Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
The time to be polite was well past. Ellen grabbed a kitchen towel to wipe her hands. ‘I’m going to speak to Robert.’
Lucy jolted her attention away from watching at her daughter. ‘He’s fine with Charlotte. Let’s get this in the oven and then maybe we can sneak in a glass of something before we join the others.’
That’s what all this had been about, hadn’t it? Lucy had been making sure that Ellen saw – and heard – just enough to make her suspicious. The whole reason they were here was for her to catch Robert and Charlotte. Hurt and angry, Ellen wanted to hear her admit it. ‘Why did you invite us this week?’
Lucy’s eyes widened at her tone. ‘Because I imagined it would be nice to catch up. We haven’t seen each other in close to thirty years.’
She thought she was so clever. Just as she had all those years ago when she’d tried to pull Ellen away from Robert. ‘We could have met for a coffee. Chatted over the phone. But you invited us, both of us, to join you here and then Charlotte just happens to show up unannounced.’
Lucy frowned. ‘I live here. This is where I am and I thought you’d like to come out. When I spoke to you, you said you needed a holiday. Judging by the way you’ve been behaving, I think you were right.’
Ellen almost laughed. The way she had been behaving? ‘I don’t have time for this. I’m going to speak to Robert.’
But, again, she was beaten. In those few moments between Charlotte stepping outside and her argument with Lucy, Robert had disappeared. Now Charlotte stood alone at the barrier, looking at her phone rather than the beautiful view in front of her.
As she approached, Charlotte looked up and smiled. ‘Robert has gone for a walk.’
Another one? And why would he leave without telling her? ‘Sorry? He’s gone?’
‘He said he had a headache and wanted to walk to clear it.’
This was getting ridiculous. ‘Which way did he go?’
She at least had the decency to look a little guilty. ‘I’m not sure. Maybe the beach? He’ll probably be back shortly. He knows that you’re preparing dinner.’
Ellen couldn’t give two hoots what this girl did or didn’t know about her husband. ‘I’m going to find him.’
As she turned to leave, her sandals squeaked on the polished floor and the left one slipped from her foot. The was no way she could catch up with Robert in these. Without bothering to speak to Lucy as she passed, she hurried to change them.
In the bedroom, Ellen pulled off her sandals and dropped heavily onto the bed.
Bending over her knees, she tried to jam her feet into her tennis shoes without bothering to untie the laces.
She felt sick. With fear, with shock, with disgust. She wanted anything to be true but this.
But there was no other explanation that made sense.
But this didn’t make sense either. This was Robert . Her Robert. Their marriage wasn’t perfect – who’s is? – and maybe they had taken each other for granted, got stuck in a rut, but an affair ? Never in a million years would she have seen this coming. How could he do this to her? To their family?
Beside her on the bed, her phone buzzed and she snatched it up in the hope it was Robert. Her heart sank as she saw it was Grace. ‘Hi, love. I’m just getting my shoes on to catch up with your dad. Is this urgent or can I call you back?’
‘It’s not urgent. It’s just about Max. And his kids.’
Ellen had to put her fist in her mouth to stop the groan she felt about to come.
This was quite possibly the worst moment in the whole history of time for her daughter to be asking her about her waste-of-space boyfriend and his children.
‘Sweetheart, I need to catch your dad up. Can I call you back in an hour or so?’
‘Can’t you talk to me while you walk?’
There was no getting away with it. ‘Yes, I can. Hold on, I’ll put you on speaker while I sort out my shoes.’
Grace barely took a breath. ‘Okay. Well, the thing is, Max and I have been together for over a year now so it’s weird that I still haven’t met his kids. Do you think it’s weird?’
Ellen’s feet must’ve swelled in the heat because she couldn’t ram her right foot into its shoe, she’d have to undo the laces. ‘Well, do you want to meet his children?’
This time, Grace sounded less certain. ‘It’s not that I particularly want to meet them. To be honest, it would be a little weird seeing him in Dad-Mode. But it makes me question how serious he is about us. I mean, shouldn’t he be keen for me to meet his kids?’
The laces in Ellen’s trainers were as tight as her chest. Trying to loosen them, she bent back her fingernail. Dammit. ‘Have you asked him?’
