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Who Needs Men Anyway? by Victoria Cooke (7)

With Kate away and Megan working odd hours at the beck and call of her needy clients (yes I know I was one of them), it was down to me and Sam to continue our investigative work. On Saturday mornings, Samantha always went to the gym, so Sam and I had planned to double-check that’s where she really was. We’d had to wait for her to leave home before I could pick Sam up, so by the time we were in the car ready to go, she’d long gone. The plan was simple: Sam would wait outside while I popped in to ask for some information on joining. I’d ask for a tour and hopefully, spot Samantha working out like she was supposed to be.

‘Are you sure you want me to do this?’ I asked him as we pulled into the car park.

‘I’m going out of my mind with suspicion. I need to know.’

‘Okay. You wait here and I won’t be long.’ I slid out of the car and made my way into the reception area of the large sweat-pit.

‘Hello, can I help?’ the cheerful blonde behind reception asked, seemingly catching my look of bewilderment.

‘Morning, Mandy,’ a deep voice interrupted. He was fairly well spoken, with a hint of Mancunian. Something about it was intriguing and made me look. There was familiarity in the stubble dusting his chin, the hair falling into his eyes, and the strong arms.

I gasped when I realised who it was, causing him to turn and look my way. ‘Ouch,’ I added, shaking my hand for effect, ‘stupid bag clasp,’ I lied. He simply nodded and entered the gym. For a moment I stood, dumbfounded at seeing the Me & You guy, Andrew. Chatting through messages was one thing but seeing him in real life was another. I almost giggled; it was bizarre, almost like seeing a celebrity, and I felt compelled to sneak a glance after him.

Eventually, I found my voice. ‘I’d love some information on joining, please, and would it be possible to have a quick look at the facilities?’ I asked, approaching the counter. I was acutely aware of my entire body trembling in shock. It was one thing chatting over the internet in the hope of setting things up for Megan but a face-to-face meeting hadn’t been in the plan.

‘Of course, dear. Give me a sec.’ She swivelled around on her office chair. ‘Dave, can you man the reception for five minutes while I show a lady round?’ A spotty lad of about nineteen or twenty came out clutching a can of cola.

As we walked, the receptionist, Mandy, pointed out the various gym equipment, a studio for group classes, and the ‘relaxation area’. Though how anybody could relax amidst the stench of sweaty trainers was beyond me. As we came out, I heard that voice again coming from around the corner where I’d spotted the free weights. It was pulling me to listen. ‘Chris, how are things?’ His tone suggested he was pleased to see ‘Chris’.

I pulled my phone out of my bag and pointed at it for Mandy’s benefit. ‘Excuse me, I just need to send a quick email.’ She nodded and indicated with her finger she’d be back in a minute.

Pretending to tap on my phone, I kept an ear in the conversation. It was all very well him being nice online when he was out to impress, but a candid snapshot of Andrew would help me decide if he really was a decent match for Megan. ‘Still no lucky lady?’ Chris asked him.

‘No, not yet.’ Andrew let out a shy laugh.

‘I can’t believe the most eligible bachelor in Cheshire hasn’t found himself a girl! In that bar last Saturday, all the women had eyes on you – I was a little bit jealous.’ Chris laughed at the end.

‘Ha-ha, I don’t think so – they’ll have been looking at you wondering if your T-shirt had shrunk in the wash. You do know they come in bigger sizes don’t you?’ I smiled at the humour in his voice.

‘I work hard for these guns!’

I was still smiling when Mandy re-emerged so straightened my face quickly, stuffing my phone back into my bag. ‘All done,’ I said, sorry to be tearing myself away from eavesdropping. At least Andrew did seem like a nice guy.

‘Great, let’s continue the tour.’ She led me to some of the other areas: cardio, refreshments, and so on, but there was no sign of Samantha anywhere and that was worrying. ‘Could I see the changing rooms?’ I asked, hoping for Sam’s sake she was in there.

