Authors: Natasha Walker
‘How’s David doing?’
‘I left him asleep on the sofa. He seemed comfortable. How’s your head?’
‘Fine. I’m one of the lucky ones. No hangovers.’
‘Oh, you mean you’re a drunk!’ she said and laughed. His look told her she had hit the mark. ‘All the best people are,’ she added to soften the blow. She dropped her beach bag on an empty chair and sat down at the glass-topped table. As the balcony faced east, there was no avoiding the morning sun. She turned slightly so that she wasn’t being blinded.
Sebastian placed a plate of croissants on the table and laid out two plates, butter, jam and a jar of Nutella. Emma took a sip of her coffee.
‘You don’t remember me, do you, Mrs Benson?’
‘No, I don’t. But then we met over a year ago, I think you said. While
you
don’t even remember what you said to me last night.’ She chose a croissant and opened the Nutella.
‘Oh, shit. What did I say?’
‘You really don’t remember?’ Emma laughed and Sebastian grinned. ‘I think you do,’ she said.
‘I haven’t the faintest idea. But if I had to guess …’
‘Yes?’
‘Do you always flirt this outrageously with your husband’s friends, Emma?’
‘No, sometimes I just fuck them.’ She bit into her chocolate-covered croissant. ‘Weren’t
expecting that reply, were you?’ she continued with her mouth full and eyes smiling.
‘Said like a woman who has already decided
not
to fuck someone.’
‘Spot on. And not because I’m married, or because I don’t find you attractive, or because this house is a turn-off, or because of what you said last night.’
‘Then why?’
‘I have my reasons. You can put it down to the coffee you’ve made me. Terrible.’
‘I suppose it’s too late to convince you I had no ulterior motives when I asked you in for coffee?’
‘No, not when you put Nutella on the table, you old smoothie.’
Sebastian laughed. ‘This is how you were that first time we met. I mean, not just with me, but with David, with everyone. I remember you because I hadn’t met anyone like you. You don’t remember me because I was just like all of the other men there.’
‘But now you’ve had the stuffing kicked out of you.’
‘Yes. Now I feel as though I have no time to waste.’
‘I’ve always felt that way.’
‘I didn’t get that impression last night. You were the very image of a banker’s wife.’
Emma was silent. She couldn’t deny him that impression and she wasn’t going to tell him the truth.
‘To be perfectly honest, I was surprised to find you with David. I didn’t know he had married you. I hadn’t heard. I’ve always travelled a lot. I meet thousands of people every year. I don’t remember many of the people I meet. Few leave an impression. But you did.’
‘Because I’m a flirt?’
‘Because you have a pulse.’
‘That isn’t high praise. I meet many people who have a pulse.’
‘I bet you do. I bet you can raise the dead.’
‘That’s not what I meant.’
‘It’s what
I
meant. David has a gleam in his eye which would dull as soon as you left him. You have the power to animate people.’
‘You don’t know me. Or David. He is –’
‘Yes?’
‘I was going to say a barbarian in a suit, but that isn’t strictly true. That’s an impression I had early on. I recognised the power and wrongly assumed it was uncivilised, that it was a brute force. The
trouble is it is super-civilised. Contained. And always has been.’
‘And you love him?’
‘Yes, more than anything else in the world.’
As soon as Emma said this, she knew she meant it. A sudden rain shower could not have changed the mood as quickly as that admission.
Now there was no reason for either of them to remain seated. Each stood.
Moments later, Emma found herself out on the street, her beach bag slung over her shoulder, and walking towards her home, determined to rip her husband from the arms of her friend.
FIVE
‘Where have you been?’ asked David as she climbed the front stairs. He was on the verandah with a coffee, his face paler than usual. He was wearing sunglasses.
‘Sebastian asked me in for a coffee. He saw me coming back from my swim.’
‘I bet he did.’ His expression was deadened. There was no playfulness here. He pulled out his cigarettes.
‘Why do you say it like that?’
‘He was boasting of his recent conquests. Since the tragedy he’s been sailing around the world,
fucking as many women as will have him.’ He lit up.
