Laura ruefully remembered her polite, aloof responses over dinner. ‘I don’t think it was much fun for him.’
She was half expecting an admonishment of some kind, but Isabella took a long draught of her drink, then said, ‘He’ll get over it.’
There it was again, the dam bursting and relief swamping her, and she started to well up. For God’s sake! This was ridiculous. She blinked quickly, knowing this overreaction to a kindness, a much-needed reconciliation, was all because of Daniel, and to some extent Howard. She hadn’t had a reply to her letter and was beginning to wonder if she ever would. What if they didn’t speak before Christmas, or Christmas bypassed them altogether? What if it went on even longer, for a year, two? Maybe they’d just bump into each other on the street one day. Nod an acknowledgement to each other. Perhaps so much time would pass they’d get used to being without each other. This thought was so unbearably sad it almost made her stagger, collapse weakly onto the sofa.
‘Laura, is everything OK?’
She realized she’d barely heard her and adjusted her gaze so she could refocus on her friend.
‘You seem a bit . . .’
‘What?’ Her voice caught.
‘Preoccupied. Has something happened?’
Laura tried to smile. ‘Like what?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Honestly, things couldn’t be better.’
Izzy didn’t believe her, she could tell.
‘You can talk to me, you know. I’m your friend. Forget this silly little spat.’ Izzy squeezed her arm warmly, softened her voice. ‘You and I, we’ve been through everything.’
She almost did then. She longed to, in her head. But how did she start? The lie had made her too ashamed – she couldn’t bear for anyone else to know what she’d done, and she was afraid of what Izzy would think of her. She looked at Izzy’s face, open and kind, and forced a smile. ‘Really, there’s nothing.’
Izzy studied her carefully, then acknowledged she was being pushed away. She looked hurt. ‘Fine,’ she said, and in that word, Laura felt a door close between them. It was awkward then and she heard herself making excuses.
‘Suppose I should be getting back. Haven’t fed Moses yet.’ She knew Izzy was aware she was just making stuff up. It was feeble and depressing and she suddenly had to get out of there. Usually when they said goodbye, they would have something planned – ‘See you tomorrow’, ‘Meet you for lunch, Tuesday’ or ‘I’ll give you a call about yoga’ – but this time there was nothing.
‘See you soon,’ Laura eventually went for, as she briefly kissed Isabella’s cheek and then walked down the path and looked for a cab. She hesitated before looking back, as she was unsure of what Izzy’s expression would be, and then when she did, meaning to smile and reassure them both, she just caught sight of the front door as it was closed shut.
The house was cold when she got in, and dark. She switched on the heating and went to make herself some tea, but when she got the milk from the fridge, she saw a half-bottle of wine and poured a glass of that instead. She knew drinking wasn’t going to help with her melancholy mood, but what the hell. She debated whether to make anything to eat and then decided she would, for Howard too, as it was his first day back after a work conference and he hadn’t texted to say he’d be late.
Having something to do made her feel a little better and she switched on the radio and started a bolognese sauce. By the time she heard the lift come up from the den, it was ready. She decided that instead of the dining room, they would eat in the kitchen tonight. It would make a change and it’d be good for them to sit somewhere different, somewhere old habits would not take hold. She was just setting the table when Howard walked in. He stopped when he saw what she was doing.
‘Hi. Hungry?’ she asked brightly, her hands full of spoons and forks.
He looked across at the hob.
‘It’s spaghetti bolognese.’
Howard nodded and went to wash his hands at the sink.
‘Can I get you a drink?’
Howard tensed. ‘Will you stop?’
‘Stop what?’
‘This stupid pretence.’
Laura smiled, genuinely bamboozled, which seemed to irritate him more. Then she noticed how cold he was, how angry.
‘I never had you down as being so . . .’
‘What?’
He hesitated. ‘Spiteful.’
She was startled to find how much he could still hurt her. He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a letter, then put it on the breakfast bar. She looked at the envelope. It was addressed to Marianne Parker. She instinctively recoiled. His girlfriend’s letters? Why was he bringing them home? Then she looked closer, frowning. The handwriting – it was hers. She slowly drew the envelope towards her.
‘Open it. Although of course you already know what’s inside.’
She pulled out the notepaper – her notepaper from her writing desk – and unfolded the letter.
Dear Marianne,
I’ve been wanting to write this for a while, but it’s never quite seemed the right moment. And then I realized there never was going to be a right moment. What was I waiting for? You to do the decent thing and get your blood-sucking proboscis out of my husband? I’m sick of being ignored, taken advantage of. You are a vile human being. You just take what you want without any thought to the effect it might have on others. And you do this with seemingly no conscience. I hope you’re punished for this, that the worst things happen to you and your family. I hope you suffer some horrible accident. It would be karma if it were disfiguring.
It would be justice.
There, I feel better now. Some things just have to be said.
Laura Cavendish
She dropped it as if it were corroding the skin on her fingertips. ‘I didn’t write this.’
Howard pulled a face.
‘I promise I didn’t.’ But it looked like her handwriting. Then in a rush she knew. Her mind grew stricken as she tried to work it out. How had she done it? How did she know what her handwriting was like? How had she managed to forge it so well, and when had she got the notepaper? She saw Howard watching her.
‘Howard, Cherry’s forged this note, made it look like it was from me.’ She pushed the letter towards him. ‘It looks like my handwriting, but it’s not quite the same.’ Suddenly she noticed something. ‘Look at the “p”s. I don’t quite join the loop and she does – look.’
He sat silently for a moment and she could tell he was trying to hold his temper. ‘Cherry? Really, Laura? In a minute you’re going to tell me she’s also responsible for the crisis in the Middle East and global warming.’
‘No, no. You have to listen. Howard, about a month ago, she came to my office. Told me she knew that I’d lied about Daniel. And she said she was going to take everything away from me. She’s threatening me. Somehow she’s got this paper. She’s been in the house . . .’ The thought chilled her.