Page 100 of The House on Sunset Lake

‘I’m not particularly proud of myself for cheating on my wife, your mother, but the girl flattered me.’

‘You like that, don’t you?’

‘How do you think it felt for me that summer, Jim? One minute I’m king of the world, the next minute I’m the man who was. I liked to think I was in glorious exile in Savannah, but I was no fool. I saw the panic, the pity in Saul’s eyes when he sent us to the Lake House.’ He took a deep breath, a frown line appearing between his brows.

‘Why you?’ asked Jim, the question echoing over and over in his head.

Bryn looked ashamed. ‘Because I was just a bit older, wiser and more famous than the boy next door.’

‘I was in love with her.’

‘I didn’t know that. You have to believe that much. I was a middle-aged man who liked the attention and wanted an ego boost. Don’t pretend it hasn’t happened to you: someone young and beautiful presents themselves on a plate and you take it.’

Of course it had happened to Jim before. The gorgeous junior PR executives, the interior design assistants. Hell, he remembered the first time he’d had sex with Melissa; she’d been a lawyer at the firm he’d been doing some work with.

‘Jennifer Wyatt is a beautiful woman,’ continued Bryn, ‘but she was brought up in a certain way . . . brought up to believe that she could use her beauty and charm to manipulate men, to get things from them, money, position, pleasure—’

‘She’s not like that,’ Jim said.

‘Isn’t she? Then why did she choose Connor over you? Why is she sleeping with you, the successful, dynamic you, when she is, I assume, still married? That girl is trouble, Jim,’ Bryn said intensely. ‘She always has been. She’s a prick tease. Look at how she led you up the garden path for weeks. Look what she did with me – that wasn’t just about my connections or my status, it was a fuck-you to her mother—’

‘What do you mean?’

Bryn looked hot and uncomfortable. He wiped his mouth and sank down on a kitchen chair. Jim could see sweat beading at his temples.

‘Are you all right?’

‘I’m fine. Probably had a bit too much to drink,’ he said, resting his elbows on his knees. ‘I started at lunchtime . . .’

‘Do you want a glass of water?’

‘No.’

‘Are you sure you’re all right?’ Jim asked as his father seemed to sway.

‘Actually, I feel a bit strange.’

‘Should I call a doctor?’

‘No, it’s fine,’ Bryn said, looking up. His face had now completely drained of colour.

‘Dad, it’s not fine.’

‘I feel sick.’

‘I’m calling an ambulance.’

As Jim pulled out his mobile, Bryn lurched forward and fell to the floor with a crash, the chair landing on top of him.

Jim crouched down and rolled him over gently. His father’s face was ashen, and there was blood dripping down his chin from a cut on his lip. Ceramic floors were not a soft landing.

He grabbed his phone and started stabbing buttons.

‘Mum, it’s Jim. Get home now.’

‘I’m just on my way. I’m in a taxi—’

‘It’s Dad,’ he said, cutting her short. ‘He’s collapsed. I think it’s a heart attack. I’m calling an ambulance.’