Love Is... (34 page)

My frown deepened. ‘Excuse me,' I said, sitting up further. ‘For your information, I've made a career out of helping people.'

He shrugged his shoulders. ‘I wasn't questioning why you stopped putting other people's happiness before your own. I was simply asking when?'

I stared at him. ‘When?'

He nodded. ‘Yes. I imagine you'll find it will be at precisely the same time things started to go wrong for you.'

I looked down. Matilda was sleeping. Then I looked sideways at the pool: the breeze blew gentle ripples across the surface. I looked up at the sky. Instinctively, my eyelids scrunched up together. I took in a lungful of the hot dry air.

Eventually, I opened my eyes and looked at him.

He continued. ‘We don't exist in isolation,' he said. ‘Each of us has a responsibility to one another.' He paused to pat Matilda. ‘It has been said that it takes a village to raise a child.' He opened his arms. ‘And it takes a community to support a marriage.'

I stared at him. ‘I've been trying to help people, I really have. But I don't know how.'

‘You don't know how, or it doesn't suit you to know how?'

‘Of course I want to know how. That's why I'm here.'

Matilda let out a loud grunt. At least I assumed it was a grunt until I smelled the air wafting around me.

I held my nose but Dr Menzi seemed unfazed.

He leaned forward and looked me in the eye. ‘Have you considered that preoccupying oneself with the search for a cure is an excellent way to avoid treatment?'

And with that he stood up and walked off. Matilda followed.

Soon afterwards Jengo appeared with a film crew and a friendly reminder that our time with Dr Menzi was over. I tried to explain that my questioning was not yet concluded but he simply directed me to Dr Menzi's YouTube channel and suggested I message him there.

As I stood alone in the courtyard waiting for Victoria, I took another deep breath, wondering if I might inhale some wisdom, along with any lingering emissions from Matilda. I glanced up at the sky. Maybe now, as a sinner, I'd been blacklisted from any spiritual intervention, my mugshot on the karma hit list. I thought about Nick. I could almost see him shaking his head and agreeing with my diagnosis. Then I imagined Jenna, wearing a body-con dress and pouring him a glass of wine on a Manhattan terrace, saying, ‘It's
a shame your wife prioritised her self-interests over your relationship. Oh well, her loss,' before shaking loose her mermaid-like locks and pouting at Nick.

Soon after, Victoria stumbled out onto the courtyard with Dr Menzi.

‘They have an '89 Burgundy in there,' she said with a hiccup. Then steadied herself on a pillar. ‘And a Crozes-Hermitage.'

Just as Jengo was helping a resistant Victoria into the Jeep, Matilda nudged me on the leg with her snout and then looked back at Dr Menzi. He smiled and nodded.

‘Yes, Matilda,' he said. ‘I know.'

I frowned at him. ‘Know what?'

He smiled, then walked towards me and put both hands on my stomach. ‘You will be blessed,' he said, ‘with three.'

I stepped back. I could hear Victoria laughing from the Jeep.

‘I don't think so,' I said.

Dr Menzi glanced down at Matilda and then back at me and smiled.

‘You'll see,' he said.

Back at the lodge, Victoria headed straight to the Jacuzzi pool with a couple of bottles of the Hasina's faux Chablis.

‘Do you think I'm self-medicating?' she slurred, pouring a glass up to the rim.

I laughed. ‘Of course,' I said, topping up my glass. ‘But it's working nicely, isn't it?'

She giggled, pulling up the top of her gold Versace swimsuit, and took another glug.

I stared up at the sky. The sun was hovering above the
horizon as though it hadn't made its mind up which way to go. ‘Do you think Dr Menzi was right?' I asked.

She snorted the wine out of her nose. ‘About you being blessed with three children?'

I laughed. ‘No, that was obviously bullshit. I mean the bit about me forgetting to help others.'

She looked down into the Jacuzzi foam. ‘I didn't hear that bit. I was in the toilet.'

I laughed. ‘No, you weren't. You were hiding behind the pillar, quaffing Dr Menzi's fine wine collection. Matilda was staring at you. She gave you away.'

She smirked. ‘I was intrigued,' she said.

‘So, do you think he was right?'

She scrunched up her nose. ‘No,' she said. ‘You helped me.'

