Love Rules (39 page)

‘God, you're gracious,’ Alice marvelled.

‘You know, they used to call prostitutes “erring sisters”. And actually, I did feel a sense of kinship – I don't know – collusion? She's
not
my enemy, she's a girl,’ Thea shrugged, ‘doing a job there's a demand for.’

‘God, I think you're brave and amazing,’ Alice said with great tenderness and pride. ‘I wonder where this forest is?’

‘I don't know,’ Thea said. ‘She's oriental so I suppose it's in Thailand or somewhere.’

Alice nodded. Then she stared at Thea. Though she sucked in her lips, she was helpless to prevent an almighty snort of laughter. She bit her bottom lip hard but she knew she was moments away from an uncontrollable fit of giggles.

‘What?’ Thea asked, confusion making her eyebrows stutter.

‘Thea,’ Alice squeaked, ‘the
forest
?’

‘Yes?’

‘Do you think she might have been saying “Far East”?’

Thea frowned. Then she groaned. Then she covered her face with her hands while Alice pronounced ‘forest’ again and again in a mish-mash Malaysian accent. Soon enough, Thea tried it. Far East. Far East, of course!

‘Oh God,’ Thea didn't know whether to laugh or cringe, ‘oh God. What a day. I'm going mad.’

‘Oh God, what a day,’ Mark said to himself as he walked around the golf expo aimlessly and with no interest. It seemed the most sensible place to go, in the circumstances. He didn't want to pace around and around the block. He wasn't in the habit of sitting by himself in bars, let alone drowning his sorrows. So he meandered through the stalls and stands with Paul B's text messages leaping out at him wherever he looked. ‘There must be some mistake,’ he repeated as a whispered chant, ‘there must be an explanation.’

Alice wouldn't do that to me. Alice wouldn't do that to me. Alice wouldn't do that to me.

‘Mark! Hullo, mate.’

Mark looked up and saw Saul. ‘Saul,’ Mark shook his hand, ‘I didn't realize you were coming. Were we meant to meet?’

‘I only decided at the last minute,’ Saul assured him. ‘I
had nothing else planned. And it's sort of en route to Thea's – I'm going to pop by later and see if I can help with the packing.’

‘Oh, sure,’ said Mark, ‘she's at ours, having a chick-flick comfort-food evening with Alice.’

While Saul was struck by the fact that Thea had lied to him about how she was spending her evening, Mark suddenly wondered if Thea knew Paul B. And if Thea knew, then did Saul too?

‘Seen anything you fancy?’ Saul asked.

‘Fancy?’ Mark barked with a deep frown.

Saul regarded him quizzically. ‘New balls?’

‘New balls?’ Mark snorted with derision. He pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed the corners of his eyes.

‘Are you OK, Mark?’ Saul asked. ‘Are you all right?’

‘Fuck knows,’ Mark replied hoarsely. Saul reeled from the response. He'd never heard Mark swear, he'd never known him to be anything but composed and always all right. He was thoroughly taken aback.

‘Come on, buddy,’ Saul said with a hand on Mark's neck, ‘let's get a drink.’

Saul didn't think spirits were Mark's thing yet he watched as he downed two neat vodkas in as many gulps. ‘I think Alice is having an affair,’ Mark announced, his voice rasping from the scorch of alcohol.

Saul was startled. ‘
Alice
?’

‘You see her,’ Mark said, ‘what do you think?’

‘She's never given me any reason to think she's having an affair,’ Saul declared. She hadn't. Nor had Thea.

‘Look, I don't want you to feel compromised,’ Mark said, ‘but has Thea mentioned
anything
to you?’

‘Not a sausage,’ said Saul, attempting to discredit Mark's suspicion by making light of it. ‘And she tells me everything.’

Does she, Saul? Are you sure about that?

Mark sunk his head into his hands. ‘I don't know,’ he said, ‘I don't know.’

‘What
do
you know, exactly?’ Saul probed.

‘She can be pretty moody,’ Mark said.

‘Yes, but all women can be,’ Saul pointed out. ‘Alice is naturally slightly highly strung,’ Saul countered. ‘The fact that she's spirited makes her attractive.’

‘She can be a flirt,’ Mark stated. ‘I've known her for years, remember.’

‘There's flirting,’ Saul reasoned, ‘and there's putting your money where your mouth is.’

