Chapter 3
Back home, I get everything ready for dinner, then change into the copper sequin mini dress with a plunging neckline that Max bought me.
A client of his had invited us to a cocktail party, and by then Max had figured out that if he left me to my own devices, I’d show up in jeans and a T-shirt. So he took matters into his own hands.
He’s bought all my clothes ever since.
I check my reflection in the bedroom mirror. Max will be home from tennis soon, and I really hope he won, because he won’t be happy with me when he hears I’ve told Holly that she could be out until ten.
I put my hair up just the way he likes it, and do my makeup just the way he likes it, and wear the gold earrings he bought me.
All part of the plan.
Wait. What’s the plan again? Ah yes. I’m cooking a romantic dinner for two.
I’m actually a really bad cook, so I have planned a meal within my limitations: a pasta dish (fresh pasta – fancy) with a mushroom, pancetta and tomato sauce.
Even I couldn’t screw this one up. I don’t think.
I also bought a nice bottle of Chianti our local wine shop recommended.
I check my watch. Where is he anyway? Still playing tennis? He loves tennis.
Should I worry about that? Because shortly after we moved here, he started going to tennis every night after work. On the one hand, we barely see him, which is a relief, but still. It’s worrying.
It makes me wonder if it’s happening again. The affair.
Honestly, most women in my position would be cheering if their psycho husband was having an affair, but not me.
I almost lost Holly because of it. Or that’s what it felt like.
Max had an affair with a client at work.
When I found out – it was Holly, actually, who found a stupid love note in his office and showed it to me – I begged, pleaded for him to give up his lover and give us another chance.
I have no idea if he just wanted an affair on the side and stay married to me, or if he was going to leave me, but I couldn’t take the chance.
He liked me begging. I could tell. So I cried and pleaded, like I was the one who had to be forgiven.
And finally, he agreed. A fresh start, away from London.
Max’s company agreed to transfer him to Brookford so he could lead the branch here.
We uprooted our lives, bought a house (or he bought a house), found jobs, a new school for Holly, and honestly, I don’t know if I could go through all that again.
I’m just being stupid. We’ve only been in Brookford a couple of months. He couldn’t have met someone so soon, could he? Someone at work? Oh God, I hope not.
For goodness sake, Kate, get a grip. He’s playing tennis – not gallivanting with a client.
Then I hear the key in the lock, and my stomach gives a sharp twist. I quickly go to stand at the stove and stir the sauce.
‘Hey,’ he says, one hand on the doorjamb.
He is still in his tennis gear: white shorts, white polo shirt, white sneakers.
I always marvel at how normal Max looks for a psychopath.
He’s chiselled, well-groomed, takes care of himself and keeps fit.
He doesn’t smile often. Unless he’s in public, flirting with his coworkers or the ladies at the country club, in which case he’s all smiles.
‘Hey, you,’ I say back.
He slaps the doorjamb twice. That’s his thing, one of his little quirks. ‘I forgot something, didn’t I,’ he says. ‘Something important. Like your birthday.’
‘Of course not!’ I laugh. ‘I just thought, since Holly is out, that we might do something nice – you and me.’
He lets his tennis bag slide slowly down his shoulder and to the floor.
‘That’s nice.’ He cracks his neck. The first time I saw him crack his neck like that, I thought he was dying.
It’s the way his eyes roll into their sockets while he rotates his head slowly, like some kind of giant reptile, before pulling it to the side until it’s almost parallel to his shoulder. Crack!
He brushes his fingers through his hair. As usual, a chunk of it flops right back over his forehead. ‘I’m starving.’
‘Did you win?’ I ask.
‘I most certainly did. Poor Jonathan. He didn’t know what hit him. I guess I’d better get cleaned up,’ he says.
‘I guess you’d better.’
He slaps the doorjamb, twice, then picks up his bag and runs upstairs.
