‘I’m saying. . . ’ What the hell am I saying? she wondered. He wasn’t alone in being shocked by the words that had defensively emerged from her lips. Her chin went up defiantly as, pushed to the brink, she couldn’t bring herself to back down even though a small voice in her head warned her she was making a big mistake. ‘I’m saying I don’t want to be your wife.’
‘Be careful, Jo.’
‘The time to be careful was yesterday. Now I’ve just got to retrieve what I can from a situation which has frankly become distasteful.’
Liam’s head reared as her words struck home and the sound of him sharply inhaling was audible. ‘Distasteful. . . ’ he mused slowly. There was a white line etched around the sensual outline of his lips. ‘An interesting and evocative choice of adjective.’
‘I never wanted to be your wife.’ Part of her wanted to stop but the impulsive words continued to spill from her lips. ‘I was bullied and cajoled into thinking it was the best way.’ Liam had hurt her deeply and her instinct was to hit back and come out of this situation with a modicum of her pride intact.
His expression froze and a frostily blank expression slid into his normally expressive eyes. ‘Then there’s nothing else to be said.’
That was it? She couldn’t believe her ears. His reply made her feel as though a dark hole had opened up at her feet. She knew her response was perverse—she hadn’t fallen into an unseen obstacle, she’d dug the hole and jumped in! She was getting what she wanted, wasn’t she?
Liam
always
argued, his tenacity was legendary! She certainly hadn’t been nursing a deep-seated fantasy that called for him to produce some flawlessly logical explanation that would soothe her fears. Her stomach lurched sickeningly as the implications of his capitulation sunk in. Obviously he didn’t think it was worth fighting over. He was probably
relieved.
‘I think it will be easier for everybody concerned if we leave—together, without mentioning your decision.’
‘What. . . ?’ she said blankly. He sounded so objective and in control. How
dare
he cope so well when her world was collapsing around her ears?
‘It would be kinder to break this to our families on a more private occasion. Do you think you can manage that?’
‘They’ll be confused. . . ’ She bit her trembling lip and tried not to think about the emotional fallout she’d have to endure. She walked over to the window to hide the tears that suddenly welled in her eyes.
‘
They
’
ll
be confused?’
Devastated was probably closer to the truth, she thought bleakly. Married and separated all on the same day; could this be some sort of miserable record? Jo pulled off her veil and let it fall to the floor. Liam’s irony was wasted on her; she was still feeling disorientated and dazed by the speed with which things were happening.
‘And whose fault is that? You let me think we both wanted the same thing from this marriage.’ She had no intention of shouldering full responsibility for this situation.
‘I
hoped
we would eventually both want the same thing from this marriage, but you’ve made it perfectly clear that I was a fool to imagine—’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she interrupted angrily.
‘I’m well aware of that.’
She was getting heartily sick of his cryptic little digs. ‘There doesn’t seem much point in having a conversation if you insist on talking
at
me, not to me.’
‘I didn’t think I had to talk at all. You seem able to tell me what I’m thinking without me even opening my mouth.’
‘You opened your mouth all right, you just didn’t know I was listening.’
‘Eavesdropping.’
‘So sue me,’ she snapped, yawning elaborately.
‘So sorry if I’m boring you.’
‘We do seem to be covering the same ground repeatedly.’
‘I don’t know why I ever thought this would work.’ Liam regarded her with intense dislike.
I don’t care if he doesn’t like me, I’m
glad
, she told herself belligerently. She couldn’t let herself pause long enough to think about how much she
did
care; it would be too painful. Right now, whilst her emotions were hot and unpredictable, she could blot it out, but later it would be different.
‘The problem was it didn’t matter that much to you either way.’
‘Do you think you can resist calling me a callous, manipulative bastard until we get clear of this fiasco?’
‘Duplicity doesn’t come as easily to me as it does to you, but I’ll try,’ she promised with a glare that carried almost as much animosity as his.
