Bad Lover Read online

  There was no sender info, just a strange number.

  It was clear Susan was playing dangerously, but would it all catch up with her?

  Susan returned to the room but as Anabel offered her another mojito, Susan placed a hand on her stomach and said, “I’m sorry, babes. My endo is playing up and we’ll have to do this another time. Really sorry.”

  “Oh, dear, so sorry. Didn’t know it was endo.”

  “Yeah, it’s tragic.” Susan sounded suddenly sarcastic and cold.

  Anabel didn’t know how to respond, but the way Susan just spoke to her and made it awkward, it was clear Susan didn’t want any sympathy at all – nor did she especially want to open up the floor for discussion on the matter.

  “Let me notify my car service and I’ll get out of your hair.”

  Anabel grabbed her phone out of her pocket and started texting her driver, Mark.

  He worked for her and was her driver predominantly, but also her employees sometimes used him too whenever they were dashing across town for meetings or to deliver samples or graphics. Sometimes even to attend events, just to be seen for a few minutes wearing one of their designs.

  She was sure that this evening, he didn’t have anything else on, but you never knew.

  Thankfully he replied immediately that he could be there within a few minutes, having hung around the neighbourhood for a while.

  As she was finishing up her text conversation, she looked at Susan out of the corner of her eye and caught Susan chewing her lip, eyes furious and foul.

  “There we go,” Anabel told her brightly, “he’ll be here any minute. Anything you need before I go?”

  Anabel made a point of looking up suddenly to see Susan, and at the exact same moment, Susan’s face spontaneously changed into an expression of discomfort but thanks.

  “It’ll be okay, no worries. I’ll get a hot water bottle and be fine.” Susan smiled but it was a terrifically fake incarnation of a friendly, ‘Please, no, I don’t need your help.’

  Anabel knew Susan wasn’t sick – at least, not tonight.

  That was just an excuse to get rid of her.

  It was obvious Susan was shocked and appalled that her oldest friend was getting married and intending to start a family – all without her, probably. Anabel knew Susan was most likely aggrieved that she was going to do exactly the same thing Susan had done numerous times before: dump her friend for a man and not show up again until it was over. Susan could do as she pleased, Anabel thought, but everyone else had to tow the line when it came to abandoning her in the same way.

  Anabel got confirmation her driver had arrived and smiled tightly. “I’ll see you then. Do let me know if you need anything and we’ll catch up soon.”

  Anabel knew better than to try hug and kiss her untactile friend, instead blowing a kiss and leaving the apartment in a hurry.

  Anabel got to her car downstairs and asked Mark, “Go around the block and then park over the road. I have a feeling about something. Don’t ask me what.”

  Mark, who used to be in the Army and was as solid as they came, looked over his shoulder and grinned.

  “Weird posh people, eh?”

  “Just do as you’re told,” she giggled, as he raised one eyebrow and put the car in gear.

  Let’s see what she’s hiding, Anabel decided.

  They waited across the road for an hour before a taxi loitered in the middle of the road and Susan emerged from her house, sliding into the taxi alone, dressed in a long, black coat. They’d demolished Mark’s emergency supplies and the back seat was strewn with empty crisp packets and crushed coke cans.

  “Want me to follow?” asked Mark.

  “You’ve done this before.”

  “Last time, it wasn’t this much fun,” he laughed.

  “Just, keep your distance,” she said, sinking in her seat though the windows were tinted.

  Mark followed her cab at a good distance and almost lost her once or twice. Eventually they were heading towards the East End and her taxi took a sharp left down an alleyway, but Mark didn’t follow.

  “What… where are we going? She went that way.”

  “Hang on,” Mark said, driving on for a couple of streets before circling back.

  He didn’t indicate to go back down the alleyway, but it was clear her cab driver had stopped down there and was now counting his money, Susan already have exited.

  “What’s… we’re still not heading there…?”

