‘I mean, I was going to ring my friend and let her know about the flat-share, and then I was going to wash my hair, and—’
‘That can wait, surely?’ Richard cut across her, his smile still in place and his gaze never leaving hers as he got to his feet. ‘You wouldn’t want to disappoint your father, after all. Would you?’
Rebecca noted the emphasis and the steely look now in his eyes. Olivia obviously did too, acquiescing with a reluctant nod. She wasn’t yet ready to openly challenge him. Rebecca breathed a sigh of relief. ‘That sounds like a lovely idea,’ she said enthusiastically. ‘It will give you two time to catch up without me hanging around. Meanwhile, I’ll indulge and have that scented bath I’ve been promising myself.’
FIFTY-ONE
RICHARD
PRESENT
With classical music playing loudly as he drove, Richard worked to control his temper. Sadly, the beautiful melody did nothing to soothe him. Not this time.
‘Richard! For God’s sake, slow down!’ Olivia yelled, bracing herself against the passenger door and the dashboard as he negotiated a series of sharp bends, the needle on his speedometer nudging up to a hundred. ‘You’ll kill us both! Richard!’
Ignoring her, Richard n
otched the volume up and forced his foot down another fraction.
Several treacherous miles further on, once he was finally able to get a tenuous grip on his emotions, he eased up on the accelerator and allowed the car to slow to somewhere near the speed limit.
She was scared. He glanced sideways at her. He wanted her more than scared. He wanted her terrified. Yanking the wheel hard left, Richard pulled off the road, plunging as deeply as he could into a wooded clearing, and then hit the brakes and skidded the car to an abrupt stop.
Olivia didn’t move, not a muscle. Richard didn’t look at her, killing the music and resting his hands on the wheel instead.
‘What bullshit did you feed her?’ he asked quietly.
‘Why have you parked here?’ Olivia’s voice was barely a whisper.
‘I asked you a question.’
‘I want to go. I’m getting out.’ Olivia fumbled to unclip her seatbelt.
Richard laughed contemptuously. Clearly, she didn’t comprehend that he wouldn’t let her go anywhere ever again unless she fucking well answered him. ‘I said…’ His hand shot out and he clamped his fingers tight around her neck. ‘What did you tell her?’
‘Nothing!’ Olivia’s hands went to her throat, trying to prise him off.
Richard dug his fingers in deeper. He would kill her, he swore he would, if one more lie fell from her viperish little mouth.
‘You’re trying my patience, Olivia. Severely,’ he warned her, unclipping his own belt with his free hand and pushing his face up close to hers. ‘Think again. And while you’re at it, imagine what the foxes and rats will do to your delicate features if I leave you here. Tied up. Unconscious. Until the carnivorous fuckers start sniffing and licking and feeding, that is. Then the flies will move in. Can you feel them yet, Liv? Maggots eating away at your eye sockets?’
‘Stop!’ Olivia screamed. ‘Please! Stop,’ she choked out a sob.
Were they real tears, Richard wondered? He never could be sure. ‘Talk to me,’ he said. ‘And do not piss me about, Olivia. You really do not want to see me lose it completely.’
Olivia stared at him, her eyes wide with fear.
‘Talk.’
Olivia hesitated, and then, reminded of his hand around her throat, blurted, ‘I didn’t say anything, I swear. It was just girl talk. Intimate stuff she probably wouldn’t want to share with you.’
Richard took a minute to digest this, a stab of jealousy tightening his chest, closely followed by an almost suffocating sense of panic as he realised how vulnerable that emotion made him. ‘Did she ask you anything?’
‘About what?’ Olivia stammered. ‘I don’t know what you…’
‘You know very fucking well what I mean,’ Richard growled.
‘No! Please…’ Olivia gulped painfully. ‘Let go, Richard. You’re hurting me.’
Richard studied her, taking in her tear-strewn face and her sensual lips, which had pleasured and taunted him in equal measure. His gaze fell to her slim neck. He could snap it in an instant. Like a pretty, fragile bird, her head would flop; devoid of life, her deceitful cat’s eyes would be vacant. She would have no lies to tell, no truths to tell, no way to tell.
She would be nothing. Was nothing. Rebecca would have been trying to relate to her, that’s all it was, for his sake. She was in love with him. And he…? His stomach clenched and his heart rate escalated, beating erratically with a combination of frustration and growing confusion, as he tried to assimilate feelings that were completely alien to him.
‘Richard, I didn’t… Oh God…’ Olivia’s voice came out a harsh croak. ‘Richard, please…’
Was it possible? Was he in love with her?
‘Richard!’ As Olivia’s voluble terror reached him from some faraway place, Richard shook his head.
‘Stop…’ Olivia gagged hard against his hand.
Richard snapped his gaze back to her. He was strangling her; choking the life out of her. Murdering a woman at the side of the road – his supposed daughter, whose body might be discovered by morning. Richard’s rational thoughts permeated the thick red fog in his head.
It was too risky. He needed to be careful. He was always careful, planning everything meticulously, every last detail. This was clumsy, incompetent. A sure-fire way to lead the law right to his door. Swallowing back his bewilderment, Richard blew a ragged breath out – and relaxed his grip.
