A Wild Affair (27 page)

I turned to leave, but she stopped me, her arm reaching out toward me. “He'll be home soon. Why don't you stay? Just a cup of tea? We never did catch up, did we?”

“No,” I said, moving away. “No, we didn't. But now's not the time.”

“No,” she said, looking downcast. “No, of course.”

I looked at her for a moment. “Look, things seem to be working out for you. You've got Chester, you're settling down. I just can't … I can't be a part of it. That's all.”

“I'm sorry, Jessica,” she said, reaching out again, her hand hanging uncomfortably in midair, looking for somewhere to land. She laughed sadly. “I seem to say that to you rather a lot, don't I. But I am sorry, Jessica. I didn't want to choose between you and Chester but …”

“But you did,” I said flatly. “And to be honest, you probably made the right choice.”

“I have been trying to make him see sense,” she said quietly. “You're my daughter. We should be spending time together, planning our weddings together. I have told him that …”

I stared at her in disbelief. “Planning our weddings? You just don't get it, do you?”

“Get what, darling?”

I moved away. I could barely bring myself to say the words. “There is no wedding.”

“No wedding? Whatever do you mean?” Her voice was faltering slightly, and I was going to leave, just walk away, but then I realized I couldn't. This might be my last chance—my only chance—to tell her the truth. So I moved slightly closer to her so I wouldn't have to raise my voice, because if I had to raise my voice it would go shrill and wobbly and I wasn't going to have that. Not now.

“There is no wedding,” I said, my voice low and bitter. “Max and I aren't getting married because he's broken, because he
thinks he's got nothing to offer me. Not that I want anything, but it matters to him that he's successful and right now he feels like a complete failure. Anthony came back and told him he'd ruined the company which, you can imagine, went down fabulously. And in the meantime, Hugh Barter has poached most of our staff, just to make sure that Milton doesn't have any hope of dusting itself off and starting again. So thanks for all your support—I mean it's been really helpful having you around. But I'm sure you'll understand if I say no to coming in. I've got a wedding to cancel. Again. Third time, actually. What's the line? One time is unfortunate, twice looks like carelessness … what's three times? Stupidity? Desperation? Insanity? Probably all of them.”

“He doesn't want to marry you anymore? Well, silly old him. He's the one who's losing out, Jessica.”

I laughed then, a bitter laugh that came out from the bottom of my stomach. “What, and someone else will turn up soon enough? Mum, I'm not like you. There is no one else. There has never been anyone else and never will be. I can't drift from man to man—I found Max, and he's the one. And he isn't losing out. I am. I will lose out forever.”

I ran my hand through my hair; I could feel my eyes flashing, my knees locking beneath me.

“I was just trying to cheer you up, darling. I do understand. I know you love Max very much.”

“No, you don't understand,” I said. “Because you don't know what love is. I don't think you've ever loved anyone in your whole life. You certainly don't love me. And who knows if you really love Chester. Nice rich man who can look after you. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if you tracked me down not because I'm getting married but because you heard about the inheritance. Thought you'd sting me for a bit of cash, huh? Well, you've got it now. So unless you want more, unless you were hoping for another fat check, you can just get the hell out of my life, because
ever since you came back into it things have gone from bad to worse.”

I turned around and started to walk away.

“Wait,” she called after me. “Wait, Jess, it isn't like that.”

But I wasn't listening; I was too busy wiping away the tears that were rolling down my face. It was over. It was all over. Before the day was out, Max would know the truth and the happiness I'd carved out for myself over the past few months, the happiness I'd never expected or even dared hope for, would be gone forever.

My phone rang and I was going to let it ring, but then I realized that today was the day for facing up to things, and to people, and that leaving it unanswered would be a bad way to go. So I grabbed it out of my bag, hoping Max's name would flash up. But it was an unknown number. Chester maybe? Warily, I opened it and brought it to my ear.

