She rasped out the last words. She would know from the look in his eyes. Oliver might be a great actor, but he could not lie to her. She knew his every tell, knew every plane of his face – the craggy and noble face with the wise Shakespearean eyes – and he could not lie to her. Toni fixed him in place with a stare, waiting. All at once, the noble face crumpled, and all the strength seemed to go out of his body. He sat weakly on the armchair nearest to her, close but still removed.
Nothing he ever did physically was uncalculated. He needed space from her. Toni felt her stomach tighten. It was the girl. She’d so hoped it wasn’t. Hoped he hadn’t done the clichéd thing of falling for a girl young enough to be his daughter. Because she would never be able to forgive him for this. Never be able to truly love him if he’d had an affair.
She was only forty-three but, in her world, perception was everything. At forty-three, a male TV anchor was young. A female was not. The rules were entirely different and henceforth, she would be Toni Cooper, famous for being the click-bait woman whose actor husband left her for a younger womanwho looked just like her.Nice.
Much would be made of the fact that her replacement was a woman without subtle creping on her eyelids, a woman who did not need secret visits to the dermatologist for filler and botulism, a woman who didn’t need to push her body through endless barre classes to keep it taut.
‘I’m glad you know,’ Oliver said, shoulders slumped as he sat in the armchair. ‘If you knew how often I wanted to tell you because it’s been killing me—’
‘Killingyou?’ Toni said, her voice rising even though she’d spent years perfecting her modulated television tones. Nobody shrieked on TV and made a career out of it. ‘I’m the one it’s killing, you cheating bastard.’
‘Toni, it has been killing me. I am so sorry. I had no idea how to tell you and I have let you down but,’ he looked up finally.
‘With that girl ... ?’ she asked.
To her complete astonishment and disbelief, he shook his head. ‘Girl?’
‘Marissa!’ she yelled.
Her words appeared to penetrate his brain.
‘Me cheating on you with Marissa? No, no,’ he said urgently. ‘There’s no girl! It’s nothing to do with Marissa. I mean, she wanted to, it’s the hero worship thing, but I’d never do that. She’s a kid. I mean, I was so broken that I didn’t realise for ages that she was caught up in the whole play magic, but I couldn’t do that to you as well. What sort of a man do you think I am? No, I wouldn’t dream of that, not when what I was doing was—’
Toni was confused.
Broken? As well?What was he talking about?
‘As well as what?’
‘Gambling,’ he said in almost a whisper.
Finally, he was looking at her. She was his confessor and he was ready to recite his sins.
‘I am so sorry, Toni. It’s been getting worse, and I kept losing. I was trying to put money back so I could win back but my luck had changed and the debts were racking up so quickly. You have no idea how quickly the money goes ...’
The words didn’t seem to sink in. Gambling? Oliver never looked at sports, unless he was with some of his more macho actor friends who wanted to watch something sporty. Then he could roar knowledgeably at the pitch because he could act anything.
‘What are you on about?’ demanded Toni.
‘I’m a gambler. I can’t help myself,’ he said bleakly. ‘I thought I could stop but I can’t. It takes over. It’s like it’s not me making the decisions. I have to do it.’
‘Have to do what?’
‘Play the games.’
Toni was used to applying verbal shock treatment to other people. But now, she felt it herself.
‘Games?’ she repeated.
Oliver bent over on his armchair so that his torso was leaning forward onto his knees. ‘Everything. I started on casino games, went on to the Premiership—’
‘Football?’ she asked, astonished.
‘I was a VIP member online. Could have gone to games because I got sent tickets, but I never cared about the game – it was the buzz, it was about winning. Eventually, I got into online poker too.’ He laughed a weak little laugh. ‘It’s called the crack cocaine of gambling.’
Toni stared at him. If he’d said he was taking crack cocaine, she wouldn’t have been more surprised. Oliver – gambling?
‘But you never go to the races—’ she began.