‘I leave you alone and look what happens.’ Claudia leaned back in her seat and caught the waiter’s eye. ‘Another one of these,’ she said, indicating her empty glass, ‘and a double orange juice for my friend. What’s happening over there, Paolo?’ She indicated an area of the restaurant to their right where there seemed to be a lot of activity.
‘They’ve been interviewing some hotshot writer,’ he said, adopting a confidential manner, ‘and they’re taking some photos now. I can move you to another table if you prefer, Miss Raphael.’
‘And rob us of a glimpse of someone famous? No chance.’ Claudia laughed. ‘Don’t you just love nepotism?’ she observed happily. ‘If Uncle Guido didn’t own this place we’d never have got a table. I just love celebrity spotting.’
‘The food’s not bad either,’ Jo responded, smiling at her friend’s enthusiasm.
‘I’ll pass on your compliments to the chef. From the way you’re picking at that zabaglione I’d assumed it wasn’t up to standard.’
‘I’m not very hungry.’
‘Then hand it over. It would be a pity to waste it.’ Claudia had a very relaxed attitude towards calories and no hang ups at all about her generous curves.
‘How is Justin?’ Jo asked. Claudia and Justin worked in the same chambers and it was through him they’d first met. The two women had hit it off straight away.
‘He worries about you.’
‘Don’t’ Jo pleaded. ‘I feel guilty enough as it is He was too nice for me.’
‘Yes,’ Claudia agreed thoughtfully.
‘Pardon?’ Jo shot her a startled look.
‘I didn’t mean that quite the way it sounded. I just never actually thought you and Justin were particularly well suited.’
‘You never said.’ Jo felt a little put out by this revelation.
‘You never asked.’ She pushed aside her empty dessert plate and placed her chin on her steepled fingers. ‘Pregnant, married and working on the divorce—I still can’t believe it.’
‘When you say it like that it does sound. . . ’
‘Hasty?’ Claudia suggested.
‘Not you too. I’ve had it up to here—’ Jo banged her forehead with her fist ‘—with people telling me I’m behaving irrationally.’
‘Calm down, Jo, I’m not about to lecture you. In fact what I actually want are some of the gruesome details. Why else would I bring you to a very exclusive restaurant?
I want the warm Mediterranean ambience to chip away at all those Anglo-Saxon restraints—let it all hang out. You’ll feel much better and I’m much cheaper than a therapist; neither do I have the meter running.’
‘How can I resist an offer like that? And here I was thinking you only brought me here because your uncle owns it and he doesn’t charge you.’
‘Don’t be picky, spill the dirt. Did you really never,
ever
sleep with the delectable Liam until the night Justin dumped you?’ she asked incredulously. She smiled and shrugged as Jo’s eyes opened wide in indignation. ‘No need to look so scandalised. I always assumed that. . . I mean, it’s pretty unusual . . The only men I’m
that
friendly with are my ex-lovers—at least, some of them.’
‘That accounts for your legions of
friends
.’
Claudia smiled complacently, quite unruffled by this insult. ‘You should meet my mother, you’d get on. She wants me to stop behaving badly, get married and produce babies. Now, about Liam. . . ’
Jo gave a sigh of exasperation. The dogged characteristics that made Claudia such a good lawyer made her an exasperating friend sometimes. ‘You and Justin are friendly but you were never. . . ’ Jo blinked ‘. . .
were you
?’
‘No, of course not.’ Jo had never seen her friend blush before. A sudden suspicion entered her head.
‘Well, are you going to tell me?’
The sharp question distracted Jo from the revolutionary idea that had occurred to her. ‘Tell you what?’
‘Tell me what the delicious Liam—’
‘I do wish you’d stop saying things like that,’ Jo interrupted crossly.
‘Things like what?’
‘Delicious and delectable. . . ’
‘Fine, what did your unattractive and nondescript husband
do to make you do a runner on your wedding night? I should tell you opinion differs on this one, but I lean towards the unnatural sexual practices theory. Justin thinks it was another woman—or, rather, women.’
