Unfaithful (30 page)

"Good to see you too,” she managed to force herself to say.

“Would you like a drink?” he asked.

“Yes, please, just some orange juice would be nice.”

“You look beautiful,” he said, as they sipped their drinks. “You're blooming,” he looked appreciatively at her cleavage.

“Thank you,” she smiled stiffly, suddenly feeling self-conscious at the steadiness of his gaze on her.

She was grateful for the undercurrent of chatter from the other guests. She'd never been good at small talk, and it felt peculiar to her that she should be sitting there with her husband and not have one thing to say to him.

She thought of all the many and long conversations that they'd had over the years and felt momentarily sad that their relationship had deteriorated to this sorry point. She sighed inwardly. She didn't want to talk to him, but she knew that she had to force herself to be pleasant for the next few hours. She had to convince him that she might be interested in giving their marriage another go until she got what she wanted from him.

She took a deep breath and shone her brightest smile on her husband.

“It's very busy here this evening, isn't it?” she said.

“Yes, Jacob's is the first Michelin starred restaurant in Dublin,” Mark said, sounding proud. Anyone would think that he owned the place, the way he was talking.

“I wonder what's on the menu, I'm absolutely ravenous.”

“They should be seating us very shortly,” Mark said, glancing at his watch. “I made dinner reservations for eight o' clock and it's ten to eight now.”

“Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. McNamara,” the restaurant manager approached them right on cue, “your table is ready for you.”

He smiled pleasantly at them and led the way into the busy restaurant.

The place was humming with activity and conversation. Rebecca prayed a silent prayer that Penelope and Shona were already sitting discreetly. She dared not look around the room for fear of making eye contact with them and making Mark suspicious of her intentions. They busied themselves with menus and wine lists and ordering their meal.

Rebecca was grateful for the distraction. Mark ordered an aperitif before dinner and downed it quickly before ordering another one. He must be nervous, Rebecca thought, watching him as she sipped her sparkling water. She would have given anything for a white wine herself at that moment, anything to steady her nerves.

They spent most of their meal talking about Christopher and the baby and the business. Mark was careful not to mention anything about the fiasco that was his exhibition.

He bounced a few ideas off her about how to promote the business and they sat chatting amiably for some time. Rebecca was shocked at how much Mark was drinking and how quickly he was knocking back the wine. He'd made his way through one bottle of wine during the meal and had just ordered another dessert wine.His careful facade was beginning to slide the more inebriated he became. He reached across the table and took Rebecca's hand.

“I love you,” he whispered, looking imploringly into her eyes.

“I want you back. I want us to be a family again; you, me, Chris and the baby. Please, Rebecca, won't you give me one last chance.”

He held her hand tightly. She smiled at him and squeezed his hand gently.

“Well, I have been considering our situation carefully,” she said slowly, “and I've been thinking that maybe we should try again.”

“Really?” Mark exclaimed, almost knocking his full wine glass all over the table. “Really, you think there might still be hope for us?”

“Maybe,” Rebecca said, not able to meet his eyes. She took another long sip of her water. “However, there will have to be some conditions.”

“Oh, darling, anything, I'll do anything, you name it. All you have to do is tell me and I'll do whatever you want to make it work. I know I've let you down terribly.”

“That's an understatement,” Rebecca couldn't restrain herself. Mark looked at her anxiously and Rebecca coughed in an effort to cover her words.

“Do you still love me?” Mark asked, still holding her hand tightly.

“Yes, I still love you, Mark,” Rebecca replied honestly.

She did love him and knew that a part of her always would love him. He had been such a big part of her life for so long, that she knew that she would never be able to erase him completely from her heart and her mind.

Mark's face lit up and he beamed at her. His handsome face was transformed. All the stress and tension seemed to leave him and the knotted frown between his eyebrows slowly faded away.

“If you still love me and I know that I still love you then there's hope for us,” he said, “I know we can do this, Rebecca, I know it. I'll do whatever it takes to make you happy. This calls for a celebration.”

He beckoned the waiter and ordered a bottle of Champagne. Rebecca groaned inwardly. She didn't want him getting too inebriated, not before she'd gotten what she wanted from him anyway.

“There are conditions to our reunion, Mark,” Rebecca repeated her earlier words.

“Anything you want, darling, anything you want, just tell me. Your wish is my command.”

He was starting to slur his words slightly and Rebecca knew that she had to hurry up before he was completely incoherent. She opened her handbag and carefully withdrew her paperwork.

“I need you to sign these papers, Mark,” she said, looking at him directly.

She unfolded the documents and passed them to Mark.

“Oh, Rebecca, do we really need to be bothered with paperwork at a time like this?” Mark asked, refilling his Champagne glass.

“Yes, Mark, it's important to me, important to us, for our new beginning,” Rebecca insisted. “You know how much I hate paperwork, darling, you've always handled that side of things. What's it about anyway? Can't you just sign it for me like you always do?”

“No, Mark, these papers need your signature. It's just some paperwork for the business that I need to get out of the way before we can start fresh."

Mark looked at her then and smiled.

“Of course, darling, I'll sign them, just show me where.”

Rebecca turned the pages to the last section and pointed to the area where Mark needed to sign. “Right there, darling,” she said, handing him a pen.

Mark took the pen and signed his name and the date without bothering to read any further. Rebecca held her breath, hoping and praying that he wouldn't want to read the documents. He handed her back the paperwork with a flourish and smiled indulgently at her.

