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Authors: Sophie King

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BOOK: Love Is a Secret
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‘She’s not in America.’

‘Then where is she?’

Sod it. He’d had enough of pretending to himself and the kids. Daphne might be able to carry it off and make excuses, but he couldn’t. Not any more.

‘She’s in prison.’ He laughed hoarsely. ‘That’s where she is, Caroline. In prison.’

 

 

 

 

40

 

‘Prison?’ Caroline wondered if she’d heard him correctly, with all the laughter, chattering and music around her. ‘Did you say “prison”?’

An older woman next to her turned sharply at the word and Mark nodded. His eyes were feverishly bright but his face was set. ‘That’s right. Shall we find somewhere quieter?’

She looked round for Jeff but he was lost in a crowd at the bar. It was rude of her to disappear but this was an emergency.

Clutching her still-full glass of champagne, she followed him out into the reception area and then an anteroom where there was a sofa. They sat down in unspoken agreement. ‘What did she do?’

‘Insider dealing.’ He spoke dully to the pale green wall behind her. ‘I told you she worked for an investment bank. Well, she bought some shares in another company, acting on a tip that she shouldn’t have – it’s complicated but there was a conflict of client interest – and she got caught.’

‘You didn’t know about it?’

‘She told me the extra money was a bonus.’ He shrugged ruefully. ‘I’m not great on finance – it’s not my field. In the end, she lied so much that she ended up believing herself.’

‘But why? Did you need the money?’

‘Not really. That was the crazy thing. But you have to know Hilary to understand. She’s fiercely ambitious and she likes nice things. God knows why she married me.’

‘Because you’re funny and warm and charming?’ suggested Caroline, softly. ‘Which prison is she in?’

He named one not far from London. ‘It’s one of the few in the south-east for women. And it’s got a good psychiatric unit, which is what Hilary needs. She’s in complete denial. Says she can’t remember any of it.’ He rubbed his eyes. ‘She’s depressed, too, so they’ve got her on these drugs that make her all dopey.’ He shuddered. ‘When I visit, the noise is unbearable. You sit in a room full of tables and chairs and have to shout to make yourself heard.’

This was awful. ‘But the children? Do they go?’

‘We haven’t told them.’

‘What?’

‘Hilary wouldn’t let me. She was so ashamed. It was true about her getting the transfer to New York and she’d have gone, too, if she hadn’t been caught. Shows how bad our relationship had got. But after she was convicted, she begged me to tell the kids she’d gone to the States for work. That was why we moved out of London to Oxford. Daphne lives there and no one else knew us, so they wouldn’t be able to tell the kids about Hilary. It’s a miracle we’ve managed to get away with it.’

He ran his fingers through his hair. ‘Christ, we even buy American postcards and stamps to send to the kids, imitating Hilary’s writing, to keep up the pretence. And because we can’t really post them – not with American stamps – we slip them into the post pile every now and then. We can’t ring her directly. In an emergency, we have to leave a message for her to call us. She’s allowed to phone us but only at certain times. You can imagine how hard that is for the kids.’

Someone walked past and Caroline paused until they were out of earshot. ‘Why didn’t you tell me the truth sooner?’

‘I didn’t know you. On the way back to the station after we’d kissed, I wanted to. But it didn’t seem the right time.’

Somehow her hand slipped into his. ‘You poor thing.’

He stiffened. ‘I don’t want sympathy.’

‘No, I can understand that. Do you miss her?’

Mark took his hand back. ‘I miss her for the children’s sake, but for me it’s a relief.’ He grimaced. ‘Terrible confession, I know, but she’s been impossible for years with awful temper tantrums or just being cold and distant.’

‘That last bit sounds familiar,’ murmured Caroline.

‘It got worse when she moved jobs. Working in money can do that to you and Daphne says she always had to be the best. But she didn’t seem like that when we got married. I think I told you she got sort of depressed after Freddy. She used to get all withdrawn and say she’d never be taken seriously at work because she had two kids.’

‘It’s not easy when you’re a mother and have a career,’ said Caroline, quietly.

‘I know, but—’

‘Caroline! There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere.’

