‘Don’t know. Can’t see the street from here. I’ll go down the corridor.’
She was longer than he would have expected; when she came back she said, ‘There is a man lurking outside. And I went down to reception, asked if anyone had tried to come in, or asked for me. She said they hadn’t, so I told her if they did to send them away. Oh, Tom. I’m scared.’
‘Don’t be. No one will get in there. But I do think it could all get quite – difficult. Anyway, it’s happened, can’t turn the clock back.’
She was silent.
‘Josh is writing an article about it too,’ said Tom.
‘What! How could he?’
‘Alice, he’s doing it for the best. If they all know, better a helpful article from him, defusing the situation. Which he’s promised.’ He sounded exhausted, drained of emotion. The nightmare evening had continued, confronting Donald, and a torrent of abuse down the phone.
‘Now, if you do have to go out in the morning, ignore anyone who tries to question you. And I’m afraid there could be quite a gang of them. But it would be better if you didn’t go out at all.’
‘I won’t.’
Another silence.
‘Alice?’ said Tom. ‘We need to talk.’
‘Yes. Yes, I agree. Not tonight, though.’
‘Of course not. But – soon. Maybe after the election.’
‘Oh,’ she said, and there was infinite bitterness in her voice, ‘the election. Yes, of course.’
‘Alice –’
‘Tom, we said not tonight.’
‘No, all right. Well, I’d better go. I’ll ring you later, just to check all’s well there. Don’t ring me. The children are fine, both asleep. Goodnight, Alice.’
‘Goodnight, Tom.’
The chill between them could be felt even down the phone lines.
Diana lay in the bath with a glass of champagne, struggling to recover from the emotional exhaustion of her hour with Tom. She had never thought to feel anything close to sympathy for him again, but looking at him, hunched over on the sofa, his head buried in his arms, hearing the deep sobs racking him, she did feel it, and it was with genuine tenderness that she said, ‘Oh, Tom, my darling Tom, I am so, so sorry,’ and moved to sit beside him, her arms round him, drawing him close to her, her own tears mingling with his.
It had been the Laura part of the story that moved her; if Alice had flouted his wishes and taken Kit to a private hospital, that was fair game – and she felt something close to admiration for her, for refusing to be browbeaten by Tom’s politics and putting Kit’s needs first. But to tell him that she had lied to him about Laura’s death, that perhaps it had been needless, that without his obstinacy in refusing the better hospital, the greater skills, Laura and Hope could have been alive today, that was cruelty of the most savage kind. Wilful, dreadful cruelty, such as she would not have suspected the sweet-faced, gentle Alice capable of. It was the same kind of destructive cruelty, born of grief, targeted with savage accuracy, that had driven Johnathan to accuse her of aborting their baby; and she knew, from her own unhealed wounds, how truly dreadful the pain could be.
He clung to her, sobbing, and they sat there for a long time; then he sat back and looked at her, took her hand and said, ‘I loved her so much, Diana. I would have died for her, willingly, and instead of that I killed her. If I had said yes to Jillie’s offer, Laura would be alive today. Laura and Hope, and—’
‘Tom, you don’t know that.’
‘I do,’ he said. ‘I do know it. There were signs that would have saved her, signs that were missed – I’ve looked it up since – that would have told them, alerted them, things that could, should have been done. She would have been safe those last dreadful days, and I left her in danger.’
‘You can’t be sure that the other hospital would have picked up on those signs, Tom, they—’
‘I do know.’ He was shouting now, angry with her and the platitudes she was offering, and she could see why.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said quietly, ‘and yes, I expect they would. And Tom, my heart breaks for you, it really does. But—’
‘I never really loved Alice,’ he said, interrupting her. ‘I can see that now. She was sweet and kind – or so I thought – and she loved me and it was the end of my loneliness, but what I felt for her was nothing, set against my love for Laura. I should never have married her, it was wrong . . .’
‘Maybe. But you did. And Tom, you must put Laura behind you, leave her in peace.’
‘I will, I will try.’
‘You must.’
‘You’re very wise, Diana. You know, I often think I love you more than I love—’
‘Don’t say it.’ She put two fingers on his mouth. ‘You don’t love me. Well, only as I love you, as a very special, extremely sexy friend.’ She paused, then said with a glimmer of a smile, ‘Fine pair we’d make. Selfish, stubborn, devious – goodness, just be grateful you’ve been spared that, Friend Tom.’
He managed a ghost of a grin then, blew his nose, and wiped his eyes.
‘You’re right. Of course.’
‘And think of the children we’d have had. Appalling. Whereas I’m sure yours are as nice as mine. Thanks to our spouses.’
‘Not sure about Charlie,’ he said. ‘The devil’s somewhere in his ancestry. Oh, Diana, how am I ever going to forgive Alice? Or trust her? Trust is such a big part of love.’
‘It is indeed,’ she said, ‘and you won’t forgive her, any more than I’ve forgiven Johnathan about – well, you know, the baby. But she has things to forgive too, don’t forget. Pretty bad ones. Like – well, you and me. She may not know about me – yet. But she still might find out. And then her trust in you will be gone.’
‘Well – yes, it would. And Josh knows, he saw me arriving at your house that night he was there too.’
‘Really? Well, he won’t tell. Much too nice. Sweet boy,’ she added rather absently.
‘No, but he’s a journalist. Dangerous.’
‘Alice could find out any number of ways. The point is, you’ve done each other great wrongs. As had Johnathan and I. It helps, Friend Tom, in the recovery process, admitting that sort of quid pro quo.’
‘Oh, Diana. You’ve made me feel better. I know I’m not allowed to say it, but I do love you. There. I won’t do it again. Last time.’
‘Good,’ she said briskly.
‘Look – I think you’d better go now. Mrs Hartley next door will be bringing Charlie back, and I promised her I’d collect Lucy soon.’
‘And I have a hot date with a gossip columnist. How he’d love to get his hands on this story. But he won’t. Don’t worry.’ She stood up, and then bent to kiss him.
‘Goodbye, darling Tom. Be brave.’
‘I don’t have any choice.’
‘No. You don’t, I’m afraid.’
Chapter 60
‘I think,’ said Leo Bennett, ‘we should go on to dance somewhere. You know what they say about dancing?’
‘What do they say about dancing?’ said Diana, meeting his eyes. What was it about looking into eyes that was so sexy? How did it convey you to some molten place deep within you, a place that moved and stirred and hungered? How did that happen?
‘They say it’s a vertical expression of horizontal desire.’