Unfaithful (20 page)

"Becky, please. Tell me." He hadn't called her Becky for many years. It had been his pet name for her when they first met. She relented a little.

"Oh, I suppose I may as well tell you. You're going to find out at the hospital anyway."

"Tell me what?" He held his breath, dreading what his wife was about to say.

"I'm pregnant," she said slowly.

He exhaled loudly and sank on to the bed next to her. "Pregnant," he repeated, as if he'd never heard the word before. "How is that possible?"

She looked at him and smiled sarcastically, "the usual way, Mark, darling. It wasn't the Immaculate Conception. I'm sure you can remember."

"It's been months since we've made love," he was trying to figure it out.

She could almost hear his brain ticking over. He was finding it difficult to remember which woman he'd been sleeping with and when. "Getting mixed up are we?" she looked at him in disgust.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked.

"You know very well what it means," she replied. "I know you've been cheating on me." She winced as the pain grabbed her again.

"I have not been cheating on you," he lied shrilly.

"Please, Mark, don't insult me anymore than you already have by lying to me. I saw the texts on your phone. I know!"

He sat silently beside her. He didn't know what to say or what to do. He'd just had two huge bombshells dropped on him and he didn't have a clue how he was going to extricate himself from the fiasco, so he sat there, in stunned silence. "What now?" he managed, eventually.

"Well, right now, I'm going to the hospital. She started to head towards the stairs, but was finding walking very painful. "Help me," she reached out for his arm.

He rushed to her side and she leaned against him for support. He helped her downstairs, just as the ambulance was pulling into the drive. They banged loudly on the door. Mark pulled open the front door and two ambulance men rushed inside, with a bed on wheels.

"You must be the patient," one of the men approached Rebecca and helped her onto the trolley. "Yes, that's me," she managed a wan smile. She explained to him what had happened, as they bundled her into the ambulance.

"Darling, I'm here for you," Mark squeezed her hand gently.

"I don't want you here, Mark," she said, staring at the ceiling, refusing to make eye contact with him.

"Please, Becky, I want to make sure you're ok," he pleaded with her.

"I'll be fine, Mark, I don't need you, just go away. Leave me alone!"

Mark disembarked slowly from the ambulance and watched as the vehicle sped quickly down the drive and out onto the road, its red lights flashing and siren blaring loudly. He stood there in the drive with the pouring rain pounding down on top of him. He was soaked within seconds, but he didn't care.

He couldn't comprehend what had just happened. Two hours ago he was sitting in the conservatory drinking tea with his wife, looking forward to the weekend. Now his world had disintegrated. He turned around and walked dejectedly inside.

He kept replaying in his mind the look of contempt that he had seen on his wife's face. I wonder how long she's known, he thought, as he wandered aimlessly into the kitchen. He shivered suddenly. Someone walking over your grave, Rebecca always used to say. He shivered again at the thought of it.

He was chilled, chilled to the bone and chilled to his very soul. He opened the door to the drinks cabinet and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. He grabbed a glass tumbler from the sink and poured himself a large glass of whiskey straight. He couldn't be bothered with ice. He knocked the drink back in seconds and poured himself another large glass. He downed that glass in a few gulps too.

Then he sat down on a kitchen stool, waiting for the tension in his brain to ease.

It was at times like this that he wished he had someone to talk to. He had acquaintances; people who he played golf with, went out to charity dinners with, showed off to, but nobody who he would classify as a true friend. Nobody he could trust.

He couldn't tell any of those people about his problems. They would be shocked and horrified. It was all about social standing with the people in his circle. There was nobody. He was alone, even more alone now that Rebecca knew that he'd been cheating on him. She'd been his best friend, his only true friend, for so long. She was his wife, his lover, his business partner, his very best friend. He knew he could trust her implicitly and could count on her wholeheartedly and he'd been so sure of her faithfulness and trust for so long that he'd started taking her for granted. He didn't know when it had started, when he'd started to want more than her. He was well and truly alone now, stuck with his thoughts, all on his own, with nobody to blame but himself.

He poured himself another whiskey. His head was slowly starting to numb. He wallowed in the glow for a few moments, letting the peace wash over him. "Shit!" he shouted suddenly. The full consequences of his actions were starting to hit him. "What the hell is she going to do?!" he shouted. "I'm going to lose everything, my home, my business, my life!"

His mobile phone began to ring. He pounced on it, hoping it was word from the hospital. It was Chris, saying that he wouldn't be home at the weekend. He was going surfing in Donegal with some college friends. Mark didn't know how to tell him that Rebecca was in hospital. He didn't want to deal with having to explain to his son what he'd done.

He rang the hospital after Chris had hung up and asked for an update on his wife. She was stable but they were keeping her in overnight for observation, that's all they would tell him. He regretted drinking so much.

He wanted to go to the hospital and try to sort things out with Rebecca but he knew he was in no fit state to go anywhere with the amount of whiskey he'd consumed. He resolved to get up early the next morning and see her then he poured himself another large tumbler of whiskey and drank until he passed out.

Chapter 25

The shrill ringing of the landline woke Mark abruptly from his drunken stupor. It took him a minute to recall the events of the previous evening.

"Rebecca," he gasped as he reached out and grabbed the phone just before it rang off.

"Yes," he breathed hoarsely into the phone, his mouth was as dry as sandpaper.

"Mark, it's me," his wife's voice came down the line.

"Darling," he croaked.

"I'm going to sign myself out of hospital later this morning, will you come and collect me, please?" she asked.

"Of course, of course, I'll be straight over," he said, already struggling out of bed.

