Bedtime Reads Page 7

  ‘What do you mean, Roger?’

  ‘Maybe Billy’s not allowed near us.’

  Pete pats my shoulder. ‘Do you want to go up to your room and find her?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘You can’t sit here forever.’

  ‘I guess not but I thought Claire would have come to find me by now. I thought she’d have calmed herself down and come to explain things. Maybe…maybe…’

  ‘Maybe what?’

  ‘Maybe even apologised… Perhaps she’s not who I thought she was.’

  ‘I’m sure she is. It will all be fine. Things have a funny way of working out. You’ll see.’ Pete smiles but his bedside manner doesn’t work on me. Not this time.

  ‘Do you think he was her ex?’ I call out to the barman. ‘Give me a whiskey chaser.’

  ‘Is that a good idea?’ Pete frowns.

  ‘It’s the only one I’ve got.’ I swivel around on my seat and lean my back against the bar. In the past hour the seats and the wedding arch have been removed from the beach. Even the priest has been swallowed up. There’s no sign of our wedding. No sign that it was a special day. Even the other hotel guests have lost interest in me and have drifted off to one of the five restaurants on the complex.

  ‘Bloody hell, if it is her ex, just think… of all the places to bump into them,’ I groan. ‘Do you think he knew she was here and we were getting married?’

  ‘Stalking her?’ Pete shakes his head. ‘I think it’s a strange coincidence.’

  ‘Do you think she still loves him?’

  ‘Don’t be crazy. She loves you, Roger that’s why she married you.’

  ‘Then where is she?’

  ‘Do you want to go up to the room?’

  ‘I suppose I’ll have to.’ I slide off the stool and Pete walks with me through the tropical gardens, past the Italian themed restaurant where the smell of garlic bread fills my nostrils. ‘What about the table for dinner?’ I ask.

  ‘I’ll sort it. You go and speak to Claire. I’ll look after the rest of the guests.’

  He waits with me until the lift arrives.

  ‘Thanks mate,’ I whisper and he pulls me into a bear hug. He slaps my back and pushes me away and into the lift.

  ‘Just remember how much you love her,’ he says as the lift door closes. When it opens again I walk sluggishly along the corridor and hesitate outside the door with my key in my hand.

  I knock. I wait.

  Sheena opens the door. Her almond eyes regard me without emotion and instant loathing springs into my mind but I keep my expression neutral. There’s only so much I can take - especially on such an important day.

  ‘Is Claire here?’

  ‘Yes.’ She doesn’t open the door so I step inside and push past her.

  ‘Claire?’ I call out.

  She’s laying across our king-sized bed and when she sees me she attempts to sit up. Screwed up tissues are tossed on the floor and across the duvet. Her shoes that we bought the same day as my white suit are strewn under the bed. We laughed that day only a few months ago, excited at our wedding plans, and now it’s all a fiasco.

  ‘I want to be alone with my wife,’ I say over my shoulder to Sheena who stands watching us.

  ‘Will you be okay?’ She asks my wife and Claire nods.

  Sheena picks up her handbag and on her way out she shouts. ‘Call me if you need me.’

  I wait but Claire doesn’t speak. I feel anger rising inside me and to stop it from welling up and exploding, I sit down in the chair by the window. I grip my fingers into fists blocking out the memory of our love-making with her on my lap just a few days ago on this seat.

  ‘I think I deserve an explanation, don’t you?’

  Her eyes are swollen and bloodshot. Her nose is red and bulbous and she looks so forlorn I want to reach out and hold her. But I can’t. I can’t move. I don’t trust myself.

  She reaches for another tissue.

  ‘Why are you crying, Claire?’

  ‘Because, because….’

  ‘Are you pleased you married me?’

  She frowns and looks at me from under her fringe. The beads on her long hair clinking together as she swings her head. ‘Of course.’

  ‘It doesn’t appear that way.’

  ‘I’m upset-’

  ‘So am I.’

  ‘It was a shock-’

  ‘Who is he?’

  ‘I knew him a while ago…before-’

  ‘You went out together?’