‘What tragedy?’
‘What? He didn’t tell you? That surprises me. I would have thought he would lead with it. He lost his wife and daughter in a car accident. Since then he’s been in a downward spiral.’
‘He didn’t mention it. I mustn’t be his type. He didn’t try it on with me. Wait, now I’m offended. What’s wrong with me? Maybe I’m not his type,’ she said, smiling. She was still standing at the top of the stairs. David’s mood was hard to decipher. Was he being curt because of his hangover or because she had been with Sebastian? Or was there some other reason? Had Paul spoken with him?
‘You’re his type. He let that one slip.’
‘Is this you being jealous? I hope it is,’ she said, taking a step towards him.
He turned away and looked out at the harbour. ‘I’m not jealous.’
‘Are you sure? It sounds like you are.’ Her tone was flat. How dare he turn away!
‘I’m not.’
‘So you wouldn’t mind if he bent me over the rail on his balcony and fucked me?’
‘I would rip his fucking head off.’
‘And what would you do to me?’
He looked at her but the sunglasses made it impossible to work out what he was thinking.
‘What would you do?’ she repeated. This time her voice was raised.
‘I don’t know.’
Emma knew this wasn’t the time to talk to him. He wouldn’t have slept well on the sofa. His head would be pounding. He was not himself. And he seemed genuinely angry at Sebastian for asking her in for coffee, and with her for accepting it.
But
she
was angry, too. How dare he treat her like this, hangover or no hangover? He had no right to play the wounded husband. Their relationship was one lie after another.
‘OK. You don’t know. Maybe you can answer this one … How long did you think you could get away with fucking Sally behind my back? Can you answer that?’
She saw his whole body flinch as though she had hit out at him. But beyond that, there was no response. He was paralysed. She wished she had waited until he had removed his sunglasses. She wanted to see his eyes.
‘Lost for words?’
‘Em …’
‘You bought her a fucking flat in Kirribilli! My best friend. Who the fuck do you think you are?’
But this was all she could say. She was angry at him, and yet angrier at herself because she couldn’t allow herself the luxury of righteousness. She had no option, she had to retreat.
She headed inside the house, confused. Her mind was no longer clear. What he had done, she had done. There was no way around it. She couldn’t remember how she had untangled the mess while swimming. It had seemed so easy then. This was messy. This was not how she had planned it. Her heart was racing. Her limbs felt weighed down.
She was halfway up the stairs with her bag still on her shoulder before her legs gave way. She landed heavily and gripped the banister to prevent herself slipping down. She had forced Sally onto him. She had practically asked for this to happen. They were only finishing what
she
had started.
Then the obvious questions came. Were they happy together? What were their stolen moments like? What were they like together? Were they good lovers? Well matched? Did David prefer fucking her? Sally was so beautiful. Perfect. She
knew how to make a man happy, too. She said she had wanted a big man. How was he with her? Was he excited by her? Did he rush to her at lunchtime or after work?
Paul was right. She couldn’t live here anymore knowing what she knew. She had to get out. This was all wrong. She
was
the perfect image of a banker’s wife. Her husband was even cheating on her!
Her husband. Never had the word ‘husband’ sounded so ordinary to her. It had meant something entirely different to her moments ago. Something unique. Now it was that word other people use.
David appeared at the bottom of the stairs. She hadn’t heard him come in. He had removed his sunglasses and it looked as though he had been crying.
‘I can’t talk to you,’ said Emma.
‘Em–’
‘If I start I won’t stop. I will not be able to undo anything I say.’
‘I didn’t buy her a flat. It’s rented. A serviced apartment.’
‘That makes it better. Thanks.’
‘I don’t want to lose you.’
He had started to climb the stairs but Emma motioned for him to stay where he was.
‘Can I live with you knowing what I know?’
David stared at her. He had no answer for that.
‘If I can’t I lose a husband and a best friend. If I can I lose my dignity.’
‘Don’t say that.’
‘I was ready to have your baby. I was ready to give up being me. To settle down. To love you as I have never loved anyone, ever.’ She paused to wipe her eyes. ‘Do you know what that means?’
