STAR
H
is words don’t even register. I shake my head. I can’t have heard right. “What?” “Oh, darling,” he croons. “Don’t look at me like that. You know I can’t take it.”
“What are you talking about, Nigel?” I ask slowly. “I’m an addict. I’m addicted to gambling,” he mutters. “Gambling?” I repeat stupidly.
He nods, a pained expression on his face. “What? At work?”
“No.” He exhales loudly. “In casinos.”
I stare at him blankly. Nothing makes sense. We’ve been to a casino once. Two years ago. We sat together at a blackjack table. Nigel refused to play, but I did. He looked on with a slightly disapproving expression as I played three rounds and gleefully collected my winnings. Three hundred pounds. “But you don’t even like gambling!”
He runs his fingers through his hair. “I like it too much.” “Since when?”
He shrugs. “Recently. It started off as just a little fun, small amounts, letting off some stress. You know the intense stress I’m under in the city.”
“Stress?” I echo.
“You have no idea how much stress I have to cope with at work. It wrecks you.”
“What? I begged you to leave your job, but you insisted that you thrived on the high-powered stress. Your exact words were, ‘Thank God stress is not a woman, or I’d have to fuck her.’ So don’t you dare tell me that you started gambling because of the stress.”
“Well, whatever the reason was, I started gambling, okay,” he cries. “It’s not really my fault. I was only gambling small amounts. Everything would have been fine if this stupid guy at work didn’t tell me about a place where we could make a killing. That’s where it all went wrong. I was so sure I’d get it all back. I was so close to winning, Star. You don’t know how close. If only I could have had another chance …”
“I don’t believe this,” I whisper to myself. “I wanted to tell you.”
I gaze into his eyes. There is a hint of recklessness in them. The ability to put everything on one throw of the dice. I wonder why I never noticed it before. “So why didn’t you?”
“I was afraid. I didn’t want you to love me less. I love you so much, Star.” “Who do we owe this money to?”
Something flashes in his eyes. “You don’t owe anyone, Star. It’s me and only me, who owes this debt.”
“No, everything that happens to you, happens to us.” My voice sounds louder, more secure. I can already feel my backbone straightening with steely determination to make it right. I’m like my Nan. When bad things happen, I pick myself up, dust myself off, and I’m ready to carry on with the journey. Yes, it’s a setback to my lovely plans, but we’ll work through it. We’ll get professional help for Nigel to beat his addiction. We’ll get back on our feet in time.
“We’ll sell this house. There must be more than enough equity in it by now to cover that debt,” I say. He drops his eyes guiltily.
“What?”
“There’s no equity in it,” he says quietly.
“How can that be? We’ve had it for five years.” He looks at me beseechingly. “I remortgaged it.” “You remortgaged it without telling me?” I gasp. He drops his eyes again and nods slowly. “Christ, Nigel.”
“I know. I know. I fucked up.”
I just cannot believe what I am hearing. “What about our savings account? We still have that. Right?” “No.” His voice is so quiet it is a whisper.
My hand flies up to cover my mouth. “The apartment you bought for me in Spain?” He screws his eyes shut. “Sold,” he says in an anguished voice.
“How could you sell it? It was in my name?”
“I forged your signature,” he admits, looking ashamed.
I press my palms to my temples. This can’t be happening. Closing my eyes, I take slow breaths through my mouth. When I open my eyes, I will wake up from this nightmare. In, out. In, out. I lift my eyelids. My husband is staring at me with that I’ve-been-a-naughty-little-puppy-but-please-don’t- scold-me-cause-that’s-what-we-puppies-do expression. I feel sick. I should be angry, but I must be too shocked, because I don’t feel anything.
He reaches out a hand and touches mine, and I feel that first flare of boiling rage. He refused to let me work because he said it was his job to take care of his woman, and look what he has done. I snatch my hand away.
“Jesus, Star. Don’t pull away from me.”
“What the hell did you expect from me after you tell me you’ve been living a life of deceit, and you’ve gambled away every last bit of wealth we had?”
“Maybe if I thought you would have reacted differently I would have told you about my problem sooner.”
My eyes widen. “Are you trying to blame me for your gambling habit?” I explode incredulously.
“Of course not, but if you weren’t such a paragon of virtue it might have been easier to confide in you.”
I gasp at the unfair accusation.
“Do you know how difficult it is to confess an addiction to someone as blameless and perfect as you are? You have no vices, no weaknesses, no bad habits at all. You don’t drink, you don’t swear, you don’t smoke, you don’t gamble, you don’t tell lies, fuck, you don’t even watch porn.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “You selfish bastard. How dare you blame me for being a good and loyal wife to you?”
He opens his mouth to argue and I raise my hand. “I don’t want your money. You earned it. You want to blow it all away. Go ahead, but we were supposed to have a baby next year.”