  ‘We shared a house.’

  ‘You lived with him?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And you didn’t tell me?’

  ‘It was in the past.’

  ‘But you could still have told me. What’s his name.’

  ‘James.’

  ‘Is he a doctor?’

  ‘Does it matter?’

  ‘I suppose not. How did he know we were getting married?’

  She shrugs. ‘I don’t know. It must be a coincidence.’

  ‘That only happens in bad films. This resort is massive. It has five restaurants, twelve tennis courts and a gym so why did he happen to end up at our wedding, unless he knew about it?’

  ‘I’ve no idea.’

  ‘Are you telling me the truth?’

  Her teary eyes stare back at me. ‘Of course I am.’

  ‘Okay, so assuming it’s a coincidence, you’d better tell me who he is.’

  She reaches for another tissue, swings her legs around on the bed and props up her head with the pillows against the headboard. ‘His name is James. We went out for a few years.’

  ‘When was it over?’

  ‘Last year.’

  ‘Before we started dating?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So, why did you never mention him?’

  ‘He wasn’t important.’

  ‘Well, he clearly was today. For Chrissake, Billy punched him. Why?’ I stand up and pace to the bathroom door before opening the door to the minibar. I select a whiskey, unscrew the cap and drink from the miniature bottle, concentrating on my burning throat.

  ‘He hurt me.’ Her voice is low and husky.

  ‘How?’ I sit beside on the bed but we don’t touch.

  ‘We were going to get married but then he left.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘You must.’

  ‘No, I really don’t. I just came home one day from my shift and there was a note and his clothes were gone.’ She dabs her eyes.

  ‘What did it say?’

  ‘I don’t remember, something like: I’m not for you. You’ll be better off without me. I won’t be in touch ever again…’

  ‘But he never said why?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘So who was the girl with him?’

  Claire shrugs. ‘I’ve never seen her before. It must be his new girlfriend.’

  I study Claire’s face. Although I’d seen her around the hospital and in the canteen we’d never actually spoken until a year ago. When I asked her to marry she agreed immediately. I couldn’t believe a girl like her would fall for a bloke like me. So I decided to do it right away. We’d booked our holiday to include the wedding and the honeymoon on the same day we bought my suit and Claire’s shoes. We never dreamed some of our family and friends would join us and it was a small, perfect, wedding party. Only Claire’s dad hadn’t been able to come. He lived and worked in France but she hadn’t been bothered and I said I’d take her to Paris later in the year, so she could show him her wedding ring.

  I trace the red line in the Aztec design of the duvet trying not to touch her leg and run my hand up the inside of her thighs as I did last night.

  Was she telling me the truth?

  It hardly seems possible that we’d made love last night. We said we wouldn’t on the eve of our wedding. We’d even considered separate rooms but then we hadn’t been able to help ourselves. I found it hard at the best of times not to touch her and we’d giggled and p
retended we were on our stag and hen do, having one final fling. I’d felt so lucky to think she’d marry a guy like me; overweight and balding and I couldn’t quite believe it. Now, my bubble had burst and there was a gaping hole in my heart.

  ‘What do you want to do?’ she asks.

  ‘Me?’

  ‘Yes, do you still want me?’

  ‘Of course I do.’

  She leans forward and a fresh spill of tears well up in her eyes so I pull her into my arms, kissing her forehead. I kiss her wet cheeks and mumble her name. ‘I just need to know one thing,’ I whisper.

  ‘What?’ her voice is breathless.

  ‘Do you still love him?’

  ‘No, silly. Of course I don’t. I love you.’

  ‘Promise?’

  ‘Pinky promise.’ We link little fingers, as we have done since we met, and a ripple of warmth surges through my veins and I smile.

  ‘That’s all I need to know.’ I squeeze her tightly reassured by her kiss and the probing tip of her tongue and then I pull away. ‘Come on Mrs Westward. Let’s go and celebrate. Our guests are waiting downstairs.’

  ‘But what about-’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Them. What will they say?’

  ‘There’s nothing to worry about. It’s our business. Come on, I’m bloody starving.’

