Guilty Hearts Page 6

  “Do you think it was smart telling her? If I remember rightly, you said you weren’t going to be crossing any boundaries,” Zoe said with a wry smile.

  Rachel laughed. “You know me, my mouth speaks before my brain engages sometimes.” The truth was she was relieved to have it out in the open so they both knew where they stood. If she wanted Kathryn to bare her soul to her in an interview, the least she could do was be honest about who she was.

  Zoe turned to look at her. “So what did she say after you told her?”

  “Not much. She looked embarrassed and then she got a call from the hospital about her husband and that sort of put an end to our conversation.”

  “Why what happened?”

  “I didn’t get the full story, just that something had fallen on his head.”

  “Oh no — is he ok?”

  “I don’t think it was serious. She had to rush off though so I don’t know much.”

  “Let’s hope it knocked some sense into him.”

  A sudden vicious gust of wind swept past them, sending a shiver through Zoe’s body.

  “Let’s go and get a coffee, I’m freezing,” Zoe said, standing and pulling her multi-coloured scarf closer to her neck. “Why did I agree to meet you here? It’s crazy and I don’t know how you can eat ice cream in this weather.”

  Rachel rose to her feet, oblivious to the cold, as her jacket flapped open, revealing just a thin fabric underneath. “Why not? Did you know people consume more ice cream in the winter than they do in the summer?” She quickened her pace to keep up with Zoe’s long strides.

  “Really? And where did you hear that?” Zoe asked, looking down at her in disbelief.

  “On the Internet.”

  “Oh right, ’cause everything that’s written on the Internet has to be true.”

  “Well, it does make sense. If you think about it, most people comfort eat more in the winter,” Rachel said, polishing off the cone.

  “Is that what you’re doing?”

  Rachel stared thoughtfully ahead of her. “Zoe, we both know where my comfort comes from,” she said with an exaggerated wink.

  Zoe winced. “Don’t remind me.”

  “Oh, you’re so frigid, honestly.” Sometimes Rachel thought Zoe was born in the wrong era — that she would have been happier living in Victorian times where sex was hidden and not spoken about. She often wished she would just loosen up and live a little.

  “I’m not frigid, I just don’t understand your behaviour, that’s all. It’s so out of odds with the rest of your character.”

  “You’re thinking too much — as usual.”

  “Studies have shown —”

  “Oh stop it with your mumbo jumbo nonsense! And stop trying to analyse me, if I wanted a therapist I’d go and see one,” Rachel said, blowing out a noisy breath.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “There’s no need to apologise,” Rachel said with a fixed stare, “just get off my back. You’re always probing and prodding, hoping to uncover some dark dirty secret. Well, there isn’t one. I’m the way I am because I just am.”

  Zoe met the rebuke with a sheepish grin. “Ok I’ll let it drop. From now on I promise to leave my other persona at the office.”

  “Good.”

  “Friends?” Zoe asked, holding out her little finger.

  “Always.” Rachel entwined her finger with Zoe’s. At times, Zoe made her feel crazy — everything in her world was black or white, no room for grey, whereas that’s all there was in Rachel’s world.

  They made their way past the Princess Diana Memorial fountain and headed towards an outdoor coffee stand that was situated by the Albert Memorial. The server’s bulky body was wrapped in a dark-brown sheepskin jacket and a cream woolly hat covered his head; his bare hands were red from the cold air, matching the tip of his bulbous nose.

  “A large coffee, please,” Zoe said as she turned to Rachel. “Do you want something?”

  Rachel shook her head from side to side as the wind blew fiercely across her face. She scanned the vastness of the 350-acre park. She closed them briefly and drew in a deep breath to totally absorb the freshness of the air.

  “This is what I want one day,” Rachel said to Zoe, who now appeared beside her, happier that she had something hot to drink. “A space where I can breathe. That’s the thing with London, there’s too many people and not enough open spaces.”

  “You can say that again.” Zoe took a sip of the coffee, then wrapped both hands around it to keep them warm.