He starts as if he has completely forgotten that we’ve earmarked next year as the time we start our family. As if he doesn’t know that I’ve already began to paint the little bedroom next to ours yellow.
“I gave up my independence because you said I’d want for nothing. You promised we could start a family next year. How could you do this to me?” I shout.
“I’m sorry, Star, I never meant to hurt you.”
“Well, you have, Nigel. You’ve stuck a knife in my heart.”
“Hell, Star. I know I messed up bad, but I’m trying to be straight with you now. You’re right, I was a selfish bastard. You’re too good for me. I know, I don’t deserve you, but please. I don’t want to argue with you. I don’t blame you at all. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I want to tell you everything. No more lies. No more secrets. Please, Star. Everyone deserves a second chance.”
I try to rein in my growing anger. Instead of recriminations I should be trying to help. We need to talk. To work this out. This is bigger than my hurt or anger. “Okay, let’s talk.”
“You have no idea how fucking sorry I am. I wanted to just end it all last night.”
I take a deep breath. The shock of his words makes me feel almost light-headed. He actually thought about ending it all. Leaving me here to carry on without him. I look at him with new eyes. In a few minutes, my whole world has been turned inside out, everything I believed has been proved to be lies.
He looks back at me sadly. “But I knew that I would only be leaving you in a bigger mess because the money has to be paid back. One way or another.”
“Who do you owe the money to, Nigel?” My voice sounds distant, calm, rational, even though I feel as if we are standing at the roof edge of a sky-scraper in high winds.
He pauses and clasps his hands so tightly, his knuckles become white. When he speaks, there is an odd expression in his eyes. “Nikolai Smirnov.”
My brow furrows. “Who is he?”
His eyes narrow. “You don’t know him?” “Why would I know him?” I ask, confused.
His mouth turns down at the corners. It’s a strangely sulky expression, and my brain notes it with surprise.
“You tell me,” he says.
“Stop playing games, Nigel. What the hell are you talking about?” I ask, barely holding onto my temper.
“Maybe you know him by a different name? Russian, tall, at least six feet three or four. Broad, very fit
—”
I shake my head impatiently and interrupt him. “I don’t meet men. You know that. Why would you think I would know him, anyway?”
He makes a dismissive movement with his head. “Forget it. He’s the owner of the gambling club I was telling you about before. I’ve met cold bastards before, but he fucking takes the cake.”
My eyes widen. “Did he threaten you?”
His voice is bitter and a touch frightened “Yes, he wants his money. I told him I’d get it somehow. I just needed a bit of time, but he had his men grab me and hold me down on a smelly pool table. You don’t know how terrified I was. He came close to breaking my hands with a fucking hammer.”
At that strange, surreal moment, I feel no love in my heart for my husband. He seems like a stranger. Someone I never knew. Someone who just smashed my wonderful life into a thousand pieces. “Why didn’t he, then?”
He looks down at the table and his hands become fists. “Because …” That coldness in my heart grows. “Because what, Nigel?”
Tears crawl down his cheeks. “Because he wants you.”
StarHis words don’t make sense. My whole body feels like it is on fire. I’m an ordinary girl. I live an ordinary life. All of this is unbelievable stuff. Stuff of gangster movies.“He wants you,” he repeats glumly. “Me? What do you mean me?”He covers his face. “Fuck, Star. Do I have to spell it out to you? He wants you … your body.” I frown. “My body? Why would the owner of a gambling club want my body?”“You don’t need me to tell you why.”“But he doesn’t know who I am. I could be a frumpy, middle-aged housewife for all he knows.”His brow furrows. “I’m beginning to think that someone is jealous of me. They know that the most important thing in my life is you, and the best way to destroy me is to get to you.”Nigel goes on talking, but I stop hearing him.“He didn’t use the hammer because you agreed to let him have me, didn’t you?” I ask, my body crawling with revulsion.“No,” he denies, looking at me with wide eyes, and shaking his head vigorously.“Oh, my God. You damn coward. Th
STARWhen I get out of the shower Nigel is waiting for me in the bedroom. I walk past him without looking at him and go to my wardrobe.I open my underwear drawer. “Have you called him?” “No.”“I’ve got to pick up Nan now. I’ll be back this afternoon. Please make that call by then.” “We need to talk,” he says.I let my towel drop and pull on my panties. “No, we don’t.” “Our marriage …”“Shame you didn’t think about it while you were happily gambling away everything we have,” I spit. He walks towards me. “Please, Star.”In the mirror, I see him standing behind me. His hand reaches out, and I watch transfixed, as his fingers caress my breast. His hand is a few shades darker than my skin.The image is erotic.I carry on watching him. Surprised at how I feel absolutely nothing. He slides around to the front of me and latches his mouth onto my nipple. I look down at him suckling at my breast. Like a … vampire. He looks up and our eyes meet. The expression in my face makes him freeze. He pu
