The Mistress's Revenge (38 page)

I don’t know how I shall feel if Sian moves in there with them all. I like to think I will just bite my lip and accept that’s how things are, comfort myself with the thought that this is something else to flog myself with, but I’m not completely sure. In the end it’s the pain of being replaceable that turns out to be the hardest to bear. How did that never occur to us, you and I? How did we never take the time to imagine how Susan and Daniel would feel at being so easily usurped? It seems that to all our other crimes we must also add a failure of imagination.

The good news is that Tilly and Jamie are both coming to spend a week with me in a fortnight’s time to celebrate my dad’s eightieth birthday, which is a major milestone. Of course Tilly will declare herself “bored to death” the second she steps through the door, but I’ll try not to take that personally either. Baby steps as Helen Bunion used to say.

Daniel hasn’t read The Mistress’s Revenge. I told him not to, and I think he was quite relieved. “It’s pure fiction,” I lied. “But I wouldn’t like you to be always wondering.”

Susan read it though. When she came to see me she told me, in a brittle, most un-Susanlike voice, it had been “enlightening.” I couldn’t meet her eyes when she said that. Instead I focused on her hands, on the obscene band of translucent white flesh where, for twenty-six years, her wedding and engagement rings had been. I couldn’t help wondering whether, when you look down at Anna’s smooth, perfectly manicured thirty-something-year-old hands gripping onto yours, you ever feel the loss of Susan’s. Do you suppose hands can mold themselves to one another’s shape over the course of a long marriage, so that anything else feels ill-fitting and uncomfortable, like new wedding shoes?

Forgive me, I’m rambling I know.

From my position lying here on my side, I can see a pile of copies of my book on the floor, waiting to be signed—a monument to our own towering hubris, yours and mine.

There’s another reading and signing session tomorrow—a different venue, but no doubt the same questions. I find myself wondering if I have the energy to go through it all again.

At today’s event, I was surprised when, after the question about your prison sentence (“Mr. Gooding’s family has asked for privacy at this difficult time and I respect their wishes” was my predictable response), my publicist, who was sitting next to me, invited more questions and the gum-chewing woman stood up.

“Some people might say you were cashing in on other people’s misery,” she said in a flat, disengaged voice. “Don’t you have any regrets about what’s happened?”

That’s an interesting question, isn’t it, Clive? The question of regrets?

For your part I’m sure you must have many. (By the way, I’m sorry things have been so difficult for you financially. The court case can’t have been cheap, and who’d have thought Susan really would follow through on her threat of taking you to the cleaners? It just goes to show, you never really know someone, do you?)

But the question of my regrets is less straightforward.

Do I regret meeting you, for instance?

You’d think that would be an easy one, wouldn’t you, after everything that happened, everything that was lost? And yet somehow it isn’t.

If I had never met you, I would never have known the feelings I was capable of. It sounds like a cliché, but I believe that to truly know love, even the grotesque parody of love that ours turned into, one has first to know the withdrawal of love. Love, like happiness, is only fully experienced in retrospect.

When I look back on the woman who hovered in the doorway of that hospital room, staring at that baby (although I don’t like to think about the baby), she seems like someone else. And yet at the same time I know that she is still lodged somewhere inside me (as are you, Clive—in a nonsexual way naturally). She is just—oh, what’s the oncological term?—in remission.

Did I ever tell you I once worked with a woman who went into hospital suffering from a mysterious abdominal pain only to find she had been carrying in a cyst within her all her life the remains of her own unborn twin—fragments of bone, teeth, even hair—absorbed into her while still inside the womb? Well, in a weird way, that’s how I think of that other Sally. Disappeared, but still intrinsically present.

In the end—and please forgive the philosophizing, it’s late and I really have nothing better to do, and neither, for that matter, do you I suspect—we’re all just a series of consequent selves. Once I might have found that notion depressing, a grinding cycle of repeated patterns and retold stories. But now I actually find it quite reassuring, because surely along with the baggage, each new self also brings a new possibility of redemption, no matter how remote, just the same as each new day brings a new chance to make amends? I’m sorry, does that sound too Chicken Soup for the Soul for you? I’m hoping maybe your time in prison might soften you and help you reach the same conclusions. You’ll find it comforting I think. And we must take our comfort where we can.

