When Good Friends Go Bad (30 page)

'Then clear off.' Georgina jutted her chin, her voice more elevated than she'd intended, a red mist hazing her vision. 'And anyone else who doesn't like it can clear off too. I pay you all enough. I expect good service, yes, but . . .'

'It's not all about money,' he snapped. 'We've got designers on staff who would be superstars in any other company, and you act as if they're talentless lowlives. You're not only crippling yourself with your insecurities, you're crippling them too!'

'That is absolute rot!'

'It isn't. And you bloody well know it. You want me to clear off – well, fine. I'm going to the pub.'

'You can't. Not now. Aiden, get back here this instant!'

'Just watch me!' He stormed out.

What a beastly ending to a weekend that had started out so well, Georgina fretted, as she closed the door behind Brian and the others, thanking them for their trouble. It wasn't the first or even the hundredth row she'd had with Aiden. Last night on the phone they'd had a blazing fight that had left her reeling, sending her spinning out into the night virtually in tears. But recently their battles seemed to be getting worse, without the subsequent kiss and make-up that used to be a part of their passionate disagreements. She felt numb with fear that he didn't love her any more. Perhaps she clung to the control of the company because it was the only control she felt she had left?

But was it true what Aiden had said, that she treated others badly, crippling them? She lay on the drawing-room sofa, sick to the pit of her stomach.

Even Nutmeg and Jennifer had said she wasn't always nice to people. How had she become so unpleasant, without realising?

Ten minutes later she was still there worrying about recent events. It was no good, this wasn't helping. Pulling herself up, she went into the kitchen, returning with a knife and a delicious-looking chocolate cake the cook had baked for them. She cut a slice and then another, eating mindlessly while doodling on a pad with a stump of broken pencil. Her thoughts drifted back to Totnes, the maze of streets, the way the light reflected off the river, the motley inhabitants with their wild eclectic outfits, the colours of the farmers' market. She fingered the silver pendant Nutmeg had persuaded her to buy with its moss-green moldavite stone, a piece of meteorite, her American friend had said, a power stone. It was Nutmeg's kind of place all right – New Age-y with its crystal healers and strange practitioners – but there was also something splendidly medieval about it all, reminiscent of court jesters, jousting knights and dancing round maypoles.

A glimmer of an idea came to her and she started sketching in earnest, her pencil flying over the page.

Jen walked across the heath still shaking from her argument with Ollie. Only six forty-five. It had been dark for over two hours, but she couldn't bear to sit miserably alone in the house, waiting. She and Ollie rarely fought openly, moody silences being more the nature of their cold war. Ollie was easy-going, Jen hated conflict. It might not mean they got all their problems aired but after his puritan aunt comment, she decided there was a lot to be said for putting on blinkers and a gag.

She blundered on, stumbling in the dark with only the moon to guide her, Feo running in the shadows, barking at things she couldn't see, eerie black silhouettes blurring in front of her.

She'd stopped to sit on a rock on the highest part of the ridge, misery sapping her energy. When her mobile rang, she snatched it out of her pocket, nearly dropping it back when she saw it was Aiden. But almost of their own accord, it seemed, her finger pressed the accept button.

'Hello? Jen?'

She was silent, unable to speak, struggling to control the sobs that were rising up from somewhere deep within her.

'Jen?'

'Aiden?' she managed. An odd snorting sound came from her nostrils and Feo trotted back to investigate. He licked her hand.

'Where are you?'

'On the ridge,' she finally managed to say.

'I'm driving over.'

'No. Don't!'

The phone went dead.

Oh God. Fumbling with frozen fingers, she tried repeatedly to call him back, but his phone went straight to voicemail. What had she done? Why had she let him hear her cry? Now she'd stopped walking, she was really cold and more than a little spooked. All alone up here at the mercy of any maniac that might happen along, and she had to wait for Aiden because he was probably in his car already and it wouldn't be fair to leave him wandering for miles looking for her or risk him turning up at the house when Ollie dropped Chloe off.

Oh well, she tried to slow her pacing heart, perhaps he'd arrive with Georgina. She'd have two friends to comfort her instead of one, two shoulders to cry on. She crossed her middle finger over her index and then slowly uncrossed them.

If she were honest, that wasn't what she wanted at all.

In the light of the full moon Aiden's tall figure strode briskly along the ridge, like Heathcliff on a brooding moor. As he drew near, she rose from her rock to greet him and shush Feo's frenzied barking. 'You didn't need to . . .'

He stopped in front of her, his eyes flashing. 'I did. Georgie and I had a huge blow-up.'

'So did I. With Ollie. Oh, Aiden, everything's so awful.' She burst into tears again. Not delicate ladylike sniffles but the all-out waterworks. Her nose was running. She could hardly see out of her swollen eyes and her body juddered with long racking sobs. She pulled out an old tissue from her pocket and blew hard, aware that she must look a complete fright but unable to do anything about it.