When I got back to the car, I slumped into the seat for effect. ‘She’s not in there.’ Sam looked crestfallen and my chest ached for him. ‘Are you sure she was going straight to the gym? No plans to stop off at Budgen’s or somewhere on the way?’ I desperately wanted to find a rational explanation for Sam. With Megan, I was naive in thinking that if she found out, everything would be okay and though the weeks had passed, I was still uncertain as to whether or not I’d done the right thing.

He shook his head. ‘No, she was definitely going to the gym. She had on her gym gear and everything. She said she’d be about an hour and a half.’

An hour and a half didn’t seem long enough to have anything more than just a quickie if you factored in travel time and straightening one’s appearance. I didn’t see the point, myself.

‘So what now?’ I asked.

‘Just take me home.’

We drove back to Sam’s house in silence, and as we pulled up outside I turned to him. ‘It might not mean what you think. Perhaps her car broke down or she changed her mind on the way or something. There could be a perfectly rational explanation.’ His phone buzzed as I spoke and for a moment, Sam stared at the screen. ‘What is it?’ I asked. He turned the screen so I could see it.

Finished at the gym but going to pop into town for a bit. See you later. S x

***

The three of us had arranged to meet later that night at Megan’s house. In light of Sam’s mood, I’d considered calling it off, but Megan sent a message to the group saying she had wine and nibbles ready and I felt awful for leaving her alone.

‘I’m off to Megan’s house,’ I called out to James as I was leaving but got no reply. He had his head in case files as usual, I assumed.

When I arrived at Megan’s house, Sam was already there, and the pair of them were nibbling Pringles and drinking rosé. ‘We’re slumming it since Kate isn’t coming to snack-shame us,’ Megan had giggled as she answered the door. I shoved the San Nicasio crisps that I’d decided to treat us all to down into the bottom of my Mulberry tote and pulled out the wine bottle I had instead.

‘You’re like Mary Poppins,’ Megan joked, taking the wine from me.

‘How’s Sam?’ I asked, lowering my voice so he didn’t hear.

‘Seems fine. Why?’ Megan raised an eyebrow in surprise.

‘Didn’t he tell you? His wife wasn’t at the gym when we went to look for her; she’d lied to him,’ I whispered.

‘He hasn’t said a thing. We were just giggling at a dog on Britain’s Got Talent and that’s about it. I was even going to ask if you’d cancelled the whole thing.’

I shook my head. ‘No, he was quite upset earlier.’

Megan led me into the kitchen, where Sam was seated with a glass of wine in his hand, watching the small, wall-mounted flat screen above the dining table.

‘Hi, Sam,’ I said gently, sitting down next to him. ‘Did you speak to Samantha?’

‘She didn’t come home.’ Sam’s whole body was slumped in his seat.

‘Perhaps I just missed her in the gym, Sam – it’s quite big.’

Sam shrugged in reply. ‘I asked James about her visits to his office and he said she was helping out with a case. He didn’t think there was anything odd about it all.’

‘So, back to the drawing board?’ Megan asked, placing a glass of rosé in front of me and shoving the sour cream and chive Pringles my way.

‘I think I’ve changed my mind,’ Sam said, surprising both me and, judging by the wine splutter, Megan.

‘You can’t give up now!’ she burst out. ‘When I found out about Mike I was shocked, hurt, and embarrassed, but I was still glad I found out and that he could no longer play me for a fool. Charlotte and Kate helped me through it, and I wouldn’t turn the clock back to living with Mike while being blissfully unaware he was cheating on me.’

‘But what if I’m wrong?’ Sam asked. ‘What if she isn’t having an affair and finds out I’ve been a part of this ridiculous charade? She’ll leave me anyway and who could blame her?’ He downed his entire glass of wine and Megan looked across the table, willing me to do something, but I wasn’t about to beg Sam to let me catch his cheating wife.

Sam looked at Megan. ‘Would you have done all this if you suspected Mike?’ I watched her carefully, interested to see what she thought about the whole trapping thing.

