The Desperate Wife’s Survival Plan (14 page)

SAMANTHA CHECKED HER
appearance in the bathroom mirror. Not bad . . . not bad at all. Her hair was a little messy but in a good, sexy way. Her eye make-up had stayed intact. She peered closer. The blusher had disappeared from her cheeks but they still had colour in them.

She smiled a wicked smile at her reflection. Tonight had finally been the night. The weeks of flirting,
the subtle gestures, the secret smiles . . . It had all been worth it.

She walked back into the bedroom. Only a single light was switched on next to the bed but even in the semi-darkness she could see what great shape Richard was in.

He was lying on his front, his bare back smooth and thankfully hair-free. As he stretched out one arm, she saw the muscles flex inside it. She walked quietly to
the bed and reached out her hand to stroke his ruffled hair. But she managed to stop herself just in time and sat down on the edge of the bed instead.

‘Hey, you,’ she said in a husky tone.

‘Mmm,’ he murmured, reaching out to pull her down on the bed with him. He kissed her on the lips before moving his mouth down her neck.

‘Uh-uh,’ she told him, pulling away. ‘It’s time for you to get back
to your room, before anyone finds out.’

‘Why don’t I leave early in the morning instead?’ He drew her close and began to kiss her again.

‘Because someone will see.’

God, but she really wanted him to stay, to keep touching her. But she had to be strong if he couldn’t.

‘Come on,’ she said, her voice a little firmer, as she managed to escape from his arms to the other side of the bed.

With a
groan, Richard threw off the covers and began to tug on his trousers. She remained on the bed, holding the sheet over her demurely.

Once dressed, he bent down towards her.

‘Damn, you look so sexy,’ he told her, before giving her a rough kiss. ‘I’ll call you.’

Samantha nodded. ‘Yes, please.’

One last goodnight kiss and he was gone, closing the hotel door quietly behind him.

She sighed and
sank back on to the pillows. She was right to be sensible. The last thing they needed was some nosy work colleague spotting him wandering through the hotel corridors early in the morning.

And this affair was going to be on her terms, no one else’s. Samantha allowed herself a smile of pure satisfaction. She was in total control and loving it.

Caroline took a long gulp of her chilled white wine.

‘I thought we’d got past the toddler-tantrum phase.’

Jeff refilled his own glass. ‘We have. She’s just going through a growth spurt before school. You know, finding her own little way in the world.’

Caroline raised her eyebrows in surprise. ‘Have you been on Mumsnet again?’

He shook his head. ‘No, but I have actually read some of those parenting books you bought.’

‘Go on then,’ she said, relishing
the relaxing effect the wine had on her. ‘Why don’t you tell me which level of competency Flora should be at before she starts school?’

Jeff laughed. ‘Competency? She’s four years old!’

‘I know, but in terms of social and physical skills, what do you think we should be concentrating on?’

Jeff tried not to despair over his wife’s perfectionism when it came to their daughter. He just wanted to
relax after a hard week’s work, not run through more parenting checklists.

He looked at Caroline sitting on the sofa next to him. She was gorgeous, kind and generous, but she could stress for England. And a discussion about school was the last thing on his mind at that moment.

He reached out to play with a long lock of titian hair that had escaped from her ponytail.

‘Jeff? Did you hear what
I said?’

He smiled at his wife. ‘Do we have to talk about this tonight?’

‘When else do we get the chance? You’re at work all week until late and we can’t talk about it when Flora’s about.’

‘What about tomorrow night?’

Caroline frowned. ‘What’s wrong with tonight?’

‘Because I don’t want to talk about Flora tonight.’ He shuffled closer to her on the sofa. ‘Tonight is going to be all about us
grown-ups.’

‘Jeff . . .’ she protested as he began to nibble her ear lobe. ‘This is important.’

‘You’re right about that,’ he murmured.

‘That’s not what I meant,’ she told her husband.

But the couple of glasses of wine were beginning to relax her. Perhaps the conversation about their daughter could wait.

Caroline was smiling as she leant over to kiss Jeff.

‘You look awful,’ said Sidney.

‘Says the man with the hacking cough in May,’ Julie told her uncle.

‘It’s nothing.’

