Unmasked (2 page)

Emma walked to his side and took his hand. She was feeling faint and her hands were trembling.

‘I need to have a word with Paul in private,’ she said. ‘It has nothing to do with your birthday present, David, so don’t even go there.’

David smiled.

Emma led Paul across the hall and into David’s study. She closed the door behind her and leant against it to ensure she would remain upright.

‘Don’t do this, Paul.’

‘It’s already done,’ he said, resting his bottom against the edge of the vast oak desk. ‘I can’t undo what I said to you. I know you; you won’t be able to live with David like this. It’s done. All I will be doing is saving everybody the pain and embarrassment of a slow death.’

‘Shouldn’t that be up to us to decide?’

‘You’re not thinking straight. One day you’ll thank me.’

‘I wouldn’t count on it.’

Paul folded his arms and then raised his hand to his chin and shook his head, smiling. His eyes roamed over her. She was standing on the tips of her toes for some reason as she leant against the door.

‘This is off topic but you look fucking delicious, Emma. I don’t know what it is about elegant dresses and bare feet. It does something to me.’

Emma dropped her head. ‘Paul, when you leave tonight I don’t want to see you again.’

‘Ever?’

She glared at him. ‘Not for a very long time.’

‘Well, that’s bullshit.’

‘I mean it.’

‘You’re not going to stay with him. He’s fucking Sally. I can already see in your eyes that something has changed. You know it’s over.’

‘What right do I have to deny David the same freedoms I’ve enjoyed with you?’

‘You can’t possibly think David is choosing freely? He’s a fucking coward! He’s frightened of you. He’ll get her pregnant and then that will be that. He’ll leave you for her because she’ll make his life easier.’

‘I don’t want to listen to this.
I’m
going to have his baby!’

‘You think I give a shit? You need to listen. For fuck’s sake, you taught
me
how to live. I follow
your
example. I shouldn’t be explaining any of this to you.’

Emma closed her eyes and shook her head.

Paul came to her. His tone was tender. ‘Would you really give up who you are for him?’

After a long time Emma opened her eyes. ‘Yes. If he had loved me and only me I would have given up everything. You, me, everything.’

‘But he has fucked up. There’s no going back.’

‘I don’t believe that, yet.’

‘That’s why I need to go in there for you. You’ll see. They’re not worthy of you. I’m not worthy. I never have been. I can’t bear to see you like this, Em.’

‘Promise me you won’t go in.’

‘No.’

‘Promise me, Paul. Let me work this out. I will end it. I will.’

‘I can’t let you. I don’t think you can.’

‘Trust me.’

Paul grabbed her.

‘No, Paul.’

But he held on tightly. She couldn’t wriggle free.

‘I can’t trust you,’ he said, and turned her around, pressing her face-first against the door. His full weight was on her.

‘I don’t want this, Paul.’

‘I don’t care.’

‘I’ll call out.’

‘Do it, what does it matter now?’

He was breathing heavily, letting the moment last, stretching time.

Then slowly, still holding her fast against the door, he ran his fingers up her leg, lifting the hem of her dress as he went. He brought his hand around and slid up her inner thigh. Cotton briefs were pulled slowly aside. He lingered there. She was very still. Then he touched her. She was wet. He took his hand away and moved from her. He sat down on the leather chair behind David’s desk.

Emma turned, breathing deeply. She hadn’t expected him to stop.

‘They’ll be wondering where we are,’ said Paul.

‘Does
that
matter now?’ asked Emma, staring at him.

‘I’ll give you a week. That’s it. If you haven’t done something – whatever it is you think you’re going to do – by then, I’ll do it for you.’

‘What makes you think I’ll let you?’

‘I don’t really expect I’ll need to do anything.’

‘Why?’

‘I’ve just discovered you’re not dead yet.’

Paul didn’t stay long after they re-joined the others. He made some excuse and was gone. He left Emma rattled though. He really knew how to unmask her. He knew how to accost her, too. Leaving her wanting was the work of a genius. Emma looked at the occupants of the room from a new perspective now. They were still suburban but they were no longer to be tolerated. Revolution didn’t seem a bad idea now. But for the sake of her guests she’d postpone it to the morning.

She noticed that David and Sebastian were drinking scotch, which David rarely drank. She assumed Sebastian had asked for one and David had joined him. Sebastian’s champagne stood half full on the side table beside him.

‘Has anyone called for takeaway?’ asked Emma as nonchalantly as she could.

‘Yes, me,’ said Sally, smiling. ‘We chose Thai.’

THREE

Emma was in the kitchen, putting plates in the dishwasher. Sally and Mark had gone and David and Sebastian were drinking and smoking on the front verandah. She had made it through the evening without lopping off any heads. All she had to worry about now was David. They would have to get into bed together. She didn’t know if she could do it. He was drunk, he would want to fuck her. All night she had avoided his touch, moving away as soon as he had come near her. She knew she was being unreasonable but she could do nothing about it. She wondered if she
could ever let him touch her again. The thought of it made her shiver. She hated herself for feeling this way. It was hypocritical. It went against her beliefs. But this didn’t stop her from feeling repulsed by him.

‘Fuck!’

Emma was so preoccupied with her thoughts she smashed a champagne glass while placing it in the dishwasher. As she bent over to pick out the shards of glass she heard footsteps.

‘Mrs Benson.’

She looked around and saw Sebastian standing at the kitchen door.

‘Your husband has been vanquished. He has passed out on the verandah. I have come to claim my prize.’

‘And what would that be?’ she asked, standing up straight.

‘You, obviously,’ he declared, pleased with his own audacity.

‘Oh, really. You can’t be thrilled with that – what kind of a prize is a second-hand wife? Why don’t you take his BMW instead?’

