The Affair

‘He wouldn’t have known!’ Alicia shouted behind her. ‘He wouldn’t have done the maths if you hadn’t told him!’

Jessica turned back, two bright spots on her cheeks, her expression livid. ‘But Justin would have! He’d already done the maths, Alicia. He knew. And, if you ask me, it was about bloody time he did!’

Alicia stared at her, her heart feeling as if it was fragmenting piece by painful piece. ‘You wanted him to find out, didn’t you?’

‘Of course I didn’t want him to find out.’ Jessica sighed short-temperedly. ‘But if you’re asking whether I’m glad he knows, then yes, I am. You should have told him, Alicia. It wasn’t fair to keep him under false pretences. You should have given him a chance at another relationship.’

Alicia laughed – a short, disbelieving laugh. ‘With you.’

Jessica notched up her chin. ‘If that’s what he’d wanted, then yes. Why not?’

‘Why not?’ Alicia almost choked out the words. ‘He’s my husband!’

‘And you don’t appreciate him!’ Jessica countered angrily. ‘You had the perfect life, the perfect family, everything I ever wanted. You didn’t deserve it, Alicia.’

She was jealous. Alicia was utterly stunned. So jealous she would have risked Sophie’s happiness? Justin’s?

‘You were so busy fluttering your bloody eyelashes and blushing the first time you saw him, it never occurred to you I might be interested in him,’ Jessica ranted on, obviously letting go of the frustration she’d bottled up inside for many, many years. ‘That he might have been interested in me. Oh no. You just moved in like a cruise missile, grabbing him for yourself, always getting everything you want because you’re so obviously needy. But you didn’t want him, did you? You lied to him, deceived him, cheated…’

Realising she might have gone a step too far, she stopped suddenly.

Alicia clenched her teeth hard. ‘Did you give him Sophie’s mobile number?’ she demanded, her fury now bubbling white-hot inside her. ‘Paul Radley. Did you give him Sophie’s number?’

Jessica held her gaze. ‘She’s his daughter,’ she said, tilting her chin defiantly.

‘My daughter!’ Alicia’s fury spilled over. ‘My husband!’ She stepped forward to land a stinging slap on Jessica’s face, who was even now unrepentant. ‘You’re sad,’ she seethed. ‘A very sad, bitter woman, who I was fool enough to listen to for far too long. I hope you’ll be happy on your own, Jess.’ Looking her over contemptuously, Alicia turned to fly up the stairs for her things.

‘Where are you going?’ Jessica shouted after her.

‘To find my family!’





Sixty-Three





JUSTIN





Sitting with the heels of his hands pressed hard against his eyes, his chest heaving with a toxic mixture of raw anger and anguish that far outweighed his physical pain, Justin struggled to get a grip on his emotions. He needed to. Coping mechanisms weren’t going to work. Nothing was going to work, but he needed to.

Picking up the photos from that long-ago wedding, several of which he’d now had enlarged, he studied them again. Her bridesmaid’s dress was pastel blue; the colour suited her fair complexion and caramel-coloured hair. It was a sleeveless dress with thin shoulder straps. He recalled how she’d slathered herself in fake tan the night before – to hide her pale skin, she’d said. Her first lie, one of a succession of lies. How could he have been so blind? How? He was a doctor! He’d seen this type of bruising a thousand times. The concealer she’d also applied, some of which she’d got on the front of the dress – he vividly remembered her trying to sponge it off before she left the house – had clearly eventually worn off.

She’d worn a cardigan at the reception. Said she was cold. He’d been sweltering. But he’d also been preoccupied, too busy with his own problems to see the evidence that was right before his eyes. Bruises. Finger-shaped bruising on both of her arms. Livid, purple-black bruises – meaning they were only a few days old, inflicted, therefore, around the night she’d stayed with her friend. Got so drunk with her friend she’d been ill.

Had it just been drink, he wondered, his gut tightening, his jaw clenching. She’d been hungover the next day; that much she’d told him. She’d also been dizzy, her movements sluggish, her limbs heavy. She’d had an upset stomach. All the symptoms of a bug. They were also the after-effects of any number of sedative-hypnotic drugs: flunitrazepam, gamma-hydroxybutyrate, ketamine, Rohypnol. All available on the black market, the latter easily purchased in Europe for use as a sleeping pill – or to render someone helpless in order to carry out a sexual assault.

Swallowing back the bile in his throat, Justin pressed his knuckles against his temples and tried to think rationally. Was he going completely insane? Imagining this? Looking for explanations for the inexplicable that were in no way preferable? She’d seen Paul Radley more than once. She’d said she had.

Why?

And if he was right about this, why the hell would she have lied to him?

It made no sense. None of it. But going slowly out of his mind or not, one thing he wasn’t imagining were those bruises.

Sucking in a breath, he glanced upwards and then pulled himself to his feet. Walking across to the drinks table, he considered his options, picked up the whisky, tested the weight of it, then – emitting a roar that came from his soul – hurled it against the far wall.

Sitting by and doing nothing simply wasn’t an option.





Sixty-Four





ALICIA





Alicia jumped as her phone rang.

Thank God! Alicia seized on it. ‘Justin, where are you?’ she said immediately, unable to keep the wretchedness from her voice. ‘I’ve been so worried. I thought something might have happened to you. Are you all right?’

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to disappear like that, or not to call you, I just…’

‘Needed some space?’ Alicia filled in sadly.

‘Definitely.’ Justin drew in a breath. ‘I have to see you, Alicia. Can we talk?’

Alicia felt the familiar knot of tension tighten in her stomach. He didn’t sound agitated. Drained, yes, but not angry. ‘When?’ she asked him.

‘Now. I’m outside.’

Outside the house? Alicia went to the window, and sure enough, he was parked outside. Clearly, he didn’t want to come into the house, which he would always normally do. Presumably because he wanted to avoid Jessica, which confirmed what her sister had said. Something had gone on between them, but not the something that at least one of them had hoped.

‘I’ll be one minute,’ she said, nodding as he glanced up at the window.

Debating whether to take her things out with her, Alicia decided to leave them where they were. Appearing with her bags would only raise more questions, and she didn’t want that. No doubt Justin wouldn’t want to wonder about what she might be up to or where she might be going either. She actually didn’t have a clue where she would go. A hotel, she supposed, at least for tonight.

‘Alicia?’ Jessica came out of the lounge as she reached the hall. ‘Can we talk?’

Alicia shook her head, incredulous. Did she honestly think they could? Now? Could she not see the damage she’d done? They still didn’t know what had happened to Sophie. It was something Alicia tried hard not to imagine. She’d thought they were close – as close as two sisters with completely different lifestyles could be. That they would be there for each other in a crisis. She’d been so wrong. Jessica had never been the sister she’d thought she was. Instead, she was a twisted person, driven by jealousy. She’d wanted children desperately. She’d wanted what Alicia had, and was obviously prepared to go to any lengths to get it. Alicia felt for her, even now, but she couldn’t ever forgive her for manipulating her own situation – or, more hurtfully, Justin’s – to her own ends.

‘I have to talk to Justin,’ she said, still not able to even look at her.

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