James arrived home about an hour after me. I assumed he’d seen to his needs before locking up. The very thought made my stomach churn. Flashes of imagination kept bursting into my head uninvited. No amount of veg-chopping had managed to keep them at bay but it wasn’t for lack of trying – I’d amassed enough chopped carrots to supply a school canteen.
‘I have some explaining to do,’ he said, keeping a safe distance from me as he entered the kitchen. His head was lowered but he managed to look me in the eye for a moment.
‘We’ll eat first.’ I placed a steaming plate of lamb chops and vegetables down in front of him. He eyed it with suspicion. ‘It’s okay, I haven’t laced it with cyanide or anything.’
‘I didn’t think that you would have, I just . . .’ He didn’t finish whatever it was he was going to say. It didn’t really matter. Lamb chops were on the Sunday menu this week so lamb chops were served.
We sat at opposite ends of the dining table and ate in silence. I found the meat hard to swallow; it was as though my throat had narrowed, closed up almost, and its walls had turned to Velcro, clinging desperately to everything I tried to force down. I sipped my water, pushed my plate to the side and watched him tuck in heartily. Listening to him chew grated on me. Every mouthful he took, I found myself wishing would choke him. I took a breath and carried my plate to the bin where I scraped in the lot, knowing full well it would rattle him. He hated food waste and always loved an extra chop. He remained silent.
‘Charlotte, we should get this out in the open now. This . . . silence, it’s juvenile. We should address the situation at hand like adults.’
‘Address the situation at hand? What situation might you be referring to? It appears you’ve been “addressing situations” that are a little beyond your remit recently,’ I hissed. ‘Do you even have a big case on or was that a lie?’
He swallowed hard enough that I could see his Adam’s apple bob up and down, but he didn’t speak. I huffed. ‘You don’t even have an excuse!’ I shook my head. ‘That was Sam’s wife! He suspected she was having an affair – not with you, mind. The poor man has been out of his mind with worry.’
‘You’ve just caught me cheating and you’re bothered about Sam?’
I glared at him. ‘I’m not the type to wallow in self-pity. You know that. Sam will be distraught, but you don’t care about him, either of you – you’re just out for yourselves. No wonder you were too tired to try for a baby. You disgust me!’ I barricaded my tear ducts with a force I didn’t know I had. James would not see me cry.
‘There it is,’ he said, almost smugly, as though my anger would in some way be a step towards putting this little hiccup behind us.
To be honest, I wasn’t sure how to react. I’d seen movie reactions and I’d read books about scorned lovers, but my instinct wasn’t to throw plates or slap him across the face. I didn’t know how to react because I felt numb. Was it even real?
‘I can’t deal with you right now. Why don’t you go and call your mother back? Tell her what you’ve been up to,’ I said with a sideward glance, before heading up to the master suite and locking the door.
As I lay on the bed, my stomach was still knotted. Perhaps I’d known all along, subconsciously or something. Or perhaps it was the prospect of telling Sam about my discovery. I needed someone to talk to. Usually, that would be Kate or James, or more recently, Megan. Since Kate was still on her romantic break in Paris, I had no choice. I pressed Megan’s name on my phone’s screen and let it ring. With each ring that went unanswered, I thought about hanging up. Megan wouldn’t care about James’s cheating – she’d probably think I deserved it. But I convinced myself she’d want to know for Sam’s sake and that’s what stopped me cancelling the call.
‘What is it, Charlotte?’ she answered wearily, but at least she’d answered.
‘Megan, I don’t know where to start.’
‘How about starting with an explanation. Why did you lie to me?’
I didn’t even know. All I knew was that at the time, I’d genuinely thought it was the right thing to do. ‘I’m so sorry,’ I whispered, before managing to find some strength in my voice. ‘I thought it was better to find out for yourself because I thought it would save you the embarrassment of others knowing your business and give you the chance to process it all and tell people when you were ready.’
‘Or you could have saved me from seeing them together. You could have prevented that pain by letting me down gently.’
‘I know.’ My whisper of a voice faltered. She was right. There was no way I’d be able to shake the image of Samantha’s naked body from my mind for a while.