'Jen, don't . . .' He stared at her helplessly, his face still pale and angry, then drew her into his arms, his mouth fastening on hers in a passionate kiss. Her tears evaporated under the force of his lips. She could hardly breathe, her nose still feeling clogged, her lips bruised from the pressure of his mouth, but none of it seemed to matter. A delicious warmth spread from her toes to her stomach, flooding the very centre of her being. Jealous, Feo jumped at them in turn, hitting them with his front paws and yapping.

Finally Aiden released her, and she felt the chill of the void where his torso had been pressed into hers. His eyes searched hers, his expression tortured.

'I've wanted to do that for so long,' he said huskily. 'It's been killing me seeing you again.'

'Me too,' she confessed. She lowered her eyes, hot with shame, afraid he'd see her naked desire radiating out of them to match the feeling she saw in his.

His hand brushed a curl of wet hair from her cheek, tracing the cheekbone with his thumb.

'I shouldn't have kissed you,' he whispered, already retreating. 'I just can't stand to see you unhappy. I never could.'

Gently he kissed her nose, her forehead, then wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against his chest.

'My poor baby,' he murmured into the top of her head.

She leaned. She couldn't help it. Fell into him, arms finding their rightful place inside his embrace, wanting to be held, wanting to be his poor baby. If she'd ever needed to be cuddled, it was today, and if she'd ever needed to be cuddled by anyone it was Aiden. It didn't matter that he was Georgina's. That they would never be together again. For these few minutes she wanted to feel his arms around her, pretend that the last twenty years had never been.

After what seemed an eternity, he backed them to the boulder and sat down on it with Jen on his lap, Feo trying to push his nose between them.

'Feeling better?' He gently massaged her shoulders.

'Much,' she sniffed. 'I'm sorry, I don't know what got into me.'

'I do,' he said. Gently he brushed away a last remaining tear with the knuckle of his index finger and followed it up with a light kiss. 'And I think you do too. It's like a horrible cosmic joke but at least let's not kid ourselves it's not happening.'

'We have to.' She rubbed her eyes with the heel of her palm. 'You're married.'

'Don't think I don't regret that every single day. I made a big mistake when I left you. Another when I married Georgie, convinced I'd lost you for good. She told me she never saw you. It never occurred to me I'd run into you again. I didn't even realise until I saw you at the Marlow Arms what a screw-up I'd made of my life. I wanted so badly to grab you that night, run off with you, turn back the clock. I haven't been able to think of anything since.'

'I couldn't forget you,' she whispered, wondering why his confession made her feel joyful when she ought to feel even more wicked. 'I tried for years.'

'I even – God, this sounds pathetic! – that night at the Marlow . . . I came to your room after everyone was in bed. I wanted so badly to talk to you. I was in hell. Ready to chuck it all in, ask Georgie for a divorce, throw myself on your mercy and beg you to forgive me. Even though I knew it was hopeless.'

'I heard you knock.' Her gut twisted, thinking of that night. 'I knew it was you. But I couldn't open the door. I'd just realised – at least I was almost a hundred per cent sure – that I was pregnant. I was carrying Ollie's child. And Georgina was carrying yours. You were married. What would have been the point?'

'What a bloody mess I've made of everything.' His hand continued to rub her shoulders, moving in to fondle her neck and travelling back down again. It was so soothing, hypnotic even. She felt like a stroked cat, as if she could close her eyes and fall asleep, purring.

'Do you still love me?' he asked softly.

She managed a feeble kind of smile, not answering, mesmerised by the rhythmic touch. His mouth was following his fingers now, travelling up her neck as he lifted her hair. She only turned her head a fraction but suddenly their lips met and he was kissing her and she was kissing him back, unable to stop him, not wanting to. The addiction was still there, overpowering, out of her control. He was here with her and it was amazing, a miracle, and for a brief space of time nothing else mattered, no one else existed and they were all alone at the top of the ridge, at the top of the world, lovers, soulmates and surely destined to be together. Home at last after years of being lost in the wastelands.

It was only with a monumental effort, like tearing off her own arm, she managed to break away. She wrenched herself from his knee and sat down on the cold ground, shoulders slumped, clawing at clumps of dead grass with numb fingers.

'I can't,' she said. 'This is wrong. Georgina . . .'

Aiden tilted her chin.

'Georgina'll be all right. If she's upset at losing me it'll be for the business aspect, not because she's in love with her husband.' He hesitated, clearly making up his mind whether to proceed. 'You have no idea how bad our home life is. Georgina's emotional issues are out of control. She's her own worst enemy and now her self-sabotage is affecting everyone around her.'

'What kind of emotional issues?' She finally dared to ask. A memory came to her of herself when Helen met her, painfully thin, unable to sleep, haunted by terrifying visions. If Helen hadn't befriended her, offered her a place in her flat . . . 'She's not having an affair, is she?'