Julie wasn’t so sure. Her uncle Sidney was in his mid-seventies and that cough had been hanging on since late March.

‘So have you been out on the town with your friends again?’ he asked, cupping the mug of tea Julie had made him between his hands.

‘No such luck,’ she said. ‘Nick had all of his mates over last
night.’

Sidney shook his head. ‘When are you going to throw him out?’

She was aghast. ‘I can’t!’

‘Why not?’

‘He’s my son.’

‘So? Might do him a bit of good rather than all this smothering.’

‘There’s no work out there for anyone in their late teens, you know that.’

Sidney fixed his niece with a stare. ‘Has he even tried looking?’

Julie sighed. ‘He’s all I’ve got.’

‘Yes, but he knows that
and takes advantage of you. Always has.’

‘I know.’

After they’d finished off a packet of biscuits, Sidney showed Julie out. His progress down the stairs from his flat was painfully slow. She knew that eventually they would have to make a tough decision, but he had lived here all his life. The flat was above the sweet shop which had been in Sidney’s family for many years. These days, though,
the shop was closed.

She drove home, yawning. She really would have to have a word with Nick about the late nights. That morning, she had almost fallen asleep at her desk.

‘Nick?’ she called, as she opened up the front door.

‘In here,’ he shouted from the kitchen. ‘Where’ve you been? I’ve got a surprise for you.’

Julie sent up a silent prayer. Nick’s surprises were never good news.

She took
a deep breath and walked into the kitchen.

‘Got something to cheer you up,’ her son told her, opening the back door and heading outside.

For a fleeting second, Julie wondered whether he had actually bought her something for the garden. But she quickly decided that wasn’t possible. Nick never gave her gifts like that.

She raised her head as her son returned. But he wasn’t alone. Her motherly
instincts had been spot on.

‘This is for you.’

Nick held out a small, wriggling puppy.

BY THE TIME
she arrived at Mrs Wilberforce’s house on Friday afternoon, Charley didn’t think it was possible to feel any lower.

The cleaning job was wretched, but the ongoing effects of the bankruptcy hung over her like a black cloud. She had nothing left but the money in her handbag, and that wasn’t much.

As she passed through the kitchen, she glanced at Mrs Wilberforce’s
purse which had been left on the sideboard. Charley stopped short and stared down at it. All she needed was a little bit of money, she thought. Just enough to put in the electricity meter for the weekend and to buy some food. How easy it would be to turn to a life of crime.

She took a deep breath and began to turn away. She would never sink that low. She had nothing left but her morals and she
was going to cling on to them as long as she could.

She gave a start as she saw Mike standing in the back doorway, watching her. His eyes darted to the purse and then back to her face. Blushing, Charley quickly left to return to the drawing room. Could he tell what she had been thinking? She shook her head and switched on the ancient Hoover.

At the end of the afternoon she bumped into him once
more as they both waited patiently for Mrs Wilberforce to pay them.

‘That’s peculiar,’ said the old lady, frowning. ‘I could have sworn I had another £20 note in here.’

Charley watched as Mrs Wilberforce checked and rechecked the pockets of the purse once more.

‘Well, I don’t know,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘Let me just pop upstairs. I would hate not to be able to pay you both for your hard
work today.’

Charley watched her make her slow progress up the stairs. The last thing she needed was not to be paid. She had no food for the weekend and had been relying on this money.

In the silence that followed, she gradually became aware of Mike’s eyes upon her. He said nothing but her cheeks began to flush under his scrutiny. She forced herself to glance back at him, their eyes locking
for a moment. Then she looked away.

His dark eyes betrayed nothing but she knew what he was thinking. Knew what his silent accusation meant. And the embarrassment slowly changed to anger. What kind of a person did he think she had become? She hadn’t stolen anything.

Mrs Wilberforce reappeared on the landing.

‘Here it is!’ she called, waving the £20 note in her hand.

Charley flashed Mike a
smug smile before turning her attention to the old lady coming down the stairs.

‘I must have put it to one side last night,’ said Mrs Wilberforce, arriving in front of them. ‘There you are.’

She handed different notes to Charley and Mike.

