winning smile. It never fails. I know he’ll be flattered that we are talking so frankly. He’ll hand me his loyalty on a silver plate. In case he thinks I’m callous, I add, ‘I plan to do my best by her.’
‘How good is your best, Scott?’
‘In my career, my best is excellent. In my love life, it’s piss poor.’
‘And which is Fern part of?’ I can’t answer that. I’m undecided and that lack of clarity is not something either of us can celebrate. ‘Do you think you are ready to settle down?’ he probes.
‘Settle down is such a depressing term. I don’t want to settle for anything,’ I say awkwardly. I still want to reassure him. ‘She’s going to be OK, Ben. I’m going to give her what she wants.’
‘Which is?’
‘Marriage, babies, a home. A crack at being extraordinary. I can give her more than she could ever have imagined, even in her wildest dreams. And I don’t just mean
‘How do you know about the ultimatum? Did she tell you?’
‘No, she doesn’t know I know. She’s never talked to me about it. I guess she doesn’t consider it her finest hour.’
‘It wasn’t.’
‘Saadi told me. After Fern delivered her deadline Adam was forever procrastinating with his crew. Everyone working at the Wembley gig knew all about the fact that his girl wanted to get engaged on her birthday. He didn’t deserve her. He’s a loser.’
‘You know, he isn’t such a loser,’ says Ben carefully.
‘He let her go,’ I reply firmly.
‘How could he have fought you?’
‘He could have acted before she’d even met me.’
Ben pauses, then sighs and says, ‘He had. He’d bought a house.’
‘What?’ That’s news.
Ben looks agitated, torn. ‘She doesn’t know. I never told her. I’ve often wondered whether I should have but what would the point be now? I only know because Adam let it slip the day before her birthday. He wanted it to be a big surprise. His plan was to take her there after the Friday night gig. He had the keys; he was going
‘Fuck.’
‘Yeah. That’s what he thought.’
57. Fern
The lawyer spends hours trying to explain to me the ins and outs of the weighty tome. It’s very dull but she reassures me that I am getting a generous deal. After only two years’ marriage or the production of a baby, whichever is sooner, I have a good chance of walking away with half Scott’s enormous fortune. The lawyer seems really happy with the arrangement. I mumble that if she’s so happy with it then perhaps she should sign it.
‘Oh, don’t be silly, Ms Dickson. This is a marvellous contract. Drawn up by the industry’s finest but very fair. No need to be petulant. You’re marrying a very generous man.’
‘And he can prove his generosity when he divorces me,’ I mutter sulkily.
‘Providing you’re faithful,’ she cautions.
I haven’t asked a single question but suddenly one drops from the sky. ‘What about his fidelity?’
‘If you look at page 92, clause 13.4, subsection 6, item 2, addendum 3, you’ll note that his infidelity is covered.’
‘Covered? In what way?’
‘In so much as his infidelity is recognized as grounds for divorce but you would not receive any extra recompense, over and above that stated on pages 45 to 71, with particular reference to clauses 17 to 17.9, subsections 4.2 to 4.7.’
‘In English?’
‘I think your fiance’s lawyers are anticipating infidelity.’
‘
‘At least acknowledging that it’s a very real possibility and therefore they’re not prepared to offer you extra compensation if that were indeed the case. But, as I say, the divorce terms are particularly generous anyway so you have little to worry about.’
Right.
‘The important thing to remember is that you don’t get a penny if you ever talk about any aspect of your relationship to the press. That’s covered in multiple clauses. That’s watertight.’
As if I would. How can Scott think that of me? I pick up the hefty contract and as much of my dignity as I can scrape off the floor and go to find Mark.
He’s in the second reception room. It’s one of my favourite rooms; south-facing, it’s always warm and bright. It’s definitely sunnier than my mood. Exasperated, I demand, ‘Can you explain page 92, clause 13.4, subsection 6, item – oh, you know what I’m talking about.’
Mark, Saadi and Joy look up from their work. They’re pawing over press cuttings. Every magazine and paper in the western world finds the wedding plans fascinating. There are bets running on the number of bridesmaids I’m having (ten; including three of Scott’s celeb friends I haven’t yet met), the colour they’ll be wearing (pink, although I haven’t told Jess that yet). Tabloids are battling to discover where the wedding is going to take place but the venue is
Mark stares at me and then turns to Saadi.
‘The infidelity clause,’ she prompts. Why am I not surprised she’d know the finer details of the pre-nup by heart?
‘Oh, yeah. Well, that had to be included for obvious reasons.’
‘Obvious reasons?’ I ask. I hope my voice isn’t as shaky as my legs; I’m practically dancing a jig.
‘Don’t get us wrong. We adore Scott and want him to be happy. We’d like to believe that the pair of you will last for ever. But…’
He leaves the ‘but’ hanging in the air. It’s damning enough to have sucked all the pleasure out of the day. I’m unsure who he means by ‘us’. The record company, the band members, Scott’s mum? I have no idea, but I suddenly feel weighed down by the sense that there is a silent army behind Scott and no one in my corner. It shouldn’t matter. We’re not at war. But it does matter. I stay silent and Mark is forced to fill in the gap.
‘Well, you know how it is. Scott gets infatuated with things. With people. Spellbound almost. We’ve seen it before. And then there’s the danger he might act on that infatuation. We’re just protecting him against any possible indiscretions he might succumb to.’
Mark, to his credit, sounds embarrassed that he has to tell me this. I’ve never seen Mark stirred before. It depresses me that he gives this subject so much weight.
‘It’s nothing to be worried about. Even when he does act –’ Mark struggles to find the right word ‘– imprudently, then the interest dries up quickly enough. On average his obsessions last twenty-four hours.’
‘We’re all stunned that you’ve lasted a month,’ says Joy bitchily.
I shoot her a filthy look and turn back to Mark. His gaze bounces around the room, resting on the drapes, the rug, the smooth obelisk ornaments; anywhere other than me. To date, I’ve been overwhelmed by the tastefulness of all that I am surrounded by. Now the room looks vulgar. It is quiet and the sun beats through the windows; I feel suffocated.
‘Even if I accept that Scott has fallen prey to these fleeting obsessions in the past, what we have is quite different. What we have is called love,’ I say firmly.
Mark stands up and walks towards me. Awkwardly he puts both his hands on my shoulders and faces me. It’s the first time I can remember him deliberately touching me. It ought to be a comfort but it’s not.
‘I’m not saying he wants to have sex with anyone else, right now.’ Well, that’s a relief since he isn’t even having sex with me yet. ‘I’m saying somewhere along the line he might want to. Sex is just another compulsion for him. He can’t really help himself.’