  “It’s a club you don’t want to be visiting,” he said, in his Scottish accent. “I’ve heard things about it.”

  “She’s gone to a club?” Anabel laughed, because she could do nothing else.

  The woman’s life was ridiculous.

  “It’s one of those places you hear about but can never get inside. A dungeon.”

  Her heart started pounding. “No! Not a BDSM club?”

  “Plenty of those, you know? This one, it’s different. It’s… well, I heard it’s not good.”

  She shook her head. “What do you mean, not good? What are you talking about?”

  Anabel, in truth, wasn’t surprised at all that Susan had a kinky side. The woman was a walking secret, after all. What she was more surprised about was that this club apparently had a dark reputation.

  “Well, I heard people have died there, and that’s all I know and all I’m brave enough to say.”

  “So, is my friend in danger or what?”

  Mark’s eyes caught hers as they both looked into the rear-view mirror at the same time.

  “Dressed the way she was, I very much doubt it.”

  “She’s a perpetrator, then?”

  “The rich always are, lovey,” he said, and he took the car in the direction of home.

  Susan just got even more interesting, especially because of the text: Are you coming out to play tonight?

  Anabel was never more glad to be home than when she arrived back that evening, sobered up in more ways than one. Perhaps she would keep her distance from Susan in future. She definitely wasn’t a friend – sacking her off to spend time at some seedy club instead of helping her to celebrate her engagement.

  Isaac was home and though she had eaten a ton of junk food in Mark’s car, she was hungry for something more so she was glad when she smelt his signature dish, spaghetti bolognese.

  “Oh, hey,” he said, when he saw her walk in, “perfect timing. How was drinks?”

  “Fun,” she said, “now I just want to get into something comfy and relax.”

  “Go for it.” He was nursing his spaghetti, dressed casually in baggy joggers and t-shirt, his hair floppier than usual.

  She went upstairs, changed into a flowing skirt and vest top, then came back down to find Isaac sitting at the table waiting for her, steam from the food spiralling up into the air.

  She caught him staring out of the window forlornly, like something was on his mind.

  “Penny for your thoughts,” she said, snapping him out of his reverie, his head turning to appraise her.

  Neither of them took one bite; it was clear he was on the verge of saying something important.

  “You weren’t out with work colleagues, were you?”

  She was shaken, her body trembling in response. “No.”

  “I can always tell when you’re lying.”

  She didn’t know what to say, but if that were true, then had all the other lies she’d told recently been so obvious? Or was it just this one, about her meeting with Susan, that was so obvious?

  “Susan asked me for drinks and I went to see her. I wanted to rub her nose in our engagement.” She avoided his eye, looking out of the window.

  “And that was all?” he asked.

  “Yep. She seemed shocked. Pretended she was ill.”

  He took a deep breath. “So where have you been for the past few hours if she fell ill?”

  She shrugged. “Me and Mark drove around for a while, I needed some space to think. I’m wondering if her shocked reaction is re
ally how I should be feeling right now.”

  His face went white. “Pardon?”

  She knew if she was ever going to be honest, about anything, now was the time. If she didn’t tell him how she felt, she might marry him and end up regretting it – unless he could reassure her somehow that everything was going to work out.

  “Be honest, Isaac,” she breathed, “up until last week, we hadn’t had proper sex in six months. A couple of times you rolled over in the night and we did it, but it had really got bad and you know it. I tried to initiate something romantic a lot of times and you know that. It wasn’t me who went cold, it was you.”

  She was shaking from the horrendous anguish of having to be upfront about something she’d quietly dwelled on for so long.

  He sank in his chair and held his hands in front of him, trying to hide his face from her.

  “I have to make a confession,” he says.

  She didn’t know if she could handle this, but surely it was better than being in the dark?

  “Go on,” she asked, her mouth dry, heart in her throat.

  “Six months ago, the company was about to go bust and it was tough. Really tough. I didn’t want to worry you.”

