Drowning (11 page)

I slammed the door behind me and stomped out of the garage into the cool, airy lodge.

I was halfway down
the corridor leading to my bedroom when I realized that the lodge was not just cool, but deliciously cold. Music was playing from the dining room and I could hear the sound of a vacuum cleaner coming from somewhere nearby.

I entered my bedroom to find Miriam folding a small pile of freshly laundered clothes and towels into the cupboard.

“Good morning,” she said cheerfully, seeming not to notice my disheveled appearance or, more probably, simply accustomed to women looking the way I did when they’d spent some time in the company of her boss.

“Morning,” I responded with a tight smile.

“We have full power again. The main supply is restored,” she told me.

“Oh, that’s great.”

“It is, yes. We were lucky. The damage was not on this side of the river. The storm knocked a transformer out on the other side, so they were able to repair it this morning. I will bring coffee now. And would you like a waffle? Ice cream and fruit salad?”

“Thanks,” I told her. It was easier not to resist Miriam when she’d made her mind up. In that respect, I had to admit, she had something in common with her employer.

After she’d left the room I stepped under the shower to wash and condition my hair. When I stood under the hot water I thought I could smell Nicholas on me, and I felt both cheap and promiscuous
as I poured half the bottle of shower gel into my hands to banish his scent from my skin. I soaped my sensitive breasts, and washed between my legs, where I was still swollen and slick from the sex we’d had.

My body was a mess of bruises. The one on my chest was looking worse every day—a grim thunderstorm landscape of purples and yellows. It was tender to the touch, but looked worse than it felt. Others, too. A small bruise on my upper thigh and one on my calf.

And, on the inside of my left arm, the incriminating line of blue-black fingerprints from where Vince had grabbed me. Those, also, were at their worst now. Another few days and I hoped they would fade, together with the giant bruise on my hipbone, now purple, red, and yellow, from where I’d fallen against the corner of the desk when he’d yanked me towards him.

Back in the bedroom, wearing clean clothes and with my hair finally combed out and under control again, I devoured the large, late breakfast, which Miriam had left on the table. I was surprised by my appetite until I remembered what a physically active morning it had been.

I turned my phone on.

Waiting to see if I had a message from Vince, I felt acute nausea. What would I tell him? How would I word my story? Would he be able to pick up from my voice what I had done?

There was no message although the network notified me I’d had three missed calls from him since my phone had been off. I called him, praying he wouldn’t answer, and he didn’t. I left a brief message, telling him I hoped his shoot was going well and that I loved him. I felt sick while I was saying the words. Would the rest of my marriage feel like this—as if I was living a lie?

I turned my phone off again and connected to the Internet to find I had mail. The insurance company had sent a claim form for me to fill in, and Samantha had messaged me again.

Hey, girlfriend…
Sam’s mail read.
I haven’t heard back from you since my last mail. What’s going on? Are you sure you’re okay? Please write soon… I’m worried. Love and hugs.

Reading her words made me smile.

I took a little while to compose a reply.

Hey girlfriend yourself!

I’m sorry about the lack of communication. I didn’t know how best to reply to your last mail. I was hoping if I waited a day or two, everything would be sorted out and I could tell you it was all fine. But instead, it’s all gotten much more complicated. It’s only since I’ve been apart from Vince that I’ve had a chance to realize how crazy jealous he can be. And that’s not even the worst of it.

I paused for a moment, thinking what my next words should be.

I’ve just been unfaithful to Vince with the man who saved me from drowning, the one I told you about, who owns this estate and who’s a serial womanizer. I don’t know how I feel now or what to do. I feel very alone. I’ve made some stupid decisions and I think they might have started further back than this morning. My life is a mess at the moment and I don’t know how to fix it.

I stared down at the words on the screen.

This was a confession. It was dangerous.

Please, please don’t tell Vince any of this. Strictest secrecy, okay?