I stared at her for a moment. ‘Yes, I might have helped you five years ago. But what have I done since then? Ignore you because you had a bigger house than me and a perfect child and a perfect bottom. Because you had the life I wanted.'

She shook her head. ‘Ellie, you had that life too.'

I laughed. ‘What, a dilapidated house, a barren womb and a husband who would rather stay out every night than be with me?'

Victoria topped up my glass. ‘Well, at least your husband could hold a conversation with you without sneering or making little digs about your imperfect personality. It was like Mike hated me by the end. My daughter doesn't think much of me either. It was only that scrap of a hound that showed me any affection.'

I saw a tear edging out the corner of her eye. She blinked it away proficiently.

‘And you gave him away,' I said.

She sniffed. ‘No point getting attached,' she said, taking another gulp.

I watched her, waiting for the realisation.

She tutted. ‘Yes, Dr Dolittle Dre is probably right. But how am I supposed to change the habit of a lifetime?'

I leaned forward and pressed the button to start the Jacuzzi bubbles again. ‘Dr Phil says you only have to do something twenty-one times for it to become a new habit.'

Victoria rolled her eyes. ‘So Mike must have shagged that trollop twenty-one times then before he decided to leave me?'

I glanced up. ‘He didn't leave you. You left him.'

‘Yes, because he was shagging her.'

‘Shagging? I thought he said they only had sex once. That's what you told me.'

‘Only?' she said. ‘Only? Am I supposed to be grateful?' She forced a laugh. ‘Besides, it was more than that. I've yet to prove it, but I know it. They only ever admit to what they can't deny, don't they?'

I sighed. ‘Men don't behave as a collective species,' I said.

‘So you think it's OK? You think I should put up with that?'

I looked down at the bubbles. ‘Of course not. But it's never black and white, is it?'

She tutted. ‘Yes, it is. “Do not put your penis in another woman” is quite a clearly defined expectation in a marriage.'

I nodded. ‘Yes,' I said. ‘But what do you think Mike's expectations were of you?'

Her eyes widened. ‘Whose side are you on?'

‘Yours,' I said. ‘I want you to be happy.'

She rolled her eyes. ‘Well, let me hate him then. That's what I need to do right now.'

I stared at her for a moment, then topped up her glass. ‘Fair enough,' I said. ‘Mike is an arsehole.'

She shook her head. ‘No, he's not an arsehole,' she said, chinking her glass with mine. ‘He's worse than that. He's a…'

I laughed, before I realised she was serious, then I stopped and stared at her. Her expression had the hollowness of a psychopath. I lifted her glass to her mouth. She swallowed and then seemingly regained her composure.

‘Do you think Nick is one too?' I asked.

She smirked and then her mouth spread into a full smile. She began to laugh, a wild, untempered, hyena-like yowl. It echoed into the blackness around us. She laughed and laughed as though exorcising a resistant demon. When she'd finished, she paused, took a long deep breath and then downed her wine.

‘No,' she said. ‘I don't.'

We sat silently, listening to the water bubble and foam. I imagined tiny ships bobbing up and down, desperate for the storm to pass.

‘So when are you going to admit you had sex with Dominic?' she asked.

I shook my head. ‘I didn't.'

She leaned forward, eyes narrowed. ‘But you wanted to?'

I tried to look resolute, but all I could think about was Dominic's arms around me, his chest pressing against mine, his soft deep voice.

She stared at me some more. ‘You know he's engaged, don't you?'

I turned to her, eyebrow raised.

‘I did some research.'

I raised the other eyebrow as well.

‘According to government records, he's been engaged to a Connie Bragwell for seven years. He tells people she's dead but she's not.'

I swallowed. ‘You're serious?'

She waved her hand dismissively. ‘It's not as bad as it sounds,' she said, taking another sip of champagne. ‘According to NHS records, Connie's been in a vegetative state for six of those years, with no chance of recovery. So you can't really blame him.'

‘Blame him for what?'

‘Falling for you,' she said, topping up her champagne. ‘Apparently he was driving the car when they crashed, so you can understand he has some issues about telling people.'

I swallowed again feeling like there was something in my throat I was failing to dislodge.

Victoria continued, oblivious. ‘I also had my private investigator delve into his financial affairs. Very interesting. Apparently he's made more money than his grandfa—'

‘Enough,' I said, narrowing my eyes. ‘I don't want to hear any more.'

