Highland Fling (19 page)

Max opened his mouth to speak but thought better of it and instead, knocked back his port in one swallow. After a minute or two he said, ‘Lizzie. Don’t get mad. I’m not trying to make excuses. I didn’t when you found us ... well, when ... ’

‘Oh just say it Max! When I walked in and found you in bed with that bloody woman!’

Max was startled by the hatred in her voice.

‘Okay. Well, I didn’t make excuses then and I’m not making excuses now. It was me; my fault entirely. A woman threw herself at me – literally – and I should have thrown her back but I didn’t and yes, I should have ended it before it got out of control – but I didn’t. I tried, but I didn’t, so I have no one to blame but myself. I was a fucking idiot!’

‘What an appropriate way to put it!’

‘God Lizzie, stop it. Stop being sarcastic. I know I hurt you, really hurt you but it hasn’t been all sunshine and roses for me either you know. Every day I think about what our life might be like if only I hadn’t done it. Every day I miss you and wish I could take back all the hurt. Every time we make love again I pray that it won’t be the last and that you’ll come back to me. I love you Lizzie. More than I’ve ever loved anyone, I love you!’

Lizzie stared at him for two whole minutes during which neither of them spoke then she leaned forward and looked him straight in the eye.

‘Tell me Max,’ she said, ‘and believe me, I’ll know if you’re lying. How many women have you slept with since we separated? I don’t need precise numbers – a ball park figure will do.’

Max felt his mouth go dry and he licked his lips. Christ. What was he going to say? He couldn’t lie, she’d know, she was right about that.

‘Lizzie I –’

‘I rest my case.’

‘Lizzie! I’m only flesh and blood for Heaven’s sake and I’m not a bloody saint. I missed you. I was lonely. None of them meant anything –’

‘None of them? So, clearly there were several. No, Max. Don’t. Don’t say anything else. God what a fool I’ve been. Don’t you think I missed you too? That I was lonely? But until last night I’ve been totally faithful to you, d’you know that? I kept telling myself that somehow, things would eventually work out between us and every time you came to stay I really thought  ... well, it doesn’t matter does it? I knew, deep down, it was over. I wouldn’t have moved to Scotland if I hadn’t. I told myself I needed space but the truth was, I needed to be so far away that things could never go back to the way they were. We’ve both been hanging on to something that died a long time ago. Our marriage is like our favourite dead pet that we can’t bear to lose so we have it stuffed and put it beside the fire and think it looks real and alive but really all it is, is a dead dog.

‘Humph! Well, thanks for the analogy.’ Max dragged his hand through his thick, blond hair.

‘I think it’s time to go,’ Lizzie said.

‘Wait!’ Max’s eyes formed small slits and he leant forward so their faces were only inches apart. ‘You said, “until last night” what does that mean? Have you ... Christ Lizzie! You didn’t fuck one of the guys did you?’

Lizzie hadn’t even realised she’d said it and now her cheeks flushed crimson. ‘I ... I ... it doesn’t matter who it was. What matters is, it was the first time for me!’

‘Oh really! That’s what matters is it? Not that you screwed someone I know, someone I may work with. That’s just fucking great. How’s that gonna go on Monday. “Thanks for fixing us up for the weekend Max – oh, and thanks for letting us screw your wife!”’

Lizzie threw her napkin on the table-cloth. Some of the other diners were casting startled looks in their direction, as their voices grew louder. Lizzie noticed and blushed even more.

‘Keep your voice down Max. People are looking at us. It wasn’t like that and ...’ and what? It was exactly like that. Jack had lied to get her into bed and she’d gone, willingly and enthusiastically. Oh God! Did Jack know Max really? Maybe it was Jack who used Lizzie to get back at Max. “You’ve screwed my fiancée, I’ve screwed your wife. Now we’re quits”. Oh Shit.

‘And what? Don’t tell me, I know. It’s true love!’

‘Now who’s being sarcastic? Jane said you’d act like this.’

‘Oh, so Jane knows too? Why don’t you just put a notice in The Times?’

‘Max stop it! This is ridiculous. I really think we should go.’

‘Not until you tell me who it was.’

Lizzie’s eyes grew wide in horror. ‘No! It’s none of your business. You don’t own me.’

‘You’re still my wife.’

‘Only on paper – and we can soon change that! I’m not getting into this Max. I haven’t asked you the names of the women you’ve slept with since we separated and I’m not going to tell you his!’

‘Was it Phil?’

‘No! I’m not saying.’

