The Show (23 page)

‘Hello, ladies!’ A beaming Eddie Wellesley walked up behind them, wrapping one arm around Laura’s shoulders and the other around Penny’s. If anyone could refill one’s balloon, it was Eddie. ‘Red Red Wine’ was booming out over the sound system, and Eddie was swaying slightly to the beat, clearly a little the worse for wear himself. ‘I trust you’re both enjoying yourselves?’

‘How much have you had?’ Laura teased him. ‘And where’s Lady Wellesley? Not in the mood for a party?’

Eddie gave her a reproachful look. ‘Annabel’s under the weather.’

Angela Cranley, who’d drifted over to join them, caught this last remark. ‘Really? She seemed fine when I saw her at the Conservative Ladies Luncheon earlier. I hope it wasn’t something she ate. I told Max the coronation chicken tasted a bit dodgy.’

‘I think it’s a touch of flu,’ said Eddie.

‘Oh, please,’ Laura rolled her eyes. ‘She didn’t want to come because she loathes the show. If you can’t lie convincingly, Eddie, don’t lie at all. I thought that was the first rule of politics?’

Eddie laughed. ‘So cynical for one so young, Mrs Baxter. Well, you’re right, Annabel doesn’t have flu. She just finds these sorts of thing difficult.’

What sorts of thing?
thought Laura.
Parties? Or anything involving me?

It was obvious that Annabel didn’t like her. That she resented Laura’s friendship with Eddie, almost as much as she resented his involvement in the show in the first place.

Oh, well. Too bad,
thought Laura.
You can’t please everyone.

It was a warm autumn evening and Santiago had slipped out into the garden for a crafty cigarette under the apple tree. When Penny found him he was peering back in through the drawing-room window, half hidden behind a rhododendron bush.

‘What on earth are you doing?’ she asked. ‘You look as if you’re casing the joint.’

‘I’m watching. Look at that.’

Penny looked. Gabe and Macy were locked in conversation. Gabe’s head was bent low to hear what Macy was saying. He had one hand resting lightly on the small of her back and from time to time he was nodding intently in reply.

‘I don’t like the look of that,’ said Santiago.

‘They’re only talking,’ said Penny. Although she had to admit there
was
an intimacy to the body language. Her earlier conversation with Laura came flooding back to her.

Santiago stubbed out his cigarette. ‘I’m going in there.’

Penny looked at him aghast. ‘To say what? For heaven’s sake, darling, there’s no law against talking. They’re colleagues. Don’t stir up trouble. It’s none of our business.’

But Santiago was already striding back in through the French doors.

‘I think Laura wants you,’ he said to Gabe, physically inserting himself between Gabe and Macy. ‘Something about running low on tonic water.’

‘Really? We had plenty this morning. Where is she?’

‘Out in the garden last time I saw her,’ said Santiago.

Gabe scurried off. Looking irritated, Macy was about to follow suit when Santiago grabbed her by the arm.

‘James’s a good man, you know.’

Macy’s frown intensified. ‘I know. That’s why I’m with him.’

‘Yes, but
are
you with him? Really?’

‘What are you talking about?’ Macy snapped, trying to extricate herself from Santiago’s grip. ‘I don’t have time for riddles.’

‘I’ll spell it out then,’ Santiago whispered in her ear. ‘I think you’re in love with Gabriel Baxter.’

Macy laughed derisively.

‘It won’t come to anything, you know. Gabe might flirt, but he loves his wife.’

‘This is ridiculous,’ said Macy. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about. Let go of me.’

Santiago released her arm. ‘Fine. But what you’re doing is unfair to James. Not to mention poor Laura.’

‘I’m not
doing
anything,’ Macy said indignantly. ‘For your information, James and I are very happy together.
Very.
And as for “poor Laura”, I’d save your sympathy if I were you. Believe me, that woman can stick up for herself. If anyone’s suffering in that marriage, it’s Gabe, not her.’

‘You don’t know what you’re talking about,’ snapped Santiago.

‘Is everything all right?’ James came over, wrapping both arms around Macy’s waist. ‘You two aren’t arguing, are you? Santi can be a pig when he’s been drinking.’ He smiled.

‘We’re not arguing.’ Macy shot Santiago a frosty look. ‘Everything’s fine.’ Turning round she stood up on tiptoes, coiling herself about James’s neck and kissing him passionately on the mouth. ‘Let’s go home,’ she said huskily.