Olivia turned on him in a flash. ‘What the fucking hell are you doing?’ she rasped, one hand going to her neck, the other flailing out to land an ineffectual blow to his shoulder.
They were genuine, the tears. Richard smiled scornfully as she scrambled backwards away from him.
‘I could crucify you, you bastard!’ she spat, her expression livid, huge tears rolling down her cheeks. ‘One word from me – just one – and you go to prison for life!’
Richard’s smile slipped, his mind instantly reeling back to the stifling cupboard under the stairs his snarling mother had locked him in as a kid, the suffocating claustrophobia he’d felt, the absolute terror. Bitch! He was tempted – so sorely tempted – to finish the job and damn the consequences. But no. He wasn’t about to let her goad him, any more than he’d let the whore who’d spawned him. Not until he was ready.
‘Small flaw in your masterplan, Liv,’ he said derisively, settling back into his seat. ‘I go down, you go down with me.’
‘You need me!’ Olivia grabbed his arm as he reached to restart the engine. ‘You know you do. We’re a team. Together for life. You said we were!’
‘Nothing’s forever, Liv. Definitely not life,’ Richard reminded her, looking pointedly at her hand on his arm and then to her face.
Olivia plainly got the message, unhanding him and shuffling away again. ‘You really are in love with her, aren’t you?’ Her hands now massaging her neck – which Richard imagined would be rather sore – she scanned his face cautiously. ‘I can’t believe you’re prepared to risk everything for one woman. Why? It’s totally insane. And what about me? I love—’
‘I’m not,’ Richard said shortly, starting the engine and turning up his music to drown out her drivel. He needed to think. He was confused, conflicted – also a new experience. One thing he was now certain about, however, was that two women in his life was one too many.
FIFTY-TWO
REBECCA
PRESENT
Rebecca had no intention of indulging herself. She intended to utilise the time while Richard and Olivia were out to search for anything that might help her achieve her aim. Determined to leave no stone unturned, she decided to start with the outside, rather than have to offer explanations about why she was out there to Richard and Olivia, should they come back early.
Not even sure what she was searching for, she started with the garages, where she found nothing unexpected. Nicole had tried to paint here once – a place where there was so little natural light, it would have been positively gloomy. Been forced to paint here, Rebecca reminded herself. She’d gone from one prison to another, her spirit quashed, her self-esteem reduced to almost nil, broken and bruised. She’d found the courage to fight back, to escape the abuse of her first marriage – only to come here. This time she hadn’t known how to fight back. She hadn’t known who her oppressor was. She’d grown smaller and smaller. Trapped like the little lark in its grand art deco cage, she hadn’t been able to find her way out.
They’d taken everything from her.
A hard knot of anger tightening inside her, Rebecca made her way to the pool house, the memory of his lovemaking, so urgent yet so tender, making her feel nauseous as she stepped inside. His words, guilty whispers, echoed off the tiled walls, sending a chill right through her. You’re beautiful. I want to see you. Look at me, Rebecca. Let me see you.
We shouldn’t have. She recalled his anguished guilt.
It was wrong. Rebecca felt her own; guilt that she’d enjoyed him. That for one insane moment, she’d almost been taken in by him.
Then why did it feel
so right? His arctic-blue eyes had been full of incomprehension when he’d asked her that.
But it had been right. It had brought her here, to a place where she’d finally uncovered the heartbreaking truth. She couldn’t help dear Nicole, but she could help the next woman he would drive to insanity and murder without compunction. Thinking with the fetid mind of someone not fit to be labelled an animal, resorting to the same evil tactics he used, she could play the game just as pitilessly as he.
Her brief search yielding nothing but ghosts, she went back to the house; a house with no heart, just like the person who owned it. There was no colour, none of the personal touches that would have made it a home. No permanency about it. Rebecca smiled wryly. It had been a prop, that was all. An illusion with which to maintain an image, which he sold beautifully.
Incredibly, the man slept at nights. She’d watched him. He slept like an angel, his undeniably beautiful features lending him an innocence that belied the pure evil that lay beneath. Walking into their bedroom, Rebecca’s stomach recoiled, the fine hairs on her flesh rising as she recalled the soft caress of his fingers, his hard flesh next to hers, inside her. Shivering, Rebecca shook herself and headed towards the room adjoining the bedroom, which he used as an office. Pulling open drawers, none of which were locked, she searched quickly, finding nothing particularly incriminating. The paperwork therein was mostly property related. One property in particular drew her attention as she flicked through the schedules: a warehouse originally, it had been utilised by a catalogue company and was now being converted to luxury flats for private rental. No doubt he’d purchased that at a knockdown price before it went on the market. Reminded of the apartment he’d supposedly secured cheaply for Lydia, Rebecca shoved the paperwork away and slammed the drawer shut.
Her anger intensifying, she turned to his laptop to find it password protected. She’d guessed it would be. But was Richard Gray careless enough to implicate himself in anything through online correspondence? Rebecca very much doubted it.
The Second Wife Page 24