She sprang up as Jeff approached, with more drinks. ‘I’m so sorry. This is Mark. We’ve been working together. Mark, this is Jeff, a friend of the family.’

The two men shook hands and she couldn’t help appraising them. She’d always considered Jeff tall but Mark towered over him.

‘I’m taking Caroline’s husband’s place tonight because he’s at a conference,’ said Jeff.

Despite what Mark had told her, she wanted to laugh. Dear old Jeff. So serious and honourable, making it clear he wasn’t her date and, if she wasn’t mistaken, flagging up her marital status.

Then she wondered if he’d picked up on the atmosphere between her and Mark and, suddenly, felt uncomfortable.

‘We had to talk work, I’m afraid, and it was too noisy in there.’

‘I won’t bother you, then.’

‘No, it’s fine.’ Mark stood up abruptly. ‘We’d just finished. Caroline, perhaps we can talk next week. Goodbye, Jeff. Nice to meet you.’

His table was nowhere nears hers. She spent most of the first and second courses looking around for him without success. Prison!

‘You’re very quiet.’ Jeff topped up her glass. ‘I’m sure he’s all right.’ It took a second to register that he was talking about Roger, not Mark. ‘It
is
a conference, you know. One of our chaps has gone.’

‘I’m beginning not to care,’ she said lightly. ‘You said to me, soon after it happened, that if I spent the rest of my life panicking about whether Roger would do it again I’d go crazy. You’re right. If he does, he does. At least now I know that I wouldn’t put up with it again.’

‘Caroline!’ A woman’s shrill voice cut in on them. ‘I didn’t know you were coming! Almost didn’t recognise you without your tennis gear! Rupert, this is Caroline.’

Caroline shook the limp hand of a short, squat man in a white dinner jacket next to Ginny, a flurry of white teeth and pink satin.

‘Rupert’s just taken over a PR company,’ she boomed, ‘haven’t you, darling? That’s why we had to come.’ She beamed at Jeff. ‘You must be Caroline’s husband.’

‘No,’ they said together.

‘Caroline’s husband is away on business,’ said Jeff, smoothly, ‘so he asked me to accompany his lovely wife.’

‘How sweet,’ simpered Ginny.

Her husband linked his arm through hers. ‘Better circulate, darling.’

‘Absolutely, Rupee. See you next week, Caroline.’

Jeff waited until they were out of earshot. ‘Doesn’t seem your type of friend.’

‘She’s not. But we met at the tennis club and she asked me to join her doubles set. I go for the exercise rather than the company.’

Caroline watched Ginny weave through the crowds, her husband’s arm round her waist. He might be short and squat with a limp handshake, but the realisation that they had more of a rapport than she and Roger could ever have made her immeasurably sad.

‘Would you like to dance, Caroline?’

They’d finished dinner but she couldn’t stop thinking about Mark’s wife. Jeff, as always, had been an attentive dining companion and talked entertainingly about his work and the woman barrister who had been pursuing him. He was always being chased by women.

Privately, Roger maintained that his friend embellished each situation to make a good story, but the rapt attention he was attracting from the pretty brunette on his right suggested otherwise.

‘I’d love to.’

The music was excellent. She adored the old tunes from the seventies that made her feel young again. Looking back, as she did too often nowadays, it was the only time when she had been truly herself.

‘You’ve got more stamina than me,’ gasped Jeff, after half an hour of golden oldies. ‘Where did you learn to jive like that?’

‘Roger taught me. Years ago.’

‘I’d forgotten how well he could dance.’

‘He doesn’t now. At least, not with me.’

‘Don’t, Caroline. You’ll torment yourself.’

His sympathy irritated her and she turned to go back to their table.

‘Hello again.’ Mark looked up as they reached it. ‘Would you like to dance?’

‘We’ve just been on the floor,’ said Jeff, pulling out Caroline’s chair.

She put her bag on it. ‘Actually, I’d love to.’ What right had Jeff to decide what she should do? ‘Thanks.’

Mark was an amazing dancer, seeming to know instinctively which way she was going to turn. Yet at first she felt inhibited.