She cocked her head with a pained expression. ‘You really are in love with him, aren't you?'

I looked up at the sky. The stars seemed to be popping out like hundreds of bright eyes opening to witness a great event. I felt sorry to disappoint them. ‘If a nasal spray switched these feelings on,' I said, ‘then maybe a nasal spray could switch them off.'

Victoria turned to me. ‘Hah,' she said. ‘If only it could be that simple.'

I looked up at the sky and smiled. ‘I'm starting to think it might be,' I said.

She forced a laugh, then reached for the bottle.

That night, despite the vat of wine sloshing around my body, I barely slept. It seemed as though every noise was louder; every rustle, every scuttle, dragged me back to consciousness. Images of Nick, Dominic, the witch doctor, Victoria, poor Connie on a life support machine, even Matthew's lap dance with the PC Truncheon, all flicked through my mind like an amateur cartoon strip. It was though my brain was desperately trying to file recent experiences but was at a loss at how to categorise them. I forced an image of Dominic to the front of my mind. The details of his face seemed hazy. His eyes were clear and his smile I could recall, but the rest seemed to be blurred, like a watermarked photograph. I switched the image to one of Nick. I tried to make the face in my mind smile, but it looked so sad, and the background grey. I zoomed closer. I could see every line, every crease deeply etched in his skin. I watched a tear trickling down his cheek. I heard sobs in my mind. I covered my head with my pillow, trying to block out the image. I couldn't. It grew bigger and bigger until I felt stabs in my stomach and my muscles clenched. It felt as though I was drowning in some kind of abstract pain. I tried to breathe but I couldn't. I tried to cry out but was paralysed. My skin felt hot, prickly. I was sweating from every pore. But I felt cold, so cold. Suddenly the image of Nick's face morphed into mine, but the eyes grew black, the expression sinister. Horns erupted out of the side of the head, thick red blood spewed from the mouth. The mouth widened and widened until the jaw unhinged and split from the face. I felt sucked
in, dragged down, I was falling. All I could see was red. All I could hear was a high-pitched scream.

‘Ellie? Ellie, are you OK?'

I sat bolt upright in bed and looked around. The morning sun was so fierce, it took a moment to register Victoria standing over me in her white nightie.

‘Are you OK?' she repeated.

I rubbed my eyes. ‘I think so,' I said, looking around. ‘Where are we?'

She put her palm against my forehead. ‘Shit, Ellie. You've got a raging fever.'

I lay back down and pulled up the blanket. My teeth began to chatter.

‘I'm freezing,' I said.

Victoria looked around. Her hand hovered over the glass of water next to my bed. Then she retracted it. ‘I'll get you some Evian,' she said. ‘Wait here.'

I smirked. I tried to whisper,
I'm not going anywhere,
but just as I pursed my lips, I felt my eyes roll back into their sockets.

Chapter 28

I
woke to see Nick's face peering down at me. He looked annoyed.

He turned to Victoria, who was again decked out in safari gear.

‘You got me all this way,' he said to her, ‘and it was the bloody flu.'

She shrugged her shoulders. ‘I thought it was dengue fever. That's what the symptom checker website implied.'

Nick rolled his eyes. ‘Flu. Brilliant. What a waste of my time.'

I pulled myself up in bed. ‘People die from flu, you know.'

He glanced back down at me. ‘Yeah, some people also die from eating a peanut,' he said. ‘You look fine to me.'

I scowled at him. ‘I didn't ask you to come.'

‘No,' he said, turning to Victoria, ‘your melodramatic friend did.' He put his hand on his hip and affected a silly high-pitched voice. ‘It's serious, Nick. It might be your last
chance to make peace with each other. Ellie needs you.' He rolled his eyes again. ‘All that for a head cold.'

‘Flu,' Victoria interrupted.

‘Whatever,' said Nick, glancing back down at me. ‘I'm surprised Mr Muscle isn't here, mopping your brow with his giant cock.'

Victoria screwed up her face. ‘That would be an odd thing to do.'

Nick huffed.

Victoria studied him for a moment as though she'd been presented with an unknown mammal for classification. Her expression implied she'd place him somewhere between baboon and rodent.