“What would I do without you?” he asked.

“I honestly don't know, darling,” she returned his beaming smile, “more Champagne?”

She reached out and refilled his glass. Then she took his face in her hands and kissed him long and slow full on the mouth.

There was a rustling behind him, but he hardly noticed it as he lost himself in kissing his wife.

“I missed you,” he said, looking deep into her eyes, his eyes dark with lust.

Rebecca pulled away from him suddenly, and started checking the paperwork again, just as two women passed their table. Mark thought he recognised Shona's tumble of curly blonde hair, but instantly dismissed the thought from his mind.

“I've had too much to drink,” he said, rubbing his eyes.

Rebecca stood up and handed the documents to a short, stocky man in a dark suit who immediately deposited the papers in his leather briefcase.

“What's going on here?” Mark asked, looking in bewilderment at his wife. “Who is that man?”

“I've had enough of you, Mark McNamara,” Rebecca hissed, ignoring his question. “It's over.” “Rebecca, please,” Mark stuttered, but she walked away from him, leaving him sitting there alone.

“Rebecca, wait!” he got up but stumbled, sending the Champagne bottle crashing to the floor. He lost sight of Rebecca in the commotion and she was long gone by the time he made his way out to the foyer.

He tried calling her mobile phone but she didn't answer. It went straight to voicemail. He went into the bar and ordered a whiskey. He knew he'd had far too much to drink and was beyond thinking straight.

“I'll deal with her in the morning,” he decided as he ordered a taxi back to the flat which he now called home.

Chapter 38

Mark sat bolt upright in bed. “Where the hell am I?” he said aloud, forgetting where he was for a minute. “Ow, ow, ow!” he moaned, clutching his head which was throbbing from the huge hangover that was beginning to throb incessantly.

His mouth was parched dry from too much alcohol the night before. He flung back the duvet and forced himself into a sitting position at the edge of the bed. What time is it? He wondered, suddenly noticing the bright sunlight piercing through his thin, unlined curtains. He reached out for his mobile phone. It was quarter past eleven. He checked his phone to see if Rebecca had left any messages for him. There was nothing in his inbox. He tried calling her, still no answer. He vaguely recollected the events of the previous night. He felt quite confused as he couldn't quite remember clearly what had happened.

“Answer your bloody phone, woman!” he yelled at his mobile, before shuffling towards his kitchen area and boiling the kettle for some strong black coffee. He knew he needed to clear his fuddled mind and fast. He looked around his pathetic little flat and sighed. His flat comprised of one large room, which housed his kitchen, living and dining areas. He had a tiny bedroom where he slept in a narrow single bed and an even smaller bathroom where he could barely turn around.

He sighed deeply when he thought about the huge, beautiful house that was Cois Farraige.
You stupid, stupid man,
he thought miserably.
How could you have done this to yourself? No woman is worth losing everything and being reduced to this lowly existence
. He poured two large spoons of coffee into a big mug and drank deeply. He tried to recall the events of the previous night.

All he could remember was that Rebecca had seemed to want to make a go of their marriage again and then she'd asked him to sign some paperwork for the business. He had no memory of what happened after that, as much as he tried to force himself to remember. He decided to clean himself up and go to visit his wife at Cois Farraige.

Mark jumped into his Audi and sped down the coast road towards Cois Farraige. He'd texted Rebecca to let her know that he was on his way, but she still wasn't responding or answering her phone.
She must be tired
, he thought, trying to dismiss the slightly uneasy feeling that was beginning to take hold deep inside him. He was getting peculiar flashbacks from his dinner with Rebecca the previous night.

He had one memory of her leaning in close to him and kissing him deeply and another memory of her leaving their table saying that it was over. I must be getting mixed up, he tried to convince himself. I really need to start cutting back on my drinking.

He sped down the road, a feeling of dread increasing its grip on his heart the closer he got to Cois Farraige. He shook himself in an effort to dismiss the negative thoughts from his mind.

He pulled into the drive of Cois Farraige just as a large removal truck was pulling out. His sense of panic and fear began to increase. His car came to a screeching halt directly outside his front door.

He jumped out, locking the car doors automatically behind him. He quickened his pace as he made his way towards the big red front door. He was trying to gather his wits together, but at the same time his feeling of dread was beginning to engulf him. He fumbled about in his pockets for the front door key and tried the key in the lock. The key wouldn't turn in the lock, in spite of his numerous efforts.

He went to the window and peered inside. There weren’t any curtains hanging and he could see that the place was bare of any furniture. He began to panic. His heart was pounding in his chest. He ran back to the front door and tried his key again. Suddenly he noticed a piece of paper pinned to the door. He ripped it from the door and began to read frantically. It was from Rebecca.

Dear Mark,

I'm leaving you forever. There is no hope whatsoever of a reconciliation, so don't even think about it. By the way, thanks so much for signing the paperwork last night. You willingly signed the house and the business over to me. You are now the proud owner of absolutely nothing.

Unfaithfully Yours,

Rebecca

Revenge

The second book in The Unfaithful S
eries

By Joanne Clancy

Chapter 1

"I want them dead," Mark typed furiously, his speed matched only by his seething anger. He paused for a moment to take another long swig of the whiskey which he'd been drinking all afternoon and slammed the glass down before continuing. "My wife has ripped me off for everything I own and she refuses to see sense. I wan
t her and her new best friends killed. They conspired against me. Killing them is the only way I have out of the mess they've caused me. They’ve ruined my life."