Unfaithful (26 page)

He loved nothing more than being the centre of attention and he was in his absolute element this evening. Eventually, Mark stood to his feet and made a long speech where he talked about the history of M&R Photography and his inspiration for his photographs.

He then thanked Rebecca for all of her help and support over the years and even admitted that without her none of his hopes and dreams would have been possible. He kissed her on the cheek at the end of his speech and then she leaned into him and whispered that she'd like to say a few words of her own. Mark looked at her in surprise. It wasn't like Rebecca to make public speeches. She had a tendency to be quite reserved in large gatherings and he thought that making a speech to so many people would have been the last thing she would have wanted to do. He looked at her quizzically for a second, but then dismissed his questions from his mind, thinking that his wife was just getting swept along in the celebrations of the evening.

He helped her to her feet and announced “my darling wife, Rebecca, without whom none of this would have been possible, would like to say a little something.”

All eyes turned to Rebecca then. Her heart began to beat faster as she realised how many people were looking at her and only her. She could feel the familiar wave of panic start to rise within her but she steeled herself to carry on as she knew she must. She took a deep breath and smiled around the table.

“Good evening, everyone, I hope you are all enjoying yourselves,” she said.

There was a mumble of gratitude and a few raised glasses. How she wished in that moment that she wasn't pregnant and could have had a glass of champagne to steady her addled nerves. She cleared her throat and continued. She offered her congratulations to her husband and thanked everyone for attending. Then she talked about the business and how much it meant to her and Mark. Everyone looked at her kindly, sipping their champagne and smiling. Finally the end arrived and the part of the speech that Rebecca had practiced over and over was about to be delivered.

“I would like everyone to get to their feet and raise their glasses in a toast to my beloved husband.”  Rebecca turned towards her husband. There was a scuffle as everyone pushed back their chairs and scrambled to their feet. They raised their glasses in unison.

“A toast,” Rebecca said, “to my husband and his wonderful mistresses, Penelope and Shona, without them this evening would not have been possible.”

There was a loud collective gasp as Rebecca dropped her bombshell. Mark's face went deathly white and he fixed a gaze of pure and utter hatred on Rebecca that literally made her shudder. She could see that he was desperately thinking of something to say that could possibly salvage the situation.

“Rebecca, darling, you're not feeling very well,” was all he could stutter. “She's been experiencing terrible mood swings recently. We had a disagreement before we came here this evening.” His voice trailed off as he surveyed the aghast faces that looked back at him in contempt and disgust.

“Rebecca is perfectly correct in what she's saying,” Penelope announced loudly from her place at the other end of the table. “Mark McNamara has been sleeping with Shona and me for almost a year.” She raised her chin in the air as all eyes turned to her. Shona looked like she wanted to hide under the table and she kept her gaze firmly fixed on her clasped hands.

Rebecca shot Penelope a look of gratitude. She had been afraid that the younger women wouldn't have been brave enough to go through with their plan, but they came up trumps for her in the end. Penelope went to stand beside Rebecca, almost dragging Shona behind her. She took Rebecca's hand saying, “Rebecca, we are both very sorry for hurting you so badly.” Rebecca nodded graciously and squeezed the other woman's hand encouragingly.

They turned to face Mark together. He looked at them blankly. Then he looked helplessly at his guests. Rebecca could see his whole life was flashing through his mind and for the briefest of moments she felt sorry for him.

“I, I...” he stuttered. “I'm so sorry,” he stumbled, before running clumsily from the room.

Chapter 32

Mark ran through the hotel foyer and stumbled outside into the cold night air. He ran down the magnificent drive of the hotel, as the guests looked after him in shock. He didn't know where he was going but he kept running anyway. He couldn't comprehend what had just happened in the banquet hall.
She's ruined me! She's ruined me
! He kept muttering to himself over and over again.
Backstabbing bitches!
His mind was racing. He ran blindly into the dark night. Several cars blew their horns at him as he stumbled into the road. Eventually, he slowed down, overcome by physical exertion.

His reputation was ruined beyond repair, he was certain. There was nothing he could say or do now to exonerate himself, even if he dared to deny everything that Rebecca had said at the exhibition, who would believe him instead of her; a heavily pregnant woman, especially when she confronted him with his two mistresses. He cringed as he recalled the horrified and disgusted faces of his friends as they'd stared at him. How he wished that it all had been a terrible nightmare from which he would awake at any minute.

He slowed his pace to a fast walk and was suddenly aware of the biting night air. He'd left the party in such a rush that he'd forgotten to take his coat and was outside in the freezing elements with just a light blazer jacket. He shivered and headed into a MacDonald's where he ordered a coffee and sat in a corner booth to try to gather his senses together.

What could he do? Was there any way that he could salvage the situation? Would Rebecca take him back somehow? He left MacDonald's late that night, knowing that he only had one option, and that was to beg Rebecca to give him one last chance. This was not a time for pride and he was willing to do anything. He got a taxi home and let himself in quietly through the back door. He poured himself a stiff drink and knocked it back in one go. He jumped when he heard Rebecca's voice behind him.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice dripping ice.

“How could you do that to me tonight?” Mark asked, pouring himself another drink. “You've ruined me! You've ruined our business. You've wrecked my reputation. How could you humiliate me like that; in front of all our friends and clients?”

Rebecca looked at her husband incredulously. “I humiliated you?!” she shouted at him. “I've ruined you! What about everything you've done to me?”

Mark had the good grace to look ashamed then.

“You've destroyed our marriage. You've humiliated me. I gave you a chance and you still couldn't be honest with me. You only admitted to sleeping with Shona because you'd figured out that I only knew about one of your mistresses. Well, it's amazing how your sneaky little secrets and lies were revealed in the end, isn't it Mark?!”