‘This is really nice, Kate,’ he says, frowning and wiping up the last of the sauce on his plate with a piece of bread. He’s slurring his words slightly. Let’s just say he enjoyed the wine. I’ll tell him that I should pick up Holly. That’s good. He might not even realise what time it is.
‘Thank you,’ I say.
‘And you look nice,’ he says. ‘I like your hair like that.’
‘Thank you. And you look nice, too,’ I reply. He’s wearing tailored chinos, a light-blue shirt and his white leather Tom Ford sneakers.
He checks his watch. He has to extend his arm to focus. God, he really has had too much to drink. Not that I could do anything about that, but it really does make me nervous.
‘As much as I’m enjoying myself here, it’s eight twenty. I should go and get Holly.’
My heart starts to race. So much for not realising what the time is. ‘Why?’ I pat my mouth with my napkin. Then, without looking at him, I say, ‘We said ten.’
He blinks at me. ‘Who said ten?’
‘I thought you did.’
He does it again, the cracking of his neck, the rolling of his eyes. ‘I said eight thirty, Kate.’
‘Oh, did you? That’s funny. I was sure you’d said ten. Anyway, that’s what I told her.’
Silence. His mouth does something odd, with his chin moving sideways. ‘Why would you do that?’
I try for a fake shrug. ‘I guess I misunderstood. Does it matter?’
He narrows his eyes at me. ‘Does it matter?’ He slams his hand on the table. The glasses shudder. I swallow. ‘Yes, it matters, Kate! What’s the matter with you?’
‘Come on, let’s not fight, Max. It’s Saturday night, she’s making new friends—’
He gives me a look, head to the side. ‘You know what your problem is, Kate?’
You’re too weak.
‘You’re too weak,’ he says.
‘I’m sorry. I misunderstood—’
‘Hey!’ He bangs the table again. Then he lays his hands flat and leans forward. ‘Do you take me for an idiot?’
‘No—’
‘Do I look like an idiot to you?’
‘Of course not,’ I whisper.
‘I said eight thirty, Kate,’ he slurs. ‘And when I say eight thirty, what does it mean?’
My body begins to shake. I sit on my hands. ‘Eight thirty.’
He leans forward even more and cups his hand over his ear. ‘Excuse me?’
‘Eight thirty,’ I say a little louder.
‘I really can’t hear you.’
‘Eight thirty!’ I shout.
He straightens up. ‘That’s right. Eight thirty means eight thirty. It’s not rocket science, is it? I won’t have my slut daughter running around the neighbourhood getting impregnated by some pimply kid just because you’re hard of hearing.’
‘She’s not doing that,’ I say.
‘Shut up, Kate. I’m going to get her.’ He stands, shoving his chair backwards.
God. What was I thinking? Did I really think I could stick on a short dress, make a rather average dinner and that Max would agree? What’s wrong with me?
‘Don’t, please! I told her she could stay until ten. It’s my fault.’
‘We’ve already established that.’
I run behind him down the corridor. He reaches for his jacket on the coat rack.
‘You’ll embarrass her in front of her friends.’ Then I add, ‘It will be a scene, you know that. What will people think?’
He stops and turns around. This is the only way to get to Max. Suggest that he may be embarrassing himself. My heart is pounding. He thinks about it for a moment, then hangs up his coat again and walks back down the short hall to the living room.
I let out a breath, then go and sit next to him on the sofa. I lean against him, my head on his shoulder. ‘I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry.’
He rubs his hands down his face. ‘I’m going to tell the office I can’t go to Zurich.’
My heart skips a beat. I raise my head. ‘Why?’
‘Because I can’t trust you with her. You’re too weak.’
Great. I wish I’d thought of that before I told Holly she could stay out late.
‘You can trust me.’ I put my hand on his knee. ‘But it would be nice if you stayed. I’d like that.’
He stares straight ahead but doesn’t reply.
‘They can find someone else to go to Zurich, can’t they? It’s not like you’re the only partner who can handle the problem.’
He looks at me like I’ve just told him the moon landing was faked. ‘But I’m the best.’