She threw her arms up in the air. ‘I don’t know. Probably. It’s hard to tell because I never suspected anything – I caught him by pure chance. Charlotte was taking me for a drink at a nice hotel and there he was on a dirty weekend away that his mistress had won in a charity raffle.’ She snorted. ‘How tacky.’ Her words pierced me like a dart.

Sam’s eyes turned to me, and my heart started to race. ‘A charity raffle?’ he repeated. My chest started to feel heavy and I willed him to shut up. I knew where he was going and it was such a long time ago, it didn’t matter any more. ‘Like the charity raffles Charlotte does?’

‘I guess so,’ Megan said. ‘I haven’t given it much thought.’ She hadn’t caught Sam’s insinuation. But I had. I’d sold Sam many a raffle ticket in the past when we were fundraising. My mouth felt dry and my heart was pounding. I racked my brain for something to say to change the direction of the conversation but the words wouldn’t form. Talk about Lauren’s charity ball, vajazzles, anything!

‘What a coincidence,’ Sam continued and I was too late. I looked at Megan’s confused expression, which was slowly melting into a look of understanding.

‘Okay, Sherlock!’ I found myself blurting out before I could stop myself. What are you doing, Charlotte? Shut up. Tell them the vajazzle story. It was no good – coming clean was the right thing to do and it was something I should have done from the start. ‘I sold the raffle ticket to Mike’s waitress on purpose and I knew they’d be at the hotel when I took you there, Megan, because she was the only raffle entrant. I bought all the other tickets.’

I paused to let Megan speak, to say that it’s just water under the bridge or some other old saying that would make me feel better but she didn’t. Instead, she glared at me.

‘I’m sorry,’ I whispered, pleading with my eyes. Sam looked taken aback, perhaps he wasn’t insinuating after all, maybe I just felt guilty because I’d grown close to Megan. She stared at me with wide eyes that as the seconds passed, began to fill with tears. After she didn’t brush it off, I was expecting a bit of anger or a rant about dishonesty, but that didn’t come and being glared at through watery eyes felt much worse. It was hurt combined with crushing disappointment.

My throat felt all scratchy and I couldn’t swallow. ‘Megan, I . . . I’m sorry. I saw Mike with the waitress and didn’t feel like I knew you well enough then to just drop a bombshell like that. I thought you’d be better finding out for yourself. I thought it would help save face for you a little.’ It didn’t sound like as good a plan as I’d initially thought when I said it out loud.

‘So, shopping for the Pilates machine was just a ploy to get me to that hotel?’ she asked, giving nothing away in her tone.

I nodded. I could barely look her in the eye. The whole thing seemed so ridiculous in hindsight.

‘Wow, that’s calculated.’ She shook her head and gave a hollow laugh. ‘And expensive.’

‘I just wanted you to know the truth.’ My voice was a whisper, scared to come out.

‘Meanwhile, you’re telling tall tales, pretending to be shocked when I told you about Mike and then—’ Her words caught in her throat. ‘And then pretending to be my friend.’ She let out a heart-wrenching sob. ‘You’re a spoilt, rich, wife-brat with nothing better to do than use decent folk as your puppets! No wonder the only person in the world that will be friends with you is Kate. Get out.’ Her jaw was clenched together and her eyes wide open. I’d never seen her like this – timid Megan didn’t shout. This is what I’ve done.

I scrambled to my feet. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this,’ I said glancing at Sam for support but got nothing; instead, he stood up and placed a supportive arm around Megan. I made my way to the door and let myself out into the cool night air, climbing swiftly into my car. Before I started the ignition, I sat for a moment picturing Megan’s face as I left. The twisted hurt was etched in even deeper than it was when she came to tell me Mike was cheating on her. Barbed wire had coiled around my stomach and I felt physically sick.