Dancing with Jeff had been like wearing a familiar pair of socks, but with Mark it was like slipping into an Agent Provocateur basque. Thrilling but unexpectedly comfortable – and so different from that terrible party in Oxford when she and Roger had been unable to look each other in the eye.

‘That was great. Thanks.’ He smiled at her. ‘Stay for another?’

She nodded as the slow music started. Without saying anything, he drew her to him, his arm round her waist. Careful to keep some space between them, she put one hand on his shoulder and the other in his. The feel of his skin sent electric shocks through her. ‘I keep thinking about what you did,’ she said softly.

‘And I keep thinking I shouldn’t have.’

She felt headily irresponsible, all sensible decisions flying out of her head. ‘I’m glad you did. I mean,
we
did.’

His hand tightened round her waist and she wished Jeff wasn’t sitting at the table, waiting for her. Slowly, his hand stroked her back.

‘Mark, don’t.’ She disengaged herself. ‘I have to go. Sorry.’

The ball ended just after midnight. ‘Sure you want to stay overnight?’ repeated Jeff. ‘I could easily drive you back.’

‘I’ve booked a room so I can do some early Christmas shopping in town tomorrow morning. Georgie’s on a sleepover so I thought it would be a good excuse. It was lovely of you to be here with me tonight.’

‘It was lovely of you to ask me.’ He bent forwards to kiss her cheek. ‘Take care. I’ll call next week.’

She went up the stairs past the framed Monet prints and along the cream corridor and into her room. Strange to be on her own in a hotel without Roger. Ironic that the noise at home drove her mad, but when she was away she missed it. She lay down on the double bed, still in her dress. She’d wanted to stay with Mark but it had been too weird with Jeff watching.

Her mobile rang.

‘Mum?’

‘Annabel!’

‘I rang home and Ben said you were at some ball.’ She sounded suspicious. ‘Why isn’t Dad there?’

‘He’s at a conference –’ Caroline forced herself to speak evenly and reassuringly ‘– and I had to be here for work. But what about you? Is everything all right?’

‘Fine. Look, I can’t be long because I’ve run out of credit and I’m using a friend’s mobile. Just to say I’ll be at Auntie Janie’s next week. We’re having an extra week in Queensland.’

‘Are you having a good time?’

‘Brilliant.’

‘Be safe, Bella.’

‘I will. Love you. Must go. ’Bye.’

She’d gone. There had been so many questions Caroline had wanted to ask. The phone rang by the bed. Annabel again?

‘Hello?’

‘Are you still awake?’

She moistened her lips. ‘Very much so.’

‘Look, I’m sorry but I saw you going into your room. I’m staying over too and I wondered if you wanted a nightcap. Are you still dressed?’

‘Yes. Sorry. I’m a bit disoriented. My daughter’s just rung from Australia.’

‘That must have been reassuring.’

‘It was.’

‘Look, don’t worry about the drink—’

‘I’d like one.’ The words were out of her mouth before she could snatch them back. ‘I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep for a bit now, after hearing Annabel’s voice. I’d love to go to the bar.’

‘It’s closed, but I’ll come to you, if you like.’

He put down the phone before she could demur. Seconds later there was a knock at the door.

‘Hi.’ He smiled. A boyish smile.

‘Night, Caroline!’ Startled, she saw Ginny going past with her husband, clearly surprised to see Mark at her door. ‘Maybe see you for breakfast tomorrow?’ called Ginny.

‘Probably,’ said Caroline, flushing. When the couple were out of sight, she let him in. ‘How embarrassing,’ she said. ‘Someone I play tennis with. Now she’ll think the wrong thing.’

‘Not necessarily.’ Mark’s bow-tie was askew and he didn’t have his jacket on.

Awkwardly, she moved away to put the kettle on. ‘There are some hot-chocolate sachets, or would you prefer something from the mini bar?’

He was standing close behind her – so close that she could feel the heat from his body. ‘I don’t want a drink, Caroline.’

Turn round and you’re lost.

Roger had done this. So why shouldn’t she?

Don’t turn round
.

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