"Thanks," she hung up the phone abruptly, not giving him a chance to say anything else.

Mark sank back into the pillows, allowing himself a few minutes before he forced himself to get up and face the day. He dreaded what lay ahead. He was absolutely resolved to salvage his relationship with Rebecca. He didn't care what he had to do to win her back. Nothing was unsalvageable and he always got what he wanted.

It would take hard work, determination and a lot of grovelling, he realised that, but he was prepared to do anything to keep his personal and professional lives. He hadn't worked this hard for so long to potentially be homeless and jobless just because of a few indiscretions with some floozies who he really couldn't care less about. He knew it would take a Herculean effort to win Rebecca back, but he knew he could it.

He moaned, covering his eyes with the goose down pillow in an attempt to push the migraine that he could feel building behind his eyes. There was a reason that he didn't drink much anymore; he was getting too old to stand the almost debilitating hangover headaches. A cold shower and a strong black coffee and he felt almost as good as new.

He sped down the road in his Audi A6 and drove the half hour distance to the hospital. He paused in the hospital car park for a few moments, bracing himself for the fight that he knew lay ahead.

Rebecca was sitting by her hospital bed. She was half-dozing in the chair, her face pale and her dark hair looking dishevelled. She was looking a bit crumpled and the worse for wear, still wearing the tracksuit she had worn the previous night. Mark's heart went out to her as he approached her.

He touched her knee gently, “darling,” he whispered. She jumped.

“Mark,” she brushed her hair out of her eyes distractedly, barely glancing at him.

“How are you? What did the doctors say?” Mark asked anxiously.

“I'm fine, the baby's fine. I was just a bit shaken up, that's all. They said I need to watch out for any strange cramps or unusual movements over the next few days and that I should come back if anything changes for the worse. Otherwise, I need to rest and not overdo things.” She said all this despondently, speaking as if she was a newsreader, completely detached from the entire situation.

“Let's go home and I'll take care of you.” He offered Rebecca his arm, which she took mutely and reluctantly as they made their way to the car.

Mark turned on the radio in an attempt to break the awkward silence that had descended upon them in the car. Rebecca was usually very chatty, and he could barely get a word in edgeways. Now, she just sat there, in the passenger seat, staring mutely out the window.

He tried to make small talk but her answers were monosyllabic. It was like he was talking to himself. He was waiting for Rebecca to bring up the “issue” of his cheating. Part of him was starting to think she'd forgotten about what she'd said the previous night, but he knew that was very unlikely; simply wishful thinking on his part.

“I can't believe we're having a baby,” Mark smiled at Rebecca as he helped her to settle on the couch.

“I'm having a baby, not you, Mark,” Rebecca snapped.

Mark bit his tongue. “It's my baby too,” he said evenly.

“Biologically this baby is yours.”

“Look, Rebecca, I may not have been the best husband recently, but I've been a good father to Chris and I want to be a good father to this baby too. Whatever happens between us I want to be a part of our baby's life. He or she will only ever have one dad, and that's me, whether you like it or not.”

“Well, I don't like it. I don't like it at all!” she retorted. “Who do you think you are? The audacity of you! You think you can cheat on me and nothing will change. Good old Rebecca, always there for you, dependable Rebecca.”

“I'm sorry,” he said, having the decency to at least look ashamed. He couldn't meet her eyes. “Sorry! You think sorry is going to make it all go away, do you? Not good enough Mark, not good enough at all! Anyway, I don't care about your apologies. They're empty words. You were always so gifted with words, Mark. You're so quick to say “I love you” and “darling” but it clearly doesn't mean anything to you. I don't mean anything to, I doubt I ever did.”

“Don't say that Rebecca. It's not true. I love you, I've always loved you, that's never changed and never will change for me.”

“Love!” she shouted. “You don't know the meaning of the word. How can you love me and sleep with another woman or women. Who knows how many women you've been with over the years? Your silly little secretary is the only woman I've found out about. You have betrayed me, Mark McNamara. You have betrayed our son, our marriage and our lives together. I gave you everything, faithfully, honestly and you just threw it all back in my face for a bit of sex with someone else. You don't love me and don't insult my intelligence by saying otherwise.”

“Becky, please,” Mark begged. He knelt on the floor in front of her and clasped her hands in his.

She looked into his face. The face she'd loved so much for so long. He was her first and only love. He'd broken her heart and she doubted he could ever repair it. She wouldn't admit it to him, but she still loved him and knew a part of hers always would love him, no matter how much she didn't want to.

How could she ever trust him again? She'd always doubt him. She felt her resolve beginning to slip ever so slightly as she gazed into his handsome face. She knew every part of that face; every wrinkle, every freckle, every dimple, the cleft chin that Chris had inherited. She wondered if the baby would inherit his chin and dimples too. All this flashed through her mind in a matter of minutes.

“I'll do anything,” Mark pleaded, “anything. I'll change, I promise. I will never even look at another woman again. I don't want to be with any other woman, only you. I don't know what I would do without you. I can't even begin to imagine my life without you in it. Please, Rebecca, please. Now we're having a baby together. It can be a chance for us to start again, start fresh. I'll go to marriage counselling, anything. You name it, I'll do it. I know I've behaved despicably, inexcusably. Please Rebecca, at least say you'll think about it.”

“Oh, Mark,” she sank back against the cushions on the couch. She suddenly felt overwhelmingly tired. “I'd love a drink right now,” she sighed.

“Maybe you could have something small?” Mark suggested.

“I'd better not,” Rebecca replied. “I think I'll have an early night instead.”

She struggled to her feet. “I love you.” He took her hand as she walked away.