‘Seven series?’

‘Five.’

‘Hmm … I think I’ll stick with you.’

‘And it if it had been a Seven series BMW?’

‘I’d have taken you and the car,’ he said, his speech slightly slurred.

‘What if I don’t wish to be a prize?’ She stared at him, expressionless.

‘I shall respect your wishes and take his car.’

‘I don’t want to be a prize.’

‘Even though you are by rights mine I shall set you free.’

‘Very generous.’

‘Thank you.’

Emma saw he was drunk, but only realised how drunk when he took hold of the door frame to steady his about-face. He made his way down the hall, touching the wall from time to time, and out the front door.

Emma followed him and stood at the doorway to watch him stagger down the street. David was snoring loudly where he slept on the day bed. She threw a rug over him and returned to the kitchen.

FOUR

Emma woke alone early the next morning. She grabbed an apple from the kitchen and took herself down to the beach, passing David on the way out. Some time during the night he had come inside and flopped onto the large sofa in the lounge room. He slept soundly.

The short walk down to the beach in the morning sunshine lifted Emma’s spirits. When she stripped to her one piece and dived into the cool water her mind instantly became clear. By the time she had finished her laps, she had decided what she would do. She loved David. He had betrayed her.
But she had betrayed him time and time again. Betrayal wasn’t possible between people who were honest with one another. She had wronged him and herself by not being honest with him from the beginning. The only way forward, she saw now, was to come clean. If she could forgive him, he should be able to forgive her.

Stepping out of the water the dry sand warmed her feet. She jogged to the shower by the stairs and gritted her teeth as the bitterly cold water streamed over her, so much so she was shivering uncontrollably by the time she was done. Returning to her pile by the wall she wrapped the towel around her and rolled off her swimsuit. Drying herself the best she could she stepped into her yoga pants and pulled on her singlet.

She was close to reaching the top of the steep hill on her way back home when she heard her name being called. She looked around her and up and down the street.

‘Up here,’ came the voice.

She gazed up at the building she had been passing. Through the trees she saw a man leaning over a balcony about ten metres up and across from her. She stepped downhill a few paces so that she could see him properly. He wore large dark glasses.

‘Morning. Have a nice swim?’

Emma couldn’t see who it was.

The man lifted his glasses and grinned. ‘Sebastian,’ he prompted.

Emma smiled. ‘Lovely swim. You should go down.’

‘I intend to. Just made coffee and warmed up some croissants. Fancy a cup?’

Emma moved aside to let a neighbour she knew only to nod to pass by. The woman was being led by two large German shepherds who stopped briefly to sniff Emma. The larger of the two was rewarded with a stroke and a pat.

When Emma glanced up again, Sebastian was gone. On her way up the hill, she had been thinking about confronting David as soon as she entered the house. She had been preparing her speech, but hadn’t, until now, taken into consideration the hangover he was certain to be suffering. Seeing Sebastian reminded her of the mess she would find in place of her husband. She didn’t relish the prospect of discussing such an important matter with him in that state.

Then she heard the front gate of the building buzz. Emma expected to see Sebastian’s head pop over the railing again, but this didn’t happen. The
gate was at the front of the property which was up around the corner on The Grove. Emma’s street. She took a few steps towards it then stopped.

She looked up again to see if he was watching. He just assumed she would come up. Emma concluded from this that he was trying to suggest that it was completely innocent. Trying to keep it light. It was no big deal. Of course she would come up. It was just coffee. Why overthink it? But Emma couldn’t help but overthink it. Men were rarely innocent.

She recalled their short conversation in the kitchen the night before. There was no doubting his intent then, drunk though he was. She wondered if he had seen her going down to the beach and whether he had lain in wait for her to return. She laughed at herself. What was she afraid of? Was he so irresistible that entering his domain was akin to sleeping with him? Killing time with Sebastian would give David more opportunity to recover. She rounded the corner and pushed open the gate.

The house was newly renovated. Under a columned portico three steps led into a small foyer with a large curving marble staircase rising up to the next floor. It was obscene, tasteless, in the style of many newly developed Mosman
homes. The kind of house a self-made man builds for himself. In the foyer Emma saw that a separate set of stairs led to a lower level. She could see the obligatory lap pool and the billiards table. She climbed the marble stairs and passed through the open plan dining and lounge rooms to the back of the house, which opened out onto another lounge and the balcony on which Sebastian had stood. Emma didn’t find him there. He was in the kitchen tucked away on her left.

‘What do you think?’ he asked.

‘There are no books.’

‘No. The man who owns the place doesn’t read. He is very proud of the fact.’

‘It shows. Does your home have books?’

‘I don’t have one.’

Emma walked out onto the balcony. The view was her view only seen from a slightly different angle. This house was on the lower side of the street. Then she noticed the large telescope that was tilted towards the beach below.

‘It isn’t the beach you should be watching. It’s the big yachts,’ she said, taking hold of the telescope, being careful not to move it. She put her eye to the finder scope. It was trained on the part of the beach she habitually chose.

‘The yachts?’

‘They think they’re out of range. They don’t take into account the power of one of these.’

‘I’m glad mine is moored out of sight at Rushcutters Bay.’

‘Have you something to hide?’

‘Perhaps. But tell me, what do you see when you’re spying on the boats down there?’

‘I’m not telling. But they do things people won’t dare do on the beach until nightfall.’

‘I will be sure to follow your advice. How do you take your coffee?’

‘White with one.’

Emma had assumed Sebastian was the same age as her husband, but looking at him in the bright morning light he seemed older. He wore jeans again and had bare feet but the blue t-shirt had been swapped for a white one. He certainly took care of himself. He reminded her of someone. He was unmistakably handsome. Had nice hands, too, she noticed as he put down her coffee.