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Our Wedding Night 52
“I dunno. See out the holiday? Take it from there?” Ben looks at his phone. “I have this meeting with Yuri Zhernakov. You know he’s sailed here especially to see me?”“Wow!” I stare at him, impressed.“I know.” He puffs himself out a bit. “I want to sell. It makes sense. Lorcan thinks I shouldn’t,” he adds, “which makes it an even better reason to do it.”His face has twisted into a familiar disgruntled expression. I’ve already heard several rants about how Lorcan’s a control freak and how Lorcan’s a cynical user and once, randomly, how Lorcan’s a bad Ping-Pong player. I’m not wild to hear another one, so I hastily move the conversation on.“So you’ll give up work completely?” This seems like a bad idea to me— although who cares what I think? I’m only the soon-to-be ex-wife.“Of course I won’t give up,” says Ben, looking a little stung. “Yuri says he’ll keep me on as special adviser. We’ll start some new projects together. Play around with some ideas. Yuri’s a great guy. Want to see h
Our Wedding Night 53: Fliss
I’ve never felt so chastened in my life. Finally, I can see the light. The truth. The actuality. I was wrong. One hundred percent, totally, utterly, absolutely wrong. How could my instincts have been so off? How can I be such an idiot?I don’t just feel chastened: I feel crushed. Devastated. I’m standing in Sofia airport, reading Lottie’s text, prickling all over as I think of what I’ve put her through during the last few days. Her honeymoon has been hellish—yet she and Ben seem to be bonded better than ever.This whole stupid farce was about Daniel and me. I was indulging my own needs. I was looking at the world through skewed glasses, and Lottie was the innocent victim. The only saving grace is she doesn’t know what I did, and she never will know. Thank God.I turn back to Lottie’s text, ignoring the boarding call for Ikonos. I’m not going to Ikonos. I’m not going anywhere near my sister’s honeymoon. I’ve done enough damage already. I’m finding a nice safe flight back to London for
Our Wedding Night 54: Lottie
I can hardly believe it’s true. Our hotel suite is empty. No staff milling around. No butlers. No harps. As I look around the sleek, silent furniture, I can feel a buzz of anticipation in the air. It’s as though the rooms are waiting for us to fill them with noise and heat and gasps and lovely, lovely sex.We arrived back at the hotel and came straight up here. Neither of us said a word. I’m blocking everything else out right now. All thoughts about our marriage. All thoughts about Richard. All thoughts about Sarah. My shame, my sadness, my humiliation—I’m blocking it all out. The only thing I’m focusing on is that insistent pulse inside me I’ve been feeling ever since I clapped eyes on Ben in that restaurant. I want him. He wants me. We deserve this.As he comes toward me, his eyes are darkening and I can tell he feels like I do: where to start? We have the whole experience ahead of us, like a delicious box of chocolates.“Did you put out DO NOT DISTURB?” I murmur as his lips find my
Our Wedding Night 55: Fliss
Fuck.Oh fuck.I feel hot and cold. I didn’t see this coming. I never thought that at this late stage she would find out. We’re on the island. We’re nearly there. We’re so nearly there.We’re standing outside the airport on Ikonos, our luggage assembled in a pile. Lorcan is at the taxi rank, negotiating a fare to the Amba Hotel, and I gesture to him to keep an eye on Noah.“Hi, Lottie,” I manage, but my voice has stopped working. I swallow several times, trying to regain my cool. What do I say? What can I say?“It was you.” Her voice is lacerating. “You’ve been trying to stop Ben and me from getting it together, haven’t you? You were behind the butlers and the single beds and the peanut oil. Who else would know about peanut oil but you?”“I …” I rub my face. “Listen. I … I just—”“Why would you do that? Why would anyone do that? It’s my honeymoon!” Her voice rises to a shriek of anguish and fury. “My honeymoon! And you ruined it!”“Lottie. Listen.” I gulp. “I thought … I was doing it f
