Mark looked into his lap and gave a short bark of laughter. ‘You think I’m shallow?’ he said, looking up at her.
‘No,’ Chloe began, and then a surge of impatience overtook her. Why shouldn’t she say what she thought? ‘Well, yes, actually – at times.’
‘Now we’re getting to it,’ he said, staring at her, a malevolent glint in his eye. ‘You expect too much of men, Chloe. We’re not given to excesses of emotion. To women, things might be myriad shades of grey – but to men, it’s pretty much just black and white.’
‘Not all men.’
As soon as she said it, she knew she’d made a mistake.
Mark snorted loudly and derisively. ‘I presume by that you mean Alex? Really, Chloe, I thought you’d be the last person to defend him at the moment, since he’s proved to be so flighty.’
Chloe stood up abruptly, her wine glass wobbling dangerously as she did so. She was so enraged that she didn’t notice Mark reaching out quickly to catch the glass before it toppled. She had lost all efforts at control now. She came at him, her fists flailing, ready to inflict what damage she could. ‘How dare you!’ she cried. ‘How fucking dare you!’
She tried to connect, but Mark caught her wrists tightly with a strength that surprised her. She struggled with him but he held on firmly, and the small bolts of pain that shot through her arms stopped her in her tracks. Her face was contorted with anger as she spat at him, ‘Why do you have to be so bloody horrible, Mark? Why do you have to be such an arrogant, condescending bastard? You’re always so bloody rude. And you’ve always hated Alex. What has he ever done to you except be civil?’
‘He has you,’ Mark murmured fiercely, holding her wrists tight.
‘What?’ Shocked, she was suddenly still. ‘What do you mean?’
‘You know full well what I mean, Chloe,’ he said, his voice full and deep. His grip on her wrists slackened and he leaned forward as though to kiss her. But she quickly stepped backwards.
‘You’re outrageous!’ she said, her voice high-pitched and shrill. ‘What on earth are you doing? You HAD me, Mark. A long time ago, you HAD me. And you blew it. You ruined it completely with your selfishness, your complete lack of… of…’ She felt agitated, breathless, and sat down suddenly, putting her head in her hands, trying to resist the urge to sob. What the hell was going on with her life?
She heard the scrape of a chair as Mark drew his closer to hers. She could feel his breath on her face, even though she wouldn’t look at him. He was quiet for a moment, and she waited, every nerve primed for what might come next.
‘Chloe.’ His voice was a sigh. He wrapped his arms around her, and she held herself stiff but didn’t push him away. ‘I know I ruined it. I know. I just didn’t realise… what I had, how important it was, until it wasn’t there any more.’
She could feel his chin resting on the top of her head. It felt so nice to be held. She closed her eyes and imagined they were Alex’s arms wrapped around her, then wondered if that was what Alex did when he held her – imagined she was Julia – or if, at this exact moment, her husband’s arms were wrapped around a stunning brunette. For a second, hatred for Alex pulsed through her, and she gasped at the strength of it.
The noise made Mark move. He pulled back from her and looked into her face. ‘What are you thinking, Chloe?’ he asked.
She stared at Mark. She saw him every day. She thought she knew his every expression, but here, just at this moment, it seemed there was more kindness and concern in his features than she’d ever seen before.
He leaned towards her.
I don’t know where Alex is, she thought blearily. Or who he is any more. Or even if he cares. And Mark is here. He’s here for me, right now.
Mark saw how she was looking at him, and immediately pulled her close. As his lips pressed against hers, she blanked all other thoughts from her mind, just let herself feel his warm touch against her skin. As though brought back to life by it, heat was transmitted to her through that small, soft connection, and she felt herself stir, her own mouth beginning to respond in kind.
72
The plane journey was bringing back uncomfortable memories for Alex, of his journey from Australia ten years ago. Now he’d made another choice, and once again he was questioning the wisdom of it. Meanwhile, he was going through the motions, sitting as though in a cramped theatre, watching movies, sipping wine, eating questionable food, while they hurtled through the air in a reinforced metal rocket. He kept trying to focus on Amy and what she needed from him, but his thoughts reverted back to Chloe at every opportunity. Plus, now Mark was in their house, and he was helpless to do anything about that. And Chloe was vulnerable, and he had seen the way Mark looked at her – predatory – wolfish, almost, at times. Alex wasn’t blind to the truth, even if he didn’t always choose the best course of action in dealing with it.
He remembered the first time he had seen Chloe. It had been Amy he was looking for, but through the brief cloud of disappointment he had focused enough to see the possibility of something else – the emergence of a new fork in his path. And so he had taken it, and never regretted it. Even after the past week he had never once wished himself back to a time before Chloe; he had only wished away the pain of it all. How on earth had he got into this, and how was he going to get out?
The lights were dimmed so they could get some sleep. There were so many forms of entertainment to choose from on the LCD screen in front of him that he couldn’t seem to make a decision, but he knew he wouldn’t rest. Amy appeared to be sleeping, though he thought he knew better. She was a little too still. Her head had fallen towards his shoulder, but the only thing connecting them was a few fine wisps of her hair. A little earlier, as he glanced towards her, he’d thought he saw the damp course of tears on her cheeks, but had feigned ignorance. They were sitting too close to others to be able to talk.
He leaned his head back, closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on the drone of the engines. He wanted the practicalities of the court case to take precedence in his mind, for he had the feeling that getting Amy and himself through the next few days was going to be quite a task. But one thing kept coming back to him: that this wasn’t over – and although he didn’t know exactly what would happen during the next few days and weeks, he was starting to dread it. If only this aeroplane could have flown him further away from the inevitable, but, like everything else in life, it was moving inexorably forward.
73
Chloe woke up with a start, a shiver of trepidation running through her before she even had time to think. She looked down to find herself sprawled among a heap of bedclothes that barely covered her. It was cold. She still had her bra on underneath her half-buttoned shirt, and her knickers. But that was all. And she could hear the radio playing downstairs. She shivered, swung her legs over the side of the bed, and sat up. Her head was pounding, though she didn’t remember drinking that much, and her eyes felt swollen.
A wave of queasiness washed over her as she thought about the previous night. Mark had kissed her, and she’d kissed him back. What a mistake that had been. After they’d broken apart she remembered bursting into guilty, hysterical tears, and ranting and crying while the expression on Mark’s face varied from sympathetic to shocked – mostly the latter. She recalled him helping her upstairs and cuddling her on the bed when she had finally calmed down, and then he’d started to undress her…