‘Please, Rupert, don’t just look at me like that,’ hot tears burn my eyes, ‘will you just tell me what he said?’ I blink, and a fat tear slides over my bottom lashes.
‘He said that the two of you had an affair. That you worked for him, seduced him, and then when he told you he didn’t want you anymore you turned into a psychopath. Stalking him, breaking into his house.’
‘Oh my God.’ My heart is pounding fit to burst out of my chest, and that old familiar sick feeling that I will always associate with Harry makes my stomach roll. ‘Do you believe him?’
Rupert says nothing for a moment.
‘Rupert, do you believe him?’ My voice rises and Rupert leans forward, grasping both my hands in his. ‘Do you honestly believe that I am capable of that?’
‘I told him that that isn’t the Emily I know,’ Rupert says, squeezing my hands so tightly I can feel the sharp ridge of my diamond engagement ring cutting into my skin. ‘I didn’t even want to meet with him, but I wanted to tell him to back off, if it is him who has been hassling you.’ He pauses. ‘Do you want to tell me the full story? I think I deserve to know.’
I nod, swiping at the tears on my cheeks. Maybe once I have told Rupert the full story we can move on, and Harry won’t hold any sort of threat anymore. ‘I should have told you before, I’m sorry. It was just too painful to talk about. Harry’s right – I did know he was married when I met him.’
‘OK,’ Rupert says, but I can see the look of disappointment on his face, and I feel a hot dart of shame.
‘He told me about Liv, his wife. He told me that they were getting a divorce, that he didn’t love her anymore. He was a gentleman at first. He took me to nice places, treated me well. I’d never really had that before, he dazzled me, I guess. He was the big boss, the man everyone in the company looked up to, and here he was, giving all his attention to me.
‘Everything changed after a few months. He became secretive, argumentative. I was walking on eggshells around him all the time. It started small, just harsh words and a light slap every now and again, but as time went on, it got worse, more violent. I had to hide the bruises at work, pretend that I had fallen over again… clumsy old Emily. The day I told him I was leaving him was the day it all came to a head properly. He accused me of taking everything from him – Liv, the kids… even though he hadn’t seen them at all in all the time we were together – and then he dragged me out of bed and put his hands around my throat, and he strangled me until I passed out.’ I let the tears run freely down my cheeks now, and Rupert’s face is filled with horror.
‘I got out as soon as I came round. I found a room with Mags and she helped me put myself back together again. And then I met you.’ I give him a watery smile, the emotion of telling him making me feel wrung out and drained.
‘Jesus, Emily. You should have told me before.’
‘Can you believe I didn’t want to tell you, because I knew Harry was married? I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea about me.’
‘The wrong idea? It’s not 1945, Emily. I’m not a complete tyrant. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me the truth.’
‘I know, I should have told you. Will you forgive me?’ I turn to him, my eyes wide and after a moment’s pause he finally nods.
‘Of course I will. It’s hardly your fault that you were in an abusive relationship. But I need you to be honest with me, always? After Caro…’
‘I don’t want to talk about Caro,’ I say, getting to my feet and moving to his side of the table. ‘I was wrong, the other day. I don’t want to talk about her anymore, this is just about you and me now.’
Rupert gets to his feet, and I wrap my arms around him, raising my mouth to his, moaning softly against his lips as he slides his tongue into my mouth. I can feel him hard against my thigh, and I fumble for his zip as he hikes up my skirt, pushing me back onto the table. I’ll make Rupert forget about Caro, and Harry, and anything that went before.
Later, I am curled up in my usual spot on the sofa reading a crime thriller, as Rupert sits across from me watching some inane TV show with lots of canned laughter. The blinds are closed, the lamp is lit, and for the first time in weeks I feel safe. No one can see in, there is no scent of nectarines hanging in the air. I snuggle into the sofa, rereading the page I’ve already read twice, when my phone buzzes next to me.
Glancing towards Rupert, whose eyes are still fixed on the television screen, I pick up my phone and see I have a message from an unknown number. Instantly, I go cold and any feeling of safety vanishes. I raise my eyes to the blinds, double-checking they are still tightly closed. I debate for a moment whether to just delete the message without reading, but the last time I did that the message was just resent a few minutes later. Rupert looks up in confusion as I get up from the sofa.
‘Just popping to the loo,’ I say, brightly. I hurry into the downstairs loo, flicking on every light as