‘It wasn’t Phil then? Well that’s one good thing at least. He’s the one who works with me so that would have been gross but the others, well I don’t know any of them except Pete Towner and I’ve only met him a few times. Don’t think Phil will spread gossip though. He’s not the sort.’

‘My God Max! That’s all you’re worried about. You’re not so concerned about the fact that I slept with someone else as you are about your bloody reputation! Do you ever think about anyone but yourself for longer than a minute a day?’

Max was stunned. ‘Now that’s not fair. I’ve done nothing else but think about you for the last seven years!’

‘Oh come on Max. That’s a bit strong. Were you thinking about me when you were screwing Ki ...
that woman
and were you thinking about me when you were screwing the various, um, companions over the last two years since we’ve been separated?’

Max glowered at her. ‘You may find this hard to believe but actually, yes, I was thinking about you – and the guilt’s been killing me.’

Lizzie looked startled, then, she burst out laughing. ‘You poor baby. It must have been hell. No wonder you look so tired.’

‘I look tired.’ Max snapped, ‘you look like death warmed over. For someone who’s just had a night of passion and found “true love” you look pretty fucking dejected.’

They glared at one another across the table in silence. A waiter approached them and stood beside their table.

‘How is everything this evening, Mr. Bedford? Anything I can get you?’

Neither Lizzie or Max had seen him and they simultaneously raised startled eyes to his sanguine face – and simultaneously burst out laughing.

The waiter didn’t bat an eyelid; he merely waited.

Max looked across at Lizzie. ‘Truce?’

Lizzie nodded. ‘Truce.’

‘Then we’ll have some more of this port, please and ... and some of the Amaretto pancakes.’

‘Oh!’ Lizzie sucked in her breath, they too, were her favourites. ‘No Max, I mustn’t.’

He grinned wickedly at her and put on his best dismissive tone. ‘They’re for me actually, your minute was up a long time ago, I’m back to thinking about myself now.’

Neither did the waiter bat an eyelid when Lizzie threw her napkin in Max’s face.

Max’s eyes softened and he smiled at Lizzie. ‘I’m sorry, Lizzie. Not just for tonight but for all of it.’

‘I know,’ she said, ‘me too.’

‘I really shouldn’t have eaten those,’ Lizzie said half an hour later when they’d eaten the Amaretto pancakes and drunk more port. ‘I’m so full up I might burst.’ And a memory of an inflatable doll and a gorgeous man flashed into her mind unbidden.

Max saw something flash across her eyes. ‘You okay?’

‘Yes,’ she said after a few seconds, ‘I’m fine.’

‘Well that’s good because there’s no way in hell I’d be clearing up that mess!’

Max’s eyes met hers and they smiled at each other.

‘Lizzie, I still love you, you know that and I still want you back but, I can see we’re never going to be able to put this behind us. You’re right, every time it looks like we might, it all comes up again. We’re both hanging on, I’m not sure I like the dead dog bit, but I do see what you mean. Maybe it is time we accepted it and tried to rebuild our lives – God, even the thought of that depresses me. Oh well, bite the bullet. Do ... do you want a divorce?’

Lizzie studied his handsome face. Throughout their marriage it had been like this. They hadn’t rowed often – before
that woman
–but when they had, they’d been like tonight. Short, sharp bursts of anger, followed by long, passionate nights of making up. Tonight though, there’d be no passionate making up.

‘I think it’s for the best, don’t you?’

Max sighed deeply. ‘I suppose so. We ... we’ll still be friends though, right? I mean, we’ll still keep in touch and ... maybe have dinner occasionally?’

Lizzie smiled and nodded. ‘I don’t think I could cut you out of my life completely Max. I do still care for you a great deal and I want you to be happy ... it’s just not with me.’

Max nodded in agreement. ‘Your new man might not like it, though.’

Lizzie bit her lower lip. ‘There is no new man Max, it ... it was a mistake ... just one of those things that happen after a few drinks.’ She shrugged.

Max regarded her for several seconds. ‘You okay?’ he said, his voice tender and soothing.

Lizzie nodded and hoped the floodgates wouldn’t open. ‘Yeah. I’m fine. It’s just been a long, and very exhausting few days.’ She had been tempted to tell him about Jack and about,
that woman
, but she’d thought better of it. What difference would it make anyway? Jack didn’t seem to know Max and Max didn’t know Jack so it was better to leave things as they were.