‘Charlotte? Is everything okay?’ Megan had softened her tone and her kindness was too much. I heaved out a huge sob. ‘Charlotte, talk to me.’
‘James,’ was all I could say past the lump in my throat. ‘And Samantha.’
Megan gasped. ‘What? What about James and Samantha?’
I drew a deep breath to avoid having another panic attack. ‘I saw them. In his office – she was naked. So yes, I know how you feel, and yes, I know it was wrong of me to set up the whole hotel thing.’
‘Oh my God, Charlotte, I’m so sorry. I’m coming over.’
‘No! He’s still here, downstairs, awaiting a conversation, so I’ve barricaded myself in the bedroom until I’ve decided what to do. I just can’t face him yet.’
‘Well just leave, sneak out if you have to?’ she said. ‘You can’t sit there on your own all upset. You need a friend,’ she sighed. A friend. I did need a friend. I’d always needed a friend.
‘And we need to tell Sam,’ she added. That wasn’t going to be easy and I couldn’t let her do it alone.
‘Well, I suppose I could, but it would be a bit ridiculous to sneak out, don’t you think?’
‘No more ridiculous than stalking Samantha, or setting up a fake charity raffle, or locking yourse—’
‘Okay, okay, I get the picture. I’m on my way.’
Spurred on by my new focus, I slipped on an old black, Juicy velour tracksuit that had somehow escaped the charity bags and auctions over the years and tied my hair back before walking over to the window. It was an easy climb – in fact, it was our planned fire-escape route for that very reason. The window opened wide enough to climb through legs first, which was a bonus, and a small drop from the outer windowsill would put me onto the heavy stone border of the glass orangery roof. It was about a foot wide and didn’t require any particular balancing finesse. From there, I’d be able to hop down onto the wooden patio table and voila – I’d be free, leaving James to stew.
Before slipping out, I tugged at the waistband of my jogging bottoms, which had become uncomfortably snug. I’d noticed that a few things had recently but I hadn’t been pestering Megan for sessions since the whole Mike thing and I’d probably paid less attention to my diet. I put my legs through first and sat on my bottom for a moment to survey the scene. Easy. Hopping down onto the ledge, I pushed the window closed behind me and inched my way around.
Everything was going swimmingly until James walked into the orangery. The giant shadow I was casting through the glass roof was bound to make him look up. A huge thud in my chest almost knocked me off balance. I had no option but to throw myself down onto the stone ledge and hope he’d get what he needed and go without looking up. But he sat down. Of course he did.
From the height I was at, I could see over the wall into next door’s garden and to the beautiful greenery of the Cheshire countryside beyond. Fortunately, nobody was in the garden. They did, however, have a lovely outdoor sofa with big squishy cushions that I admired. Before a thought hit me and a spear of pain shot through my stomach. Would this house even be mine if I split up with James or would I have to move out? What would happen? Oh God. It started again: the crying.
Lying flat on my stomach on the cold, stone ledge, I sobbed big hideous tears. The river of despair merged with a small brook of snot, which formed a reservoir on my top lip. Clutching the lip of the stone tightly with my left hand, I brought my right sleeve up to wipe my face.
‘Mrs Emsworth, is that you?’ a warbly voice trilled from the direction of the neighbour’s lovely outdoor sofa. Oh bugger.
I turned my head. ‘Mrs Hamilton.’ I gave a small wave and hoped my puffy eyes weren’t visible across the distance.
‘Whatever are you doing up there? Do you need some help?’ She approached the bordering wall, hovering about a metre back to maintain her vantage point of her oddball neighbour clutching the roof.
‘Just a cat. I think it’s jumped down now,’ I shouted. ‘By the way, your tulips are looking beautiful this year.’
She smiled and gave a ‘say no more’ wave before trotting back towards her house. I slumped, relieved, on the ledge.
‘Charlotte?’ There was a thunder of doom in my stomach; this time, it was an all too familiar male voice that spoke. I wriggled to the corner of the roof and peered down at my landing pad – the wooden patio table. James stood next to it, arms folded.
