‘I didn’t realise there was etiquette involved in drowning,’ she said, repeating what Dan had said to me earlier. My stomach twisted. Good old Dan, as loyal as ever, he’d obviously made this remark to her. ‘This viciousness of yours is just because you’re in a stale marriage with a bored man you won’t let go,’ she sighed.
‘He can go any time he likes,’ I said, feigning disinterest. She’d really hit a nerve and as much as I tried to ignore what she’d said, it hurt.
‘Oh no he can’t, because you won’t let him. Doesn’t matter if he finds someone else who he really loves, you’re there with your kids and your handcuffs dragging him back. Women like you make me sick,’ she spat.
‘You’ve got it all wrong, you’ve heard half a story from Jamie via Joy and you think you know my life, my marriage.’
But Ella wasn’t interested in my life, she’d rather talk about hers.
‘I bet you wish you were on your honeymoon like me, don’t you, Clare?’
‘No, I don’t want your life thank you.’
‘Wow. Jealous much?’
‘Not at all. I might be in a stale marriage, but your life is non-existent. It’s whatever you put on Instagram. It isn’t real, Ella.’
‘Online or offline, it’s better than yours with your flirty husband and flabby thighs.’
Her true colours were really coming to the fore now. Once again she’d worked it so that no one else was around to witness her vitriol, her venom – but I wasn’t going to take it.
‘You aren’t what you pretend to be. The pious little Insta queen who fights the good fight and empowers women body-shaming her sister-in-law. Nice – it shows just who you really are, a lying little thief.’
‘Oh, Clare, how many times do I have to tell you,’ she sighed, like she was so bored of it all. ‘I have my own diamonds, hun, I don’t need anyone else’s.’
‘Doesn’t mean you didn’t take them.’
‘But why would I when I’ve got my own, way bigger than those weeny things?’
‘I’ve seen your Instagram – I bet those Arab princes pay you for your “talents”, in diamonds?’
‘Yeah, and wouldn’t you like a little taste of that ice, Clare? Something dangerous on a yacht, a sizzle of spice in the Middle East? You’re so bored, you’d sell your kids for ten minutes of my life. So you can stop with the sanctimonious shit.’
I couldn’t believe the rubbish she was talking; did she really think I’d rather live her empty life than mine, with my lovely kids, my rewarding job?
‘I’m not judging how you make a living, but I wonder what Jamie would think?’
‘Jamie? He doesn’t judge what happened before we met, because it did all happen before we met, just to make that clear. And BTW – I don’t judge him either.’ She was staring at me now. ‘In fact, we have no secrets,’ she said, without taking her eyes from mine. ‘Yeah, babe – we are super honest.’
My heart thumped to the floor.
‘My husband knows everything. I’ve had a tough life, and sometimes I’ve had to make a living and he… well, to be honest, Clare, Jamie actually likes me to tell him all about it, if you know what I mean.’ She smiled knowingly. ‘Of course you do. It excites him – and you know all about that, don’t you?’
‘Shut up,’ I hissed. ‘This is my family, and I won’t let you wreck my life.’
‘Clare, you wrecked your own life.’ She smiled.
I waited, holding my breath for what she’d say next. She knew, she really knew everything.
‘Yeah,’ she said, slowly nodding her head – it was as if she’d just read my mind. ‘I know – and I’m not bluffing.’
I couldn’t speak, this could be the end of everything for me.
‘So don’t come for me again, big sister-in-law, because any little indiscretion I might be guilty of,’ she lifted her finger and thumb almost together and reached towards me, ‘well, it pales into insignificance next to yours.’
I couldn’t take any more, and grabbed the tray with the children’s drinks on and hurried out of the kitchen without saying another word. I stayed in control, walking through the house, the big high ceilings and cool marble floors a slight relief from the intense heat. I was hot and itchy, could barely breathe. Ella had the means to blow my life apart at any moment.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Devastated, I finally reached the door and went outside. The bright light and searing heat hit me all at once, and wrapped itself around me like a snake as I teetered by the pool. As I walked along the water’s edge, Joy lowered her sunglasses, smiled and went back to her book. Bob was snoring by her side. Dan lifted his hand in a waving gesture from the pool with Alfie on his back, Violet swinging from his neck. I looked around for Freddie, my baby – he was asleep, in the shade of a parasol, lying on Uncle Jamie. My family. It took my breath away to see them all like this, the perfect picture of a family on holiday. How different the reality was to the picture we presented – the passions, the guilt and all the hurt simmering just under the surface. My dirty little secret.
The children clambered from the pool, rushing towards me for their drinks. I watched them, in awe at their innocence, their purity. No secrets, no guilt – the biggest things in their lives were what was happening now. How I wished I could turn back the clock to a simple time, when I had nothing to hide, and everything to be happy for.
I thought back to that night, the night that changed everything. It was in a villa not unlike this one, Joy’s taste ever-present in her choice of our holiday homes. Greece was incredibly hot that summer – almost three years before. It was a difficult time for me. Violet was six, Alfie one, and Dan was there, but he wasn’t. He was constantly on his phone, never smiling, everything I said seemed to irritate him beyond words. I kept asking what was wrong, but he wouldn’t engage, just kept saying it was nothing, and that I was imagining things.
I was tired from going back to work full-time after maternity leave, and trying to give as much of myself to two young children, but it wasn’t enough and I couldn’t stretch any further. Dan, like Jamie, was used to being cared for. Joy had treated them both like princes all their lives and Dan was finding it hard not being my number one any more. I was working the night shifts so I could spend the days with the children, and he was working long hours at work, then looking after the kids at night. We literally passed each other in the hall most days, and my priority, like most mums, was our two little children. Dan was a good father, but as he was only home in the evenings, he didn’t see much of the children, and he didn’t get how exhausting it could be.
Even on our holidays with Joy and Bob and Jamie, I did pretty much everything for the children. I wanted to though, I spent too long away from them at work. But one particular night on that family holiday in Greece, the kids were so exhausted, they just wanted their bath and to go to bed, and, to my surprise, Dan offered – no, he insisted on putting them to bed. ‘You have a break, it’s your holiday too,’ he’d said.