  She decided she could handle this sort of thing, if that’s what it was, but because he wasn’t looking her in the eye or moving from his hunched position, she knew there was more to it than just work stress.

  “It seems crazy when you look back on times like that, it’s like I had no control of my actions, even though I know I did. I’m not denying how I handled it all was wrong, but when you’re in the eye of the storm, sometimes you can’t see out and into the light.”

  “What are you talking about?” she demanded, heart thudding like mad in her chest.

  “I should’ve talked to you about it but for some reason I didn’t. It was my honest intention not to worry you and anyway, there was a chance we’d pull out of it, but… it was stupid.”

  “You need to get to the point,” she urged coldly.

  “I had a very brief fling with someone in the office,” he muttered under his breath, but she heard every word. Her chin fell to her chest and she finally knew, after all this time, that it hadn’t been anything she’d done. “We were all going through this stuff together but me and Marnie ended up having drinks a few too many times in the bar. We’d spend hours bitching and one time, it ended with us doing stuff we shouldn’t have done. And it was just the once and we both agreed it should never happen again.”

  She felt sick, to her very core, not nauseous, but like a disease had just entered her bloodstream and stirred up something hateful inside of her. To hear him say her name… made it real.

  Susan had been right.

  Isaac had got his.

  Why shouldn’t she get hers?

  When she said nothing, he went onto explain, “We were caught up in this terrible time together and that’s my only way of explaining it, because I’m not excusing it, I’m just explaining it. It was foolish and idiotic and impulsive and influenced by booze. And I swear, it never happened again.”

  “So, why couldn’t you just bury it and carry on as normal?” Now she felt bitter; now she wanted blood.

  “I wish that were possible but unlike some, I do have a conscience. I came close to telling you so many times but I was afraid you would leave me—”

  “So, you only tell me now, when we’re engaged and I’m less likely to end it because I’ll be desperate to save face?”

  “No,” he argued profusely, “no, no. It was the other night, when you came back from meeting Susan, and you seemed to be so forgiving of her even when she’s such an utter bitch and a maniac, and I realised, I should just tell you, that you’d likely forgive me because that’s who you are.”

  She didn’t know what to think, who to believe, how to feel. She should have felt sorry for him, maybe, but he was a millionaire a few times over and he’d have got a job elsewhere, easily. He’d have survived losing his job. She had her business. They’d have managed somehow. It’s just money at the end of the day. Why did he have to go and stick his cock in someone else to make himself feel better?

  “I swear, it is the only time it happened. I never cheated on you before that and I never will again.”

  “I wish you never had at all,” she growled, “and in fact, you might have saved me heartache by not even telling me, if it was just that once and meant so little.”

  He groaned with regret and self-hate, smacking his own head. “I’m sorry. What else can I say or do? I’m sorry. It was never about you. I’ve been… weighed down by guilt. I don’t know. Hating myself. That’s the only way I can rationalise it. I don’t understand myself either.”

  “You’re just the same as all the others.” Even she knew her voice sounded so devoid of emotion.

  He finally looked up, with tears in his eyes, hating himself. “I regret every second. I hate myself. It’s my fault, nobody else’s. It was a huge mistake. But at least I suffer remorse, you know? Clearly, Susan suffers nothing. She feels nothing. I’m not like her. Even if I lose you, at least I’m admitting my mistake now before we get married. Not like her, not… so conniving and cruel. If Adam knew about the extent, the depth of her deception, how would he feel?”

  She had to admit, maybe it was better he was open about it. After all, she’d been half-convinced that having an affair of her own was the solution. Like that’s how the world worked: people hurt one another and tried to go one better to make their own revenge hurt more. Like a terrible merry-go-round you never got off.

  “You’re not getting out of it by pulling her up for being even more terrible.” She wiped tears from her eyes and shook her head.

  “I regret it more than anything and it was a total and utter misjudgement and error, I know that. I’ve struggled and I understand if you hate me, I do.”