This email could get me into big trouble. I should delete it or at the very least, make it less incriminating. In the end, I didn’t. Before I could change my mind, I pressed send. I watched it go, feeling so tense that when there was a knock on my bedroom door, I almost jumped out of my skin.

“Who—who is it?” I fumbled with the mouse, clicked the window closed.

“It’s me. Nick.”

Nick?

“What is it?” And then, realizing the idiocy of conducting a conversation with him through a closed door, I added, “Come in.”

He opened the door and walked in. He, too, looked freshly showered. His damp hair was the color of honey and he was wearing a smart white golf shirt with the leopard logo I now recognized. I could see fine golden hairs on his bronzed forearms. I wanted to touch him. I craved the feeling of his skin under my fingertips. I knew exactly
what it would be like—a little warmer than my own and surprisingly silken to the touch.

I shook my head briefly, hoping to clear these dangerous, intruding thoughts.

“Sit down,” I said, and he took a seat on the armchair nearby.

“Much more pleasant in here with the A.C. operational,” he observed. “Anyway, I came to tell you we’ve been invited to a party.”

“A party?” I frowned at him, confused. “Both of us? Who…?”

“It’s to celebrate the electricity being reconnected, apparently.” I realized Nicholas looked as perplexed by this invitation as I felt. “Thandiwe and Berndt are holding it—the owners of the estate where we went yesterday, remember? They’ve invited everyone on this side of the river; a total of seven households, including ours.”

“Well, we’d better be polite and go, then.”

“I suppose so.” He gave me a baffled smile. “This is a new one for me. Socializing with all the neighbors.”

I couldn’t help feeling amused that, finally, I’d found an area where Nicholas felt out of his depth. Saving people’s lives and starting up businesses were clearly all in a day’s work for him, but attending a local get-together was not.

Or perhaps that wasn’t what was troubling him. Suddenly, I thought of the reason why he might have come to tell me this.

“Listen, if you’d rather I didn’t go with you, I’ll be totally fine staying here.”

Two deep furrows appeared in his brow. “How do you mean?”

“Well…” Damn. I’d misunderstood him and now I was fumbling to get my point across. “We hardly know each other, and these are your neighbors. You might want to socialize with them without having a—well, without me around.”

“I see what you were trying to say.” He was silent for a moment. “Erin, can I tell you something?”

“Sure.”

“I really enjoy your company. I want you to come along with me. If you’re wondering whether the neighbors know what I’m like, and whose company I’ve enjoyed in the past, and what they’ll be thinking
about you, all I can tell you is that they don’t know. And it’s not as if I’ve had multiple liaisons recently in any case. The last time I slept with anybody was with Angela.”

“With Angela?” But that had been nearly six months ago.

“Yes.”

“Oh.” I was quiet for a minute. “You’ve been misrepresenting yourself to me then. Here I was thinking you had a different partner every two weeks.”

The shadow of a smile warmed his face. “A decade ago, you would have been about right with that guess. Nowadays, I’m more selective. I apologize for the misrepresentation.”

“Accepted.” Despite all my efforts not to, I was smiling, too. “I’ll go to the party with you. What time do we have to be ready, and is there anything we need to bring?”

“Bring?” He stared at me, nonplussed. “Damn it. I forgot to ask. I’d better call Thandiwe back.”

“Ask her if she needs a salad. Or…” What else had I seen in the fridge? “Or a fruit salad. We could take both. And we should bring drinks, of course.”

“Drinks, yes.” Still frowning, he took his phone out of his pocket and dialed her number.

By six-thirty p.m. we were ready to go. I was wearing the only dress in my collection of borrowed clothes—a silken sundress—and over it, to cover the bruises on my arm, a light, white lace jersey that was a size too big. The green salad, which I had made, and a fruit salad made by Miriam were packed in the cooler box, together with a six-pack of beer, wine, and a bottle of champagne. Behind us, Joshua and Miriam, who had also been invited, were climbing into the beige estate vehicle.