I would write to the prison to tell you all this directly, Clive—I’m aware how much you will come to depend on receiving mail during the long, empty months ahead (strange, isn’t it, to think of going back to handwritten letters after all those thousands, tens of thousands, of
emails?). But in the end I don’t know who it would really be helping for us to be back in contact. That’s why I never replied to that note you sent me after you first read my book, although I want you to know it isn’t because I hold anything against you. You were under pressure. I know what that’s like. You made an error of judgment that’s all.

I’m flattered, of course, about all the nice things you wrote in that note, and I’ve thought a lot about what you said about us trying again. But really, what good would it do? You have your Anna now (be careful what you wish for). I certainly wouldn’t want to come between the two of you. Of course, I do see how some of the things I wrote in the book might have given you the wrong idea—all that mawkish sentiment, those outpourings of love, I’m embarrassed about it now. I really am. But I want you to know, Clive, I never said anything I didn’t mean. At the time.

In the end though, if I’ve learned anything from this at all, it’s that life goes on, and we must move on too.

Separately.

Acknowledgments

T
he publication of this novel is the culmination of a long-held dream, and I’d like to thank everyone who made it possible: Bridget Freer and Viv Schuster, whose generous encouragement kick-started the process; my clever and far-too-glamorous agent, Felicity Blunt, and my lovely UK editor, Marianne Velmans, who have given invaluable suggestions; also Deborah Schneider and all at Free Press who have supported the book in America. For their constructive (if grossly biased) reading, a big thank-you to my wonderful friends Rikki Finegold and Mel Amos; and for putting up with me for the last few preoccupied months, my long-suffering family—Michael, Otis, Jake, and Billie. Lastly, I’d like to thank my mum, Gaynor, and my late father, Abner, who loved books and who did me the huge favor of passing that love on to me.

About the Author

Tamar Cohen is a freelance journalist and lives in London with her partner and three teenage children. The Mistress’s Revenge is her first novel.

The
Mistress’s
Revenge

A Novel

Tamar Cohen

Reading Group Guide Author Q&A

ABOUT THIS GUIDE

The following reading group guide and author interview are intended to help you find interesting and rewarding approaches to your reading of The Mistress’s Revenge. We hope this enhances your enjoyment and appreciation of the book. For a complete listing of reading group guides from Simon & Schuster, visit
http://community.simonandschuster.com
.

INTRODUCTION

When her affair with the sexy, successful, and happily married music mogul Clive Gooding unceremoniously ends, Sally Islip decides to take matters into her own hands. Her partner, Daniel; their two young children; and her once-promising career in magazine journalism can’t quite compare to Clive’s burgeoning triumphs in the music business, his St. John’s Wood home, and his picture-perfect family. Sally’s romance with Clive unspools in her recollections of their collaborations, their intimacies, their secrets and lies. When Clive wins a prestigious music award and plans to renew his wedding vows, Sally decides that he must suffer for dumping her. And she’ll stop at nothing, including befriending his devoted wife and his newly pregnant daughter, to get back at him.

TOPICS AND QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

1. How does Sally feel about her therapist’s advice to chronicle her feelings about the end of her affair with Clive? To what extent does The Mistress’s Revenge feel like a private journal? Who do you think is its intended audience? What does it reveal about Sally’s emotional state?

2. Sally scornfully writes: “you . . . in . . . your detached, pale pink St. John’s Wood villa . . . me . . . in my partitioned cubbyhole in my shabby three-bed terrace” (p. 2). How do differences in wealth, professional reputation, and social status play out in Sally’s relationship with Clive? What role does Sally’s envy of Clive’s wealth factor into her anger with him for breaking up with her?

3. Do you think Sally’s best friend, Sian, enabled Sally’s affair with Clive? What does the progress of Sian’s relationship with Daniel, Sally’s husband, reveal about her character? Why doesn’t Sally seem to feel a greater sense of betrayal toward Sian than she does?