  She pushed her chair back and looked down at her feet. “I want to be alone tonight.”

  “Okay.”

  She walked away, went up to the bedroom, shut herself inside and cried herself to sleep.

  She’d known for a while now that hers wasn’t a perfect life, but now she was even more aware of just how imperfect it was.

  When Anabel woke the next day, she knew he’d left the apartment. Didn’t know how, just that he had. Maybe she’d been half-asleep when he left earlier, but she felt his absence at least.

  She didn’t bother to shower, didn’t bother with much make-up. She drank coffee and left the building, meeting Mark by the kerb, climbing into the car in silence. He said nothing but good morning, perhaps wise enough to recognise when a woman wasn’t interested in talking.

  She sat in a meeting and didn’t play any part. Mikey kept looking across the room at her, suspicious. Maybe he was more observant than he seemed, or else he was just a young buck staring at her for other reasons.

  Midmorning, she picked up her phone and dialled Susan.

  “Oh, hello,” she answered.

  “Susan, how are you feeling today?”

  “Checking up on me?”

  “Of course. You seemed very shaken last night. I hope it wasn’t about my news?”

  Susan laughed down the line. “I did tell you, didn’t I? I would hate for you to end up as disappointed as me.”

  Anabel didn’t care for veneers any longer. “I don’t believe Adam treated you badly.”

  “You don’t?” Susan laughed heartily, but Anabel didn’t believe it.

  “I don’t. I don’t. I really don’t.”

  “Well then you must believe I wronged him?”

  “Well, of course you did, Susan,” she gasped, “you admitted it yourself, you cheated on him. Multiple times, if your insinuations are to be believed.”

  Susan would probably throw her head back laughing if they were speaking in person, but instead there was only silence.

  “Why did you do it, Susan?” asked Anabel, trying to understand the mind of a cheater.

  “It’s what men inevitably
do to us, isn’t it? Why not?” came her cold rationalisation.

  Anabel took her turn to offer the silent treatment.

  Then Susan said, “You had it out with him. That’s why you’re so worked up.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Well, I did tell you,” she said. “I warned you, didn’t I? Didn’t I say?”

  There was no laughing, only Susan’s haughty tone of voice.

  “You know what? You come back into my life when it suits you. And now at a time when I need a friend, you’re so celebratory, aren’t you? Happy just to be right.”

  “I’m always right,” Susan admits, “it’s the bane of someone as clever as me. Sorry if I can’t help that. You know that he only wanted to know he was forgiven so that if he does it again, he will be forgiven then, too. That’s the only reason why and you know it.”

  Anabel took a deep breath, her hand shaking as she quickly wiped her face. Her office door was shut and the blinds were all rolled down but knowing Mikey, he’d forget to knock again and come barging in.

  “You’re a bitch, you really are, you know?” she said, teeth chattering.

  “And who made me, hmm? Who made me?” Susan growled. “Listen to me, people are so predictable. Look at Isaac. He’s getting to an age where it doesn’t look good for a businessman to be still dating his girlfriend and keeping her hanging about. If he wants to further himself, he has to pop out some kids and legitimise his intentions and his ambitions. Nobody says it but that’s absolutely the way of the world. Unless you’re in fashion like you are, then it’s perfectly valid to be single and fabulous forever, but these businesspeople… you know the type, honey. Don’t tell me you don’t.”

  Anabel shook her head, hating everything… everyone… but especially Susan, who she suspected was right. The line went quiet for a while, until Susan broke the silence, her tone having dropped to something softer, more understanding.

  “I have been a crap friend, I know that,” she admitted. “I ran off into the sunset with Adam. I know I haven’t been a good girl, believe me… but my problems are mine and my world… it’s different to yours. Maybe I won’t marry again, maybe that’s my choice. Maybe I’ve learnt from experience and would rather rebuild our friendship than bloody get with some bloke who’s going to end up crushing me, in the end?”