  A man dressed in a black overcoat walked briskly by them, his eyes lingering on Rachel’s face a few seconds longer than human protocol allowed.

  “Me thinks you’ve got an admirer,” Zoe said, her eyes following the stranger as he kept looking backwards at Rachel every few seconds.

  “Wrong sex.”

  “Talking of sex, have you got any plans for this evening?”

  Rachel rolled her eyes. “Nope.”

  “Friday night and you’re staying in?” Zoe opened her eyes wide. “This has got to be a first, not that I’m judging,” she said, laughing.

  “I’m knackered, besides there’s not much action going on in the bars when the weather’s this cold,” Rachel said, putting her hand over her mouth as she stifled a yawn. The truth was the thought of meeting someone else didn’t appeal to her. For whatever reason, she seemed to be getting all the thrills she needed from Kathryn.

  “Do you fancy Chinese and a DVD?”

  “Could do.”

  “Great, I think we should start making our way home,” Zoe said, looking up to the sky, as the grey clouds darkened and rain drops began to fall.

  CHAPTER 8

  Although Kathryn would have preferred to skip the meal, Gareth had insisted they attend. Meeting Gareth’s brother and his wife for dinner was a monthly ritual. On any other given day, she wouldn’t have minded, but she was still feeling anxious about her last meeting with Rachel. Until she actually saw her again, she wouldn’t know if her reaction had offended her. She prayed it hadn’t.

  Nobody at the table could have ever been aware of the turmoil she was going through as she sat placidly, looking like the picture-perfect wife. Her plate was the only one that still had food remaining on it — she had barely touched the steamed sea bass and assortment of vegetables, such were the butterflies in her stomach she didn’t think she’d be able to keep anything down.

  “Nice choice of restaurant, Gareth,” Bill said, reaching over and slapping his brother on his back with a thud. “Isn’t it, Porsche?” he asked, planting a kiss on the cheek of his bleach-blonde wife, who sat beside him in a blue sparkling sequin dress, her hair wild and untamed.

  “It sure is. Thanks for a lovely meal,” Porsche said, fluttering her false eye lashes at Gareth, before turning to Kathryn and smiling as she eyed the silver and cream print dress she wore.

  “It’s our pleasure,” Gareth replied, taking hold of Kathryn’s hand and squeezing it gently.

  “So, Gareth tells me you’re working on some sort of cat project?” Bill said as he turned his strong and powerful-looking body in her direction. Ten years younger than Gareth, he had his brother’s good looks but personality wise, they couldn’t have been more different.

  “Oh God, cats, yuck,” Porsche interrupted, before Kathryn could respond.

  Kathryn forced a smile, trying to hide her annoyance before turning her attention to Bill. “Yes, a client of mine has a pair of Bengalese kittens arriving soon, she wanted —”

  “Some people have more money than sense!” Porsche interjected, as Bill used his napkin to dab at the beads of sweat forming on his tanned forehead, his dark blue eyes looking intensely at her.

  “Oh I don’t know, just because they’re cats doesn’t mean they don’t deserve to live in stimulating surroundings. The whole idea of the design is to emulate their natural living conditions as closely as possible,” Kathryn continued despite Porsche scowling face.

  “Cats should be kept outs
ide, that’s the only natural place for them,” Porsche said, breaking eye contact with Kathryn as she glanced around the elegant Michelin-starred restaurant and its well-dressed patrons. She tapped the tips of her long finger nails on the stark white cotton table cloth.

  “I think it would be too dangerous for them, seeing as the property is close to a main road.” Kathryn didn’t know why she let herself get dragged into confrontations with Porsche each time they met. It had always been the same from the first time they were introduced. Back when she had first met Gareth, she had found her sister-in-law very intimidating, now she saw her for what she was — a woman who was unhappy with her lot in life and felt everyone else should be just as miserable.

  Had they been friends, Porsche would have realised they had more in common than she could ever imagine. But as things stood, it seemed as if her mission in life was to state the opposite to whatever Kathryn said. If Kathryn said the sky was blue, Porsche would try to convince her it was black — she could never win with her.