‘Thank you,’ said Charley, putting the money in her handbag. ‘Well, I’d better go. Have a nice weekend.’

‘You too, dear.’

Mike caught up with her as she
walked towards the Mini.

‘What was all that about?’ he asked, grabbing her elbow. ‘That look you gave me. What’s going on?’

Charley spun round as he spoke, gazing up at him accusingly. ‘You know exactly what it was. You thought I’d taken the money, didn’t you?’

He rolled his eyes. ‘Of course not. How stupid do you think I am?’

‘Is that a rhetorical question?’ she snapped back.

‘I don’t understand
you at all these days,’ he told her, shaking his head.

‘Because you obviously think the worst of me. And what’s worse than being a thief? But you were wrong, weren’t you? I would never steal from anyone, regardless of any temptation to do so.’

‘It sounds like you’re arguing with yourself, not me.’

But Charley wasn’t listening to him, too intent on venting the resentment that had been building
inside her for so long.

‘Go on,’ she said, goading him. ‘Admit it. Tell me what you really think of me.’

He stood in front of her, their bodies almost touching. His disdain was almost overpowering as he glared down at her. When he finally spoke, his voice was scathing.

‘I try not to think of you, to be honest. You’re so self-obsessed. So wrapped up in your own little world of woe. It’s all
about you, isn’t it? God save me from women like you who are only interested in money.’

Shocked by his words, Charley gave him a hard shove so she could pass by him. She opened the car door and sat behind the wheel. She wanted to close the door but found Mike was hanging on to it.

‘Let go,’ she told him, tugging at the door handle.

He didn’t. ‘For the record, I never thought you had stolen
that money.’

She wrenched the door away from him and slammed it shut. The car started with a puff of grey smoke and a squeal from under its bonnet. Charley crunched it into gear and drove off.

ON THE WAY
home she received a phone call from Caroline, telling her to drive straight to Julie’s house after work.

All the women were enchanted by the fluffy golden retriever puppy as he charged around the garden chasing Flora, who was giggling with joy. The puppy’s short thick legs gambolled in all directions. Once in a while he would come to an abrupt halt and stare up
at them with his deep black eyes. His rapid panting seemed to make him smile as his pink tongue lolled out.

‘He’s adorable,’ cooed Caroline, reaching out to stroke the puppy’s soft fur.

‘He’s a menace,’ said Julie, scowling at the low branch of one of her favourite rose bushes which had lost a tug-of-war and was now lying on the ground.

She was not enchanted by the puppy. She was as mad at
her son as she had ever been.

‘I got it from a man in the pub,’ Nick had told her. ‘Thought it would cheer you up.’

‘Why would I need cheering up?’ she’d snapped.

‘Jeez,’ said Nick, puffing out a large sigh. ‘Thought you’d be pleased.’

‘Well, I’m not,’ said Julie, before trying out a more gentle tone of voice. ‘Look, I’m grateful. Honest, I am. But I don’t need one. I don’t want one. You’ll
have to take it back to wherever it came from.’

She knew she didn’t have time for a dog. She had her work and her garden. When would she find the time to walk the damn thing? What possible reason did she have to keep it? It had whined in the kitchen all night and there was pee all over the floor.

‘Come on,’ urged Samantha. ‘Aren’t you even a little bit tempted to keep him?’

‘For what reason?’
said Julie.

‘Perhaps he would be a bit of company for you,’ said Charley, who was discovering how lonely it was to live on her own. Maybe Julie had been lonely all these years as well.

‘Look, you can have him if you want,’ she said.

Charley shook her head. ‘No pets allowed in the flat.’

Julie turned pleading eyes towards Samantha and Caroline.

Samantha shook her head. ‘Allergies,’ she lied.

‘And I’ve got far too much on my plate,’ added Caroline very quickly.

‘Poor thing,’ said Charley. ‘It’s only a youngster. Fancy Nick not buying anything for him, like food or a bed.’

‘No surprise to me,’ said Julie.

She had already had to make a swift trip to Pets R Us the previous evening and had ended up spending £100 on food, bowls and all sorts of doggy paraphernalia. She wondered whether
some of it might be returnable.

She was convinced Nick would get it sorted. For once, he wouldn’t let her down.