‘Care to explain what the hell you’re doing?’
Seeing the familiarity of his face contrasting the unfamiliarity of his actions brought on a stabbing sensation in my chest. ‘Er, a cat . . .’ My voice wavered, and it wasn’t anywhere near as convincing as when I’d said it to Mrs Hamilton.
‘You’re sneaking off aren’t you?’
‘No,’ I said defensively.
‘What has gotten into you? Come down and let’s talk about what happened earlier. I know I have a lot of explaining to do, and I’m prepared to do it honestly. Maturely.’
Well, that’s very big of him. How big and mature of him to have an honest reason for being a philanderer. The condescending arse.
‘You haven’t any explaining to do because I don’t want to hear an excuse. I simply wish to get down from the orangery roof and go to see my friend.’
‘You’re behaving like a child.’
I clenched my teeth and glared at him in an attempt not to cry.
‘Fine, if it’s time you need, take some time!’ He stormed back inside the house, leaving me to finish wriggling around the ledge, swing my legs over the edge, and hop down onto the table. It was as easy as it looked after all. As I turned to go to the driveway, there he stood. Again.
‘Here.’ He tossed my car keys at me and walked back inside. That part I was relieved about; in my haste, I’d not thought any further than the wooden patio table.
When I pulled up outside Megan’s house, my hands were still trembling and my face felt moist and puffy. Adrenaline or nerves or something else was still surging through my veins so I sat outside for a moment before knocking on her door.
‘Charlotte, look at you! Come inside.’ This last bit was definitely a command, and I obliged. ‘Take a seat in the lounge and I’ll make some tea.’
I sunk into her cushioned sofa and closed my eyes as she went into the kitchen. My lids felt heavy. The emotion had drained me. After a few minutes, I took a moment to look around Megan’s modest living room, wondering how our lives could have changed so much in such a short space of time. There was the standard flat-screen TV mounted above the hole-in-the-wall fireplace and an oak coffee table. The walls were covered in a light, shimmery grey paper, which matched the grey carpet and charcoal sofa. It was exactly the same as it had been when Mike lived there, and I wondered how she coped, living a life that was almost exactly the same aside from the missing man-shaped chunk.
I couldn’t imagine it – living in my gorgeous house without James there to share it with. Or would I be the one to leave? The thought of people finding out we’d split up struck me. Frances’s haughty face, Lauren’s smug grin – I could just picture them, and it was unbearable. The sympathy from the ladies at the charity events – it made me want to scream. How dare James do that to me?
But then, perhaps nobody needed to leave at all. Plenty of couples went through little blips like affairs, didn’t they? Perhaps I was even to blame a little bit. I’d been so preoccupied with Megan and Sam and my charity work that perhaps James just felt neglected. Maybe I should have just sat down and talked to him like an adult.
‘Here you go.’ Megan interrupted my thoughts with a steaming mug of tea, which I accepted gratefully. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘Confused,’ I answered honestly, and Megan gave a sympathetic smile.
‘You’ll feel all sorts of things but whatever you do, don’t blame yourself!’
I appreciated her clichéd advice, but she didn’t understand that I might have actually been to blame. The whole thing was complicated. They were under a lot of pressure, working closely together and sometimes in those situations, people don’t make rational decisions.
‘What have you done to your arm?’ she asked, taking me by surprise.
I looked down at a deep bloody scratch near my elbow. ‘Oh, I must have done that when I climbed out of the bedroom window,’ I said, shrugging it off.
Her eyes bulged. ‘You escaped out of the bedroom window?’
‘It was your idea!’
‘I said sneak out! I thought you’d tiptoe downstairs and slip through the front door. Not climb down the drainpipe like a naughty teenager.’
‘In hindsight that would have been easier. However, I didn’t climb down a drainpipe – I crawled around the orangery roof and hopped down onto the patio table.’
‘Oh how very middle class,’ she quipped.
‘I had to duck to avoid James seeing me – it could’ve happened then.’ I rubbed absently at it.
‘And did it work?’
