Agent Provocateur (44 page)

‘Did you tell him how you felt? How there is no way you were doing it for the bet?’

‘I told him I loved him, but he didn’t believe me. Now he’s probably going to confront her. I messed up.’

‘I feel responsible,’ Nicole repeats. She puts her arms around Grace and holds her as if she is a child. That is the way she has always felt about her: weirdly maternal.

‘You didn’t give me the idea.’

‘No, for that we have Fiona to thank, I know. But I pushed you into the article. I know you only did it because you were doing it for me.’

‘I love him.’

‘I know.’

‘What am I going to do?’

‘I have no idea.’

‘What if he never wants to see either of us again? What if I’ve wrecked all our lives?’

‘It wasn’t just you. She agreed.’

‘She agreed to the bet; she didn’t agree to me falling in love.’

‘You don’t control who you love.’

‘You really don’t, do you? But I can’t bear it if he hates me. I need to stop him from hating me.’

‘Well, let him calm down and then call him and tell him you need to explain. If he refuses to see you then you can write him a letter, write it all down.’

‘I could, couldn’t I? Do you think he’d read it?’

‘Give it a day or two before contacting him. Listen, I’ve rearranged all your work this week, and I think you should stay with me.’

‘I can’t do that.’

‘Why?’

‘Because he won’t know where I am.’

‘Oh, honey, I wish we’d never gone near that feature.’

‘But don’t you see, if we hadn’t I’d never have met him.’

‘And you wouldn’t be crying your heart out now.’

‘No, but I wouldn’t have had the wonderful feeling he gave me either, would I?’

‘This is it,’ Betty tells herself as she scoops up her bag and switches off the computer. ‘This is when he tells me he doesn’t want me anymore.’ She shakes as she puts her coat on.

‘Where are you going?’ Hannah asks.

‘To find out if I still have a marriage,’ Betty replies, as she walks out the door.

She hails a cab, unable to cope with public transport, but the traffic feels sluggish and she is so eager to get there that she begins to feel angry, impatient and out of control. As they stop at the hundredth red traffic light, she curses aloud and the driver shoots her a look. But her marriage is on the line, so she is allowed to swear.

‘Are you sure you’ll be all right?’ Matt feels the inadequacy of the question as he asks it. He has been feeling inadequate all day.

‘Do you mind if I stay at yours tonight? Will it be awkward because of Alison?’

‘No, you stay. I am sure Alison will be with Betty, anyway.’

‘I hate to think about that.’

‘I know.’

‘It’s like our lives are all messed up.’

‘I know.’

‘If I’d gone with Grace, that’s what I was thinking; how angry Alison would be, how our friendship would suffer as a result. I was trying to work out the right thing to do, but all along …’

‘I know, mate. Listen, you call me when you’re done and I’ll pick you up.’

‘No need. I’ll walk.’

‘OK.’ Matt has an overwhelming urge not to leave Johnny alone, but he doesn’t push it.

He is angry and hurt. He tries not to think of Grace, or hear her telling him she did love him, or picture her tears. Not now. The anger is his only weapon, his only guard. That is all he has.

He tours his home – the ‘marital home’ – thinking about how empty it feels. But then everything reminds him, not of who he is but of his marriage. Wedding photos on the mantelpiece; Cyril, his pet and her pet; the bathrobes on the back of the bathroom door; the books next to the bed. His, non-fiction, hers fiction. The two toothbrushes in the holder. His shaving stuff, her face stuff. The bed.

Anger is overwhelming now. He had all this, and even if he was tempted, it was she who nearly made him throw it all away.

The door opens and he walks downstairs. He sees her and remembers the first time he saw her. Her hair tumbling out of its clips, the stripy tights and the short, short skirt. The smile on her lips, the notebook, and her oversized bag. Everything is there in his head, and will be for ever. Along with Grace, and her magnificent legs, her huge eyes, her neatly coiffured hair, and her immaculate clothes. Anger is all he is.

‘Hi,’ Betty says. She can see that something is wrong, but he looks angry, not remorseful. She feels wrong footed.

‘I know,’ he replies. No elaborate plan, like with Grace; he has no desire for her. Not even with his anger.

‘You know what?’ Betty feels fear rip through her like a knife.
He
knows
.

‘About the bet. About Grace, about the honey trapping.’

