Conversation is stilted. Oddly enough, I miss Robert. I hadn’t understood until he’d gone, but his presence provided a sponge that drew the tension out of the atmosphere. Without him I can almost hear the uncomfortable fizz in the air.
‘So, Amber, where did you grow up?’ Mum asks, after a silence that lasts so long even Tom looks like he’s going to crack.
‘South London.’
‘And what about your family? Are they still there?’
There is an edge to Mum’s tone that makes me look from one to the other. Even Tom looks puzzled.
‘Mum died twelve years ago,’ Amber says. She seems oblivious to Mum’s mood. ‘I don’t have any contact with my father. He’s Norwegian.’
I’d swear she told me he was German.
‘But let’s not talk about depressing things.’ She smiles. ‘Let’s talk about nice things. Weren’t the children fantastic this afternoon? We should have filmed it.’
‘I filmed some of it on my phone,’ I say, glancing at Tom. He doesn’t react.
‘Oh good. Could you email it to Robert?’
I say I will and rack my brains for something else to talk about, but Amber gets there first.
‘You’re very quiet, Tom. You’ve barely touched your food.’
He looks down at his plate, rubs his fingers through his hair and smiles in a way that shows it’s an effort. ‘I’m not hungry.’ He pauses, remembering his manners. ‘How’s Robert doing?’
‘Oh, he’s all right. He flies to Singapore tomorrow, so he’s very busy. Fingers crossed this deal works out. I’m trying not to think about it too much, but it’ll make all the difference if it does.’
Tom takes a mouthful, chews it and swallows without showing any sign of enjoying the food. He holds the fork as he speaks. ‘What’s happening with the house? Have you exchanged yet?’
‘No. Probate’s taking forever. But that’s to our advantage because we’re still getting the deposit together. Robert’s trying to negotiate them down to seven per cent. It’ll happen though. I’m determined.’
‘I’m sure you are.’
‘I expect Vicky was the same when you were going for Coleridge Street.’
He looks at me then and I hold his gaze. Under the table my fingers pull at a paper napkin. He doesn’t smile. I see a flash of lightning, followed about twenty seconds later by thunder booming in the distance.
‘Did you see that?’ Mum says.
‘Yes,’ Tom says. ‘Vicky tends to get what she wants when she puts her mind to it.’
Amber raises her eyebrows. ‘Is that how she got you?’
‘You could say that.’
‘Uh, Amber dear,’ Mum interrupts. ‘Perhaps we should clean up now, before we all get too tired.’
We finish at half past ten, at which point I go to bed. Even though I know I’m relying on them too heavily, I pop a sleeping pill out of its blister and swallow it. I half expect Tom to stay in one of the two unused bedrooms but he joins me. He gets undressed in the bathroom. I listen to him drop his clothes on the floor and clean his teeth. He takes ages and when he gets in beside me he’s careful not to touch me.
‘Is now a good time to talk?’ I ask. I lean up on my elbow. He doesn’t turn round.
‘I’m tired.’
‘But we can’t go to sleep without saying anything. You have to at least let me explain.’
‘What is there to explain? You had an affair. It’s pretty simple, isn’t it?’
‘No, it isn’t. It’s complicated. And I didn’t have an affair. We never did anything.’
Frustrated by his obstructiveness I switch on the bedside light and he screws up his eyes. There is such a distance between us now that I’m scared I’m not going to be able to bridge it. This has never happened before. Even when we’ve rowed I’ve still felt close to him, known that he’s my friend and that the anger will pass. Now I’m not so sure. His profile is unreadable, the set of his mouth implacable. It’s completely my fault, but I’m still hoping for something, a soft area, his Achilles’ tendon, something that might give if pressed hard enough.
I touch his shoulder and he turns his head with an impatient snarl. He looks so angry, so unlike himself, that I pull my hand away.
‘I made a mistake and I’m sorry. I love you.’
He sits up and shuffles back against the cushioned headboard. ‘Tell me what that means to you. Because you know something, Vicky, I don’t think you’ve ever genuinely loved anyone. You’re like your mum. Never content. Always wanting the next thing, whether it’s a house or a man. Nothing is ever going to be enough for you.’
‘That’s unfair.’
‘Why is it unfair? You were thinking about moving when you went to look round that house, weren’t you? And you must have considered leaving me when you had your little fling with David.’ He sneers the name. ‘Don’t tell me you didn’t imagine what it would be like, because I won’t believe you.’
‘I didn’t. I never would have left you!’
‘Well, that makes me feel so much better.’
There is a long pause. Both of us are staring at anything but each other.
Eventually I speak, but quietly, hoping to pull his anger back a notch. ‘I don’t know why I did it. I have no excuse.’
‘Well, you obviously aren’t happy with me.’
‘I am happy with you. It’s just, since I got pregnant with Josh, I think I must have gone a little mad.’ I start to cry and wipe my eyes on the edge of the duvet. I despise myself for using this tactic, even though the tears are real. I could have stopped them if I really wanted to.
‘So you’re blaming it on your hormones now? That’s convenient.’
‘I’m not. I know it’s down to me. I’m trying to explain that I haven’t really been myself lately.’
‘Or perhaps you have. Perhaps all this time you’ve been acting a part and this is the real you.’
‘I promise you I’ve asked myself that. I’ve looked at Mum’s behaviour over the years and wondered if I’m fighting against my true nature, but you know, even if I am, that’s my choice. You are the only man I want.’
‘Oh great. That’s hardly reassuring. And why should I want to be with a woman who needs to fight her attraction to other men?’
‘Am I supposed to believe you’ve never been attracted to anyone else?’
He doesn’t respond. I sit up. ‘I’ll take that as a no then. I don’t give a monkey’s if you fancy other women from time to time. It’s normal human behaviour. I want to be with you. We love each other.’
‘Do we? Are you sure about that? Or is it another thing you’ve forced yourself to believe, because it means security?’
‘It’s not like that.’ I am digging myself such a big hole. I blurt out, ‘I wish we were at home. It’s hard to think straight with Amber around.’
He laughs grimly. ‘You mean the woman I’m supposed to be shagging on the side. Christ, I never had you down as a hypocrite.’
‘I did not sleep with him. You have to believe me.’
I slide down in the bed and we lie with our backs to each other and what feels like an acre of space between us.
‘Infidelity is not just about sex,’ Tom says into the darkness. ‘It’s about loyalty as well. You know that as well as I do.’
The tension in my chest increases, as if my ribcage has tightened around my lungs. Rain patters on the terraces and the pool, splashing off the long spear-like leaves of the palm trees. It acts like a lullaby, comforting me as the drug takes hold and I fall asleep.