  Porsche returned her gaze to Kathryn before snapping, “Then people shouldn’t have them.”

  “So what do you suggest? Have the animals put down rather than keep them in a safe environment?” Kathryn felt like screaming — this woman infuriated her and by the way she stared at her, she knew it.

  Porsche leaned towards her with a look of superiority, propping her elbows on the table. “I’m not saying that, what I —”

  “Porsche,” Gareth said firmly, “what people decide to do their animals has nothing to do with anyone but themselves.”

  “But —”

  “Perhaps you’d like some bubbly?” Bill said quickly, clearly attempting to break the building tension.

  Porsche’s face brightened, her eyes wrinkling with amusement. “Go on then,” she said, relaxing back into her chair and flashing a devastating smile at Bill’s disapproving face.

  Gareth caught the attention of a young, well-groomed, dark-haired waiter and ordered a bottle of champagne.

  “I’d like to see pictures of the cats,” Bill whispered to Kathryn as Porsche’s attention focused on the waiter pouring the fizzy liquid into her champagne flute moments later.

  Kathryn heard Gareth groan as he caught the comment, and noting her husband’s body language, quickly changed the subject.

  “So how’s Mercedes coming along with her studies?” Kathryn asked Bill, who she was very fond of and always enjoyed seeing on a night out. If only he didn’t have to bring his wife.

  Bill’s face broke into a wide smile. “Oh really good, isn’t she, Porsche? Her teachers are very impressed with her. She thought maybe she could come and work for you during the summer to earn a bit of pin money,” he said, looking hopefully at Kathryn.

  “Sure, I’d like that.”

  Bill responded by smiling warmly at her.

  “I don’t like the sound of that one bit,” Porsche said.

  “Oh, and why not?” Kathryn asked, raising her eyebrows. It was just another thing Porsche could have a disagreement about — Kathryn never understood people who constantly wanted to bring misery wherever they went.

  “I don’t want my daughter wasting her time with that flowery nonsense; she’s going to be a doctor.”

  “What flowery nonsense?” Kathryn asked, pressing her hand against her chest. If she didn’t get away from this woman soon, she wouldn’t be held responsible for her actions.

  “You know — what you do. Glorified painter and decorator, if you ask me. My Mercedes is destined for better things than that.” “Porsche!” Bill said, his cheeks reddening.

  Her nostrils flared, an animalistic growl rising from her throat. “I only say it how it is.”

  Kathryn’s mouth fell open. She was unable to find the words to respond. A glorified ...

  “I’m sorry for her rudeness,” Bill said, obviously embarrassed, as Kathryn’s face contorted with anger. “Porsche, come on now, you’ve had too much to drink.”

  “Don’t apologise for me.”

  “I think we’ve heard enough of this now. I’m going to get the bill,” Gareth said.

  “Good idea,” Kathryn agreed, nodding. And it’s about time you found a voice to shut her up. She glanced at Gareth with a little resentment. Sometimes he was just too passive for his own good.

  As Bill got up to put on his coat, he leant over to Kathryn and whispered, “I’m so sorry, Kath. She’ll hate herself in the morning when she remembers how she’s behaved tonight.”

  I very much doubt it. Kathryn smiled at him, grateful the night was over.

  ***

  “That woman bloody infuriates me, the things she comes out with,” Kathryn called out from the bathroom to Gareth, who sat on the bed, taking his shoes off.

  “Which part?”

  “Are you kidding me?” She poked her head out the door, holding her toothbrush in her hand. “How about all of it. Sometimes I can’t believe Bill would have married someone like her.”

  “It was his choice.”

  “You should have said something to her.” She was still angry that he had let Porsche speak to her the way she did — it was getting beyond a joke now. His unwillingness to defend her was definitely not one of Gareth’s best features.

  “What did you want me to say?” He tugged his tie loose, before unbuttoning his shirt, revealing grey wispy hairs on his chest.

  “For starters, she insulted me and you just sat there and said nothing.”