Our Wedding Night 56: Fliss
An open marriage?I’m so thunderstruck I’ve sunk down onto my suitcase, right in the middle of the hot, dusty pavement, ignoring the stream of passengers who have to divert around me.“Ready?” says Lorcan, striding up with Richard and Noah, his eyes squinting against the blazing Greek sun. “I’ve arranged the fare. We need to get going.”I’m too flummoxed to reply. “Fliss?” He tries again.“They’ve got an open marriage,” I say. “Can you believe it?” Lorcan raises his eyebrows and whistles. “Ben will like that.” “An open marriage?” Richard goggles at me. “Lottie?” “Exactly!”“I can’t believe it.”“It’s true. She just told me herself.”Richard is silent for a few moments, breathing deeply. “That confirms it—I don’t really know her,” he says at last. “I’ve been an idiot. It’s time to put all this to an end.” He holds out his hand to Noah. “Bye, little chap. It’s been good traveling with you.”“Don’t go, Uncle Richard!” Noah flings his arms passionately around Richard’s legs, and for a mom
Our Wedding Night 57
“I don’t know,” I confess. “If they’d just turn round …”“That’s not Aunt Lottie!” says Noah scornfully. “That’s a different lady.” “Doesn’t really look like Ben,” confirms Lorcan, squinting at the guy. “Tootall.”At that moment, the girl turns her head and I realize she looks nothing like Lottie.“Oh God.” I sink down onto a nearby sun bed. “It’s not them. I can’t run around anymore. Can’t we have a drink?” I turn to Lorcan. “You must have missed your deadline by now. Get it done in the morning. Have a drink. Lorcan? What’s wrong?”I blink at him in surprise. His face is suddenly like stone. He’s staring at something beyond my shoulder, and I swivel to see what he’s looking at. It’s a normal luxury-hotel beach, with sun beds, and waves crashing onto the sand, and swimmers in the sea, and, beyond, a few sailing boats and, way beyond that, a big yacht moored in deep water. That’s what he’s staring at, I realize.“That’s Zhernakov’s yacht,” he says steadily. “What’s it doing here?”“Oh
Our Wedding Night 58: Lottie
I can see the tiny figures of swimmers bobbing around in the sea as I gaze back to shore. The late-afternoon sun is casting long shadows on the beach. Children are screaming and couples are embracing and families are playing together. And I suddenly wish with all my heart I was one of them. People on simple holidays, without complicated lives, without flaky, self-centered husbands, without disastrous decisions they have to unpick.I hated the yacht the minute we got on board. Yachts are awful. Everything is clad in white leather and I’m terrified of making a mark, and Yuri Zhernakov just ran a glance over me as though to say, No, you won’t make the cut as my fifth wife. I was instantly banished to the company of two Russian women with plumped-up lips and boobs. They’re so puffed up with silicone they make me think of balloon animals, and they have made no conversation except “Which limited-edition designer compact are you examining your reflection in?”Mine’s Body Shop, so that didn’t
Our Wedding Night 59: Lottie
When I give my Making Your Job Work for You! seminar to staff members at Blay Pharmaceuticals, one of my themes is: You can learn from everything. I take a sample workplace situation and we brainstorm and then list as bullet points What You Learned from This.After two hours on Yuri Zhernakov’s yacht, my bullet points would go as follows:• I am never having my lips done.• Actually, I wouldn’t mind a yacht.• Krug is ambrosia from heaven.• Yuri Zhernakov is so rich, it makes my eyes water.• Ben’s tongue was practically hanging out. And what about all those embarrassing sycophantic jokes?• Whatever Ben may think, Yuri is not interested in “joint projects.” The only thing he wanted to talk about was the house.• If you ask me, Yuri will get rid of the paper company altogether. Ben doesn’t seem to realize this.• I think Ben may be quite thick.• We should never, ever have come back via the beach.This was our big mistake. We should have got the boat to drop us a mile up th
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