‘Shall we go to the solicitor’s on Monday?’ Max was asking. ‘It’ll be pretty straightforward I guess so I suppose it’ll be fairly quick, even if not painless.’

‘I ... I had thought about that but there’s no rush Max if ... if you’d rather leave it for a few days.’

Max shook his head. ‘No. Best to get things rolling. Otherwise I might start to hope again and get difficult and try to delay things.’

Lizzie smiled at him. ‘You wouldn’t do that Max. I ... I’m sorry about saying you don’t think about anyone but yourself. That isn’t really true.’

Max grinned sardonically. ‘Yeah it is, kind of. Anyway, let’s not drag it out, that won’t do either of us any good. Say, why don’t we just have a lovely day tomorrow, go to Hampton Court or Kew or something, like we used to. I promise I won’t try and change your mind or beg you to take me back, more than thirty times, okay?’

Lizzie laughed, she knew he wasn’t serious. When Max made a decision, he stuck to it, it just sometimes took him a long time to make one, that’s all. ‘Okay,’ she said, stifling a yawn.

‘Do you want to go to bed?’ Max asked.

Lizzie tipped her head to one side and raised an eyebrow.

‘Sorry, didn’t mean it like that. You know what I mean. Do you want to go home to sleep?’

Lizzie grinned. ‘Yes please. As I said, it’s been a very long few days and I’m absolutely shattered – and, if I’m honest, a little bit tipsy to boot.’ Another memory flashed through her mind of the last time she was tipsy and Jack kissing her and... 

Why wouldn’t that man just get out of her head? She stood up and walked a little unsteadily from the table. She had high heels on and it had been a while since she’d worn those. The drink didn’t help and after Max had helped her on with her coat and held the restaurant door open for her, she stepped out on to the pavement and her ankle twisted beneath her.

‘Ouch!’ she yelped, stumbling into Max who grabbed her in his arms.

‘You okay? Have you hurt yourself?’

‘It’s my ankle.’ She was balancing on one foot. ‘I think I may have twisted it or something.’

‘Lean on me,’ Max said, bending down to examine the ankle whilst Lizzie leant on his shoulders.

‘Owwww!’

‘Sorry. Didn’t mean to hurt you. I don’t think it’s broken but I’m no expert. We’d better call a cab and get you to hospital.’

‘No! I’m sure it’ll be fine. Just take me home, please. If it still hurts in the morning I’ll go to hospital then.’

‘Are you sure, Lizzie?’

Lizzie nodded. ‘Yes. Spending hours in accident and emergency really doesn’t appeal to me tonight. I don’t think I can walk though so may I just lean on you?’

‘Of course you may, sweetheart! Sorry, force of habit. It’ll take a while to get used to not calling you that.’

Lizzie smiled, ‘Don’t worry about it, Max.’

He put his arm around her waist and Lizzie leaned in to him. The pain in her ankle was worse that she’d admitted and it was making her feel slightly nauseous. Her head began to swim and she thought she might pass out. She closed her eyes and rested her head against Max’s chest whilst they waited for a cab.

Jack’s journey, from the moment he left Laurellei Farm, was torture. He felt as if he’d been put on a rack and was being pulled from limb to limb in different directions.

From time to time, one of the guys spoke to him but he just nodded or shrugged until eventually, they left him in peace. Peace, huh, that was a joke. It would be a very long time before he ever felt at peace again, he was certain of that.

His mind kept going over the night he’d spent with Lizzie, how she’d felt in his arms, how she’d responded to his touch, how she’d blown his mind. Sex had never been like that with Kim or anyone else as far as he could remember. Lizzie just had to touch him or even look at him and all the blood rushed to his groin. Even now, with everything else that was going on, just the thought of her was starting to arouse him.

He’d call her, he thought, as soon as he got a chance to get away from the guys and he’d tell her everything. Tell her how he felt, tell her why he’d left; tell her about Kim. Then what? Tell her he couldn’t break off the engagement and that he intended to marry Kim. So what good would that do?

At least she’d understand. At least she’d know he hadn’t lied. Hadn’t made up an excuse to get her into bed and then toss her aside the following day like a used condom. Oh my God. Condom! What was the matter with him? Last night he’d made love with Lizzie five times – and not once had he used a condom!

Jack’s mind raced. Was she on the pill? Had she said she was? Had either of them even thought about it? He’d have to find out. He’d have to call her and ask her? Yeah right. How would that go exactly, “just calling to ask if you’re on the pill ‘cos I forgot to ask last night before I made love with you – five times!”