  “Yes, I did, I told her the evening was over.”

  “But you didn’t defend what I do. Is that because you find it meaningless too?” she said, walking into the bedroom and standing before him, her hand resting on her hip.

  “No, of course not. You are blowing this out of proportion,” he replied, splaying his hands out on the bed and leaning back on to them.

  “You always say that. Why can’t you just admit when you’re in the wrong?” She tilted her head to one side, carefully scrutinising his features. Trying to get him to talk about anything to do with his emotions was like trying to get blood out of a stone. She didn’t know if it was because of the fifteen year age gap between them but at times like this they just seemed miles apart from each other.

  When she thought about how easy it was to be with Rachel, it only served to remind her of all the things she was missing out on in life and it saddened her deeply. If she felt this way, how on earth did Gareth feel? There would be no point asking him, he’d just repeat the same old mantra I’m happy if you’re happy. But that was the problem, she wasn’t.

  “Look, I think we’ve had enough discord for one evening, let’s just get some sleep,” he said wearily as he brought his hands up to his head.

  “Are you feeling okay?” Kathryn asked, going to his side, suddenly feeling guilty for having a go at him. It wasn’t his fault he didn’t like confrontation, it was just the way he was, he couldn’t help it — just as she couldn’t help the way she felt.

  He shook his head. “No, my head is still a bit sore.”

  “Get into bed, I’ll go and get you some aspirin,” she said as she drew back the quilt and puffed up the pillows. “Can I get you anything else?”

  “No thanks, just a painkiller will do.”

  She stopped with the door ajar a few inches and turned to him as he finished undressing. “Are you sure you are alright?”

  “I’m positive,” he said with a faint smile before she left the room.

  CHAPTER 9

  Gareth patted the space next to him several times before he realised Kathryn wasn’t there. He lay still before turning onto his back and glancing at the digital clock on the bedside table. Just after eight. He sank his head back into the softness of the pillow and tentatively felt the swelling on his forehead. It still throbbed — the pain killers he had taken the night before had little or no effect on the pain. He felt like a bumbling idiot when he recalled how his mind had been so distracted thinking about Kathryn that he had missed the enormous sign stating ‘falling
objects’.

  He had been lucky that only one of the many bricks that had been hurtling towards him made contact with his head — if he hadn’t reacted so quickly and darted underneath the protection of the scaffolding, his injuries would have been a lot worse.

  Swinging his legs off the bed, he walked gingerly to the en-suite bathroom. Running the shower cold, he stood underneath the spray, letting it soothe his aching lump, his thoughts once again lost in Kathryn. It had been three days since he had received the brief reply from Pandora, stating that his wife had not fallen for her advances. So there was only one other possibility to consider now — Kathryn just wasn’t attracted to him either.

  The realisation depressed him more than he could have imagined. He had really believed that his relationship with Kathryn was a strong one, that it could weather any storm but he was finding out fast that just wasn’t the case. Is she going to leave me? The fear of being alone enveloped him. Though he knew he still looked good for his age, the thought of being on the dating scene scared him beyond belief. But that wasn’t the main reason — he just so happened to love his wife and didn’t want to live his life without her.

  Gareth stepped out of the shower and dried himself down before dressing quickly in a dark blue suit, yellow tie and black leather shoes before making his way downstairs.

  Hearing the sound of clattering plates as he neared the kitchen door, he pushed it open, holding it slightly ajar, taking the time to watch his wife, who was dressed simply in a white embroidered blouse and faded blue jeans, as she prepared the table for breakfast.

  Not for the first time, he wondered what was going on in her mind. What could he do to make her happy? Obviously setting her up with a woman wasn’t the answer. Did she want to have a baby? Was that it? When they had broached the subject in the past, he hadn’t been that enthusiastic about it, but if it meant seeing her smile again he would do it. He would do anything to save his marriage.

  Kathryn jumped when she turned and saw him through the gap of the door. “Peeping Tom,” she teased.

  “No,” he said, pushing the door open, “just a humble man looking at his beautiful wife.”