Saving Grace (34 page)

‘Does Beth know how bad the reviews are?’

‘She does. She thinks they’re all wrong, of course. I don’t know anymore. I’m too close to it, I can’t tell.’

‘And she’s . . . still there?’

Ted looks at Grace. ‘What do you mean, she’s still there?’

‘My impression of Beth is that she’s very keen to be close to success and money, but that were things to change, she wouldn’t necessarily be quite so keen to stay.’

‘Grace, I know you’ve been terribly hurt, and I know you must still be terribly angry, but I resent you saying anything negative about Beth.’

Grace, so calm when she walked in, shakes her head in disgust, a wave of anger washing over her. ‘Would you like to talk about resentment, Ted? Because we can do that. We can start with the big picture of how that woman came in and stole my life from under me and how it is taking everything in my power to get it back. And by the way, that doesn’t mean I want to get back together, that means I’m still trying to get my health back after the joke of a diagnosis that I’m quite certain was orchestrated in some way by Beth.’

Grace is astonished at the fury in her voice. She hadn’t known how livid she was, but it comes out now in a flood, a brace of words that won’t be silenced.

‘Clemmie? Wait outside. This needs to be private, between your father and me.’ She watches until Clemmie reluctantly walks out the door, before turning back to Ted. ‘Do you have any idea of what you did to me? I know it wasn’t you, Ted. I know the idea didn’t come from you, but you listened to her, to every suggestion, to every gentle push, didn’t you? I know she was behind me going to see the bloody doctor in the first place, and then those pills! Ted! Those pills!’ She groans at the memory. ‘They stole my life, Ted. Remember? You probably don’t remember because you were too busy being seduced by Beth, too busy obsessing over her every move with the ridiculous idea that it was because you were basing a character on her, when it was quite clear she was deliberately pushing me out of the marriage to make way for herself.

‘You let her edit your book, which seems to be the book that is bringing your career crashing down around your ears, and so blinded by . . . God, I don’t even know – lust, infatuation, your ego seduced by the attentions of a young woman – you let her move straight in! Oh, I know all about it. Straight into our bed and into your life. Now, I hear, she’s blowing through our savings and, yes, those are
our
savings, Ted, because all these years I have done nothing but support you, and look after you, and accompany you, and be the perfect bloody dutiful wife, and I get repaid with this betrayal.’

Grace stops then, tears springing to her eyes, planning on saying so much more. There is so much more left to say, but Ted looks as if he might have a heart attack and she wills herself to calm down, to focus on her breathing, to say what else needs to be said in a reasonable tone.

‘You need to know this, Ted. I have done my research. She has done this before. I met with a woman in Connecticut who had her life ruined by Beth. She spent all their money and disappeared when everything was gone. That’s why I’m asking if Beth is still around. I know financially we’re not in the position we used to be. I know your advances have been cut and I know that everything in publishing is down thirty per cent, but does Beth know? Does she understand the impact one bad book can have on a career in these times?’

Ted is white, seeming, suddenly, so very much more frail than he ever has before.

‘I have to ask this one thing,’ Grace says, softly now, her anger diffused. ‘Our finances. I know about all the spending. Please tell me what’s in our accounts. Tell me we still have our savings account, our IRAs. Tell me you know we’re still okay.’

‘I don’t know,’ he says. ‘I never look at those things. That was always Ellen’s domain.’

‘And now? Who is looking after it now?’

His voice is quiet. ‘I imagine it is Beth.’

‘I don’t suppose she has been showing up with new clothes, cars, jewellery?’

Ted shakes his head, but there is doubt in his eyes. ‘I don’t notice these things particularly, Grace. You know that.’ He pauses, seems to gather himself, rising from the table. ‘This is a witch hunt, Grace. It’s not true. I understand that hell hath no fury, but that you would come here and say all these things is just . . . beyond me. You aren’t the woman I thought you were. I am so disappointed in you trying to paint Beth in this way.’

‘You naïve fool,’ Grace says. ‘You won’t see it. She’s using you. She’ll drain you dry and when the money, or your career, has gone, whichever comes first, she will leave and you will be left with nothing.’