The evening was finally starting to cool down and clouds were boiling on the eastern horizon. Wind tugged at the tree branches.

“More rain on the way,” Nicholas observed. “I hope this doesn’t wash away the sandbags Joshua spent all day packing in.”

“I hope it doesn’t take the power box out again, otherwise they’ll have to cancel the party,” I added, causing Nicholas to raise his eyebrows.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t.”

When we arrived at the estate, five other large vehicles were already parked in the driveway. Music was blaring from loudspeakers set up in the covered outdoor entertainment area. A string of colored lights had been threaded along the top of the patio roof.

“Good evening!” Thandiwe, resplendent in a brightly patterned gown, bustled over to greet us all, and gave me a hug. “Thank you for coming, and for bringing the salads. Erin, they’ve made good progress with the river banks today. I’m sure it won’t be long before you’re back with your hubby, but in the meantime we’re so glad to have you here.”

I didn’t dare look at Nicholas as she spoke. Then she turned to him. “Evening, Doctor! Lovely to see you. David’s chin is much better. He’s playing upstairs now.” She kissed him on the cheek, then gestured toward the party lights. “Please go and enjoy yourselves. I apologize for the loud music. When you have fourteen-year-old and twelve-year-old girls, these things just happen!”

Nicholas and I walked toward the entertainment area, but Thandiwe tugged at my arm and held me back.

“I thought I’d just let you know,” she said in a stage whisper. “The Groenewalds, who live on the farm to the north of us, have their niece visiting. She’s twenty-three and gorgeous! They want to set her up with Nicholas. Isn’t that exciting? I’m going to introduce him to her now. There may be some matchmaking happening here tonight.” She gave me a conspiratorial grin before hurrying off in pursuit of Nicholas.

Suddenly, it was as if all the fun and expectation had been sucked out of the evening. I did my best to smile back at her, to hide the surge of jealousy and disappointment that swept through me. Thandiwe could not possibly have known the hurtful effect that her words
would have. She had seen my wedding ring. I had told her about my husband. She had obviously assumed, given what I had told her, that I was a happily married woman who couldn’t wait to get out of here and back home.

And I had been, only seventy-two hours ago. Where had it all gone wrong?

On feet that were suddenly leaden, I trailed toward the party area, to find Miriam standing next to Mrs. Groenewald, a well-groomed matriarch who was now in conversation with Nicholas.

“Lovely to see you, Mr. de Lanoy,” the matriarch said. “Hasn’t this bridge been an inconvenience? Poor Colette, my niece, was supposed to attend her honors degree celebration at Wits yesterday and she has not been able to get out of here. It is so disappointing for her. Colette, do come here and meet Mr. de Lanoy.”

A slender young woman with sparkling green eyes and thick, wavy auburn hair stepped forward and shook Nicholas’s hand. She was taller than I—in her high heels she stood nearly eye to eye with him.

Nicholas glanced over his right shoulder and I thought he might be checking to see where I was. Well, I didn’t want to rain on their parade. I ducked to the left, rounded a pillar, and found myself standing in a paved barbecue area where a fire was blazing. A rotund grey-haired man in a white short-sleeved collared shirt was poking at the coals with a stick. We made our introductions—he was Kobus Bosnik from the farm on the other side of the hill.

“Would you like a drink?” he asked me.

“I’d love some white wine.” I wasn’t in a champagne mood any more. While Kobus was organizing me a glass, I peeked round the pillar again to see, with a bitter stab of jealousy, that Nicholas had his back to me and had been drawn into a tight little group on the far side of the room with Mrs. Groenewald on his left and Colette on his right.

While I watched, Colette laughed at something Nicholas had said to her, her full, red-lipsticked mouth parting. She placed her left hand on his shoulder and he leaned toward her. I turned away, unable to
watch any more, grateful when a minute later, Kobus brought me a brimming glass of white wine.