A Class Apart (64 page)

“I’m sorry, you must accept it. You cannot marry Kate, can you see that now? You cannot marry her for your own sake.”

Nick stared at him, for the moment speechless.

“Ask yourself, can you really live with a woman whom you know to be making love with someone else? Can you marry a woman who is already in love with someone else? Can you accept a woman whom you know is doing what Kate is doing, with her own father? Of course you can’t. No one could.”

“You’re a liar, a filthy stinking liar.” Nick was panting with rage. “She’s a normal, decent human being.”

“Mr Gough, Kate is already mine. Kate has been mine for a long time now. We have shared . . . shall we say, experiences? We share a love that no one, not even you, can come between. If you must put her to the test, well, then you must. But it will be a bitter and hard lesson for you to learn. Why not spare her the agony of having to admit it? It is hard enough for her as it is. But everything she does, you know, is for me. I daresay, if you think about it, you will already have realised that. Even that silly mistake with Joel Martin. Yes, even that was for me. She wanted us to have a child, you see. But of course, for us, there can never be any children, not of our own. But she needed Martin to say that it was his, can you see that? She needed him to say that it was his, in order to avoid any suspicion falling on us. And then she even went out and stole a baby.” His face was sad as he spoke, and he looked into the empty fireplace again. “I told her, after what had happened with Martin, that one day we would have a child that we could call our own, and so she went out and stole one, even though she knew it was wrong.” He stopped and looked up. “And now she has agreed to marry you. She has agreed to marry you, so that she can have that child. And when she does, your marriage will be over. She will leave you, and bring the baby to me.”

“I don’t believe anything you’re saying,” said Nick, but the conviction had gone from his voice. There was something in what the man was saying that had started alarm bells in his head. An odd comment here, a look there, so many little things that seemed to give some insane truth to what he was saying.

“Would you like me to call her? I was hoping that you wouldn’t need her to confirm any of this, but if that’s what you want, well . . .”

Nick looked at him. “You could go to prison for what you’re telling me now.”

“Perhaps I should remind you of how this conversation began,” Calloway answered.

Nick turned away. “It’s not true,” he said, “it’s not true. It can’t be true.” He was speaking more to himself than to Calloway.

Nick found himself at the window. Kate was at the end of the garden, sitting on the bank and looking down into the stream. She looked so innocent, so lovely.

“I’m sorry,” Calloway said. “I understand how you must be feeling. You see, I love her too.”

“Shut up! Shut up!” Nick yelled. “I don’t want to hear any more. I don’t believe you. I’ll never believe you. OK, call her in. Let’s get her in here. Let her tell me. If she tells me it’s true, then I’ll go. I’ll go and I’ll never come back. But until I hear it from Kate herself, I’ll never believe it.”

“If you’re sure that’s what you want,” said Calloway, getting to his feet.

Nick was far from being sure, but he nodded.

“Wait here.”

Nick stayed beside the window, and watched as Calloway walked across the length of the neat lawn to where his daughter was sitting. His heart was beating so hard he thought it might burst from his body. He saw Kate throw her hands up in the air, and turn away. He watched her as she turned back to her father, and she seemed to be shouting at him. And then she beat her fists against him, and he tried to take her in his arms. She pushed him away, and walked back towards the house. Her father came after her, and now Nick could see that she was crying.

“Why!” he heard her scream. “Why?”

He couldn’t hear anything else that was being said, they were still too far away. Her father was speaking; Kate clearly didn’t want to listen. Then she fell to her knees, and began to pound the ground with her fists.

Calloway knelt beside her, and tried to lift her into his arms, but she pushed him away. He managed to keep hold of her hand, and he was still speaking. Now she was listening, and then she was looking at him. She fell back on the grass, and Calloway sat in front of her, so that Nick could no longer see her.

Then he saw her arms go round her father’s neck and Nick watched in morbid fascination as he realised that Calloway was kissing his daughter, and his daughter was kissing him back.

He couldn’t stand to see any more. He ran from the house, leapt into his car and drove away. His mouth was coated with a bitter bile, and his gut twisted in protest at what he had witnessed. He felt sick to his very soul.

In the garden, her face buried in her father’s neck, Kate begged him to tell her why Nick no longer wanted to marry her.

THIRTY-SIX

Ellamarie stood in the doorway, looking at Bob. He was sitting in a chair, the odd one that matched nothing else in the room, and now, for the first time, she thought he looked just as out of place. His face was weary, the laughter lines round his eyes drawn as if they were trying to shape his face into that of an old man. Outside, the wind was humming the tune of approaching autumn, and she looked up as a steady beat of rain began to drum against the windows.

Bob buried his head in his hands. Her heart ached and she wanted to go to him. Instead she asked, “Would you like a drink? Some coffee? Something stronger?”

He shook his head, “No, nothing.”

She walked into the room, and sat down on the sofa. As the silence lengthened the feeling of nausea in the pit of her stomach grew. Finally, he lifted his head from his hands and looked at her, but when he didn’t speak she said: “I was worried. I thought you might have called. It doesn’t matter,” she added, hurriedly, “you’re here now, and I can see that you’re all right.”

He got up from his chair. “Look, Ellamarie, we both know why I’m here, so let’s not pretend any more.”

Ellamarie didn’t answer. The cold hand that had been hovering around her heart for days was now beginning to close.

“The truth is, I can’t go on like this. I’ve got to get away. I need some time to think. Some time on my own.”

“I see.”

“For God’s sake, don’t sound like that. Don’t you know how difficult this is already?”

