Excerpt...
Chapter 1
‘I
want a divorce!’
Nicole’s
cry hung in the air as she slammed out of the house. She flung herself into the
driver’s seat of her car, an Audi TT parked adjacent to its twin. After
substantial and unnecessary, but therapeutic revving, the car shot out onto the
road as Tom appeared at the front door, shouting something Nicole couldn’t and
didn’t want to hear.
Half a mile along the road towards
Bath, she pulled into a layby and, leaning her head on the steering wheel,
sobbed. A
few minutes of unrestrained tears later, Nicole reached for a tissue from her
handbag and, using the vanity mirror for guidance, wiped the black streaks of
mascara from her face and blew her reddened nose. A few deep breaths helped restore her
breathing, but her head continued thumping from the release of emotion.
I thought crying was supposed to
be good for you, but I’ve never felt so awful. Well, not since I broke my leg skiing when
I was twelve. In a rare moment of
clarity she wondered which was worse – a broken leg or an unfaithful
husband. It was a close call. Reclining
the car seat, Nicole stretched out her tall, slim frame, allowing her clenched
muscles to finally relax. What a mess!
It had all started when she wanted to order a
food delivery from Sainsbury’s and couldn’t find her credit card. After calling out to Tom if it was okay to
use his – being a joint card – Nicole took the answering grunt from upstairs to
mean a yes. As she opened his wallet a bill fell out.
Picking it up, the heading caught
her eye; ‘The Stratford Manor Hotel, Warwick Road, Stratford-upon-Avon’. Odd, when did Tom stay there? Opening it out Nicole saw it was a receipted
bill for two nights in the name of ‘Mr and Mrs Oxford’ dated for the previous
weekend. Nicole held onto the chair as
the realisation hit – he was still being unfaithful. Tom had assured her he’d
got it out of his system and was now a devoted husband. Except it appeared he wasn’t.
Nicole’s feet felt as if encased in
lead boots as she went upstairs to the bedroom.
As she flung open the door to the designer decorated room which, at
least for her, had represented love and harmony, Tom was shrugging into his
jeans. He was freshly showered after his
run and his light brown hair stood up glistening and spiky.
Moving slowly into the room she
threw the bill onto the cream velvet bed-throw.
Tom stiffened and looked up, the turned down mouth and contracted
eyebrows offering the mournful look of a penitent.
‘Please, darling, it’s not what you
think…’
‘Oh, what is it then? Entertaining a new writer, perhaps?’ Nicole’s
voice sounded harsh, even to her own ears.
As a television producer Tom often met with programme writers. But meetings were not usually conducted in a
hotel bed, or so she assumed.
Tom opened his mouth but nothing
came out. Unheard of for him.
‘Didn’t you tell me you were attending
a conference in Birmingham last weekend?
At a city centre hotel?’
‘Yes, but I. . .I wanted to get away
from everyone. That’s why I moved to
Stratford.’ He must have seen the disbelief on Nicole’s face as he went on, ‘It
wasn’t anything important, really it wasn’t, darling. It’s you I love, you know that, don’t you?’
He reached out to Nicole but she
stepped back from him, a coldness clutching at her heart. The thought of being
touched by those adulterous hands made her feel sick. Anger at his betrayal
triggered off a flow of adrenaline, propelling her through the bedroom door and
down the stairs, giving herself time to grab her bag and car keys before
slamming out of the house.
Thinking
now of her parting shot at Tom, Nicole asked herself if she really did want a
divorce. They appeared to have everything. Both successful in their media
careers – she being an investigative journalist for the same television channel
– beautiful, renovated farmhouse near Bath; exotic holidays when they found the
time; and no children to restrict them.
She fell madly in love with Tom
twelve years ago, when they’d met at the radio station where they then worked.
He seemed equally smitten and proposed two years later with a huge diamond
solitaire.
Nicole sighed as she thought back to
those early days when the world was at their feet. Both dynamic and ambitious,
they progressed into television to further their careers. And there Tom met
temptation.
Another deep sigh escaped her lips
as she lay back with her eyes closed. Her marriage mirrored her life generally
– glamour and glitter on the surface but no real substance.
It was too depressing for words and
Nicole knew that something needed to change if she was to love and respect
herself again. It was clear Tom had not
changed and, at thirty-seven, it wasn’t likely to happen. At least not until he lost his looks or his
power. Or both. Nicole wasn’t proud that she’d been seduced by great sex, an
expensive lifestyle and the kudos of being not only a “name” in her own right,
but also of being married to an even bigger one in media. Everything came too easily for her, beginning
with the very comfortable and spoiled upbringing of an only child in Jersey. The only thing to have marred the idyll had
been her adoption. She’d known forever and, as a child, it hadn’t bothered her.
But the problems building up in her marriage had led to feelings of discontent
and unease. Unease in herself – who on earth was she really? Nicole knew she
wasn’t like her parents, which was natural. She wanted to know who she was, who
she really took after. That might
help her to change the person she’d become and didn’t actually much like.
Okay, pay-back time. Nicole squared her shoulders as she sat up
and started the engine before swinging the car round to face the house from
which she’d driven so furiously what felt a lifetime ago.