“Jessica? Jessica dear?” It was a woman's voice, one I recognized but couldn't place.

“Yes, speaking,”

“Dear, it's Vanessa. From the Wedding Dress Shop. I was expecting you here half an hour ago for your final fitting.”

I didn't say anything for a few seconds.

“Dear? You are coming, aren't you?”

I opened my mouth to speak, but still no words came.

“Only the alterations are finished. I really think you need to try it on one last time before the big day.”

“The big day?” I heard myself say.

“That's right, dear. There is going to be a big day, isn't there?”

I took a deep breath. “Um …”

“Oh dear. Oh, you don't mean to tell me that the wedding is …”

“Off,” I said, taking a handkerchief out of my pocket and blowing my nose loudly.

I couldn't believe I wasn't going to wear the dress after all.
Every time I had put it on I felt like someone else, someone better, a real-life princess in a real-life fairy tale. Except the fairy tale was over now; I'd succumbed to the dark side, had lost my prince charming for good.

“So the wedding isn't … I mean, you don't think you might …” Her hesitations were full of hope, and for a moment I wanted to let her think that things might turn out all right after all, but I knew they wouldn't.

“I don't think so, not this time,” I managed to say. “I'll pay for all the alterations, of course.”

“Alterations? Oh, forget about them. I just really thought, this time, that you … I thought you'd found happiness.”

“I had,” I said miserably. “And I threw it away. With the help of a bastard called Hugh Barter.”

Vanessa sighed. “You can't blame yourself entirely,” she said. “After all, it usually takes two to tango.”

“Not in this case.”

“Ah.”

I took a deep breath. “Thanks, Vanessa. For everything. And I'm sorry things didn't turn out … you know, how they're supposed to.”

“You're welcome, Jessica. It's been a pleasure. A strange experience, but a pleasure all the same. And whenever you need it, your dress will be waiting for you. After all, you never know, do you?”

I smiled sadly. “I think I do know, but thanks all the same.”

I WENT STRAIGHT HOME. And it was only as I climbed the stairs to the apartment that I realized that soon it wouldn't be my home anymore. I'd have to get my own place. I could hardly move into Grace's house, all alone in the country Maybe I'd have to buy somewhere on my own. I had enough money after all. I frowned uncomfortably—that sounded far too final. No, I'd move back in with Helen, spending my Saturday nights trying to avoid having to go to some loud, boring party. Everything would be just like it was before Max. Except it would be different, worse, more empty because I'd know what I'd lost, would know what I was missing.

Bracing myself, I walked slowly, tentatively, toward the apartment's front door, took out my key, and opened it. The lights were off; Max wasn't home. I would wait for him, I decided, wait until he got back. And then, in as few words as possible, with no hysterics, no tears or emotional blackmail, I'd tell him what I'd done. Then I would pack up my things and go.

No, bad idea. I'd pack up my things now, before he got home—that way I wouldn't have to stay any longer than was absolutely necessary.

Except I wanted to stay. Having to pack would give me an excuse to stay longer. And anyway, if Max saw my stuff all packed up he'd think I
wanted
to go; the whole conversation would go
very differently, because he'd know that I'd packed my stuff up to leave him.

Fine, I'd pack afterward. And if it was awkward, if it was horrible, I'd leave my stuff, come back another time. Maybe in the meantime I'd just grab some of the essentials, have them ready in a carrier bag so I could make a swift exit. Toothbrush, a few pairs of underwear, that sort of thing.

Grateful I had something to do, I wandered into the bedroom. But instead of opening my underwear drawer, I found myself lying down on the bed instead, found myself pulling Max's pillow to me and inhaling deeply and wondering whether I could maybe not tell him after all, whether I could maybe instead convince him to leave the country with me, move somewhere like Mexico, where we could live off Grace's inheritance, just eking out a simple existence, living on the beach, never having to worry about Hugh, or Chester, or Anthony ever again …

“Jess? Jess, are you awake?” I woke with a start to find Max leaning over me. “Jess darling, you've been asleep for hours, but Chester's here and he wants to see you.”

