Page 133 of The Honeymoon Affair

‘Of course.’

‘Come upstairs and have a glass of wine with us first.’

‘Are you joking? I can’t imagine Charles wants his ex and his fiancée in the same room. Besides, I have to drive home. I can’t drink wine.’

‘Iseult has gone.’

‘She has?’

‘She was a bit overwrought by everything.’

‘I’m not surprised. I’m a bit overwrought myself.’

‘I don’t blame you,’ says Ellis. ‘Seriously,’ she adds. ‘Leave the car. Have a glass with us. We need to talk.’

‘Why?’

‘Charles is a mess. He needs sorting out. And you’re the only one who can do it.’

‘Charles made his choice,’ I say. ‘He can sort himself out.’

‘He needs closure, Ariel.’

So do I. I drop my coat on the sofa and follow her up the stairs.

Charles and his mother are sitting opposite each other, tumblers of whiskey in front of them. He gets up when I walk into the room.

‘Are you OK?’ he asks.

‘I will be.’

‘What d’you want to drink?’

‘I’ll have a whiskey too,’ I reply.

He pours a generous measure for me and then mixes Ellis’s requested gin and tonic.

‘So,’ says Pamela. ‘The night of the long knives.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous, Mum,’ says Ellis. ‘It was a misunderstanding, that’s all.’

‘Yet Charles’s wife is here and his fiancée has gone,’ she observes.

‘I called her. She’s not answering,’ says Charles.

I can’t help thinking that this seems to happen a lot between them. And I suddenly wonder if she’s the one who’s in control of the relationship, not him. In which case, she’s doing better than me, because I always come running when he calls. Even tonight.

‘Can you blame her?’ asks Ellis. ‘I’m sure it wasn’t the sort of evening she was expecting.’

And that’s my fault. I stepped in to help Charles because I always do, but this was a step too far and I don’t understand why I didn’t see it before now. I’m so used to being his fixer that I thought I should fix this too. Although that wasn’t the entire reason, I admit to myself as I recall spiking Iseult’s quiche with jalapeños. What has happened to me? What have I become? Who have I become?

I take a tissue from my bag and blow my nose.

Charles has his phone in his hand and is composing a text. I’m sure it’s to tell Iseult that he loves her more than anything and that he’s going to fire me as his agent. Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe we should never have stayed together in a professional capacity. He glances up and sees me looking at him. I can’t read the expression in his eyes. He can’t love both of us. At least . . . he can’t be in love with both of us.

He’s not in love with me. He’s used to me. He depends on me. But he’s not in love with me.

‘I really do have to go.’ I drain the whiskey and take out my own phone to call a cab.