Page 56 of The Girlfriend

I T WAS TIME FOR AN APOLOGY. TIME TO EAT HUMBLE PIE AND ADMIT she was wrong.

She’d been too harsh, too quick to judge.

This, Laura admitted, heavyhearted, about her abominable behavior.

She waited in some trepidation at the front door, and as she glanced around, she noticed how the nights were drawing in.

It was cloudy and the still grayness seemed to blanket everything.

A few seconds later, her buzz was answered.

“I’m sorry,” she said anxiously, quickly, as she was feeling brittle and wasn’t sure if she’d be able to hold it together if Isabella was still angry with her. “I completely overreacted and I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.”

Isabella deliberated a moment; then she opened the door wider and indicated for Laura to come in.

The relief was so great she thought she might burst into tears, but that would be absurd, so she bit the inside of her cheeks to stop herself. She seemed on the verge of tears too often now.

“Drink?” asked Isabella as she led her into the drawing room, where Laura had come for the party just a few days before.

“Yes, please,” and she watched silently as Isabella mixed two gin and tonics. “It was a lovely party,” she started feebly.

“I think we both know that’s not true,” said Izzy, handing her a glass, “at least not for you. ”

Laura was chastened. “Sorry. But I did expressly ask you not to set me up with him.”

“I didn’t set you up—he just happened to be at the same dinner party. He and Richard have been doing some work together, and Richard wanted to extend the alliance socially. He was there as Richard’s guest. . . .”

“Oh, God, now I feel even worse. . . .”

“But I admit I did place you next to each other at dinner. Not to set you up,” she said quickly, “but I just thought you might enjoy the company. No, not like that, I don’t mean that you’re .

. . lonely or anything, it’s just everyone knows each other inside out.

I thought it might be fun for you, someone new. ”

Laura ruefully remembered her polite, aloof responses over dinner. “I don’t think it was much fun for him.”

She was half-expecting an admonishment of some kind, but Isabella took a long swallow of her drink, then said: “He’ll get over it.”

There it was again, the dam bursting and relief swamping her, and she started to well up.

For God’s sake! This is ridiculous. She blinked quickly, knowing this overreaction to a kindness, a much-needed reconciliation, was all because of Daniel and, to some extent, Howard.

She hadn’t had a reply to her letter and was beginning to wonder if she ever would.

What if they didn’t speak before Christmas, or Christmas passed them by altogether?

What if it went on even longer, for a year, two?

Perhaps they’d just bump into each other on the street one day.

Nod an acknowledgment to each other. Perhaps so much time would pass, they’d get used to being without each other—but this thought was so unbearably sad, it almost made her stagger, collapse weakly onto the sofa.

“Laura, is everything okay?”

She’d barely heard the question and adjusted her gaze so she was refocusing on her friend.

“You seem a bit . . .”

“What?” Her voice caught.

“Preoccupied. Has something happened?”

Laura tried to smile. “Like what?”

“I don’t know. ”

“Honestly, things couldn’t be better.”

Izzy didn’t believe her, she could tell.

“You can talk to me, you know. I’m your friend. Forget this silly little spat.” Izzy squeezed her arm warmly, softened her voice. “You and I, we’ve been through everything.”

She almost confessed then. She longed to, in her head.

But how did she start? The lie had made her too ashamed—she couldn’t bear for anyone else to know what she’d done, and she was afraid of what Izzy would think of her.

She looked at Izzy’s face, open and kind, and forced a smile. “Really, there’s nothing.”

Izzy studied her carefully, then acknowledged she was being pushed away. She looked hurt. “Fine,” she said quietly, and in that word, Laura felt a door close between them. It was awkward then, and she heard herself making excuses.

“Suppose I should be getting back. Haven’t fed Moses yet.

” She knew Izzy was aware she was just making stuff up.

It was feeble and depressing, and she suddenly had to get out of there.

Usually, when they said good-bye, they had something in the future to look forward to: “See you tomorrow.” “Meet you for lunch, Tuesday.” “I’ll give you a call about yoga. ” This time, there was nothing.

“See you soon,” Laura eventually went for as she briefly kissed Isabella’s cheek and then walked down the path and looked for a cab.

She hesitated before looking back, as she was unsure of what Izzy’s expression would be.