There speaks an expert. Except you don't flirt, do you, Saul, you don't really have to. Your girls are a sure thing. We know where you put your money and we don't really want to know where you put your mouth.

‘I swear to you, Mark,’ Saul said, placing both hands flat on the table for emphasis, ‘I've never seen even a
hint
of anything untoward – and I've been around her at work
and
play, remember.’

Mark nodded but Saul could see he remained unconvinced. ‘I found something,’ Mark said darkly. ‘Her phone. I found a text message from someone called Paul B.’ Saul could only listen – the image of Mark covertly burglarizing his wife's telephone was so atypical as to be frankly disturbing. ‘Who's Paul B?’

‘Paul B?’ Saul thought hard. ‘Honestly, Mark, I have no idea. There's no Paul B on the mags that I know. I've never heard Thea mention such a person. Look, can I ask what the message said?’

‘Oh, you know,’ said Mark with cutting lightness, ‘the usual – fancy a fuck, great tits, when can I see you.’

Saul was stunned. And a private part of him wanted to phone Alice immediately and accuse her of hypocrisy of the highest degree, declare her misdemeanour a crime far worse than his.

‘What drove you to read them?’ Saul asked. ‘Have you been going through a bad patch?’

‘Not really. I mean, I'm used to her blowing hot and cold – she always has done and I've loved her for years. As you say, she can fly off the handle and she can be moody. It was a bit rocky a few months ago but actually, recently, it's been quite nice and even.’

‘I'm sure there's an innocent explanation,’ said Saul, though he wasn't so sure and was keen to know more.

‘I mean, we've been through much stickier periods – when I've been abroad a lot or working crazy hours,’ Mark continued, ‘but I've cut down a lot on the travelling – and I'm delegating more now I have a wider team.’

‘I'm sure it's not what you think,’ Saul said, because though he'd now quite like to doubt Alice, he liked Mark and felt he didn't deserve this angst, however unfounded.

‘Do I turn a blind eye?’ Mark said, asking himself more than Saul. ‘Even if evidence to the contrary is staring me in the face?’

‘You know what,’ said Saul, ‘it's far easier to flirt in emails and texts than face to face. Maybe it's some bloke at the printers or in distribution that Alice keeps sweet. I'm sure it's harmless.’

‘How do I find out?’

Saul was stuck. ‘I don't think you should go looking for answers unless you can ask the questions directly,’ he said after much thought. ‘Can you ask her to her face? Will her trust be undermined that you've been searching through her things?’

‘I don't know,’ Mark shook his head, ‘I just don't know what to think or what to do.’

‘Listen,’ Saul said, ‘it's not as if the messages said “great fuck” or “thanks for showing me your boobs”. There's no
real
evidence, Mark. You work with numbers, Alice works
with words. I assure you our industry is full of boozing, flirting reprobates – and that's the blokes!’

‘And my industry is full of strait-laced boring fucks like me,’ Mark declared morosely.

If we were girls
, Saul thought to himself,
we'd be giving each other a hug at this point. If this was Thea and Alice, they'd be holding hands, their heads together, physically backing up the emotional support.

Suddenly, Saul thought how much he loved witnessing Thea and Alice's friendship, the intensity of their relationship even when they bickered or, as recently, fell out. Was this Paul B the reason why they fell out? Possibly. Saul thought of Thea's proud-held standards on fidelity and loyalty and what love meant and required. He felt hollow and desolate. He was going to lose her.

‘I'd better go,’ said Mark. ‘Thanks for the drink – and the, you know.’

‘Any time, mate, any time,’ Saul said earnestly. ‘How about one for the road?’ He didn't want Mark to go. Mark's quandary was a distraction from his own predicament. Mark, however, declined. ‘Listen – don't delve,’ Saul advised. ‘It won't get you anywhere but the wrong end of the stick.’

Mark nodded and left.

When he returns, Mark finds Alice and Thea snuggled up on the sofa, wineglasses drained and a monster-sized packet of Kettle Chips empty.

‘Hullo!’ Alice greets him with an expansive smile though Thea seems almost too exhausted to even look up.

‘Hiya,’ he says.

‘Have you had a nice evening?’ Alice asks. ‘Were there some gloriously naff golfing trousers to buy?’

‘Plenty,’ Mark says, ‘but none in my size.’ Alice laughs. Mark analyses it and deduces it to be genuine. It makes him
feel confused. ‘I'm going to turn in,’ he tells them because he wants to see if Alice's phone is still lying under his shirt just up the stairs.