‘We
need to talk,’ she said, coming into the kitchen and finding Tom slumped in a
chair.
‘Darling! Thank God you’re back! Please, please let’s
start again. I swear I’ll never so much
as look at another woman if only you say you forgive me and will stay.’
He certainly looked miserable. She
took in his tousled, uncombed hair, the pulled-down corners of his mouth and
the blue eyes missing their usual sparkle.
Tom rose to meet her but she shook
her head and motioned for him to stay seated.
His gaze was wary as Nicole sat opposite him at the scrubbed pine table
at which they hardly ever ate together, so busy were their respective
schedules.
Nicole took a deep breath, willing
herself to stay calm and not let emotion sabotage her hastily rehearsed speech.
‘I do want a divorce, Tom…’
‘No, you can’t, darling! Let me…’
‘Please let me finish! Then you can have your
say. What’s happened is merely a symptom
of what’s wrong with our marriage. And, I now realise, has been for some
time. I really believe we’ve stayed
together for the wrong reasons and it’s time to think of the future.’
She cleared her throat. ‘We… didn’t
really talk about having a family but it could be that I’ll want children one
day.’
Nicole leant on the table as if it
would give her the strength she needed to continue.
‘But I’d want a stable, happy home
for my child and that’s not guaranteed with you. I’m not sure I can trust you.
Not now,’ her voice fell to little more than a whisper as she plunged the knife
into their ailing marriage.
Tom’s eyes widened and his mouth
opened wide in panic as he sought to save the relationship which had been his
rock for so long. He reached out to grab Nicole’s hands but she pulled them out
of his way, letting them twist together under the table.
‘Please, darling. I know I’ve behaved badly and have been an
absolute idiot. I have no excuse. You’ve been a brilliant wife and we’ve
enjoyed such a great time together. Remember that trip to Paris? And that time
in Venice? Surely you don’t mean to throw away everything we’ve shared!’ He
flung out his arms.
Nicole couldn’t bear to look at him
and kept her gaze focussed on a spot half-way down his navy T-shirt.
‘We’ve achieved so much together –
our careers, this house; doesn’t this mean anything to you? We’re the Golden Couple of television! A team
– and a damn good one!’
She knew that in some ways Tom was
right. They were a well-respected
team at work. Admired and envied by those clambering up the ladder behind them.
And she knew that if they were no longer a couple then she’d have to start
again somewhere else. It would be impossible to stay at Bristol. A miserable
thought. But her reputation would be enough to open doors elsewhere. At the
moment she was tired, tired of the cheating and lying at home and tired of the
pressure at work to strive forever upwards.
She raised her eyes slowly, finally
letting them rest on his, steeling herself against the look of pain she saw
there.
‘It’s no good, Tom. Maybe this was meant to happen. For my part,
I need to discover what I really want from my life. Yes, we’ve had good
times, wonderful times. But that’s going
back years. When was the last time we took a romantic break together? When did we last laugh together?’
Tom looked stricken. Even she didn’t
remember so he certainly wasn’t likely to.
She ran a hand through her expertly
cut bob and went on, ‘We’re not having any fun now, Tom. And material
possessions aren’t making either of us happy, are they?’
Nicole waved her hand around the
Smallbone kitchen which once represented her idea of happiness. She remembered
the line in the company’s advertisement which had attracted her – “A Kitchen
for Life”. Hmm, pity they couldn’t offer a marriage for life!
‘Please, Nicole, let’s not rush into
anything. I can understand that you’re hurt and angry but that’s not the time
to make major decisions. How about a trial separation? To give you time to see
what you really want? I know I don’t want to lose you but I’m happy to
give you space, if that’s what you want.’ Tom’s eyes pleaded with her from the
other side of the table.
Nicole thought for a moment. Perhaps
they both needed time to think. ‘Okay, I’ll agree to a separation, let’s say
six months.’ She noticed the hope flicker in his eyes. ‘But I’m not promising
there’ll be no divorce. I still feel that’s the way to go. But I can’t leave my
job at a moment’s notice, either. So I’ll carry on for the two months left in
my contract and then go. Might take a sabbatical to keep my options open. And I
want you to move out. You could get a flat in the city.’
Tom took a deep breath which was
part groan.
‘Yes, if that’s what you want. Do
you want me to leave today?’
She heard the despair in his voice
and anger hardened her resolve.
‘Yes! It’s going to be bad enough
bumping into you at work so I need to be here on my own. You can move back once
I go away.’
His eyes widened. ‘Where will you go?’
‘To Spain, to see my parents.
They’ll be back from their cruise by then and I can have a little time with
them at the villa.’
‘Only a little time? So will you
come back here afterwards?’ he asked, brightening.
Nicole shook her head. ‘No, probably
to Jersey. I’m going to ask Mum for help in tracing my mother. My real mother,’ she said, her eyes
unfocused.
Giveaway...
The giveaway on this tour is either 2 x paperback copies of Dangerous Waters (UK only) or 2 x ecopies of Dangerous Waters (International). The draw will be random. Click the link below to enter.
