‘He has an accomplice, maybe?’
‘I’ve thought about this, but…’
‘You are aware, he’s been involved with someone else for some time?’ Billy interrupted
‘Gregg? No. I doubt it.’ Billy is nodding slowly. ‘Who?’
‘There isn’t a lot I don’t know about him.’ He looks out of the window, whilst turning his heavy watch over and over his wrist.
‘Please understand, nothing you may tell me can possibly surprise me or hurt me. Trust me on this. What is it you know?’
‘He’s been seeing someone for quite a while.’
‘What, as in, another woman?’
Billy nods.
‘Since when?’
‘Long enough.’
‘I’m assuming by that look on you face, you mean, while we were married?’ I spit the last word out, a bone in my throat; it mocks the concept beyond recognition.
He nods at me. ‘Yeah, I believe so, certainly before Jack was born.’
‘You’re serious?’
‘For most of the time you were together.’
‘Wow, you’ve surprised me. Really? Jesus, that does surprise me.’
‘Sorry to be the bearer of—’
‘Don’t be, really, I couldn’t care less. It’s just, I can’t see it, didn’t see it.’ If only I’d known, maybe I could have left earlier. This premise brings bile to my throat. ‘On reflection, I didn’t see many things. Despite my scrutiny. So? Who was it, someone from work?’
He shakes his head. ‘Not to my knowledge. I’m pretty sure she didn’t work in the same arena as him. But she did go on to work for him, in Spain. Some kind of administrator, I suppose he’d call it.’
‘I see, well, I wouldn’t have known her, then.’
‘Samantha Holloway, her name was – or is, I should say. As far as I know, they’re still together. In fact, they’ve a daughter too.’
My head floats to the ceiling, before falling with a thump to the floor. I’m struggling to accept this information. I’d thought you couldn’t surprise me again. I was so wrong. How could she? Even with the note on the back of the article, never would I have believed this possible. ‘Are you sure? Definitely, the correct name?’
‘Yep. Positive. Why, do you know her?’
‘So, you don’t know everything?’
How could she? She hated you, tried to talk me out of marrying you. Refused to have any further contact with me pretty much, if I was with you. Now, I know why. The truth. You hated her. I didn’t see through it. All these years, feeling so incredibly guilty, believing I’d betrayed her. Let her down. Forced to choose you, over her, yet it was her who chose you over me. I’ve despised myself for lying to her, when the truth was she was lying to me. I’m aware of my cheeks colouring, in line with my blood pressure.
‘Eve, you okay?’
‘Sorry.’ I sip tepid coffee. ‘It’s shocked me somewhat. I knew her. We were best friends from school. I let our relationship go, mostly because I hated having to lie to her, in the way I felt I had to, to everyone. Didn’t want her entangled in our disgusting marriage. All of my relationships, back then, were built on layers of deception. Sam asked too many questions, used to make me squirm. I never wanted to deceive her. I’m such an idiot.’
He shakes his head, sighing. ‘Bloody hell, I’m sorry, I’d no idea.’ He leans forward. ‘But can you see – maybe he does have an accomplice after all?’
‘Yes, maybe, shit, I really can’t believe it.’ I contemplate the bar, craving something stronger to swallow. ‘You’re right, maybe the flowers were her doing. God, how could she?’ I let the thought drift – how did I not notice? Perception, always perception, never the truth. I believed in her because I needed to. Based on what I thought I knew. ‘The flowers, the note, he made her send them, prove her allegiance, she felt guilty, hence – sorry?’
‘Sounds plausible.’
‘But it still doesn’t explain the envelope, does it? In part it does.’ I pull the folded photocopied sheet of A4 from my pocket, and begin to unravel it. ‘Here, on the back,’ I read aloud,
Eve,
I didn’t want to have to send this, being so ashamed. And you must hate me, I understand completely. But I wanted you to know, something is going on, something to do with these articles I found. I’m worried you’re in danger. If it is any consolation at all, I too am very scared, terrified. It’s too late for me, I’ve made my bed, so to speak. But, I wanted to warn you, without making matters worse. I hope one day you will understand, be able to forgive me.
DO NOT ATTEMPT TO MAKE CONTACT. PLEASE.
Sam x
I place the note, for Billy to see. ‘Without context, when I read this, I didn’t see it. I assumed she was apologising, feeling guilty for her part in our friendship falling apart. Although I couldn’t quite understand how she knew about him, his actions. Thought, maybe, he’d contacted her, to find me, threatened her? Now I can see gaping holes in my interpretation, but without context nothing makes sense, does it?’
‘It doesn’t, no. And you wanted to think the best of her too.’
‘She’s taken my place, hasn’t she? She’s trapped, terrified. Yet it’s still me he seeks. She was probably only ever another one of his tools, a side prop. How much has he relished forcing her to send me sick flowers, amongst other things, spying on me?’
A reel of information parked in my subconscious plays through my mind: the woman with the sunglasses I bumped into in Truro? Some vague recollection of Ruan, talking about someone watching the clinic, receiving a parking ticket. The cancelled appointment, again, a woman, some excuse about her partner insisting, oh, Jesus, insisting on her accompanying him – to meet with his son. Jack? Dear God, Jack? Why didn’t I listen to Ruan? She was attempting to warn me. ‘But still, how did this—’ I stab at the dirty scrap of paper ‘—get into my briefcase?’
‘Does anyone else have access? Think, any access at all, to your home or your briefcase, other than your work colleagues and Jack?’
I shake my head. ‘No.’
‘Sure?’
‘To my home, no. Well, there’s Gloria next door – she has a key. But it can’t have anything to do with her.’ But then, why not? So far, it appears, I’ve only seen what I needed to see, but even so. Not lovely Gloria.
‘Can you be 100 per cent sure, Eve? Even now, with this latest revelation? Samantha Holloway is in the UK, by the way.’ He twists his watch clockwise once, twice. ‘I have the photos to prove it.’
‘I’ve seen her too. I just, didn’t see her.’
‘Did you know she’s been to St Agnes… near your home?’
I flash back to seeing Gloria in conversation with a glamorous-looking woman last week. Only glimpsing the woman from behind. Purposely lowering my head, avoiding conversation. Then, Gloria’s comment from a couple of days ago patters through my jumbled mind – ‘A nice surprise, was it, love?’ I assumed she was referring to the cake she’d left for us. Thinking about it now, she often leaves us treats; she’s never remarked upon it before, being such a giving person.
Billy and I walk in silence to my car. His parting words ricochet around the cortical regions. ‘Eve, I want him for myself. I intend, or should I say need, to have my time with him. I’ve waited a long enough.’ I want to say maybe it is too late, that we don’t always get what we wish for. Until I think better of it. He looks on as I close my car door.
I need to have my moment in time too, if I find you first. This time, I need to see for my own eyes that it’s over.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Before