Who the hell was this? What absolutely appalling timing.
With the habit born of a decade of domestic drudgery, I was the one who walked to the front door and pulled it open.
“There you are, you little bitch!”
Estelle pushed past me into the main room and Donald followed close behind. I could smell alcohol on his breath as he leered at me. The door hung open as I fell back weakly against the wall.
There could be only one reason for them coming here; only one reason for Estelle to speak to me like that…
They knew.
“What’s going on?” shouted David, his temper fraying with this new incursion.
He stood up and glared at Donald and Estelle.
“Estelle, this isn’t the time or place: Donald, what’s going on?”
“Your little whore of a wife has been fucking my son!” spat Estelle. “My underage son!”
David recoiled and stared at her as if she’d grown two heads.
“Don’t be ridiculous! Have you been drinking again, Estelle, because from the look of you…”
“Ask her!” she taunted him. “See if she denies it!”
David’s disbelief turned to shock: one look at my face was evidence enough.
“Caroline, is this… is this true?”
My knees gave way and I sank onto the couch.
David stared at me, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.
“You’re such a limp dick fucking pencil pusher, Wilson,” snorted Donald. “If you’d been servicing your wife properly she wouldn’t have come sniffing around my son.”
David was helpless to reply, adrift in a scenario he didn’t understand.
“Caroline?”
David’s voice pleaded with me to deny what Donald was saying – but I couldn’t.
“Caroline?” he stuttered again.
“Come on, Wilson,” sneered Donald. “Be a man for once in your life – if you can remember how.”
“I just wanted to see you deny it,” Estelle hissed at me. “I knew I was right about you, pretending you’re so prim and proper. People like you make me sick. Who are you to judge me when you go around getting your kicks with children? Sneaking around behind your husband’s back – or did he know?”
“It’s got nothing to do with David,” I said tiredly. “He and I are getting a divorce.”
“Oh, so that’s the plan, is it?” sneered Estelle. “Trying to blame my son! My seventeen-year-old son! Do you think I’d let you implicate him in your divorce? Do you think for one moment we’d let even a hint of a scandal like that sully our reputation? Or maybe you think you can blackmail your way out of this? Over my dead body, you stuck up little slut. I suppose you’ll say that he attacked you now? Is that it? Blame someone else? Pretending you’re so much better than everyone else when you’ve really been putting it out for all the boys; no doubt you’ve fucked half the Base by now. Well, no, missy! You’re not ruining our name.”
“Shut up, Stell,” said Donald coolly. “I’m running this show, not you.”
Estelle fell silent, her eyes narrowing at me, her expression vicious.
Where did so much hatred come from? I felt myself drowning in their ugly accusations. I didn’t have the strength to think about that: all I could do was try to protect myself. I had to go – now.
“I’m leaving anyway,” I said quietly, leaning forward in a weak effort to get up off the couch even though I was afraid I was going to be sick. “I won’t bother you. You’ll never see me again.”
David’s head jerked up: I saw hurt and pain in his expression along with something else. Was it fear?
I needed to get away – I’d done enough damage already.
I could go straight to New York; Sebastian could catch up with me later. It was only three months – only three months.
I was vaguely aware of the sound of car doors slamming outside and angry voices.
“Oh, that’s much too easy!” snapped Estelle.
She marched over and slapped my face hard. My head rocked back and tears sprang to my eyes. She raised her hand again. I didn’t try to stop her.