‘I know. But I’m sure there are other people who can handle Zurich.’
‘Actually, not really, no. It’s a very delicate situation, Kate. Billions of dollars are at stake. We’re talking one of the world’s largest financial institutions. And they have a crisis. A big one. That’s why they call me.’ He pokes his own chest. ‘I’m the fixer. I’m the best.’
I nod, like that makes total sense. Any minute now, I’m going to get a lecture on how good he is at it.
Of course, that is his actual job. He’s a senior partner at a management consultancy firm that specialises in risk assessments.
He works with some of the world’s largest companies to overhaul their operations and, sometimes, to fix problems before they become public.
The truth is, he wants to go. This is a big job for the company. There’s no way he’s going to let someone else fix whatever the crisis is and, especially, get the credit.
He narrows his eyes at me. ‘So, my question to you is, can you handle her?’
I look at him. ‘You know I can. I’ve been handling her—’ I manage not to cringe ‘—for over two years. I’m doing everything that needs to be done. I make sure she does her homework, I make sure she gets good grades and that she practises her piano.’
He stares at me, nostrils flaring.
‘I know what I’m doing, Max. We’ll be fine. You’re only going for ten days.’
I lean in even closer and kiss the side of his chin.
‘I’d love it if you stayed, but if you want to go, you can trust me with her. I promise.’
He looks at me sideways, then he takes my head in his hands and kisses me on the lips. But he’s holding me too tight, and it hurts. ‘Do you know what I do all day at work?’ he says into my face.
I hold his wrists. ‘You fix things.’
‘I don’t just fix things,’ he says, his mouth moving to the side of my neck. ‘I fix people too.’
A lump forms in my throat. I swallow it down. ‘I bet you’re very good at it,’ I say.
‘That’s right. And do you know how I fix people who mess up? The ones who don’t listen to instructions?’
He doesn’t wait for an answer. He knocks the side of my head with his index knuckle.
‘I rewire their brain.’
I jerk back. ‘I’m not one of your employees, Max.’
‘We could argue that point all night, but let’s not.’ He sits back against the sofa. ‘You have to learn there’s a right way to do things, and a wrong way.’
‘I have to clean up,’ I blurt, standing up.
‘I need to be sure something like this won’t happen again, Kate. I need to teach you the right way to do things.’ He rubs his chin. ‘I think you should do lines. Five hundred lines. That should do it. What do you say, my little schoolteacher?’
‘Max, come on. Don’t make me do that. It’s really silly.’
‘Actually, wait. You made a nice dinner, so let’s go with three hundred.’
‘Max—’
‘From now on,’ he begins slowly, deliberately, ‘I will follow Max’s instructions at all times. That’s it. That’s the line. Three hundred times. And I want them neat, not scribbled.’ He pushes himself off the sofa.
I bite the inside of my cheek. I really, really, don’t want to do this. It’s ridiculous and demeaning, but if I argue, then Holly will be the one bearing the brunt of it. ‘I don’t think we have enough paper in the house,’ I say.
‘We have enough paper. There’s a stack of it near the printer in the study.’
‘It’s going to take me hours.’
‘And you should have thought of that before you encouraged my daughter to disobey me.’ He kisses the top of my head. ‘I’m going to do some work in there until I go and get Holly. Why don’t you clean up down here? And do your lines in the spare bedroom. I don’t want to be disturbed when I get home.’
‘Maybe I should pick her up, Max.’ I mean, it’s not far; it’s highly unlikely he’ll get stopped by the police, but still. I hate it when he gets in the car after having too many drinks.
He narrows his eyes at me. ‘Why would you say that?’
I bite my lip. ‘Because then you could enjoy another glass of wine?’
He looks at me sideways. ‘Are you saying I’ve had too much to drink?’
‘No. Of course not.’
‘Good.’ At the kitchen door, he stops, grabs the doorjamb and slaps it once. ‘That was a really good night, Kate.’
Then he slaps it again and walks out.