‘I think we both know you have, Robert,’ Diana said, not even glancing in his direction as she headed for her walk in wardrobe.
‘Such aswhat,exactly?’ Watching her reappear, carrying a suitcase, Robert was uncomprehending for a second, and then a sharp knot of panic tightened inside him.
‘Where are you going?’ he asked her, his throat suddenly parched.
Her back to him, Diana placed the suitcase down on her dressing table, and picked up her handbag, casually flicking through the contents. ‘I’m leaving you,’ she said matter-of-factly, snapping her handbag shut and turning to face him.
Only then did she look at him. She looked at him full on for the first time in a very long time. And what Robert saw shook him to the core: hatred, unadulterated hatred, her ice-blue eyes hardening to flint.
‘But… why?’ he stammered, fear gripping his insides like a vice. But he knew. It wasn’t about this nonsense in the newspapers, which he’d tried to reassure her would disappear once he had his injunction in place. This simmering anger went back to the harrowing events of twenty-five years ago. She’d turned away from him in the bleak days following the funeral, making it clear that she couldn’t have cared less about his pain, the fact that he’d felt as if his heart had been ripped out of him. He’d needed her then, like never before. He’d needed to hold her, if nothing else, but she hadn’t been there for him. Instead, she looked at him with growing disdain if he came home late at night, as if a man was supposed to remain celibate all his life.
Every day, he’d acknowledged a quiet dread in the pit of his stomach that she might leave him. But not now. Shecouldn’t! The media would have a field day with it. It would be proof positive that he was guilty, in the eyes of the public. Sheknewthat. He couldn’t do this on his own. Face the press, who – if, God forbid, he wasn’t granted an injunction – would dig mercilessly through every aspect of his life, seizing on anything to paint him as a bully and a sexual predator, no matter how baseless. Face the police, if these ludicrous claims were taken seriously. The courts! God help him.
‘It wasn’t true, Diana!’ Sweat wetting his forehead, he repeated what he’d always maintained. ‘I have no idea why Sarah’s friend would claim I did such a thing. She was a child – confused. A little liar, obviously. Karla wasthere, for God’s sake. She corroborated my story. I was nowhere near her.’
Diana didn’t move when he stepped towards her, his hands outstretched, desperate to feel her hands in his, to be held by the woman who was the one constant in his life. She just kept right on looking at him, right down into the depths of his soul.
Robert glanced away. Closing his eyes, he was assaulted by harsh memories of the day of Sarah’s death, one he would never forget: Diana turning from the phone, her face distraught, her eyes awash with tears. ‘I have to be with my mother,’ she’d said. ‘Please, Robert…’
‘I know.’ He’d nodded, his heart sinking. Bloody woman,he’d thought. Could she have chosen a more inconvenient time to die? ‘Of course you do.’ He heard himself saying it, his voice sympathetic, his irritation immense, knowing he would stand little to no chance of getting his tender for a huge contract in.
A tight band of tension tightening between his temples, he’d been sweating profusely in the stifling heat of the long summer, playing childminder while he attempted to work from home. Nausea – he felt it again – swilled around in his belly from the vast amount of brandy he’d consumed at the golf club the night before, the whisky he’d imbibed before lunch. The children – he heard them, above the distracting whine of the lawnmowers. The neighbour’s unruly kids too, screeching and screaming right outside his study window. The phone ringing incessantly: his new secretary, pissing about at the office rather than getting her arse over to the house, where he needed her.
Utterly fucking useless.
The children, their noise escalating – unacceptable, raucous shrieking – grating against the inside of his skull. His rage, building steadily inside him.
Sarah calling him a miserable bastard as he strode into the garden, bawling at them to keep the noise down. This from the mouth of an eight-year-oldchild? His temper had exploded. He hadn’t meant to do it. It was if a switch had flicked inside him.
Picturing the shock on Sarah’s face when he’d lashed out, her hand clutched to her cheek as she backed away from him, falling as she did, Robert felt afresh his shame and deep, deep remorse. His horror, when he’d realised what he’d done. He heard it now, the sickening crack as her head made contact with the garden path. His heart had stopped beating as she lay there, unmoving. When her eyes had finally fluttered open, and he’d been able to breathe again, she’d looked at him as if he were some kind of monster.
He’d only wanted to apologise to her that night. To have Sarah forgive him, not look at him as if he were something abhorrent. He recalled stumbling home after several brandies at the club. He’d needed them. Knowing he’d be highly unlikely to get a warm reception if he went to his own bedroom reeking of alcohol, he went into the girls’ room – he could remember that much. After that, nothing.
‘I don’t know what happened. I don’t remember,’ he said, his voice a hoarse whisper as he looked again at Diana, his heart leaden with the weight of the guilt he’d borne since that night. Would always.
‘She was yourdaughter,’ Diana seethed. ‘Ilovedher. Karla loved her. She was her sister! She never knew her as anything but. And you had her blaming herself for herdeath, you despicable bastard!’
‘I didn’t want her to do that.’ Robert took a faltering step towards her. ‘I—’
‘Youlied!’ Diana’s voice was shrill, her face tight with fury. And now Robert was truly scared. She’d never spoken to him like that before. ‘You made Karla lie for you! Have you any idea what that would do to a child? The guilt you caused? The heartbreak?’
‘It broke my heart, too.’ Desperate, Robert took another step. ‘I didn’t mean to—’
‘I’m going,’ Diana stated flatly. There was no compassion in her expression. Not a smidgeon. Just a pitying look in her eyes as she walked past him to the door.
Robert felt his chest tighten, his heart rate quicken. He would have a heart attack before the day was through, he swore. He breathed in hard, feeling his fury at the unjustness of it all, the suffering he’d endured at the hands of other people, mounting inside him. ‘You won’t get a penny from me!’ he yelled, whirling around after her. ‘Not a penny! Do you hear me? Don’t even bother trying, Diana!’
Diana stopped, and faced him. ‘I don’t need to. The house is half mine and I have investments of my own, Robert; something you wouldn’t be aware of.’
‘What investments?’ Robert scoffed. He gave her a monthly allowance – a generous one, he considered. He permitted her access to certain accounts, but she would never have been able to stow away enough to afford the lifestyle to which she’d become accustomed. Unless… Recalling the discrepancies on his statements, funds not showing that should have, Robert blinked, stupefied. Hadshesomehow accessed his business accounts? Was his accountantawarethat she had?
Diana didn’t answer; she simply studied him for a long unnerving moment, then, ‘I know what you did,’ she announced. ‘I know why Jason turned down the loan.’
Robert felt the blood drain from his face. ‘What are you talking about?’ His voice came out a croak.
‘I imagine this will add fuel to the press pyre,’ Diana replied calmly. ‘I haven’t informed Karla yet. Naturally, I want to do that sensitively. Goodbye, Robert.’
Cold foreboding clutching his stomach, Robert stared at her. Then, as the implication of what she was saying began to sink in, he felt something snap dangerously inside him. The rage that consumed him was so blinding, so all-encompassing, he had no awareness of crossing the room. He was appalled when he realised what he’d done. He hadn’t meant to. He’d never laid a hand on her before. He didn’t realise he had, until he saw the terror in her eyes.
