know…as amicable as possible. But if this is the attitude you’re going to take…” She gestures at the T-shirt.
I’m missing something here. In fact, I’m missing everything.
“What do you mean, ‘we’?” I say.
Venetia gazes at me as though suspecting a trick. Then, very slowly, her expression changes. She exhales and rubs her brow. “Oh God,” she says, almost as though to herself.
I feel a thud of foreboding deep inside. A kind of hot nausea is slowly rising through me. She can’t mean what I—
She can’t.
The noise and chatter of the bar has dwindled to a rushing in my ears. I swallow several times, trying to keep a grip on myself. I know I thought something might be going on. I know I talked about it with Suze and Jess and Danny.
But all of a sudden, standing here now, I realize I didn’t ever really think it was true. Not really. Not really.
“What are you saying?” I can’t quite control my voice. “Exactly.”
A waiter is passing with a tray of drinks, and Venetia puts out a hand to stop him.
“Vodka tonic on the rocks, please,” she says. “Straightaway. Anything for you, Becky?”
“Just…tell me.” My eyes burn into hers. “Tell me what you’re talking about.”
The waiter moves away and Venetia thrusts a hand through her hair. She looks a little ruffled by my reaction. “Becky…this was always going to be difficult. You should know, Luke feels terrible about what’s been going on. He really cares about you. He’ll be livid that I’ve spoken to you, even.”
For a few moments I can’t reply. I’m just staring at her, my whole body tensed up. I feel like I’ve swung into some parallel universe.
“What are you saying?” I repeat huskily.
“He really doesn’t want to hurt you.” Venetia leans closer, and I get a sickening waft of Allure. “As he keeps saying…he made a mistake. Pure and simple. He married the wrong person. But that’s not your fault.”
Something starts stabbing at my chest. For a moment I’m not sure I can speak, for shock.
“Luke didn’t marry the wrong person,” I manage at last. “He married the right person. He loves me, OK? He loves me.”
“You met right after he split up from Sacha, didn’t you?” Venetia nods, even though I haven’t replied. “He told me all about it. You were a refreshing change, Becky. You make him laugh. But you’re hardly on the same level. You don’t really understand what he’s about.”
“I do.” My throat isn’t working properly. “I totally understand Luke! We went round the world on our honeymoon—”
“Becky, I’ve known Luke since he was nineteen.” She cuts across me, invincible, inexorable. “I know him. What we had at Cambridge was powerful. It was intoxicating. He was my first real love. I was his. We were like Odysseus and Penelope. When we saw each other again in my consulting room…” She breaks off. “I’m sorry. But we both knew, instantly. It was just a matter of when and where.”
My legs seem to have turned to dust. My face is numb. I’m clutching my stupid feathers, trying to find a pithy, witty…something. But my head feels like a heavy lump of flannel. I have a horrible feeling there are tears on my cheeks.
“It’s been appalling timing.” Venetia takes her drink from the waiter. “Luke didn’t want to say anything until after the baby came. But I think you deserve to know the truth.”
“We went looking at prams together yesterday.” My voice comes out thick and rushed. “How come he went to look at prams, then?”
“Oh, he’s excited about the baby!” says Venetia in surprise. “He wants to see his child as much as possible after…” She pauses delicately. “He wants the whole thing to be amicable. But obviously that depends on you.”
I can’t listen to her sweet, poisonous voice anymore. I have to get away.
“You’re wrong, Venetia,” I say, struggling clumsily into my coat. “You’re deluded. Luke and I have a strong, loving marriage! We laugh, and we talk, and we have sex….”
Venetia just looks at me with infinite pity. “Becky, Luke’s just playing along to keep you happy. You don’t have a marriage. Not anymore.”
I don’t wait to say good-bye to Danny. I head straight out of the bar on stumbling legs and hail a taxi. All the way home, Venetia’s words are going round and round in my brain, until I want to throw up.
It can’t be true, I keep telling myself. It can’t be.
Of course it can, a small voice replies. It’s what you suspected all along.
I let myself into the flat and immediately hear Luke moving around in the kitchen.
“Hi!” he calls out.
My throat’s too tight to answer. I feel paralyzed. At last Luke pops his head round the door. He’s already in dress trousers and a crisp Armani dress shirt. His bow tie is loose around his neck, ready for me to tie it like I always do.
I stare at him wordlessly. Are you leaving me for Venetia? Is our whole marriage a sham?
“Hi, darling.” He takes a sip of wine.
I feel like I’m standing on a cliff edge. The moment I speak, it will all be over.
“Becky? Sweetheart?” Luke takes a few steps toward me, looking puzzled. “Are you OK?” He peers curiously at the feathers.
I can’t do it. I can’t ask him. I’m too frightened of what I’ll hear.
“I’ll go and get ready,” I whisper, unable to meet his eye. “We need to leave soon.”
I head to the bedroom and strip off, bundling Danny’s T-shirt into the bottom of the wardrobe where Luke will never look. Then I take a quick shower, hoping it’ll make me feel better. But it doesn’t. As I catch sight of myself in the mirror, wrapped in a towel, I look scared and pale.
Come on, Becky. Chin up. Think glam. Think Catherine Zeta-Jones. I get out my slinky new midnight-blue dress and slip it on, thinking this at least will cheer me up. But somehow the dress doesn’t look as good as it did before. It’s not clingy, it’s puckering. I haul at the zipper but it won’t go up.
It’s too small.
My perfect dress is too small. I must have grown some more. My bump, or my thighs, or somewhere. My whole body’s suddenly got huge.
I can feel my chin wobbling, but desperately clamp my lips shut. I am not going to cry. I wrench off the dress as best I can and head to the wardrobe to find something else. And then I glimpse myself in the mirror, and freeze. I’m waddling.
I’m a white, fat, waddling…monstrosity.
I sit down on the bed, feeling dizzy. My head is pounding and there are spots before my eyes. No wonder he chose Venetia.
“Becky, are you OK?” Luke is at the door, surveying me in alarm. I hadn’t even noticed him.
“I…” Tears are blocking my throat. “I’m…”
“You don’t look well. Why don’t you lie down? I’ll bring you some water.”
As I watch him go, Venetia’s voice is in my head like a coiled snake. He’s playing along to keep you happy.
“Here we are.” Luke’s voice makes me jump. He hands me a glass of water and two chocolate biscuits. “I think you should rest for a while.”
I take the glass without drinking. Suddenly everything feels like acting. He’s acting. I’m acting.
“What about the reunion?” I say at last. “We need to go soon.”
“We can be late. Or we can miss it. Darling, have some water, lie down….”
Reluctantly I take a sip of water, then put my head on the pillow. Luke tucks the duvet over me and quietly leaves the room.
I don’t know how long I lie there for. It feels like about thirty seconds. Or six hours. Afterward I work out it was about twenty minutes.
And then I hear the voices. His voice. And her voice. Approaching down the corridor.
“…hope you don’t mind…”
“No, absolutely. Luke, you did the right thing to call. So, how’s the patient?”