‘I’m glad my private life provides the legal profession with a little light relief.’
‘Come on, Jo, don’t get all bitter and twisted—you know we care about you. You must admit, it does give rise to speculation when a girl jilts the groom after the ceremony.’
Foolishly the genuine warmth and affection in Claudia’s brown eyes made her own grow misty. ‘I knew he was only marrying me because of the baby, but I thought he believed our marriage could work.’ Disastrously her voice began to quaver.
‘And he didn’t believe that?’
Jo blew her nose defiantly. ‘No, he just wanted to make sure he had rights—legally—over how the baby is brought up. It was a cold, calculating plan.’
‘Says who?’ said Claudia sceptically.
‘Says him. . . I mean he said so, I didn’t invent it, I heard him! He doesn’t give a damn about me.’
‘I’ve always had the impression Liam gives several damns about you. In fact I have this theory. . . ’
‘This is the part where I’m supposed to say, What theory?’ Jo was a little piqued that Claudia hadn’t recoiled in shock when she’d revealed the awful truth; lacking that, sympathy would have been nice. She had obviously failed to see the enormity of Liam’s crime and she didn’t seem to appreciate that it would be impossible to trust him ever again.
‘Liam’s always shared everything with you, but his body—right? All his deep inner feelings and equally profound emotions? At the same time he has been a very
popular boy with the ladies, but not exactly renown for his staying power. You see, he didn’t
need
anything deep and meaningful from them because he already had that with you. Are you following me so far? Don’t worry if you’re not, I’ll be quite happy to answer questions at the end.
‘The thing is, once the sex thing reared its ugly head and you two swung from the chandeliers—I take it we are talking torrid with a capital T here?’
Jo shifted uncomfortably and hoped the subdued lighting was disguising her high colour. Claudia was suddenly very handy with the questions, she thought resentfully, but she wasn’t hanging around waiting for answers, which on reflection might, under the circumstances, be a blessing! Her photographic recall of every occasion upon which they’d made love was proving quite a handicap. The last thing she needed was Claudia’s help to resurrect the memories which were never far from her thoughts.
Claudia rubbed her hands, warming to her theme. ‘Whammo, he has the intellectual, friendship bit and the lust all wrapped up in one convenient parcel. He doesn’t need other women; he has you’ She placed her elbows on the table and looked smug. ‘What do you think?’
‘I think if you look to your right you’ll see a slight flaw in your theory.’ Her own voice sounded as though it were coming from a long way off as it competed with the thunderous sound of the blood pounding in her ears.
‘What. . . ?’ Claudia twisted around in her seat.
‘A five-foot ten flaw, with flowing blonde hair and a cleavage that defies all laws of gravity,’ Jo elaborated in a composed tone that didn’t even hint at the knife that was twisting away at her vital areas. ‘She’s just walked in the door—with Liam.’
‘That’s Suzanna Wilson!’ Claudia gasped. ‘And it’s a push-up bra not gravity you’re seeing there—I’m wearing
one myself,’ she confided, twitching her silk shirt and giving anyone interested a view of her lacy undergarments.
‘I know that’s Suzanna Wilson—how do you?’ Pregnancy obviously caused softening of the brain—for a minute there she’d actually thought Claudia’s theory ranked along with that of relativity. I’m not just pathetic, I’m
stupid
!
‘Are you kidding?’
‘You mean she’s famous?’ That figured; it certainly explained the air of consequence.
‘Famous’ Where have you been living, Jo? She’s the most bankable female director in Hollywood, which means in the world. You must remember when she was slated by the feminist press for her last film—they called it exploitative and degrading. It was also wildly profitable so I don’t think Suzanna is losing too much sleep. Is it all coming back to you?’ She looked rather anxiously at her friend who didn’t seem able to tear her anguished gaze from the tableau. ‘How do you know her, Jo?’