‘Thea's going to crash in the spare room tonight,’ Alice calls after him.

His shirt is where he left it. Alice's phone is where he'd put it. Keeping an ear on the sounds of life downstairs, Mark takes the phone and scrolls to the envelope icon. He selects her Inbox again and rereads the messages. Perhaps Saul is right – there's nothing that unequivocally confirms anything has actually happened. He scrolls to Sent Items, his heart thudding so loudly it almost drowns out the sound of Alice and Thea chatting. His thumb hovers. This is not right. This is like sneaking a read of a diary. This is not the thing to do. But to Mark it seems like his only option. He has to. And he makes a pact with himself that he must deal with what he might find. He presses the Select button and Alice's sent messages flash up. Thea Thea Mark Thea Mark Thea Paul B Paul B Thea. He can't open them fast enough, his hands are shaking.

no Paul – not poss. pls, pls undstnd

Another.

cant – sorry. Ax ps: no more txts etc PLEASE

He scrolls back to Paul's messages and from the times and dates of these he can equate Alice's answers. He asked to see her. She said she can't. She's asked him not to contact her – even by text. She's adamant – see, PLEASE is in upper case. There are five from him but only two from her. He was the instigator. Both her replies are rejections. There is no reply to his fancy-a-fuck message, no response to his compliments of her breasts.

She hasn't dignified his advances with replies!

Mark is so relieved he could almost cry. And once he's
read Paul's messages and Alice's a final time, he feels desperately guilty.

What was I thinking? How could I! I'm married to the most beautiful woman on earth – of course men will be falling in love with her, left, right and centre. Of course they're going to try it on. But see – she's my wife, her home and her heart are with me. I can't believe I pillaged her privacy. I can't believe I doubted her. What was I thinking?

Saul has sent Thea a text message to say he's been at some golf thing in Islington and he might as well take a bit of a detour and just pop by for five minutes. He is desperate to see her, even if it all comes out. He misses her terribly and is so anguished by the pain she must be feeling that he needs to hold her despite being the unwitting perpetrator. He must be capable of making things better, he must be able to make amends – surely? He wants to hold her even if she hits him. He's willing to proclaim the purity of his love for her even if she hurls hatred back at him and finishes the relationship there and then.

But he's walking down her street, checking his phone and she still hasn't responded. She must be back from Alice's by now. She must have loads to do. He so wants to see her. He rings the bell, knocks and then uses his set of keys to enter. He's always done so. Thea's always been at ease with it. Always welcomed him with a kiss, chatter and the flick of the kettle button. But she's not here. He can't even see the kettle. Just boxes and crates and piles of belongings. It's crowded and messy but it's stark and impersonal. Thea really isn't here. She's packed her life up. She's moving on.

Cold Feet

What do we want most? Alice to be punished though she's already walking with conviction along the road to her marriage's salvation? Shall we have Mark remain content, safely just beyond the reach of hard facts? Do we want Saul to suffer – to atone, to learn, but be damned? Do we think that Thea might be able to put it into some perspective of sorts, better still could she put it into a box labelled The Past and discard it? Is it possible that she could accept, understand, forgive and move forward positively into their long-planned and potentially sparkling joint future? Or are we rooting for Thea to deliver the ultimate scathing soliloquy as she dumps him? Do we want her to destroy him? Do we feel Saul deserves that? Do we want to see Saul foundering in the gutter, weeping and broken, while Thea waltzes away triumphant but with dignity? What is appropriate comeuppance for Saul – and what reward would be appropriate for Thea? Should Saul be allowed to confront Alice and declare a pot-kettle-black situation? Is it deluded to hope for happy-ever-afters all round? Is it right that Alice could get away with it? Are we ready to consider that Saul and Thea might need to have futures without one another?

Thea has already phoned the Being Well to see if her nine-or ten-o'clock slots have been filled since last night. Souki confirms they're still empty.

‘I'll be in later, then,’ says Thea. ‘I have things to finish.’

She's already phoned Saul to say the words he's been dreading but anticipating.

‘Saul? It's me. Are you back now? From Glasgow? Good. Are you busy? Oh. But I need to see you. We need to talk.’

She phoned from the bus as it approached Tufnell Park. Saul estimates she'll arrive in twenty minutes. He paces his flat, he's choked. The wait is unbearable though he dreads her arrival. What will you do, Saul?