Betrayal (5 page)

'What other women?'

'Obviously you've found a way round the problem! If you're quite sure, then give me until Saturday. Stephanie's got a lot to do here. The house is on the market and we keep getting the most ghastly people looking round. They're not really interested in buying, they're just fascinated by Simon's death. People can be utterly revolting at times. Anyway, she needs some help. Her sister's coming at the weekend, I ought to stay until then.'

She told Stephanie that evening. The older woman shrugged. 'Go where you like. He's probably as good as the next man. I'm afraid your prospects aren't too rosy around here.'

'I'm only going to live with him for a while.' ‘And after that?'

'Who knows? I'm going to take it a day at a time. Will you be all right?'

For the first time Stephanie's mask slipped. 'How should I know? Perhaps they want me dead too. You can't imagine what it's like sitting in this house, jumping every time the bell rings! Although they're not likely to ring before they enter, are they?' And she gave a strained laugh.

'Who could possibly want you dead? Simon obviously made a few enemies—he doesn't seem to have been the most successful of businessmen—but that's not your fault. Anyway, he killed himself because he was ill.'

'He was no more ill than I am.'

'You told me yourself he'd been having chest pains.'

'He had a hiatus hernia. No one kills themselves over a hiatus hernia!'

'That's what he told you, but the doctor said… '

'Any fool can tell he was got at. How come he didn't tell the police about Simon's illness straight away? Why keep it until things were getting really difficult for us all?'

'I suppose he felt that it was confidential information.' 'He was bribed.’

'But who'd bribe Dr Morris?'

'The same people who killed Simon, of course.' Lisa stared at her. 'The Superintendent said… '

'Him! I knew we were all right as soon as he arrived. There are certain crimes that have very long tentacles, and those tentacles often reach out to some surprising places.'

'Isn't anything what it seems?' exclaimed Lisa. 'Aren't there any normal, honest people in the world? I can't believe all this.'

'Go to your television star and enjoy yourself. If he hadn't come along those tentacles would be round your pretty neck as well. You've been lucky. Get out while you can.'

'But it was you and Simon who tried to involve me!'

Stephanie sighed. 'Yes, it was. I didn't care—after all, you weren't going to get hurt—but Simon cared. He wanted you to go off and live a normal life, even if it meant offending certain people. Then he did something stupid and you were his only way out. He did love you though, and if his death's set you free then wherever he is he'll feel it was worthwhile. So go now, while you still can.'

'I told Toby I'd stay until Saturday,' said Lisa hesitantly.

‘You’re no help here,' said Stephanie bitterly. 'All you do is remind me of things I'd rather forget. Go tonight for all I care.'

'Do you really mean that?' asked Lisa quietly. 'Yes.'

'Then I will. I'm sorry I was a disappointment to you,' she murmured hesitantly.

Stephanie looked up at her. 'Be happy. I know you haven't been happy with us. Be happy with Toby instead.'

For a brief moment Lisa wanted to hug the older woman, explain how hurt she'd been all those years ago, and how ever since she'd been shielding herself against another possibly even greater hurt; but Stephanie wrapped her arms round herself and sat looking at the floor.

She obviously didn't want any emotional scene, and the sad truth was that they were two people with nothing in common at all and so, at eight o'clock that night, Lisa drove out of Stephanie's life forever.

For a time she was happy. For several months she and Toby thoroughly enjoyed themselves. They went to parties, took long walks and told each other everything they were willing to reveal. They also learnt to know each other's bodies off by heart.

For Toby too it was a particularly good time. His show was doing well; he drank sparingly; and with Lisa waiting at home no longer felt the need for endless conquests among the girls and women who pursued him. His life had a stability he'd fully expected to resent and in fact enjoyed.

When Lisa got herself a job at a small, exclusive kindergarten helping out with the under-fours he was even more delighted. Knowing that when he was busy working so was she, the slight unease, not great enough to be called jealousy, that he had previously felt when on set disappeared.

He couldn't pinpoint the exact moment when it began to go wrong, but the increasing number of times that Bishop rang him with night work was an irritant, while the work itself preyed on his mind, eating away at his nerves. Even then it only showed in small, petulant out- breaks of temper that never seemed to ruffle Lisa.

No, if there was one moment when he knew it couldn't last it was on the Friday night at the end of May when he arrived back at the maisonette, worn out by countless retakes and sudden script changes, longing for a quick shower and bed and instead found Lisa dressed up in a black backless dress, the table set for an intimate dinner for two.

'What the hell's up?' he snapped. 'It isn't my birthday, is it?'

Realising that he was in a mood, Lisa didn't laugh. She'd already learnt that he didn't like being laughed at. 'Of course not. It's just that I've got something to tell you and I thought it would make a nice change if I cooked you a decent meal for once.'

'I fancy fish and chips,' he said churlishly, and slammed off to the bathroom.

When he emerged wearing his oldest pair of denims and a short-sleeved shirt with a hole in the back she realised that he wasn't going to go along with her plan. Sighing inwardly, she placed a stuffed pepper in front of him.

'What's this?'

'An hors d'oeuvre.'

'Why not just call it a starter, you stuck-up bitch?' he complained, reaching for the wine bottle lying in its wicker basket. 'I'll have a drink instead. How about you?'

'You know I don't drink red wine.'

'Bloody affectation. You can drink some tonight, can't you?'

Despite knowing that she'd end up with a migraine she decided she'd better placate him and held out her glass. 'Only a little, thanks.'

Filling it to the top, he smiled unpleasantly. 'Drink it all up!'

She wasn't quite sure how to handle his mood and felt uneasy. 'I will, later on,' she promised.

'Now!'

'Toby, I don't want it. I… '

Picking up the plate with the stuffed pepper still on it, he flung it across the room. 'Then I don't want your bloody pepper filled with dog meat!'