  All Encompassing

  ‘Come on, Sheena. One last one?’ Pete picks up the wine bottle and deliberately brushes against my breasts. ‘I didn’t have you down as a party pooper.’

  I know what doctors are like; all professional and businesslike during the day but as soon as they party they turn into leering and lecherous werewolves, and try to bed everything in sight.

  I’ve a headache and I want to go home. I want to be back in London. The tension in my shoulders and neck is making my head thump and I want to go to bed but true to form Pete is playing the dutiful part of the best man. Recently divorced, he’s now trying to flirt with me. It’s the old scenario of best man and bridesmaid but I’m not interested. There are enough dirty secrets around this table and I don’t need any more.

  I’ve picked at my food barely able to eat. Periodically I glance around the table. Barbara is holding court at the far end. She’s very attractive, well-groomed, well-dressed and well-spoken. She sits beside Roger’s gay aunt and her partner and they’re all pretty sloshed. As yet no-one is inclined to leave the dinner table and I wonder if it’s because they’re frightened the fragility of the gaiety will disappear.

  ‘What did you have me down for?’ I ask but I don’t look at Pete. My gaze is now on Claire and Roger, on the far side of the table, intermittently kissing and laughing. Whatever she told him in the bedroom he must have believed. He looks happy again and even she looks relieved.

  She won’t meet my eyes. Deliberately. She can’t. It’s our secret. We know that Roger is jealous of our friendship and we play it down when he’s around. I know she has to make him feel special, especially after today, after that awful scene.

  Barbara doesn’t look at me either. She’s another one who is jealous. She always said I was a bad influence on Claire but it’s not true. I’m her best mate. Closer than her mother, her brother Billy and even closer than her own husband. No one could guess the level of my faithfulness and my determination to keep Claire happy.

  ‘I know that surgeon broke your heart. And if it’s any consolation, he’s an idiot and I always thought you were pretty hot.’ Pete’s sweet alcoholic breath is near my face.

  ‘Even for a radiologist?’

  He laughs. ‘Yup but you’re too aloof. I don’t know. Uptight. You have to lighten up. Do you have sex?’

  ‘Most nights,’ I laugh.

  ‘On your own?’ He places his hand on my knee and laughs.

  ‘Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it,’ I smile.

  ‘I’d like to try it with you.’ He puts his other arm around the back of my chair.

  Barbara looks up. She’s watching us. So is Claire and so is Roger. But I don’t care. I’ve done it. I saved their marriage so I might as well have a little fun with Pete besides, half of the nurses in the hospital said he was good in bed.

  ‘I’m not your type,’ I whisper.

  ‘Yes you are,’ he laughs. His hand moves up my bare skin. ‘You’re very much my type and I love your legs.’

  ‘They’re short and dumpy.’

  ‘They would fit around me,’ he whispers. The hairs inside my ear quiver from his hot breath and a shiver of excitement ripples through my body.

  ‘Nah,’ I say and reach for my wine glass.

  ‘You’re a dark horse,’ he says. ‘I bet you know more than you’re letting on.’

  ‘About what?’

  He lowers his voice. ‘Who was that bloke in the bar this afternoon. Is Claire still in love with him.’

  I pull away and look aghast. ‘Don’t be crazy. Can’t you see she only has eyes for Roger.’

  His hand travels slowly up the inside of my leg. ‘I bet you know who he is. Want to tell me?’

  ‘It’s none of my business. It’s for them to sort out.’

  He laughs and kisses my cheek. I’m surprised his lips are so soft. ‘I think, you know a lot more than you’re letting on-’

  ‘It’s not for me to speak about their relationship.’

  He takes the lobe of my ear between his lips and I shudder and lean closer to him. Nerves tingle in my body and a wave of excitement sends goose pimples along my skin.

  When I open my eyes Barbara is staring at me. She’s taken off that ridiculous floppy hat she’s worn all day and now she’s flirting with Roger’s aunt but I know she’s watching me like a cat. The Hooded Claw I call her when Claire and I are alone.

  ‘The what?’ Pete says laughing. ‘Hooded Claw? Is that a sex toy.’