“What am I supposed to say?” she said, knowing that she was speaking to a stranger.

“I don’t know,” he answered. “And that’s the trouble. I don’t know anything any more.”

She had to ask him. “Does that mean that you don’t love me any more?”

“Look, I’ve just said I don’t know. All I know is that I can’t make a decision right now.”

“Have you told your wife?”

“Yes.”

“How did she take it?”

“How do you think she took it?”

Ellamarie turned away. So now she knew what it was like at the end. So often she had wondered, thought about the things he might say, but she had never dreamt that he would hurt her like this. She looked at him, barely hearing his words as they came across the room at her like knives achieving an easy target. His face was anguished as he told her that probably he did still love her, but he loved his wife too. OK, he knew he had lied, but he hadn’t meant to. He didn’t know how any of this had happened, but it had, and now he was sorry he was hurting her. He’d do anything he could to make it up to her. She could still play the pan of the Queen in the
Famous Tragedy
, they’d shoot round her pregnancy if it showed. And then she’d have the baby, and he’d give her money to help her look after it. But the way things were right now, he just had to get away.

Ellamarie stood up, swallowing hard against the pain that was threatening to engulf her. She moved around the room, not knowing where she was going or why, she just knew she had to move. Her fingers were trembling, clutching her throat.

“Your things,” she said finally. “Shall I help you to pack? I’ve got most of it ready.” She smiled at him, and the barrier he’d carefully tried to hold in place fell completely.

“Stop it!” he yelled. “Stop behaving like this. Why don’t you cry? Stamp, shout, say something, but stop being so bloody noble.”

“I don’t know what to say,” she answered, her voice barely audible. “You see, I love you, Bob.”

“For Christ’s sake,” he shouted, grabbing her by the shoulders. “I’m only going to spend some time on my own. The way you’re behaving anyone would think I was running out and deserting you.”

“Aren’t you?”

The blow to her cheek stunned them both. After a long moment she looked up into his eyes and saw that he was crying. She reached out for him, trying to take him in her arms, but he turned away. “Please, I don’t want you to touch me.” He walked away from her and stood in front of the fireplace, his hands pressed against the shelf, looking down into the ashes.

“You don’t have to hurt me like this,” she said, her voice shaking.

His face was stricken as he turned to her, but the phone rang at that moment preventing him from speaking. Ellamarie went to answer it. It was Kate.

As she listened while Kate told her that it was all over between her and Nick, Ellamarie watched Bob pace the room. It didn’t occur to her to end the telephone call, she had been too long a source of support and strength to her friends when they needed it. Once or twice Bob glanced up, as if he were waiting for her to finish. She looked back at him, barely listening to what Kate was saying. Her cheek still stung from the blow and unconsciously she was stroking it with her fingers. Suddenly he stopped pacing and turned to look at her. His face was a mask, and the eyes that had always looked at her with laughter and love were steely. He bent to pick up his coat. He didn’t look at her again, but walked past her and out through the door.

By the time Kate rang off the pain had become so intense it was threatening to choke her. She didn’t know what she had said to Kate. She looked across the room to the door. In the end, he had walked away. Quietly, with no backward glance, he had detached himself from her life. He hadn’t even said goodbye.

Normally Ashley walked to work, the brief half-hour alone in the mornings gave her time to think without interruption. But this morning, overwhelmed by lack of sleep, she flagged a passing taxi and collapsed into the back seat.

Her eyes were sore, and she rubbed her fingers against them. Her mind started to spin again. She had returned home in the early hours of the morning, after sitting up half the night with Nick in his room at the Waldorf. She couldn’t think about that now, she didn’t want to think about it ever. A bitter clench of nausea gripped at her stomach. She tried to shake it off, but it persisted.

She knew it wasn’t just the conversation that she had had with Nick, though God, that was bad enough.

Alex had been irritable when she’d left that morning, and Keith’s mood had only got worse since the scene they had had on Monday evening. She was tempted to go back home again, but looking at her watch she knew that she didn’t have time. They would be leaving for Boston about now, where they were spending the night with some distant relatives of Keith. Besides, Conrad had asked to see her at eleven thirty; he would know the results of yesterday’s meeting with David Burgess.

It was eleven o’clock when she walked into the IBM building. She knew she must try to reach Kate. She closed her eyes as she thought of her friend, and wondered what the hell she was going to do. But it couldn’t be true, no matter what Nick thought he had seen, it just simply couldn’t be true. She had to speak to Kate. She had no idea what she was going to say, but she had to find out the truth for herself.

As she walked into her office she told Jan that she was not to be disturbed and, closing the door behind her, she went straight to the telephone.

There was no reply from Kate’s flat. She let it ring and ring, willing Kate to answer, but it was no use. She didn’t want to ring her at her parents’ home, but there seemed no other way.

Kate’s mother answered the phone and Ashley apologised for ringing so early in the morning, but Kate wasn’t there either.

Replacing the receiver, Ashley buried her face in her hands. She must think. There must be something she could do. Did she dare tell Jenneen or Ellamarie? Nick had told her in confidence. But, Jesus Christ, they had to trust one another; if they didn’t, then it would be the end.

She picked up the phone again. She was aware that her voice was shaking as she told Jenneen all she knew. Jenneen was every bit as horrified as Ashley had been. “But it’s not true, Ash,” she said, when Ashley had finished, “you know it’s not true.”

“I hope you’re right, Jenn.”

“Jesus Christ, it can’t be. I must see her.”

“She’s not at home. I’ve tried.”

“Leave it with me,” Jenneen said. “I’ll find her.”