'Toby, please…'

'Toby, please!' he mimicked.

She went over to the stove and produced the Chinese-style steaks she'd prepared. He looked suspiciously at his. 'What the hell's all that stuff round the meat?'

'What on earth's the matter with you?' she snapped, losing her patience.

'I'm tired,' he said sullenly. 'I wanted a bit of peace and quiet, not all this fuss.'

'I'm very sorry but unfortunately I'm not psychic, and it so happens that I wanted to tell you something important tonight.'

'You're moving out? Hurrah!' 'I'm pregnant.'

'Oh, well, that's… You're what?'

'Pregnant. Toby, I know it isn't what we intended but… ' 'Who's the father?' he asked softly.

She blinked in surprise. 'Don't be silly!'

'And don't talk to me like one of your kindergarten brats! Now answer the question, who's the father?' As he spoke he drank his third glass of wine and stood up to fetch a second bottle.

'You, of course.'

'Why of course? You spread your legs quickly enough for me, why not for other men as well?'

'But I'm living with you!'

'I thought you were taking precautions?'

'It must have been that night when I'd forgotten to put the diaphragm in and you didn't want to wait.'

'I see, so it's my fault, is it?'

'It isn't anyone's fault!' she shouted. 'This isn't a crime we're talking about.'

'No, just a hideous mistake. Well, you can bloody well get rid of it.

I don't want any bawling babies messing up my life.' 'Get rid of it?'

'Sure, or get out. Suit yourself, so long as I don't ever have to visit you both. And there won't be any child support either. I shall deny paternity.'

'Haven't you had enough to drink?' said Lisa after watching him drain the second bottle of wine.

'Nothing like enough, and I see you haven't drunk anything at all.' 'I don't feel like drinking.'

'Nauseous already, are you? See what I mean. Babies are the biggest killjoys invented. I expect you'll go off sex as well.'

'I'm not nauseous but I don't like red wine.'

There was a brief, ominous moment of silence before he spoke again. 'Drink it or I'll pour it down your throat for you.'

Suddenly she was frightened, not only because he was drunk and the pregnancy announcement a disaster but also because of his sudden change of character. He was no longer the Toby she knew, and the fear showed in her eyes.

'I've managed to frighten you for once, haven't I?' he jeered. 'Miss High and Mighty doesn't know what to do. Drink it up, Lisa.'

She sat perfectly still, her hands in her lap, waiting tensely as he walked round the table and picked up her glass. 'Open your mouth and tip your head back,' he commanded softly.

Pressing her lips closely together she lowered her head, and for the first time ever, Toby hit her. He hit her hard with the flat of his hand and she automatically opened her mouth to cry out. At once he put the other hand into her mouth, forcing her jaws wider apart and pushing back on her head, oblivious of her attempts to bite him. Her neck felt as though it was going to crack and then as he poured the wine down her throat she began to choke and splutter, so that half of it dribbled down her chin and on to the tablecloth.

'There's a good little baby!' he sneered, releasing her head because the glass was empty. 'Now, how about some nice steak.'

She was trembling all over and heard herself stammering. 'I'm not very h… h… '

'Hungry?' he put helpfully, absent-mindedly taking a swallow from the whisky bottle.

Lisa didn't answer him, hoping that he'd walk away and settle down with the whisky bottle. Trapped in a sudden nightmare, she longed to be left alone. 'Fine,' he said pleasantly. 'Then let's go to bed: I feel like some fun.'

'I thought you were tired,' she murmured.

'Not now. You may know more about most things than I do, but not what I'm feeling. Are you going to move or do I have to make you?'

She moved. Walking as upright as she could and determined not to let him see her fear, which she sensed would only encourage him, she sat on the bed and stared straight into his eyes. 'Well?'

'Take off your clothes,' he continued pleasantly and began to search through the chest of drawers. Within seconds she was undressed, anxious for it to be over so that he would fall asleep. It was only when she saw what he had in his hands that her fear increased. 'What are those for?' she asked warily, eyeing the pair of tights he was holding.

'I thought we'd try something different tonight. They say women like being tied down, it makes them feel they aren't responsible for enjoying sex. Takes away any deep-rooted guilt.'

'I've never felt guilty about sex,' she protested as he tied her legs to the corners of the bed. She sat up and began struggling with him when he tried to grab her left hand, but he bent her fingers back so savagely that she screamed and her arm went limp, allowing him to tie her left hand as well.

After that he turned of the main light and slowly began to take off his own clothes. 'Right, get started,' he instructed, standing in his already bulging Y-fronts. 'Start playing with yourself. Save me the trouble of getting you warmed up. That's why I left your right arm free!'

'I won't!' She said physically sick.

'I rather think you will, unless you want me to knock the shit out of you, and somehow I don't imagine that will be good for the baby you’re so pleased about.'

'You wouldn't!' she cried in disbelief. 'Toby, you wouldn't do that. This is getting silly. Untie me and let's… '

He stepped closer and slapped her several times round the face. The slaps weren't hard but she could tell from the look in his eyes that he'd like to hit her harder. 'Believe me, I won't have any compunction at all about hitting you, pregnant or not. Now, do as I say. You women all think you're better at it than men, don't you? More sensitive, a more delicate touch. Well, let me see just how good you are.'

Her mouth was dry, her tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth, and she'd never felt less sexually aroused in her life. Tentatively she placed her right hand between her thighs and moved it aimlessly around, her eyes tightly closed.

'Open your eyes!' he shouted, still drinking from the whisky bottle, his voice thickening with excitement. She ignored him and the blow to her breasts came as such a shock that she caught her breath with astonishment and then, as the pain spread, cried out a little. 'I meant what I said,' he warned. 'Open your eyes.'