Page 86 of The Honeymoon Affair

‘We’re really not.’ I keep my voice as steady as possible. ‘I have to keep things civil because he’s my client, not because he’s my husband.’

‘And the wild sex?’

‘OK, OK, so we’ve slept together a few times. It didn’t mean anything.’

‘Didn’t it?’

I sigh. I don’t know if it did or didn’t. It was usually on a Freedom Friday and after a bottle of wine. So it was drunk sex. Or friends-with-benefits sex. Or just ordinary casual sex. But it wasn’t enough to make us decide to give being married another go. So in the end, it was still break-up sex.

I tell Ellis that I really don’t want to talk about my sex life with her brother, and remind her that the only thing that matters is that he’s now engaged to someone else.

‘What’s the fiancée’s name, by the way?’ I ask. ‘He introduced us, but only after he’d made his announcement, and I’ve completely forgotten.’

‘Iseult O’Connor.’

I nod, even though we’re on a voice call and she can’t see me.

‘I do think he’s completely bonkers in getting engaged,’ I concede. ‘I can understand him having a fling with her, but marrying her? What on earth’s going on in his head? What’s she thinking?’

‘I bet she sees him as a ticket to a great life. The house, the glamour . . .’

I laugh. Even Ellis is seduced by the so-called glamour of Charles’s life. But she only sees one side of it. I’m sure Iseult sees the same. I point out that it isn’t all parties and having a good time, and she admits I’m right. But she feels sure Iseult is only in it for the money.

‘Do you really think so?’

‘Why else?’

‘I know he’s your brother and therefore you’re blind to his charms, but he is quite a desirable man,’ I point out.

‘Not for a twenty-nine-year-old girl.’

‘Twenty-nine isn’t a girl,’ I say, even though that’s exactly how I’ve been thinking of her. ‘She’s a grown woman. Although . . .’ I grit my teeth before continuing, ‘she’s certainly younger and perkier and livelier than me.’

‘I’m quite certain he’s making a massive mistake,’ says Ellis. ‘It’s infatuation, not love. Can you . . . well, can you string out the divorce thing? Give him time to come to his senses?’

‘It’s been strung out enough already. We need to move on.’

‘I’ve every confidence that you can move on in whatever way you want,’ says Ellis. ‘You’re a strong woman with your own business. But he’s . . . well, he’s always been a bit vulnerable. He pours it all into his books. He can’t afford to make a terrible mistake with this girl.’

‘You haven’t met her yet,’ I say. ‘You might actually think she’s perfect for him.’

‘Is she?’

I snort. I might be good at arguing a point, but I’m not going to say that Iseult is perfect for Charles.

‘Is she drop-dead gorgeous?’ asks Ellis.

‘She’s pretty enough, with her smooth skin and dark brown eyes that look at him devotedly.’

‘It’s the devotion, isn’t it? All men want women to look at them as though they’re gods, when the reality is that most of them are children.’

I laugh. Then I tell her that Charles reminded me of a Greek god when I first met him.

‘Don’t make it easy for him, that’s all I’m asking,’ she says. ‘If it’s the right thing for him, make him work for it.’

I’ve always made things easy for Charles. It’s my job, after all. But I don’t say this to Ellis.

When we end the call, I sit with the manuscript in front of me and the red pen in my hand. Then I draw a line through two long, unnecessary paragraphs. I tell myself that whatever about his personal life, when it comes to his novel, I’m certainly not going to make things easy for him one little bit.