James lit up like a light bulb. ‘I’d love to. But are you sure? This is your wrap party, after all.’

‘Positive,’ purred Macy. ‘I’m tired of all these people. I just want you.’ She turned to Santiago. ‘If you’ll excuse us.’

James grinned over his shoulder at his friend as Macy pulled him away, like a cavewoman dragging home her kill.

‘There you go,’ said Penny, reappearing at Santiago’s side. ‘I saw that kiss. You have nothing to worry about.’

Santiago thought:
I’m not so sure.

Macy and James went back to James’s place, a rented gamekeeper’s cottage overlooking the river at Brockhurst. From the bedroom window you could see the gabled roof of Riverside Hall. The lights were still on upstairs.

‘Cruella’s still up,’ said Macy. Stripped down to her Elle Macpherson underwear she was kneeling on the window seat, gazing out across the valley. ‘Probably devising some elaborate torture for poor Eddie when he gets home.’

‘Annabel is a witch, isn’t she?’ agreed James. Walking up behind Macy he leaned down and nuzzled her neck. He could feel his dick start to harden instantly. How had he ever managed to land himself such a stunning, incredible girl? She looked insanely sexy in her white lace bra and knickers.

‘Why do you think he married her?’ asked Macy, sighing contentedly as James unhooked her bra and cupped both her breasts with his warm, rough hands.

‘She probably cast a spell on him,’ murmured James, who was rapidly losing interest in the Wellesley marriage. ‘Something involving frogs and eyes of newt.’

Macy giggled.

‘Or maybe it’s all an act and she’s red-hot in bed,’ James whispered, moving his hands down and slipping beneath the flimsy lace fabric of her underwear, expertly caressing her clitoris. ‘Maybe they’re fucking like stoats up there every night. Although at his age I doubt it.’

‘He’s not that old,’ said Macy defensively, as an unwanted memory of Eddie making love to her in Los Angeles flashed into her brain. She’d enjoyed it at the time, but now the thought of having ever been with Eddie felt obscene.

‘He’s not that young,’ James said reasonably.

Turning round, Macy wriggled out of her underwear completely and slid naked into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist like a rainforest native about to shimmy up a palm tree. ‘I’m kinda done talking.’

Grinning, James staggered backwards onto the bed with Macy still on top of him. His hard-on was so big now it was tricky to get his jeans off, like taking down a tent with the poles still up. But finally he too was naked. Gasping with pleasure he slid inside her, watching while she arched and bucked and moaned on top of him like the world’s hottest rodeo rider.

Macy closed her eyes and immediately saw Gabe Baxter’s face. She opened them again, panicked.

‘You OK, babe?’ asked James.

‘Mmm-hmmm,’ Macy nodded, forcing herself to focus on the present and the incredible sensations flooding through her body.

Bloody Santiago de la Cruz! Why did he have to put dumb ideas into her head? She was not in love with Gabe. Attracted, maybe, in an idle, offhand way. But everyone had people they were attracted to, besides their partner, didn’t they?

Scared he was going to come too soon, James suddenly pulled out of her and flipped her over onto her stomach. Relieved he could no longer see her face, Macy buried her head in the pillow. Propping himself up on his elbows so that only part of his weight was on her, James nudged her legs wider before pushing inside her once again, forcing himself to slow his thrusts into a calmer, more controlled rhythm. It was torturous and wonderful. Macy groaned. Waves of pleasure lapped all around her, never quite breaking on the shore.

‘I love you,’ James murmured in her ear.

‘I love you too.’ The words were out before she knew she’d said them. Macy felt her hips move faster and faster with a mind of their own, willing her body towards orgasm and release. But if her body was in heaven, her mind was in hell. Images of Eddie Wellesley and Gabe Baxter continued to jump out of her like ghouls on a ghost-train ride, tormenting her, making her doubt everything. And Santiago’s voice: ‘
I think you’re in love with Gabriel Baxter
’
playing like a stuck record, over and over, until she wanted to scream. Then suddenly, too quickly, James exploded inside her, clinging onto the headboard for support as his whole body shot forwards like a torpedo. Macy’s own climax came then, too, wave after wave, each one bigger and harder than the last. The faces and voices were finally gone.

‘Jesus.’ James collapsed on the bed beside her, gasping for breath. He was drenched in sweat, as if he’d just been swimming.