  ‘Could be,’ I murmur.

  His index finger is under my skirt sliding closer to my thong.

  ‘Are we going clubbing?’ Billy leans across the table. Although the plates, food and debris have been cleared it’s strewn with dirty, empty glasses. ‘Who’s coming to the disco?’ he sings.

  ‘Meeee!’ I jump to my feet.

  Pete pulls away and looking surprised. ‘I thought we were-’

  ‘Later. Come on, let’s go.’ I pull on his hand and follow Billy and Roger’s relatives from the restaurant but near the bar Pete pulls me back and I collapse into his arms, slightly worse for wear and I feel his erection against me.

  ‘Can you be sure he won’t be there?’

  ‘Who?’ But I know who he means and I link my arm through his. ‘Come on Pete, forget about him. He’s history.’

  We clatter down to the nightclub on the floor below the reception where the music is loud and it’s dark. I want to dance with Claire. We love this Rhianna song. She’s sticking close to Roger but she gives me a sly wink and then sticks out the tip of her tongue to me and I laugh.

  Roger’s lesbian aunt and her girlfriend are rocking it on the dance floor and I’m mesmerised watching them; whooping it up and clapping.

  ‘It’s an age thing,’ Roger shouts above the music, dragging Claire onto the floor. ‘They’ll be dying and hungover tomorrow.’

  Most of Roger’s relatives join the throng on the floor, jiving and dancing and Billy drifts away to another group of people I recognise that he met earlier in the week.

  Pete follows him. I know Billy doesn’t like Pete and suddenly there’s only Barbara left. She’s standing beside me waving to the barman who spots her immediately. She has that aura, that charm, that magnetism that angers me - and Claire. But I’m happy when she orders for us both. Leaning across the counter, the barman smiles, his eyes drawn to her brown breasts and deep cleavage. She hasn’t changed and she never will. Claire and I grew up together. I know all about her failed marriage and her boyfriends. But I can be trusted with a secret.

  She knows that.

  When the gin and tonics arrive she clinks my glass against hers.

  �
��It seems like I owe you,’ she says.’

  ‘It’s about Claire’s happiness - not ours.’

  ‘Does Roger know about James?’

  ‘He doesn’t have a clue.’

  ‘What did Claire tell him?’

  I shrug. ‘It’s all in the past. Isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Claire needs to move on.’

  ‘She does.’

  ‘She’s happy with Roger. She’s safe. No-one will want to sleep with him.’ I sip my drink. ‘Will they?’

  ‘I shouldn’t imagine so.’ Barbara is watching her daughter and new husband slow dancing.

  ‘She’ll be safe,’ I say.

  ‘She looks happy.’

  ‘That’s how I intend to keep her.’

  Barbara stares at me and I look away.

  Pete is standing with Billy’s crowd with a drink in one hand and his arm around a young girl’s waist.

  ‘No wonder his wife divorced him,’ Barbara says. ‘Slime-ball.’

  The ice cubes rattle in my glass as I drink. It’s probably the only thing Barbara and I will ever agree on and suddenly I feel tired and a little drunk. It’s been an emotional day with an unexpected twist.

  James.

  After the scene played out I couldn’t let it go. I’d caught up with James just outside their bedroom door. Blood was still streaming down his face, dripping though his fingers and splashing onto his white shirt. How could I ever have thought he was good looking? He looked defeated and wretched and I felt no compassion toward him but I did feel very sorry for the girl standing beside him. She looked like she actually cared. She wasn’t his normal type. This one was heavily built and she tried to stand between me and James, as if she wanted to protect him and I had laughed bitterly.

  ‘He can look after himself. He’s always managed that very nicely, haven’t you, James?’ He hadn’t replied so I’d continued baiting him. ‘Have you followed her? Stalking her to the altar?’

  ‘No!’ It wasn’t his denial. He didn’t look at me. It was his girlfriend speaking. ‘James didn’t know. I booked the holiday,’ she explained.

  ‘Really?’ I want to believe her but I’m familiar with his lies and his manipulation technique.