Betty collapses on to the nearest chair. She is deflated.

‘Did she tell you?’ she asks through the tears.

‘No. But you should have done.’

‘I’m sorry.’ The words that are a red rag to a bull.

‘Oh, fuck me, that’s all right then. You make a bet with a stranger that she can’t seduce me? You think that that is in any way acceptable? Remember how much you hated her because of what she did and you do the same.’

‘It wasn’t the same. I trusted you.’

‘Then you should have told her to fuck her bet and told Fiona to get stuffed. How could you jeopardise everything?’

‘I didn’t think I was jeopardising anything. I thought you’d tell her to get lost.’

‘Now don’t you dare turn this round and blame me. I didn’t kiss her, I didn’t fuck her, although now I wish I had. I wish I fucked you both the way you’ve both fucked me.’

‘Johnny—’

‘Shut up. Just shut up. You lied to me, you deceived me, and I will never, ever forgive you. You hear me? I will never forgive you.’ He slams the sitting-room door shut and goes upstairs to pack.

She sits there, but is not sure how long for. She hears the opening and closing of the wardrobe. She hears his footsteps. She hears the front door open and slam. He is gone. He is gone for ever. All because of the bet. The fight is over and neither of them won, and neither did Johnny. They are all big fat losers.

Chapter Thirty-Four

‘I’d better go and see Betty,’ Alison says as she stands in the kitchen with Matt. Johnny is in the sitting room.

‘Do you think you should stay the night?’

‘Probably. Do you mind?’

‘No. I think Johnny’s going to keep me occupied.’

‘Oh God, I hate to think of what’s happened to them.’

‘I know. But, you know, I’m not sure we can fix this.’

‘I doubt we can. But we have to be there for them.’ Alison hugs Matt and goes to pack an overnight bag.

‘Bye then.’ She walks into the sitting room, feeling awkward.

‘Are you going to my house?’ Johnny asks, looking forlorn.

Alison nods.

‘Make sure Cyril is all right,’ he says.

She nods again.

Betty opens the door, looking awful. Instead of making a lame comment, Alison walks in and engulfs her in a hug. She sobs and sobs.

‘Is there anything I can do to get him back?’ she asks.

Alison just shrugs. Feisty Betty is feeling more than a bit hopeless.

Grace is sitting at home, trying to get her head together. It is refusing to be pulled into line. She doesn’t have any work on. Nicole has made sure of that, and she calls her every hour to make sure she is all right. They are meeting the following day for lunch, and Nicole has promised to help her sort things out. Grace is desperately trying to think of a way to put everything right; she wants him back. She doesn’t know how she is going to get him.

‘I am still so angry. It’s going round and round in my head and I feel so hopeless. I need to do something, you know, physical. I wanted to hit someone earlier; I was almost looking for a fight. But you know that that’s not me. Look what they’ve done to me.’ Johnny is seesawing between crying and anger. His fists remain clenched, his eyes red. He cannot cope with his feelings because he has no control over them.

‘I know. Look, how about going to the gym?’ Matt is feeling completely out of his depth, and he doesn’t know how to make the situation better.

‘The gym?’ Johnny looks at him with surprise.

‘They have a punch-bag, and I can hold focus pads for you. It’s lame but I couldn’t think of anything.’

‘No, no, that’s good. I can’t sit here. I think I’m going mad. Maybe punching a bag will help.’

Matt breathes a huge sigh of relief. At least something will work.

‘I fucking well need to get him back, but he’s not coming.’ Betty has stopped crying because she doesn’t find tears useful.

‘Not necessarily. Look, it’s early days and he’s angry and hurt. You have to give him time.’

‘Ali, I screwed up. You warned me, but I screwed up. I remember when Fiona first told me about Grace –I knew that it was bad, I knew I didn’t want to interview her. I wish I hadn’t.’

‘Does Fiona know?’

‘No, but she will soon, because I hold her responsible as well. Her and Grace and me, and Johnny.’

‘Johnny?’

‘You don’t understand. He’s angry because we lied to him, but he fell for her. He admitted it. He was falling for her, and although he wasn’t unfaithful he wanted to be.’

‘I don’t think—’

‘Ali, I don’t need protecting, not any more. There is no protection from this mess. I know that he fell for her; I could tell. And I bet he told Matt.’