David stared at her, unable to speak.
‘We don’t have many options left, David. I can forgive but I can’t be the aggrieved wife. I can’t live the life I am expected to live now. I need you to know who I am. I need you to accept me as I have accepted you. Or this won’t work.’
‘I have always accepted who you are.’
This was true. He had. What he knew of her.
She rested her head against the banister, staring at him. Her heart hurt. His handsome face was pale, his steady, sure eyes were wandering. She could see he was searching for answers where there were none. The problem-solver was at a loss. She wanted to hug him; to take from him
his troubles; to lift him up so that he could see beyond the barrier of his own philosophies.
‘We got off on the wrong foot.’ Emma looked at him earnestly. ‘In the beginning I had no idea where this was going. I had no idea how much I would love you. You mean everything to me now. But then we were just lovers. We were so busy fucking we didn’t have time for honesty, we were having too much fun. You were so different to the men I’d been seeing. You were so straight. I didn’t know what you could handle. I had to be careful with you. I had to lie.’
‘What did you lie about?’
Emma paused. There would be no return from here.
‘Everything.’
‘Everything?’
‘Everything. And by the time I realised what you meant to me it was too late. There was no going back.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘I’m not the person you think I am.’
‘Who are you then?’
‘Someone better than this.’
For a moment it seemed as though her words had given David some relief. He looked up at
her hopefully. She realised she hadn’t been clear enough.
‘Before I found out about you and Sally, I thought I could do this. Be the wife. Live in this house. Have a baby. I was convinced I could change and be this new person. And I probably could have been. But I’ll never know. I can’t go back to not knowing what I know. You fucked my friend. You made her your mistress, which makes this new life I was trying to live look like an ugly version of the life I had been leading quite happily before we met. If you want to fuck Sally, fuck Sally, but don’t expect me to play my role. I want to have fun too. And I can’t have fun being the good wife.’
‘I don’t understand what you’re telling me, Em. I’m listening. I am. But …’
‘Which is, and always will be, the problem.’
‘Emma, I will stop seeing Sally. We can work this out.’
‘If you knew me you wouldn’t need to stop seeing Sally.’
‘What?’
‘I want you to have what you want. I want to help you get what you want but to do that you have to be my partner. We have to have no secrets.’
‘You’ve lost me again.’
‘You have a lover. A mistress. How does that make you feel?’
‘Like a grub.’
‘Bullshit. How does it make you feel to have two beautiful women loving you?’
David would never have an answer to this question, not while he failed to understand Emma.
‘I think you feel pretty good. I think you wonder why you waited so long to do it. I think you feel as though you’re finally alive. I think you feel like the most potent man on the planet. And I think you feel sexier than you’ve ever felt.’
David couldn’t look at her.
‘That’s how you
should
be feeling. If you’re not, you’re not doing it right, or for the right reasons.’
Emma waited for David to say something. Minutes ticked by. She wondered if his mind had fused. She had to speak,
‘How did it feel the first time? The first illicit kiss? The first illicit touch? When you knew you could have her? When you had her in your arms? When your cock first entered her, knowing you were breaking your promises to me? How did you feel? Were they the most erotic moments of your life? Were they?’
‘Emma, don’t do this. I fucked up. I don’t want to lose you. Tell me what I have to do.’
‘You have to forgive me.’
‘For what?’
‘I haven’t been true to you.’
The visible impact of these words was slight. He did not flinch as he had before, but she saw that their meaning was burrowing into his mind. Over a few silent seconds she saw David’s body become rigid. His jaw clenched. His brow darkened. Over those seconds he had forgiven himself for his transgression. It was forgotten.
She
had betrayed
him
first. Fear and remorse were replaced by anger.
‘Who?’ asked David, in a barely audible whisper.
Emma, too, had changed in the time it took for David to respond. She was remembering Paul’s warning spoken some time ago: ‘Never tell him. Know him. He will never know himself. Therefore, he can’t be trusted.’ She had known instinctively from the beginning that David was not a man she could be honest with. What had changed? Did she really think that because he had transgressed he would be more understanding?