Much as she wanted to have this conversation and was pleased that Grace wanted to talk to her about it all, Ellen was desperate to go after Robert.
The longer this went on, the more likely he’d be difficult to find.
From her shopping trip with Lucy, she knew that there were so many side streets in the sprawling Malaga town that she’d never find him if he got too far.
‘No, he never wants to talk about his family.’
She couldn’t do this. The pain in her fingernail, the stupid damn laces, the desperation to confront Robert, the fear that her marriage was over…
she erupted with the force of a long-dormant volcano.
‘Grace, for goodness’ sake, think about it!
He changes plans at the last minute. He doesn’t want you to meet his children.
He says his wife is making the divorce difficult. Why can’t you see what’s going on?’
Grace’s voice was cold. ‘What are you saying?’
Finally, the laces were loose enough for her to pull the shoe onto her foot.
She snatched up the phone from the bed and turned off the speaker.
‘He’s obviously still married, Grace. He’s telling you he’s getting divorced to keep you interested but he isn’t bringing you into his life at all. He’s lying to you.’
Grace huffed like a petulant child. ‘You don’t even know him. He wouldn’t lie.’
Ellen wanted to scream. ‘Exactly! We don’t know him because the two times you arranged for us to go out for dinner he had to mysteriously cancel. Isn’t that convenient?’
The anger was bubbling out of her like molten lava.
Somewhere in the back of her rational mind she knew that this wasn’t all to do with Grace and Max.
It was about Charlotte and Robert. How could her husband be the Max in this situation?
How could her daughter – however unwittingly – be doing to someone else’s family what Charlotte was doing to theirs?
‘The first time he had to cancel because of a work trip and the second time because his kids were sick. You can’t hold that against him. Dad would’ve done that if it was us and you were dealing with me and Abbie throwing up everywhere.’
Ellen closed her eyes. She was right, Robert would’ve cancelled to be at home and help out.
Had done on more than one occasion when she’d called him to say he was needed.
But she wasn’t sure that Robert was the best comparison for Grace to be using right now.
And with that thought, another surge of anger carried the words from her mouth.
‘Wake up, Grace! You’re dating a married man. You’re his…mistress.’
Though the word was archaic and conjured images of a mini-series from the eighties with women in thick make-up and shoulder pads, she knew the impact it would have on her kind and well-meaning, if naive, daughter. She wanted the weight of it to shock her, make her see sense.
That daughter was now as angry as she was. ‘I can’t believe you’re being so horrible about him. This is why I don’t call you for advice!’
And she hung up.
Ordinarily, Ellen would take a deep breath, give it ten minutes and call her back. But – for once – Grace was going to have to figure this out for herself. Ellen had other things on her mind right now than her daughter’s love life. She needed to go.
Back in the kitchen, Lucy was still preparing food as if the whole world wasn’t falling around their ears.
Charlotte was helping her and the sight of this domestic harmony brought a violence to Ellen’s body that she’d never experienced.
But she wasn’t about to get into anything with the two of them until she’d spoken to her husband.
She fought to keep her voice calm and cold.
‘I’m going to see if I can catch up with Robert. ’
Lucy glanced at Charlotte as if to prevent her from speaking. ‘Of course. I’ll call you if he gets back here before you do.’
That was the very least they could do. Wasn’t this all their fault?
Ellen’s phone beeped in her hand. Damn. The battery was low.
There was a battery pack in the bedroom.
This was starting to feel like a nightmare where everything conspired to keep her in this house.
Keep her from her husband. Without saying goodbye, she returned to their room to get it.
She wanted to scream with frustration when she found that the battery pack was no longer charging beside the dressing table. Had Robert taken it? Where was it?
Knocking her shin on the corner of the wooden bed as she almost flew to the other side of the room, she swore aloud.
Either side of the bed, each of the heavy cherrywood tables had a deep drawer and she yanked Robert’s open.
A faint draught of his aftershave spilled from his belongings and took her breath.
Underneath the book he had barely touched since the flight, she could see the corner of the rectangular black portable battery.
As she snatched it up, it revealed something else. A spiral bound notebook that she hadn’t seen before. With its cover folded back, she could see at a glance what looked like a letter in Robert’s handwriting. It was unfinished. And it began Dear Ellen.