Page 215 of Private Lives

Through the long arched windows of the house she could see Jessica watching them.

‘Sam, go back inside. Do what’s best for you and for your baby.’

He nodded sadly, then turned and walked back to the house, closing the door behind him, not even a backwards glance.

Anna squeezed the car keys into her hand. Do not cry, she told herself, knowing Jessica would be watching. She turned and hobbled to the car, got inside and closed the door. One single tear escaped down her cheek. The case was over. It was all over. She turned the ignition to start the engine and motored down the drive.

69

He saw her through the crowd, at a quiet table by the window of Claridge’s restaurant, where Matt had managed to wing a last-minute reservation using Larry’s name. Carla had always looked beautiful, but tonight Matt knew she had pulled all the stops out. In a cream fitted dress scooped low at the front and her blonde air piled up on her head, she looked sensational. She was holding on to a glass of champagne, her long fingers playing up and down the stem. Was she as nervous as him? No, Carla was always in control, he thought. She always knew what she wanted. But what was that?

‘You look great,’ he said honestly, bending to kiss her cheek.

‘You’re not so bad yourself,’ she smiled as he took his seat opposite her.

He played with his napkin absently. This was like being on a blind date, that mild apprehension of not knowing how the evening would pan out, or what he would think of the person he was meeting. It seemed ridiculous to feel that way. After all, Carla was someone so familiar to him, whose body he knew intimately, someone he knew inside and out, good points and bad. And yet he had no idea what to expect from the evening and where it might head. Despite the words of wisdom from his father, despite the internal conflict in his own head, he knew that tonight was the time to make up his mind about what to do: try and reunite with his ex-wife, or relegate their media-room passion to one night of madness. But taking a seat opposite her, he was none the wiser about what he wanted. She certainly looked incredible. So much so that he was aware that half the men in the restaurant were looking at her. But instead of feeling pride, he had a vague sense of discomfort. He knew that she had dressed to please him, so why did he feel more guilty than aroused?

?

?This feels weird, doesn’t it?’ she said.

‘We’ve been for dinner before.’ He glanced at the menu, but his appetite had deserted him.

‘Not like this,’ said Carla. ‘Somehow it feels more grown-up. Like we’ve finally arrived and we’re not just playing catch-up with all these couples who are richer and more successful than we are.’ She looked at him approvingly. ‘I like the new you, Matt Donovan.’

Her bright blue eyes played with his. Even in the early days of their relationship he had known that she was so beautiful and ambitious, she would one day move up and on, to the next better, brighter opportunity. He’d been right, of course, but now it seemed as if he was that brighter opportunity. He couldn’t help feeling flattered.

‘Well I’m not sure there is a new me,’ he joked. ‘I have a new job. That’s it. I’m still the same underneath this slightly more expensive suit.’

‘I suppose,’ she said, but her smile told him she didn’t believe a word of it. Suddenly Matt felt awkward under her gaze, as if she was seeing something in him that wasn’t there.

‘So how was Ibiza?’ he said, to change the subject. ‘Fabulous. Except for the terrible brats that came along with the host’s friends, Marc and Lucia Hamilton. Do you know Marc, a hedgie at Solitaire Capital?’

‘Not the circles I move in, I’m afraid.’

‘I’ll introduce you.’ She said it as if it was a done deal.

The sommelier came over with the bottle of champagne in an ice bucket.

‘I ordered some fizz.’

‘Of course.’

Carla leaned forward and touched Matt’s hand.

‘I can’t stop thinking about the other night,’ she whispered, a flirtatious smile on her face. ‘The night before I went to Ibiza. Was it always that good?’

‘I’m sure we had our moments.’ Under the table he could feel her touching his leg with her shoe. He imagined her naked in the media room and sat back in his chair.

‘Don’t be nervous,’ she chided. ‘Although I am too. I feel like a schoolgirl. Who’d have thought it, me and you, giving it another go?’

She announced it, so typically, as if the decision had already been made, and suddenly it was as if a fog had lifted. He took a breath, knowing that the words he was about to say would change the course of not only his life, but also his son’s.

‘I’m not sure we should give it another go, Carla.’

As he swallowed hard, he watched her eyes grow larger. It clearly wasn’t the response she had been expecting.

‘You didn’t seem to think that when you were fucking me by the popcorn machine,’ she hissed.