Alison goes red and nods. ‘But he didn’t do anything,’ she adds quickly.

‘I know, but he wanted to. What kind of a marriage did we have?’

‘A near perfect one.’ Now Alison is angry.

‘Right. Fucking perfect, of course.’

‘Betty, shut up. You’re feeling sorry for yourself and I know that you’re justified, but you put a beautiful woman in front of him, you made her interested in things he was interested in. You did it. And maybe he did fall for her, but she flattered him. It wasn’t real, because Grace wasn’t real. She was a fantasy figure and any man would have felt at least confused by her.’

‘You’re right. This isn’t Johnny’s fault, it’s mine.’

Grace jumps when her buzzer goes and for a fleeting moment she imagines it will be Johnny. The voice on the other end surprises her. It is Oliver.

‘You didn’t call,’ she says as she opens the door for him. She doesn’t want to think about how she looks, with her face devoid of make-up, eyes red from crying and lack of sleep.

‘I didn’t think you’d let me come round if I did. You look awful.’

‘Thanks.’

He notices that her spirit has deserted her. ‘Let’s have a drink and a chat, shall we?’

She realises as he walks into the kitchen to take charge that she is incredibly relieved no longer to be alone.

‘So, don’t you wonder at my timing?’ Oliver asks as they sit down.

‘You mean, this isn’t a coincidence?’ This has only just occurred to her.

‘I called Nicole.’

‘I didn’t even know you knew Nicole.’ The mundane nature of the conversation is oddly soothing.

‘I know the company name – you’ve told me. I was worried about you so I called her.’

‘You were prying.’

‘Grace, we didn’t part on the best of terms and I’m a busy man, used to getting what I want. I have no time to play games. It’s hardly prying.’

‘Sorry.’

‘Anyway, it’s a good job I called because she told me what a mess things were.’

‘That’s one way of putting it.’

‘So, what are you going to do?’

‘What am I going to do? Nothing. Why should I do anything?’ She feels any strength of resolve disappear.

‘About the mess. You’re partly responsible.’

‘Oh, you mean that I should sort things out. Yes, that has occurred to me, but somehow I don’t think Johnny wants me anymore.’

‘I didn’t mean that.’

‘What then?’

‘Don’t you think you need to get everyone talking and everyone resolving things?’

‘No. I love him. I don’t care about her. I can’t. You have to understand, Ollie, that I didn’t think I could fall in love, but I did, with him. And I do love him.’

‘Like you couldn’t love me.’

‘Don’t be like that. I can’t cope if you’re like that.’ She shudders because she is already ensconced in one other person’s heart and she doesn’t want to know about his.

‘Sorry, that was wrong of me. I came here as a friend and I am your friend. You look like you could use one.’

‘I could, Ollie, I really could.’ She begins to cry and he holds her. ‘I have to write him a letter, explaining everything.’

‘Later, Grace. First we should talk.’

‘I have to write him a letter, Ali.’

‘What, explaining things?’

‘Yeah. That way he’ll read it. Well, he might read it but if I try to call—’

‘And you are a writer.’

‘Yes, yes, I am. Let’s get started.’

Alison watches as Betty goes to get a pad and a pen and starts writing. She hopes that it might help her even if it won’t help her marriage.

Betty writes from her heart. She won’t give him up without a fight, that much she is sure of, because she loves him too much and she still believes deep down that he loves her.

‘He might have thought he was falling for Grace but he wasn’t, was he?’ she asks, as if the conversation they had earlier hasn’t taken place.

‘No, Betts. He didn’t know her; he loves only you.’ I’m pretty sure of that.’

‘Will, it work out?’ Her voice is childlike, begging for reassurance.

‘I’m sure it will. Come on, finish the letter,’ is Alison’s mother like answer.

‘I feel so much better.’

‘Good, because I feel worse. Christ, you can really pack a punch.’ They are in the changing rooms, about to go into the shower.

‘Sorry, but it’s good for you too.’

‘Whatever.’ Matt smiles though, because despite the fact he feels as if his shoulder might be dislocated, Johnny is slowly returning to humanity.

After they shower, Johnny suggests going to the pub.

‘Are you sure?’ Matt doesn’t want to sound so wimp-ish but he doesn’t think he could cope with Johnny breaking down in public.