Page 134 of Wife After Wife

June 2007

As usual, Terri was at her desk an hour before anyone else arrived. It had been this way for sixteen years now, since Harry first lured her to Rose Corp. She relished the silence of the office as she worked her way through the tedious admin. Getting that out of the way meant she could spend more of the day doing the creative stuff.

Sixteen years was a heck of a long time, but she still loved her job, feeling no compulsion to move on. She’d established theRackas the UK’s leading current affairs magazine, up there withTime, and had no intention of relinquishing the reins.

Over the years, her opinion of Harry Rose had changed. Her initial knee-jerk loathing for the everything-on-a-plate public school boy had given way to respect—for his ability to stay one step ahead in business, and for the way he backed her up no matter how much she upset people. Which was a lot, and often. Eventually, she’d also come to enjoy his company. This was based mostly on the creative insults the pair threw each other’s way. It was a fine sport indeed, and along with the mutual respect, a strange affection had grown between them.

Until recently. Of course, it wasn’t surprising Harry had changed. The poor bloke had been through hell. First the accident, then losingtwo wives under tragic circumstances. It would be difficult for anyone to remain positive in the face of life throwing that level of shit at you.

But apart from the heinous asset-stripping episode, she’d never thought of Harry as a bad person.

She couldn’t focus on her emails, and sat back in her chair, drumming her fingers on her desk, reflecting on the conversation that had been replaying in her mind in a relentless loop since yesterday.

She’d had lunch with the director of a new ad agency, from which theRackwas hoping to secure a healthy spend. She normally left such matters to the sales team, but Percy North had requested a one-on-one meeting.

When she saw him across the restaurant, she remembered—he was Ana’s boyfriend before Ana had got together with Harry.

He hadn’t changed much. His face was pudgier, but he still wore the same open-faced expression, somewhere between friendly and eager to please.

“Terri, it’s been a while. What can I get you?”

“Is that a hearty red? I’ll join you in one of those.”

Percy seemed in a hurry to get the business part of the conversation out of the way. “Right, that’s all good,” he said, before they’d even started their meals. “I’ll send our media team over.”

“Right you are, Percy. Now why do I get the impression that’s not the real reason you invited me here?”

He looked at her steadily, his eyes a little watery.

“Out with it, Percy.”

“Right. Yep. First, I should mention my current situation, which isn’t pretty but relates to everything. I’m getting divorced. The reason my marriage has been such a failure is because I’ve only ever loved one person, and she was stolen from me by yourfuckingboss.”

“Ah.”

Percy had an ax to grind, and it soon became clear he’d prefer it to be into Harry’s skull. He claimed Harry had engineered Percy’s move to Dublin, in some sort of business-for-banishment deal with his agency. With Percy out of the way, Harry had slithered in and seduced his fiancée.

Was it true? That sort of thing wasn’t Harry’s usual modus operandi. And yet... she cast her mind back. Harry had been infatuated with Ana, would have done anything to win her.

Ana.

She’d been the love of Percy’s life, and Harry’s, surely. And she was Terri’s too, though Ana had never been aware of the true nature of her feelings.

Percy wasn’t finished. There was a part two. He signaled to the waiter for more wine, his shirtsleeve falling back to reveal a chunky Rolex. He noticed her eyes on it and looked a little proud of himself.

“We use the same law firm as Rose. I met Harry’s lawyer, Tom Cranwell. He has absolutely no discretion. Took me remarkably few drinks to loosen his tongue.” He flicked back the lock of hair that had fallen across his eyes. The gesture annoyed Terri. The style was dated; his hair was far too long for a man in his forties.

For a moment, Terri appreciated how satisfying it must have been for Harry to whip this man’s arse off to Dublin and steal his prize. And she knew why Ana hadn’t followed him.

“Really.”

“Yup. Cranwell said Ana intended to take Harry to the cleaners when it came to the divorce settlement. Basically didn’t care if the bastard was ruined. If she’d been successful, he’d have needed to sell off a huge chunk of the business, and she demanded the two houses too.”

“All of which was within the law. So?”

“How bloody convenient she died.” He sat back, and there was a moment of triumph as he delivered his punch line. But then the swagger slipped, replaced by pain. He bent down to retrieve his napkin from the floor, and by the time he’d sat up straight again he’d regained his composure.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Percy,” she said. “What’s this? Some sort of half-arsed conspiracy theory? She died of blood poisoning, or toxic shock or whatever they call it.”