Becoming friends with Megan had been one of the highlights of what could be construed as a pretty crappy year. She was so sweet and genuine, such a far cry from the Emmy and Lauren types I used to think were my friends. What’s more, she put up with me. The thought of losing her sent shockwaves of pain through my chest.

I arrived home to utter darkness. It was only nine-forty-five so I didn’t think James would be in bed. He was probably still slogging away in his office, I thought. Not wanting to disturb him, I took my laptop into the orangery. If Megan found out about the online dating ‘she’d’ been doing too, I dreaded to think what she’d do. I had to delete it.

But when I logged in, I saw a message from Andrew, and I couldn’t bring myself to delete the account without reading it first – Andrew hadn’t done anything wrong after all and he too deserved the truth.

Hi Megan,

If you don’t like pies, I don’t know if we can be friends . . . there’s savoury and sweet . . . they’re applicable to all three courses. What’s not to love?

I do like to travel but haven’t done much in recent years.

I suppose this is the part where I tell you my wife passed away and I’ve not really had anyone to travel with since then. For the first couple of years, I couldn’t imagine going anywhere without her so I didn’t. She wanted me to have a life after she’d gone and just before she died, made me promise to enjoy my time on earth. It’s taken me a while (five years and counting) but I’m finally thinking about moving forward.

Travelling is something I plan to do again and, hopefully, I’ll find someone to do it with. Sorry, didn’t mean to come over all maudlin on a Saturday evening but we’re getting to know one another, aren’t we?

Tell me more about you . . . where’s your favourite place to visit? I love Italy, pretty much any part of it.

Andrew

I froze as a jolt of pain passed through my chest. Not only had I betrayed Megan’s trust and hurt her, I’d also formed a bond with Andrew under false pretences and was about to sever that too, after all he’d been through. I pictured his beautiful face washed with the same anguish as Megan’s. I was a monster.

I put my head in my hands and allowed hot tears to streak down my face. The ugly, smudged make-up all over my skin served to mark how repulsive I’d become on the inside. I felt like I was losing all sense of control, and control was what I did best. I was calm in a crisis; I always knew what to do in a situation. I didn’t cause the situations, for goodness’ sake.

The sound of the front door slamming made me jump. James? I quickly rubbed my face with the sleeve of my dark sweater and closed the screen of my laptop as I heard heavy footsteps plod into the kitchen. It was gone ten, and I’d presumed James was working upstairs when I’d come in. I came over all panicky and picked up a golf umbrella that stood next to the French doors of the orangery. Slowly, I crept through the lounge towards the kitchen and peered around the doorframe, relaxing when I saw that it was James. Something stopped me from walking in and greeting him. His slow, clumsy movements looked odd. Then it hit me – he was drunk. I placed the umbrella down and walked in.

‘James?’

He looked up slowly from a piece of bread that he was buttering. His tie was loose around his neck and the top button of his shirt was open. It was very un-James. ‘Charlotte,’ he mumbled, taking a bite.

‘Have you been drinking?’ I needn’t have asked; the closer I got to him, the stronger he smelt. ‘Have you been smoking too?’ I asked before he had time to answer.

‘I’ve been for a drink with some of the guys from work,’ he slurred.

‘On a Saturday?’ It struck me as odd they’d meet up on a weekend when they spent so much time together during the week. Thursday drinks happened occasionally but James usually grumbled about them.

‘The case is all coming together well, so we wanted to celebrate.’

I was confused. ‘And you didn’t think to tell me?’ We weren’t the kind of couple who just went out without telling the other where we were going.

You were out; you’re always out,’ he said, in a bitter tone that took me aback. James never spoke to me that way.

‘I . . . I shouted up to you. I told you I was going to Megan’s.’

‘Whatever.’ He shoved the last of his bread into his mouth and walked out of the room shooting a look that impaled me.

I’d never seen James that way before. It must be stress – the case and everything must have finally got to him and the best thing to do was to let him cool off and sober up. It would all be better in the morning.

Things were always better in the morning.