‘No. He was less than impressed when he saw me clinging to the roof like a burglar, and who could blame him?’
Megan put a hand on my arm. ‘Listen, you don’t have anything to worry about, especially not him. He’s the only person who should be embarrassed.’
I appreciated what she was saying but somehow, James was still managing to come out of it all with much more dignity than I. Why was I the one left feeling embarrassed?
My tea was still hot enough to scorch the back of my throat when I sipped it. It almost felt good to burn away the lump that had been sitting there since I’d spotted James and Samantha together. ‘I need to talk to him, really, don’t I?’ I said, defeated. ‘Oh God, then there’s Sam to worry about!’
‘Do you think Samantha will have confessed to him?’
‘I don’t know. Obviously, she’s aware I know Sam, so if she’s half a brain cell then she should come clean.’
Just then, Megan’s phone shrilled. ‘It’s Sam,’ she whispered, clutching the phone to her chest like he could hear her. I nodded towards it, indicating she should go ahead and answer. ‘Hello?’ she answered warily, her eyes fixed on mine. ‘Yes, of course – I’ll see you soon.’ She hung up. ‘He just asked if he could come over now – I think he knows.’
I wasn’t sure if hearing Sam’s tale of woe would take my mind off my own misery or make things worse since his misery was also my misery but I had to stay to support him, and Megan. ‘Have you got anything stronger than tea?’ I asked.
Twenty minutes later, there was a knock at the door. Megan went to answer it and I heard quiet, muffled voices before she led Sam into the lounge and told him to sit down. He got the same treatment I’d been given just an hour earlier. He did as she asked, and it was a moment before he raised his head to look at me. His eyes were puffy and red-rimmed. The look on his face was so ghostly that he was almost unrecognisable. I hoped I didn’t look that bad – though I might have in the car.
I took a deep breath. ‘I take it Samantha has filled you in?’ I tried to keep my voice even but I was unsure why. I knew I was allowed to be angry or sad or bitter; I just didn’t want to be. Sam rubbed his chin with his hands, clenching his jaw shut before finding the strength to nod.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I know you saw it coming but it doesn’t make finding out any easier I imagine.’
‘With James too. Of all people.’ He shook his head. After a moment had passed, he said quietly, ‘It must be hard on you. You didn’t see it coming.’ I was surprised, as I couldn’t imagine thinking of others was coming easily to him.
‘It was certainly a shock.’
Megan burst back in with more tea and a packet of dark chocolate digestives. ‘Well, we’re a right trio of misery. Les Misérables! I almost miss Kate. Here, drink some tea.’ Megan was obviously offering the Sam the same ‘feel better’ package I’d had. He sipped the tea and I noticed he too choked back the first sip.
‘We’ll get through this,’ Megan said, patting him on the leg before looking towards me. ‘We all will. What did Samantha have to say for herself?’
Sam took another sip of tea before replying, presumably trying to clear that pesky lump again. ‘She told me to sit down because she had something to tell me. I knew what was coming.’ He paused to look down into his cup. ‘She went on to say she and James were working together on a case that was quite intense and the hours were long so they’d often grab lunch together and sometimes a drink after to wind down and . . .’ His voice started to tremble.
‘It’s okay, I think we get the idea,’ I said to excuse him.
One thing I hadn’t considered was the length of time the affair had been going on for. Because I hadn’t suspected anything, I’d assumed it was a new thing. I gulped. ‘Did she say how long? I haven’t actually spoken to James yet. I sort of stormed off—’
‘Sort of?’ Megan interrupted.
Sam looked confused but carried on anyway. ‘A couple of months.’
My stomach lurched. A couple of months? My mind raced back over the past few months – to the kisses, the cuddles and oh my God. The underwear. All that time he’d been carrying on with her. I felt sick again.
‘Are you okay, Charlotte?’ Megan asked. ‘You’re as white as a sheet.’
‘I’ll be fine, but I think I need to go. I should probably go.’ I fumbled for my keys. ‘Thanks for listening, you two. We’ll get through this,’ I said without conviction before walking out into the cool night air.