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Whoever it was who had said that the truth didn’t hurt couldn’t possibly have had a good understanding of the vulnerability of the human psyche, especially the female human psyche.
* * *
‘Marcus…’
Marcus frowned. He had arrived home late and tired. It had been a bad day, made worse by his own awareness of his feelings of guilt over this morning’s row. He knew that they needed to talk, but right now…
‘Marcus…’
He turned round abruptly. ‘Not now, Eleanor, please,’ he protested. ‘I’ve got a flight to catch and I’m already running late. Look,’ he added bitterly, ‘if the house means so much to you then go ahead and buy it. I’ve tried explaining to you how I feel, but you obviously don’t consider my feelings to be important, so go ahead. Do what the hell you like. But I…’ He broke off as he saw her face, suddenly sharply aware of what
he was saying and doing. ‘Nell…’
The doorbell rang. Ignoring him, Eleanor went to answer it. ‘It’s your taxi,’ she told him quietly, coming back. Marcus cursed under his breath. There wasn’t time now to explain, to tell her…
‘Look, Nell, I’ve got to go. When I come back…’
Quietly, without responding to him, Eleanor walked past him.
He had been gone less than fifteen minutes when the icy calm of her anger splintered and the pain broke through.
Why hadn’t she told him that it wasn’t the house she wanted to discuss… why had she let him leave like that?
She glanced at the clock and snatched up her keys; there was still time to catch him before his flight left.
She was lucky and had a good run to the airport. At Heathrow the terminal itself was very busy and it took her several minutes to make her way towards the First Class check-in desk. As she pushed her way past the travellers and cases she could see Marcus standing with his back towards her. As she watched him, a small yearning ache began inside her.
She was just about to go to him, to call his name, when she saw the woman walking towards him.
It was as though a giant fist was squeezing her heart, the pain, the betrayal she was experiencing too intense to be borne.
Barely able to breathe, never mind move, she watched as the American joined Marcus, linking her arm through his, pressing her body close to his, leaning her face against him.
After the pain came sickness, a cold, sweating nausea similar to that which preceded a faint.
Dizzily Eleanor staggered back away from them, quickly turning on her heel before they looked round and saw her, completing her humiliation.
Despite the accusation she had flung at him before, she had never really believed that Marcus would be unfaithful to her.
‘Come with me,’ Marcus had urged her, and she had refused. When had he decided to take the American girl instead? Were they already having an affair, or was this trip to be the start of it?
Her tears blinded her as she pushed her way through the uncaring crowds in the busy airport.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
THE telephone rang. Sleepily Zoe reached for the receiver, at the same time automatically moving over in the bed, searching for the heavy warmth of Ben’s body to snuggle into, only remembering as she picked up the phone that Ben wasn’t there.
‘Zoe, darling, I’m sorry to ring so early but I wanted to catch you before you left for work. Could you possibly make lunch today?’
As she heard her mother’s voice Zoe sat up in bed and then tensed as she felt the familiar onset of nausea.
Somehow she managed to hold it at bay, quickly agreeing to her mother’s request so that she could end the phone call and rush to the bathroom.
After she had finished being sick she stood there for several minutes, tears of shock and self-pity rolling down her face.
This should not be happening to her; she should not be having to face this unexpected and unwanted trauma on her own.
Ben should be here with her, sharing it with her; Ben, who was equally responsible for what had happened… Ben, who seemed so oblivious to what she was feeling that he had not even noticed…