They stood there in stony silence, neither of them moving or looking at each other.

“So what do we do now?” Mark asked, sighing and pouring himself another whiskey. “Don't you think you've had enough?” Rebecca snapped at him, not answering his question.

“What do you care?” Mark shot back at her.

“I don't actually,” she retaliated.

“What now?” Mark demanded.

“Whatever, Mark!” Rebecca yelled. “Do whatever you want! I'm beyond caring anymore.” She stormed out of the kitchen and upstairs to bed. Mark went into the living room and spent the night on the couch, wondering how his life had reached such a low point.

Chapter 33

“The doctor will see you now, Mrs McNamara,” the receptionist beckoned for Rebecca to follow her. Rebecca followed the matronly looking receptionist as she walked the narrow corridor to the doctor's private consultation room. She tapped lightly on a heavy oak door and pushed it open. She smiled politely at Rebecca and walked briskly back down the foyer, her stilettoes clipping loudly on the wooden floors.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. McNamara, I'm Dr. Brianna Moynihan.”  The doctor held out her hand and firmly shook Rebecca's hand. Rebecca was surprised by the strength of the younger woman's handshake.

She believed that the strength of a handshake revealed a lot about a person. She felt that a strong handshake indicated sincerity. Weak handshakes were a pet peeve of hers. Rebecca was surprised by how young Dr. Moynihan seemed. Her strawberry blonde hair was ironed into a straight style, which hung around her face. She wore no makeup and her intelligent green eyes were framed by a pair of very unruly eyebrows. Her thick black spectacles gave her an air of authority but, somehow, Rebecca expected her to be older.

“I received a letter from your doctor last week referring you to me.” Dr. Moynihan looked at Rebecca kindly, “would you like to tell me what's wrong?”

Rebecca's eyes unexpectedly filled with tears and she desperately tried to swallow a lump in her throat.

“Take your time,” the doctor said gently, passing Rebecca a box of tissues.

Rebecca felt overwhelmed by the kindness in the younger woman's voice. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose loudly.

“It seems like you've been through quite a bit lately,” Dr. Moynihan prompted.

“Yes,” Rebecca gulped.

She told the doctor all about her unexpected pregnancy and her relationship with Mark. Dr. Moynihan listened carefully, scribbling notes in her diary at intervals. Rebecca felt anger and hatred building within her as she poured her heart out.

It was as if the floodgates had been opened. Years of pent up frustration were slowly being released. It was such a relief to be able to talk to someone about her thoughts, her feelings, her fears, her opinions. She hadn't realised how utterly desolate and alone she had felt for so very long.

Dr. Moynihan sat there and listened, really listened to her. Rebecca kept expecting her to stand up and order her out of the room, to yell at her that she was being too emotional and was blowing her problems out of proportion.

She expected her to scold her and tell her that she didn't know how lucky she was, that there were so many women in the world with so much less than her, women who struggled to put food on the table every day, women who lived in fear for their lives. All she had to worry about was her husband's indiscretions.

She felt overcome, but Dr. Moynihan listened intently to her every word. Rebecca knew she wasn't judging her. She believed that the other woman really wanted to hear her and wanted to help her. Eventually, Rebecca paused for breath. Dr. Moynihan sat back and smiled.

“How was your husband when you first met him?” she asked.

“Well, Mark was and still is a very attractive man,” Rebecca said thoughtfully, remembering back to the heady days of their early courtship. “I suppose it was his physical presence that initially attracted me to him; he's six feet four and an athletic build. He was incredibly charming and gallant. He was gregarious and very popular. He was head of the student's union at college and even now he's very active in Dublin's Chamber of Commerce. He seems to draw people to him quite easily. Those early days were amazing, he made me feel like I was the most beautiful and interesting woman in the world. He still has that effect on me, even now, when he chooses to turn on the charm. More than his charm and his good looks, he came across as being a traditionalist, a family-oriented man. Almost from the beginning of our relationship he was talking about us having a family. If he heard of anyone being unfaithful, even complete strangers he would get very angry.”

“How quickly did your relationship become serious?” Dr. Moynihan asked.

“Ours was a whirlwind romance,” Rebecca continued. “I know it sounds like a cliché, but he literally swept me right off my feet.We were engaged within six months of meeting, much to my parents' annoyance and we married straight after university.

“What would you consider to be your husband's flaws?” Dr. Moynihan asked, as she continued to take notes.

Rebecca paused. “Apart from the obvious?” she asked, a note of sarcasm creeping into her voice.

“Yes,” Dr. Moynihan replied, neutrally.

“This may seem petty, but he's always been meticulous about his appearance,” Rebecca said, “almost to the point of obsession. He would think nothing of going to a luxury boutique and spending hundreds on designer clothes. He once spent three hundred euro on a pen! I couldn't believe it when he showed it to me. We are comfortably well off now, but spending that much money on a pen was far too exorbitant.”

“Indeed,” Dr. Moynihan said.

“He also gets bored extremely easily,” Rebecca continued, “he can rarely sit still and just be. He has to be doing something all the time. He has a few hobbies. Running was a major obsession a few years ago. The enthusiasm he exhibited for running was almost unbearable. I was exhausted just listening to him planning his running routine. He ran several marathons, but then he just quit one day, completely unexpectedly and he's never run since.”

“Did he say why he suddenly stopped running?” Dr. Moynihan asked.

“No, he didn't explain really, he just said he didn't feel like it anymore. I suppose he burnt himself out.”

“How was your intimate relationship?” Dr. Moynihan asked, matter-of-factly. Rebecca coughed, suddenly feeling embarrassed about discussing such a personal part of her life.