I sat bolt upright. “Chester's … here?”

Max nodded. “Don't worry, you take your time,” he said tenderly. “And I'm sorry about earlier. How awkward it was with Anthony. I'm going to resign in the morning. Clean break.”

“You can't resign!” I said, jumping off the bed and swaying slightly—I felt slightly dizzy, felt heavy, felt fuzzy-headed. I looked at my watch—it was early evening. “What time did you get back here?”

“About four o'clock. I found you here asleep. You looked so peaceful.”

“I did?” I asked doubtfully. I didn't feel peaceful. Chester was here; he must have read my letter. Presumably he hadn't told Max
what it said, because if he had, Max wouldn't be looking at me all doe-eyed. Which meant that I had a few minutes before everything exploded. But a few minutes wasn't enough to explain; a few minutes wasn't enough time for anything. “Max, listen,” I asked, looking at him intently. “Chester didn't say anything, did he? About why he's here?”

Max shook his head.

“Okay. So will you give me a hug? Please? Before I … Just one last hug?”

He looked at me strangely. “One last hug? No, I won't. I'll give you
a
hug though, if you want one.” He pulled me close and I could feel him breathing into my neck.

“Thanks,” I whispered. Then I pulled away, stood up, and straightened my hair. “Okay, I'm ready,” I said. “I love you, Max.”

“I love you, too,” he said, standing up. “I know things are difficult now, but I do love you. Truly.”

“You do now,” I said quietly, then forced a smile onto my face. “So, Chester,” I said. “Let's go find Chester.”

Chester was in the kitchen, grim-faced, nursing a glass of whiskey that Max had evidently, and sensibly in my opinion, given him.

“Chester,” I said, my voice wobbling slightly. “It's good to see you.” I took a deep breath, unsure whether to immediately launch into an apology or whether to wait and follow his lead.

“Yeah,” Chester said, putting his glass down. “Yeah.”

“Shall we … go to the sitting room?” Max suggested, holding out his arm in the room's direction. I nodded and we followed his lead. My legs felt unsteady beneath me; I couldn't get to a chair fast enough.

“So,” Chester said when we were all seated. “I guess there are some things we need to talk about, Jess.”

I nodded, my heart pounding loudly in my chest. “Yes,” I said. “Yes, I guess there are. But before we do, I need you to know that
I didn't mean any of this to happen. I was so excited to be working on your account; you know that. It was a stupid thing, a thoughtless, stupid, drunken moment and I never thought … Well, that was it, wasn't it? I didn't think at all, did I? I was thought
less
, in fact. And, you know, stupid.”

Chester was looking at me strangely. “Yeah, well, I don't know about that. But I guess why I'm here is that we need to find a way forward. Don't we?”

“Absolutely.” I nodded. “And I think the best thing would be if I resign.”

“Resign? Jess, what are you talking about?” Max interjected, staring at me in disbelief. “You can't resign. You can't.”

“You were talking about resigning,” I said pointedly. “I'm just saying that I will instead. Then everything will be back to normal.”

Chester was frowning. “It will? I don't see how your resigning will really change anything.”

“Oh, but it will,” I said immediately. “I'll be out of the picture. Forgotten. You can go back to Milton Advertising. You have to, Chester, you really do.”

“Go back?” Chester shook his head. “Look, Jess, I don't know what kind of stunt you're pulling here, but I'm not changing my decision on taking the account away from Milton Advertising just on account of a few celebrities. That's not the way we do business at Jarvis Private Banking. We value integrity there. We believe in trust.”

The doorbell rang and Max left the room to answer it.

“But that's just it,” I said levelly turning to Chester, willing him to agree with me. “With me gone, you can trust Milton Advertising again.”

“How?” Chester demanded. “How, when we were so let down? How can I trust Max ever again? And why should I?”