Mum has gone out of the room before I can even respond. Her last words have struck my heart like a spear. I look to Luke in my stunned stupor.
Once upon a time, not so long ago, he would have held me in his arms and somehow absorbed any pain, but today he stands still, cold, statuesque. How has it all come to this in such a short space of time? How have I become the outcast of the family?
‘Clare what’s happening to you?’ he says, taking a step closer to me. The anger has gone from his voice. ‘I’m worried about you. It’s like you’re falling apart in front of my eyes, but you won’t let me help you.’
‘Can’t you see what’s happening?’ I ask. ‘Can’t you see what Alice is doing to us?’
‘She’s trying to find her feet back in her family. I thought this was what you wanted. It’s obviously difficult for you to have to share your life with her again, especially as you’ve had us all to yourself up until now, but you’ve got to get over this jealousy thing. It’s like you’re constantly analysing Alice, watching her every move and reading far more into it than what’s there. You’ve got to stop it and get a grip of yourself, Babe. It’s not a good place to be when you’re like this.’
‘You’re not listening to me,’ I snap. ‘No one is. You’re all taken in by her.’
I push past him and flee down the stairs. I grab my bag and car keys, the McMillan file still in my hand. I jump in the car, throwing the file and my handbag on the passenger seat and floor it out of the driveway, the wheels spinning on the gravel as I do.
At first I don’t know where I’m driving, I just know I want to get as far away from the house as possible and the people I love who are hurting me. I start to think of Luke’s reaction. He didn’t even try to defend me or to see things from my point of view. I can understand Mum’s reaction, to a certain extent. She doesn’t want to think badly of her daughter. She has been on a lifetime’s guilt trip, thinking about how she let Alice go, and now Alice is back she feels she needs to make it up to her. The love she has been harbouring all these years has to come out somewhere. I get that. She loves Alice. But Luke, why does he feel that? It’s almost as if he is putting Alice before me.
Suddenly the image of Alice and Luke standing on the seafront rushes to the fore of my mind, swiftly followed by them laughing as they came off the i360, the portrait, them together alone in the studio, Alice in her oversized T-shirt, Luke admiring her legs. The exchange of looks I’ve caught between them. It all comes rushing, crashing, thumping into my mind. The bastard! He’s fucking her!
I should be crying. I should be heartbroken, but I’m too angry to feel all that. I’m way past angry, I’m furious. Livid. Incandescent. I’m muttering all sorts of curses at Luke as I drive. All this time I’ve supported him and his fucking art and this is how he repays me. He’s shagging my sister! I thump the steering wheel. Rage settling within me.
It surprises me when I pull up outside Tom’s apartment near the seafront in Brighton. I hadn’t planned to come here. In fact, I have no idea how I ended up here. I cannot remember making a conscious decision to do so.
What the hell am I doing? I run my hands down my face and then back up across my hair, which, amazingly, is still in the ponytail. I shouldn’t be here, but where else can I go? The seafront is a good place. I turn the engine on and put the car into first gear. I’m just about to pull away when the familiar blue BMW pulls in front of me, blocking my path.
I look up and Tom looks back at me. He gets out of the car and comes over to mine. Opening the driver’s door, he looks at me and, without saying a word, reaches in, switches off the engine and takes the keys out of the ignition. He leans over and unclips the seat belt, picking up my bag and the file. He gives it a glance, but still doesn’t say anything. Then, taking my hand, he guides me out of the car. He locks my car and walks me over to his car, sits me in the passenger seat and then drives into the underground car park.
We end up inside Tom’s apartment, still without saying a word, and he pours us both a brandy. We sip in silence and when I’m finished I place my glass on the table. Tom puts his arm around me and holds me to him. I don’t resist. I need human comfort. I need kindness. I need love.
Over the next hour, I relay the sequence of events to Tom and drink two more brandies.
‘I had no idea it had got like that,’ says Tom. ‘Alice seemed so, well, so …’
‘Nice,’ I supply. ‘Yeah, I know. That’s what everyone says.’
‘And Luke. I’m really surprised at him,’ says Tom. ‘He should be standing by you, defending you, not making you feel like you’ve done something wrong.’ He pauses for a moment. ‘Unless, of course … No, sorry, ignore me.’
‘What were you going to say?’
‘It doesn’t matter. It’s not my place.’
‘Tom, you’re one of my oldest friends. Of course it’s your place.’
‘No, leave it, Clare. I don’t want to make matters worse. It’s not for me to cause trouble between a man and his wife. God knows, I know what that’s like.’ He’s referring to his ex-wife Isabella and the affair that broke up their marriage.
‘It’s okay. You can say it. You think Luke is having an affair with Alice.’
‘Now, I never said that.’
‘No, but I know what you were thinking and, it’s okay, I’ve thought that too. The bastard.’ I feel the anger surge once more.
‘I’m sorry, Clare. It’s that bad, huh?’
I feel a tear leak from the corner of my eye, and then another. Before I know it, tears are streaming down my face. Tom cuddles me. He strokes my hair. He rubs my back. His tells me it’s okay and to let it out. And I do. For a good ten minutes. Then Tom produces a tissue from his pocket and dabs gently at my eyes, drying my face.
‘I’m sorry,’ I say. ‘I didn’t mean to get upset like that.’
‘Don’t apologise,’ says Tom. His voice is soft and I’m suddenly aware of how close we are physically. His head is almost resting on mine. At some point, I don’t know when or who instigated it, our lips meet and we engage in more than just a friendly peck. Instantly, I’m back at Oxford, we’re twenty-one again and Tom is comforting me when I’m upset that my search for Alice is futile. How ironic that we find ourselves like this again, but because Alice has been found. Or rather, she has found us.
I feel tired from thinking about it all. It hurts too much. It’s all so painful and yet, here, in Tom’s arms, everything feels familiar and right. It reminds me of those student days when everything was good in the world, when the future ahead was full of excitement and promise. When there were no adult responsibilities. No lost files. No pending court cases. No cheating husband.
Chapter 16
Something inside my head snaps me back into reality. What the hell am I doing? I wriggle out of Tom’s embrace. Thank God it hasn’t gone any further than a kiss, not that a kiss is okay, but Jesus, what if I’d ended up having sex with him?
‘Sorry, Tom,’ I say, smoothing my hair back, which has somehow come out of the ponytail. ‘I can’t. It’s not right.’