‘You have no idea what you are talking about. She loves me, Grace. I’m sorry that’s so hard to hear, and I’m sorry that this is hurting you. You and I are very different, Grace. I never felt you understood me, and what I go through, and how hard my life is, but Beth understands; she understands me in a way you never have. I will always be grateful for the life we had, and for Clemmie, but the rest of my life is with Beth. She is the woman I am supposed to be with now. Whatever you think of her, whatever ridiculous notions you come up with about her having some ulterior motive, you are wrong. She has fallen in love with me, and I with her, and our only regret is that someone had to get hurt in the process.’

Grace’s mouth drops open in disbelief. ‘You won’t listen, will you? Your ego is so damned huge, you aren’t able to hear any of this. After all these years of loyalty, everything I’ve done, this is how you repay me? You’re hurting me more than anyone has ever hurt me before, and you don’t care. Who are you? I don’t even think I know you anymore.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Ted says quietly, turning and walking out the door.

W
hen Clemmie walks back in, Grace is shaking, fighting back the tears.

‘I’m sorry,’ murmurs Grace, over and over. ‘I didn’t expect this to happen. I didn’t expect to be so upset.’ She breaks down, catching her breath as an unexpected sob makes its way into the room.

‘It’s okay,’ says Clemmie, putting her arm around her mother and gently rubbing her back. ‘It’s all going to be okay.’

‘It isn’t going to be okay,’ says Grace when the sobs have subsided and Clemmie has brought her sweet, milky tea. ‘There’s so much more to Beth than meets the eye, so much that your father is refusing to see. I’m quite sure she’s blowing through all the money. This is what she does. We’re not the first. I have just met with a woman in Connecticut called Emily Tallman who lost everything she had to Beth. She stole her husband, her children, her reputation, and drained them of every penny. And when she left, she reinvented herself as Beth McCarthy, and here she is. Doing it again.’

Clemmie just stares at her mother.

‘I think she planned this,’ Grace says. ‘I have no proof, but the more I think about it, how she came into our lives, how she happened to be at your table at the gala, the more I think she targeted us somehow. She’s a clever, clever girl, and ruthless, I think.’

‘You can’t be serious,’ says Clemmie. ‘She
planned
this? She
targeted
us? I don’t see how that’s possible, Mum.’

Grace nods. ‘Remember where we met her? The
Country Flair
gala?
Country Flair
had been promoting that event for months. She knew Ted was the guest of honour and she got herself a ticket. I remember at the time thinking how odd that she was there alone.’

‘But how did she know you were looking for an assistant?’ Clemmie is still sceptical.

‘I think that was just a lucky break for her. Had we not been, I imagine she would have asked for a job as an intern. She would have offered anything to get to us. I think she started off thinking she could reach us through you, Clem, but then she didn’t have to. It was the perfect opportunity.’

‘Do you really think this is true? If you’re right, what could be in it for her? Why would she do this?’

‘I think she’s a mixture of things. I’m not a doctor, and God knows, given what I’ve been through, I’m the last person to go around labelling people with mental disorders, but I think she’s probably something of a sociopath. She does this because she can; maybe she gets a thrill, maybe she’s jealous of people who have a life she perceives as somehow better, but she doesn’t show remorse. Or empathy. She deliberately sets out to break up marriages to get what she wants, or at least that’s how it seems, without ever worrying about the consequences.’

‘And why do you think she wants that?’

Grace shakes her head. ‘I don’t know. Narcissism, insecurity, jealousy. I would think some combination of the three. She talked a couple of times about her dysfunctional upbringing. I can’t believe that it’s as cruel as wanting to break up lives that seem happier than hers, but perhaps there’s something in that.’

‘So, what are you going to do?’ Clemmie says. ‘What are
we
going to do?’

‘I think she may be hoist by her own petard,’ Grace says slowly. ‘She wants money and power. If your father’s book is as bad as the reviews are saying, things will be a disaster. I can’t believe she’ll stay. She doesn’t love him. She loves the cachet of being his consort. And that won’t last if there’s no cachet.’

‘And when it’s over?’ Clemmie says tentatively. ‘Then you’d go back?’

‘I would.’ The tears spring back. ‘I can’t believe I’m saying it, but I would.’