‘Yeah.’ Macy lay beside him, her own heart pounding. ‘Jesus.’

‘I meant it, you know,’ said James, once he’d finally got his breath back. ‘I do love you.’

Macy stared at the ceiling, trying not to cry. She didn’t know if she felt wildly happy or desperately sad. Only that the maelstrom of emotion inside her was too much to bear. And that she didn’t want to be alone in this world any more.

‘James?’ Her voice rang out in the still night air. ‘Will you marry me?’

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Eddie Wellesley lay in bed feeling profoundly happy. It was November, not yet a whole year since he’d walked out of Farndale, but it felt like a lifetime ago. So much had happened in that time – moving to the Swell Valley, meeting the Baxters and Macy, becoming a television producer, and now, launching his memoirs. Outside, a chill wind rattled against the windowpane. But the dreary weather could do nothing to dampen Eddie’s spirits this morning.

Annabel lay in his arms, warm and naked and
happy
, something Eddie had feared she might never be again. Last night, after Eddie’s appearance on a new Channel 4 chat show to promote his memoirs, he and Annabel had driven back to Riverside Hall and had had the best, most passionate sex they’d had in years. Decades, probably. Eddie hadn’t realized quite how much he’d missed it – missed her – till now. Nothing meant anything compared to this. To the two of them being together and happy and a team.

‘I adore you,’ he whispered in her ear.

Turning round, Annabel kissed him softly on the lips. ‘Good.’

Annabel was happy too. Despite what people thought, she’d always loved Eddie. His affairs had hurt her, but she’d stayed because, in the end, she’d never stopped loving him or feeling loved by him. And because he said he was sorry, and she believed him. She knew she could come across as cold and unfeeling. It was one of the reasons why so many strangers blamed
her
for Eddie’s infidelity.
She’s so cold, she’s such a snob, she drove him to it.

But Eddie had always seen past that. He’d seen the warmth in Annabel where no one else had – perhaps he’d even created it? – and that private understanding had made him feel special. In Eddie’s eyes, Annabel was something rare and wonderful, a secret treasure chest to which only he had the key. She loved him for that more than anything.

Even so, it had been a long road back to their old intimacy. When Eddie had got involved in
Valley Farm
, and started hanging out with all those television people, especially Laura Baxter, Annabel had been terrified of losing him all over again. In television, Annabel felt excluded. But politics? That was a world where they both belonged, for better or worse. A world where Annabel had an important role to play, as wife, hostess, team mate. With the memoirs finally finished and publication scheduled for next week, last night’s television appearance had been the first concrete step in Eddie’s political comeback. That alone had been a huge boost to Annabel’s spirits. The fact that it had been such a triumph made her positively giddy with hope, and renewed love for her husband.

‘What’s your greatest regret?’ the chat-show host had asked Eddie.

‘I don’t believe in regrets,’ Eddie said briskly. ‘I broke the law and I paid the price. But I’m not complaining. I learned a lot in prison, and I made some great friends.’

‘Still, if you could turn back the clock, surely there are things you would have done differently? That you wish you hadn’t done?’

Eddie had thought about it for a long time. Then, with disarming sincerity, he’d said: ‘I wish I hadn’t hurt my wife.’ Zooming in, the camera caught the tears in his eyes. ‘But that’s a private matter between the two of us.’

Watching in the green room, Annabel had fought back tears of her own. Eddie had said sorry countless times. But last night, for the first time, she had known he really meant it.

She met him in the corridor as soon as he walked off stage.

‘Did I do all right?’ he asked nervously.

‘You were wonderful.’

He pulled her to him, pushing her hair back tenderly behind one ear and locking his eyes onto hers. ‘
You’re
wonderful. It’s all going to be different this time round, you’ll see. I love you and I’m going to protect you. From everything.’

This transformative moment in Eddie and Annabel’s relationship had turned out to be transformative for Eddie’s career too. According to this morning’s viewing figures and reviews, the public had been deeply moved by his marital remorse. Eddie’s political agent, Kevin Unger, had called at crack of dawn, waking them both up.

‘You went down a storm,’ Kevin gushed. ‘Huge ratings for last night’s show. Over eighty per cent of viewers found you “sincere and credible”. Ninety per cent liked you! That’s unheard of for a politician.’

‘Especially a bent one,’ quipped Eddie.