The Mill House (14 page)

As her hand fell to her side she stood staring at the jacket draped over a stool behind the wheel. She was trying to make herself accept what she was seeing, to make some sense of it, but everything in her was rejecting it. There had to be some mistake. It couldn't be Josh's, nor was it his phone she'd heard ringing - and the noises upstairs had nothing to do with him either. But even as she stood there, trying to make it all mean something else, it was as though everything inside her was breaking apart. She pressed a hand to her mouth and tried to force herself to think. This wasn't his jacket, or his phone. She was mistaken, misreading everything, and any second now she would understand how. She heard Sylvia laugh, then the familiar sound of Josh's voice as he neared a

climax. She was wrong though, it wasn't him. She was imagining it. She tried to move and found she couldn't, because on some level, somewhere deep inside, she realised that hearing them was devastating enough, she didn't need to see them too.

With no real connection to what she was doing, she turned and walked out of the workshop. All she knew was that she needed some time to think, to absorb the horrible nightmare her life was suddenly becoming. Her father, then Josh ... She wasn't sure if she said his name out loud, or if it was screaming silently inside her. She was walking faster and faster, though she still had no idea where she was going, or what she should do. The loss of her father was beating a horrible tattoo. She wanted to run to him, as she had as a child, to have him make everything all right again, but he was gone now, she would never see him again, and the realisation of it made her stop suddenly as she started to gasp for air. Everything was coming in on her, the buildings, the noise, the smells, the people. It was too much, she had to break free ...

When she reached the car she tore open the door and once inside rested her head on the wheel, willing the panic to stop. OK, she'd been dealt two horrible blows in quick succession, but though it might feel as if the world was coming to an end, it wasn't. She could handle this. She wasn't going to allow it to drag her under, or let the terrible hollow opening up inside her to fill with fear. She had the strength to get through this, she would hold her life together and be there for her children, and for herself. The thought of losing Josh brought

the panic flooding back. She'd rather die than live without him, but she hated him for this. She'd never be able to forgive him, for he knew how deep was her fear of betrayal and abandonment. It didn't matter that he had no way of knowing that her father had just died, the fact that he was back there screwing Sylvia was enough.

As the thought of them together burned painfully in her heart she heard herself cry out. It was as though she was only just registering it - Josh and Sylvia. Her husband and her best friend.

'Oh my God,' she gulped, pressing her hands to her face, 'It can't be true. It just can't.'

She didn't know what to do, or where to go. She had no way of understanding how they could do this to her. The lies, the deceit, everything they were doing was beyond her comprehension. She realised that all the time she'd been shopping for him, for tonight, he'd been with Sylvia. She felt herself becoming heavy and nauseous as she realised that the visitor who'd turned up while she and Sylvia were on the phone could easily have been him.

'No!' she gasped as the horror of it swept over her. 'Please no.'

Her mobile started to ring, but she couldn't talk to anyone now. Without checking who it was, she turned it off and let her head fall back against the seat. She wanted somehow to go back in time, to erase the awfulness of the past ten minutes, as if none of it had ever happened. Her life could never be the same again now, and she felt suddenly totally alone, isolated in a world that was seeming more remote with every second that passed. She

wasn't sure which was scaring her more, her father's death, or Josh's betrayal, but it didn't matter. Both were intolerable, though the images of Josh with Sylvia, of their beautiful bodies entwined, and their passions aroused to a point where they lost control...

She couldn't bear it, she just couldn't. Not even in her worst nightmares had she ever imagined her husband was sleeping with her best friend. She wondered how long it had been going on, if they were in love, and desperate to be together, but couldn't because of her, and the children. The pain of the thought was so sharp that she pressed a hand to her chest to stop it, then she started violently, as someone tapped on the window to ask if she was leaving.

She nodded and turned on the ignition. She had to make herself think what to do now, for she couldn't just go on sitting here, as though by not moving she could stop the inevitable. She considered going back to confront them, but a hoot from an impatient driver forced her to put the car into gear and pull away.

She needed to go home now, she realised. She had to take some time to think and decide what she was going to do. Thank God the children weren't coming back till later, because she knew there was no way in the world she could pretend everything was normal after what she'd just found out, nor did she want them anywhere around when she finally came to deal with their father.

It was just after seven by the time Josh let himself in through the front door, to find the house

unusually quiet. The unease he generally experienced after spending time with Sylvia immediately started to increase, particularly as he'd been trying to call Julia since he'd picked up her message earlier telling him to get back to her urgently. For some reason she hadn't answered her phone, so in the end he'd called Shannon and Dan to reassure himself there was no problem with them. The relief of finding out they were OK had been short-lived, for he'd then received a text from Julia telling him to ignore the message she'd left and that she'd see him later at home. She didn't usually text him. It was the children who did that.

Now, as he dropped his keys on the hall table, he tried to bolster himself by insisting there was no way she could know about Sylvia, but with the Porsche parked outside, telling him Julia was at home, and the house seeming so silent, it wasn't quite working.

'Julia!'he called.

No reply.

He went down to the kitchen, but there was no sign of her there, or the children. It didn't appear anything was cooking, either. He glanced into his study to see if anyone was using his computer, but there was no-one there, nor in the laundry room, nor the garden or downstairs loo.

Still carrying the carefully wrapped vase he'd bought from Sylvia, he returned to the hall and called out again. 'Hi, I'm home. Where is everyone?'

His voice echoed into the silent TV room, the drawing room and up over the stairs.

'Julia!' he shouted.

'I'm in here,' she finally answered.