T
he longer she is back home, the less she thinks about Dorset, about Patrick. It is painful to think about him, stirs up feelings she is certain would be best laid to rest.

She misses him. Misses his easy humour, how he made her laugh, how she was able to truly be herself, secure in the knowledge that that was enough; that it had always been enough.

But here she is, back in America, so close to the man who is still her husband, with a part of her longing to get her life back. Grace has spent years with Ted. Her life is with him, and even though he is now with Beth, it’s impossible to think of a future on her own. At least, a future on this side of the Atlantic.

Grace and Ted. Ted and Grace. If he were to ask, if he were to change his mind, want her to come home, how could she possibly say no?

And yet today, Grace has not been able to stop thinking about Patrick.

In the corner of her room in the guest suite at Sybil’s is a large chaise, a cashmere throw draped over one arm. Patrick has been in her thoughts all day, and finally, after dinner, she curls up in the chaise, pulling the throw over her feet, picking up her phone. Her heart jumps a little at the prospect of hearing his voice – it has been a while since they spoke – but it’s only Patrick, she tells herself. Nothing to be nervous about.

At the very least, Grace should tell him what has happened, she thinks. At the very least she owes him closure, of the story with Beth, if nothing else. She looks at her watch. Who knows where he is at eight o’clock in the evening in California.

‘Grace?’ His voice is familiar enough to instantly dissipate her nerves. Nerves? What was she thinking. It’s Patrick.
Patrick!

‘Patrick.’

She can hear the smile in his voice.

‘I was hoping you’d call. I was just sitting on my terrace having a drink and I found myself thinking about you.’

‘You mean, you’re not thinking about me all the time?’

‘Almost all the time.’ She can hear his smile down the phone, pictures him on a sweeping wood terrace lined with glass, looking out over the twinkling lights of Los Angeles. ‘I just had a break today during a lunch meeting, but don’t worry, I went straight back to thinking about you as soon as it was over.’

‘I hope you were wining and dining some bright young thing.’

‘If you can call Harvey Weinstein a bright young thing, then absolutely. Oh, Grace. It’s good to hear your voice. Are you still at the hotel?’

‘No. I’m in the spare room of Sybil’s, at Sparkill.’

There is a pause. ‘You’re
home
?’

‘Depends on how you look at it. A few minutes away, yes.’

‘And how is it?’

‘Weird. In many ways it doesn’t feel like my home anymore. I feel like an alien uprooted. I’m not sure I belong anywhere anymore, and it’s difficult, obviously, knowing I could bump into Ted or Beth wherever I go.’

‘Have you?’

‘Not bumped into them unexpectedly. I did see Ted, but it didn’t go so well. I was so sure he would be able to see that I was telling the truth about Beth . . .’

‘That story was extraordinary!’ Patrick interrupts. ‘I couldn’t believe it when you emailed me. We were so right, that she had done this before.’

‘I know! But Ted wouldn’t hear it. Any of it. He ended up storming out.’

‘Ouch.’

‘He has always been stubborn, but I still thought he’d listen to me. Not that I behaved that well. I didn’t expect to be so upset, but I ended up getting terribly angry, which surprised me. I had no idea I was carrying around so much rage, but I was furious. How could Ted be so stupid? And financially! It’s a disaster! She’s in charge of the money, so God only knows how much she’s been spending. And his book. Oh, Patrick. His book. Have you heard?’

‘I have. The reviews haven’t been very good.’

‘Not good? They’re terrible. He’s made himself a laughing stock. God only knows what his next book deal will be, or if he’ll even be able to get a deal. The truth is he’s been struggling with the last few books. No one knows, other than his publisher and agent, of course, but his sales have been plummeting, and everyone’s hope was that this book would be the comeback. I think his career might be over. I do. I think this girl has ruined his life too.’

‘So, what’s the solution?’

There is a silence. Grace doesn’t say what she has been thinking, which is that if she moves back in, if they get back to normal, Ted will be able to write again. Together they will be able to revive his career, save face, again be the golden couple they have always been.

She doesn’t say it, doesn’t want Patrick to know this is what she has been thinking. She isn’t thinking it now, the mere sound of Patrick’s voice is enough to wash her with a familiarity and safety that she doesn’t feel with Ted, has never felt with Ted.