4. How do Jamie and Tilly experience their mother’s absorption in her failed affair with Clive? In what ways do they voice their feelings to Sally? How does Sally’s seeming disinterest in her own children’s lives relate to her obsessive attention to the lives of Clive’s offspring?

5. “How did it feel, I wonder . . . listening to your wife chat away to your mistress? Oops, I mean ex-mistress of course. I can’t imagine it was terribly comfortable, although I’m sure you carried it off with your usual insouciance” (p. 11). Why does Sally seek deeper connections with Clive’s family in the aftermath of their breakup? Is it safe to describe Sally as a sadist? To what extent might she be justified for her emotional cruelty?

6. Do you feel that Clive’s wife, Susan, suspected Sally of being the other woman all along? If so, what gives you that inclination?

7. “So strange now to think that for years our friends saw Daniel and me as the poster couple for a healthy relationship” (p. 23). How would you characterize Sally’s relationship with Daniel? Why isn’t Daniel more assertive about mending their relationship when Sally seems so emotionally disconnected from him? Does the fact that Sally and Daniel aren’t legally married allow Sally to feel less guilt about cheating on Daniel? In what other ways does Sally try to justify her actions?

8. How does Sally’s publication of her “End of the Affair Diary,” in the Mail, take her vengeful behavior to a new level? What about befriending Clive’s wife and daughter? Why doesn’t the threat of exposure really concern her? To what extent does Sally feel that she has nothing to lose?

9. To what extent is Sally an unreliable narrator? How does your questioning of Sally’s sanity affect your reading of The Mistress’s Revenge?

10. Sally’s cyberstalking of Clive and his family reveals the extent of her obsession. In your opinion, how do sites like Twitter and Facebook change the way we conduct relationships? Do you think this kind of cyberstalking is a natural outgrowth of social media?

11. What was Sally trying to prove when she has a one-night stand with Pete, the pub manager in Hoxton? To what extent does her sense of herself as a sexual being seem to be defined in terms of Clive’s appreciation of her? What role does her medication seem to play in her judgment and her behavior?

12. Why does Clive resort to blackmail and intimidation to achieve his desired separation from Sally? How does he manage to distance himself from these acts? Why doesn’t Sally seem to feel more threatened, particularly when her daughter is approached by one of Clive’s hired goons? What does Clive’s behavior reveal about his true character?

13. How does the domestic financial ruin that Sally ignores, while actively pursuing her revenge fantasies against Clive, finally bring her own situation with Daniel and the children into crisis? In light of the birth of Clive’s first grandchild, what does Sally mean when she threatens her ex-lover: “You will pay, Clive. You all will pay” (p. 236)? What terrible vengeance is Sally planning?

14. How did you feel about the resolution of Sally’s affair with Clive? Why do you think the author chose to end her novel with this outcome? How does the novel’s conclusion relate to the injustices Sally and Clive perpetuated one against the other over the course of the novel? Do you think justice was achieved? Why or why not?

ENHANCE YOUR BOOK CLUB

1. Share your best and worst relationship stories with your book club. Try asking: Have you ever been in a relationship that ended badly? Which side of the break-up were you on? How do you think about that time of your life now, and how do you feel about the person you were once involved with? If there is one moment from a failed relationship that you could take back, what would it be? What’s the craziest memento you’ve ever kept from a love affair or relationship? Do you think any of Sally’s actions were justifiable or understandable?

2. Write a letter or an email to an old lover in which you examine your feelings about your past relationship and explore any grievances you may still hold. You may want to treat your letter as an emotion journal, as Sally does in The Mistress’s Revenge. Would you ever consider sending your letter to your former beloved? Why or why not?

3. Do you have any revenge secrets or fantasies of your own? Have everyone in your group send some kind of relationship secret to [email protected]. You can see other revenge secrets by visiting
www.revengesecrets.tumblr.com
.

A CONVERSATION WITH TAMAR COHEN