Then, when she did, meaning to smile and reassure them both, she just caught sight of the front door as it was closed shut.

* * *

The house was cold when she got in, and dark.

She switched on the heating and went to make herself some tea, but when she got the milk from the fridge, she saw a half bottle of wine and poured a glass of that instead.

She knew drinking wasn’t going to help with her melancholy mood, but what the hell.

She debated over whether to make anything to eat and then decided she would, for Howard too, as it was his first day back after a work conference.

He hadn’t texted her to say he’d be late.

Having something to do made her feel a little better and she switched the radio on and started a Bolognese sauce.

By the time she heard the elevator come up from the den, dinner was ready.

She decided that instead of the dining room, they could eat in the kitchen tonight.

It would make a change and would be good for them to sit somewhere different, somewhere old habits would not take hold.

She was just setting the table as Howard walked in.

He stopped when he saw what she was doing.

“Hi. Hungry?” she asked brightly, her hands full of spoons and forks.

He looked across at the stove.

“It’s spaghetti Bolognese.”

Howard nodded and went to wash his hands at the sink.

“Can I get you a drink?”

Howard tensed. “Will you stop?”

“Stop what?”

“This stupid pretense.”

Laura smiled, genuinely confused, which seemed to irritate him more. Then she noticed how cold he was, how angry.

“I never had you down as being so . . .”

“What?”

He hesitated. “Spiteful.”

She was startled to find how much he could still hurt her.

He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a letter, then put it on the breakfast bar.

She looked at the envelope. It was addressed to Marianne Parker.

She instinctively recoiled. His girlfriend’s letters?

Why is he bringing them home? Then she looked closer, frowning.

The handwriting . . . It’s mine. She slowly drew the envelope toward her.

“Open it. Although, of course, you already know what’s inside.”

She pulled out the notepaper— her notepaper from her writing desk—and unfolded the letter.

Dear Marianne,

I’ve been wanting to write this for a while, but it’s never quite seemed the right moment.

And then I realized there never was going to be a right moment.

What was I waiting for? You to do the decent thing and get your bloodsucking proboscis out of my husband?

I’m sick of being ignored, taken advantage of.

You are a vile human being. You just take what you want without any thought to the effect it might have on others.

And you do this with seemingly no conscience.

I hope you’re punished for this, that the worst things happen to you and your family.

I hope you suffer some horrible accident.

It would be karma if it were disfiguring.

It would be justice.

There, I feel better now. Some things just have to be said.

Laura Cavendish.

She dropped the letter like it was corroding the skin on her fingertips. “I didn’t write this.”

Howard pulled a face.

“I promise, I didn’t.” But it looked like her handwriting.

Then in a rush, she knew. Her mind grew stricken as she tried to work it out.

How had Cherry done it? How did she know what her handwriting was like?

How had she managed to forge it so well, and when had she gotten the notepaper? She saw Howard watching her.

“Howard, Cherry’s forged this note, made it look like it was from me.” She pushed the letter toward him. “It looks like my handwriting, but it’s not quite the same.” Suddenly she noticed something. “Look at the P ’s, I don’t quite join the loop, and she does, look. ”

He sat silently for a moment and she could tell he was trying to hold his temper. “ Cherry? Really, Laura? In a minute, you’re going to tell me she’s also responsible for the crisis in the Middle East and global warming.”

“No, no. You have to listen. Howard, about a month ago, she came to my office. Told me she knew that I’d lied about Daniel. And she said she was going to take everything away from me. She’s threatening me. Somehow she got this paper. She’s been in the house. . . .” The thought chilled her.

“Why didn’t you say anything about this before?”

“I didn’t think you’d believe me.” She could tell he didn’t now, and it made her frustrated. She looked at the letter again. “How did you get this, anyway? ”

“It arrived this morning.”

“And you just happened to drop by and be there to comfort Marianne? I thought you were supposed to be at a work conference?”

“Laura, I want a divorce.”

Something clamped around her heart and stopped it. “What?”

“Marianne’s leaving her husband.”

“How nice for you.”

“Don’t be like that.”

“Like what? You want me to congratulate the two of you? I’ve had to stand by and turn a blind eye for years while the two of you . . . !” Laura exploded.

“I’m sorry.”