Realising her voice had come from the drawing room, he pushed open the door and frowned, for at first it appeared empty. Then he saw her standing by the window, and he knew right away that something was horribly wrong, not only from the way her back was turned, but because she was wearing her winter coat.

'Is everything all right?' he asked, as though the lightness of his voice could make it so. 'What are you doing in here? Where are the kids?'

'They're out for the evening.' As she turned to look at him he was taken aback by the paleness of her face, and the blankness of her eyes. It was as though she'd turned herself into a shell.

'Are you going somewhere?' he asked, meaning the coat.

She didn't answer.

Feeling awkward, and even vaguely annoyed, he held up the parcel. 'I've got a surprise for you,' he told her, 'a peace offering, I suppose. I'm sorry for everything I said the other night.' The words seemed to echo inside his head and he suddenly wished he hadn't bought the vase, for if anything represented his guilt this had to be it.

'What is it?' she asked.

He took it to her and handed it over. 'Why don't you open it and find out?'

Dragging her eyes from his she lifted the parcel from the bag, unwound the bubble wrap and gazed down at the exquisite harp-shaped porcelain vase. 'Of course,' she said quietly.

She looked up at him and a thud of horror struck hard in his chest. She knew.

'How much did you pay for it?' she asked.

He found himself unable to answer.

'Two, three thousand pounds?' she prompted.

Anger suddenly galvanised his voice. 'What the hell has got into you?' he demanded. 'Don't you like it, or something?'

'I'm just wondering what the price of your conscience is,' she replied.

He stared at her hard, wondering how the hell she'd found out, and if there was any way he could deny it.

'I was at Sylvia's today,' she told him. 'I know you were there too, so please don't deny it, and please don't try telling me it was to get this, because if you do, I'll smash it over your head.'

'Of course it was to get that,' he cried, then his eyes widened in disbelief as she let the vase slip through her hands and smash to smithereens on the hardwood floor.

'Tell me, is that how you pay her for sex?' she asked. 'Or is it just to buy off your conscience?'

'Julia, for Christ's sake .. .'

'How much was this one?' she cut in, lifting a porcelain crescent moon from its plinth. 'Two thousand?' Without waiting for an answer she raised it over her head and flung it against the wall where it dissolved into a thousand pieces.

'Julia! Just stop .. .'

'What about this one?' She was picking up another. 'One thousand? Less?' She hurled it into the fireplace, then turned back to face him. 'Do we have one for every time you fucked her?' she asked tightly, 'Is that what our little art display is all about?'

'Have you completely lost your mind?' he cried.

'Not yet, but I'm getting there.'

'For Christ's sake stop,' he shouted, as she began destroying pieces that had nothing to do with Sylvia. Lalique. Baccarat. Natzler.

'Julia, pull yourself together,' he roared, trying to grab her.

'Don't touch me,' she hissed, pushing him away. Her eyes were blazing with fury now, her voice shredded with contempt as she laid into him. 'How could you? How fucking could you?' she raged. 'She was my best friend, my best friend, and you, you faithless bastard ...' She slapped him so hard in the face that it cut his lip.

'You think every woman's on this earth just to part her legs for you, don't you?' she seethed. 'That's all that matters to you. Sex. We're not about anything else, you and me, and if you can't get it here, well that's all right, just as long as you don't go without. Am I right? Yes, of course I am. Forget about our marriage, forget about who you might be hurting, don't even bother to consider your children, just make sure you get what you want. Well you're a whore, Joshua! Do you know that? A filthy, disgusting whore who doesn't even come close to deserving the love of his family. You're even soiling our home just by being here.' Her lips were quivering, her chest heaving as she fought for air.

'Have you quite finished?' he asked tightly.

'Oh, I haven't even begun,' she spat. 'See this?' Tearing open her coat, she showed him the underwear she'd bought earlier. 'This was for you, because I know how much sex means to you,

because I know you can't live without it, so tonight I was going to try again.'

Privately stunned by her choice, he said, 'And right there we have it, don't we? You keep trying, Julia, but it never damned well changes. You make all these promises, you lead me on to believe you've got it sorted, but you never deliver, and now you've got the fucking nerve to stand there accusing me of ...'

'Don't you dare turn this around on me!'

'I'm not a fucking monk,' he yelled. 'And the hell am I going to apologise for wanting to have sex with my own wife. It happens to be because I love you .. .'

'Were you thinking about that while you were screwing Sylvia today?' she snarled. 'Were you saying to yourself, I love Julia...'

He made to answer, but she cut him off. 'I want to hear you admit it,' she challenged. 'Say the words Josh, go on, say them: I'm screwing your best friend ...'

'All right, I'll own up to it,' he raged, 'and now tell me what you'd prefer, that I go out and screw a stranger, someone who might actually end up wanting me, even loving me, instead of constantly pushing me away, and behaving as though I repulse her? Think how that would be, Julia, if I started to fall in love with someone else, if I started to break up our home because I don't have a proper relationship with my wife. I went to Sylvia because she won't make any demands, and because I don't want to lose you. You and the kids mean everything to me, but I'm a man, for Christ's sake, I have my needs, whether you like it or not...'

'Don't tell me any more,' she cried, clasping her hands over her ears, 'I don't want to hear it. You've betrayed me in the worst possible way, Joshua, you both have .. .'

'We did it to protect you. To stop me looking elsewhere.'

'Just listen to yourself,' she yelled. 'Are you really so pathetic? Is that what you believe?'

'It's what I know to be true. It's just sex, Julia. It doesn't mean anything ...'

'Maybe not to you, but to me it means you've lied and cheated and you're not the man I know .. .'