Star “Wanna do breakfast?” Rosa, my best friend, asks. I’ve know her since we were in primary school, and she’s always taken it upon herself to look out for me. She doesn’t sound quiteawake yet.“Yes,” I say automatically. “What’s up?”“Nothing.” “Bullshit.”“What makes you so sure something’s up?” I ask. “Let’s call it tone.”“I’ll tell you when I see you.” “But you’re all right?”“Yes.”“Sure?” she insists. “Sure.” “Lucianos?” “Okay.”“Can you get there in twenty minutes?” “I can get there in ten,” I tell her.“See you in ten, then.”As I park the car it starts pouring down with rain so I hold my bag over my head and run into the café. As I stand inside the doorway brushing my hands down my light jacket, I spot Rosa. You cannot miss her.She is stick-thin with flaming red hair cut into a smooth bob. She is wearing scarlet lipstick and what looks like a lace
Star I gasp. “That is low. Even for you, Rosa. Nigel is absolutely devastated. You would be shocked if I told you what his original plan to sort out this mess was.” Rosa folds her arms and looks at me steadily. “Be good enough to share his brilliant plan with me.”“He was going to arrange for an accident … for himself so that I could collect on his life insurance money.”Even saying the words is painful to me, but Rosa bursts out laughing. “And you believed him?”The way she laughs makes me feel foolish, but I straighten my spine. Rosa can’t be objective about Nigel. Until this morning, Nigel has always been good to me. “Yes, I did. You should have seen the state he was in this morning.”“I love you, Star, but honestly, when it comes to Nigel you are just unbelievably naive. I mean, if I hadn’t met you before you got entangled with him, I would have written you off as an irredeemable bimbo. You think the su
Star When I get back home, Nigel is in the front room slumped on the sofa. The atmosphere is tense and strange, and there is an open bottle of whiskey on the coffee table. “You switched your phone off,” he says, standing up and coming to me. His hair is ruffled and his face is pale and stressed. I’ve never seen him look so unhappy and depressed. “Why?”“I didn’t want to speak to anybody.” My voice is wooden. “Where have you been?”“Out,” I say briefly.There is a flash of something in his eyes. “Where?”I want to say, none of your business, but I can’t. This is my Nigel. My hero for so many years. Turns out my idol has feet of clay, but he is still my husband. “I met Rosa for coffee,” I reply, as I brush past him to go upstairs.“Did you tell her about me?” he asks in a strange tone.I turn around to look at him, surprised that he’d even ask. “Yes.” “I bet she was delighted,” he says bitter
Star I lay down on our unmade bed and close my eyes. I didn’t make it this morning so it has remained unmade. I think of Nigel opening my legs last night, and my stomach churns at the thought of giving my body to a complete stranger. I clench my hands and take a deep Then I dig my phone out of my bag and call my nan. I keep up the fiction that I’m not feeling well and she agrees to go see my dad alone tomorrow. In fact, she suggests that I take the whole weekend off. I thank her, then call my mother.“Hi, Mum,” I say quietly. I can hear the sound of a TV in the background. “Nigel said you were not feeling very well. What’s wrong with you?” “Probably one of those flu things.”“Well, that’s what you get for going to hospital every single day. Oh, for heaven’s sake anyone would think that man was dying the way you keep running to his bedside.”“What did you want, Mum?”“Can’t I just call my daughter withou
The chauffeur nods and waits while I slide into the seat. Soft classical music is playing and the car smells of expensive perfume. The door closes, and the man walks around to his side of the car. I turn my head to look at the windows of my house. At the living room window, I see Nigel standing there staring at me. There is something so lost and forlorn about the defeated droop to his shoulders that I bleed inside.The driver gets into his seat and the car starts to move. I stare out of the window seeing nothing. All I can think of is Nigel standing at the window. As the car leaves Earls Court and takes the M4 out of London, I start to pay attention. We make steady progress until the car smoothly joins the M25. There is more traffic here, but less than twenty minutes later we take the slip road out of the motorway. After a little while, I see signposts for Virginia Water, Surrey. I’ve been there once. One of Nigel’s friends lives on the Wentwo
NIKOLAIShe stares at me in shock, her beautiful eyes wide, her mouth parted, and a river of primitive possessiveness rushes through my veins. I’ve got her. She’s mine now. “Did you … are you Nikolai?” she gasps.“If he’s not me, then he’s one lucky bastard,” I say. Her mouth snaps shut and she squares her shoulders. “Would you like a drink?” I ask.“No thank you,” she says stiffly.I smile and walk to the liquor cabinet.“Sorry, but can we please get on with this?” she shoots. Her eyes are combative. She wants to take control of a situation where she knows she has none.“We already have. You are here under my roof, are you not?” Her eyes regard me with hostility. “Why did you bring me here?” “I wanted you,” I say simply, watching her.Her dowdy appearance cannot disguise her unique beauty. Her long golden hair tightly pulled back only serves to highlight her flawless skin. Even in this most