'An affair?' Aiden looked startled and then his mouth twisted wryly. 'Yeah, as if she'd have the time or the inclination. She doesn't even like . . .' He rubbed his forehead irritably. 'No, it's not that. No such luck.'

Soberly he picked up Jen's hand, looking at her naked finger where the wedding ring had left a lighter band of flesh. 'She's bulimic. It hits her hardest when she's under stress but it's wreaking havoc with both our lives. I wanted to tell you before you went to Totnes but what could I say? Keep an eye on my wife for me?'

'Bulimia?' Jen thought of how rail-thin Georgie had become, the way she'd picked at her meals in Devon. Meg saying she'd heard her vomit. 'Is she having treatment?'

'She has a therapist. He helped her the first time. I've tried making her go back, but she denies it's happening.'

He dropped Jen's hand and stared out over the ridge, his face bleak. 'She has these absurd eating binges, sometimes empties the entire freezer in a single night, packs away enough to feed a family of four and then she throws it all up. You've noticed her teeth? All that vomiting ruins the enamel, that's why she has veneers. Her two obsessions – work and her weight – and they've both ruined any chance our relationship had. Even if she wanted children and could back off from work, her body probably couldn't handle pregnancy. And she won't even admit how sick she is. She tries to hide it even from me.'

He folded his arms, hugged them to his chest and shivered as Jen stared at him in horror. He looked grim and despairing, as lonely as any Ancient Mariner.

'I guess I can understand . . . a bit anyway,' she said slowly, 'because I went through something like it. Not bulimia but severe depression. Long time back and then later after Chloe was born. I was on pills. I couldn't talk to anyone about it, either. And it didn't matter how nice my friend Helen,' she swallowed, 'or Ollie was, either. I just had to get through it.'

'Yes, well, I thought I could help Georgina but I can't. Maybe no one can. If anything I might be making it worse, just by staying with her. Becoming a codependent by covering for her all the time as she plummets on her course to self-destruction. If I left she might really have to get her act together.'

The wild elation that had filled Jen's heart just twenty minutes ago had all leaked away. Feo had wandered off. The ground was damp where she sat, the cold seeping through her jeans. She moved her arm so it couldn't accidentally brush Aiden's knee.

'I had no idea.' Her voice was sombre. He went to touch her hand and she snatched it away. 'Starkey, we mustn't. It would be bad enough if she were well. I can't be responsible for giving her more grief.' She looked off, blinking. 'I'd better get home. Chloe will be back any minute. Feo! Come!'

'No,' he said forcefully, fists clenched. 'I used to think that, but it's all wrong. The way I see it, all three of us can live in misery or we can face the truth and everyone has a chance at real happiness. Georgie deserves better. And so do we.' He grabbed both of Jen's hands this time, holding them so she couldn't escape. 'I'm not asking you to run away this minute or even make any decision today. But my marriage is over. And I'm here for you, any time, any place. We're meant for each other. I know it and I think you know it.'

'I don't know what I know. Except,' Jen chewed her lip, bruised from his kisses, 'yes, I still love you.'

His face was close to hers, so close she could see his eyes shining.

'That's all that matters then.' He gathered her up again, lifting her feet at least six inches off the ground as he kissed her.

And she let him because she knew this was as far as it could ever go, even if his body did seem to draw hers to his like the most powerful magnet inside the earth's core. She would have to be a monstrous person to hurt Georgina even the teensiest bit more. It had to stop right here.

But for this minute, with Aiden touching and caressing her as if he too knew that they'd have to make do with these few moments for the rest of their lives, she threw herself into kissing him heart and soul.

When Georgina had finished it was almost midnight, the chocolate cake was half gone but she was exhilarated, her body fizzing with the knowledge that what she'd done was good, maybe even great. She'd do the final touches tomorrow; get it mocked up on the computer and courier it over to Heal's before lunch. In the meantime she was too high with sugar and artistic buzz to go to bed. The house was stifling suddenly. She stepped out the back door to look at the stars, so bright and intense in the frosty night air.

There was a light still on above the former stables, now the garage apartment where Max lived. She could see his TV flickering and as she looked, he crossed to the window of the living room and stared out. Someone else not in bed yet. Perhaps he was a night owl too?

She thought again about Rowan's mother calling her high and mighty, about Jennifer and Nutmeg saying she was a snob, about Aiden saying she didn't treat people well. Was that true of Max, too? He'd never shown resentment. He was such a nice soft-spoken man. Kind eyes. On an impulse she came back into the living room, picked up the plate with the rest of the chocolate cake and walked across the yard towards the garage. Someone else might as well enjoy this. Aiden didn't care for sweet things and if she left it lying around, chances were she'd eat the whole thing herself. She shuddered. She'd already eaten far too much. It lay like a lead weight in her stomach.

The apartment was reached by a wooden staircase up the back. She climbed up, plate in hand, and tapped on the door.