As she stood there, a little girl appeared behind her: an absurdly beautiful little girl, about nine years old, with long blond curly hair, wearing a white lace-trimmed dress and silver shoes. “Hello,” she said, “I’m Lily. Have you come to the party? You’re late.”

“I know,” Abi said, smiling at her. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s all right. They’re just serving the food now. Do come in,” she added graciously.

Abi took a glass of champagne from a tray and stood in the doorway, looking into a huge room, golden, it seemed, lit with dozens of candles, and filled with great urns of white flowers. People stood in groups, smiling, beautifully dressed people, holding glasses of champagne, and by the fireplace stood Jonathan, and next to him, leaning against him, smiling up at him, was… well, she supposed Laura. Lovely, she was, quite small, with a fall of blond hair and dressed in something truly amazing, layers of pale, pale cream chiffon and lace. On the other side of Jonathan were two almost identical little girls and a boy-Charlie, of course, very handsome, with smooth brown hair, dressed in jeans and a blue shirt, already nearly as tall as his mother. It was all unbearably perfect-the light, the music, the display of family togetherness-and Abi really couldn’t bear it.

She started to move across the room. Jonathan still hadn’t seen her, was holding up his hand; Laura was tapping on her glass; Jonathan was saying, “This is not a speech, promise, promise,” and everyone laughed and called out, “Good thing too,” and, “Why not?” and, “Better not be…”

He saw her standing there, an entirely dark presence in her black clothes, her eyes glittering, infinitely dangerous; and he was so terrified, he literally could neither move nor speak. He saw Laura look at him more sharply, puzzled at his sudden silence, and then follow his gaze towards Abi; felt her stiffen, heard her intake of breath. In his worst, his wildest nightmares, he could not have imagined this invasion of his family and his home, and in front of all their friends, this confrontation with the awful, ugly truth of her and what he had done. What might she do, or say, how could he stop her…?

She stepped forward, right up to him, and said, “Hello, Jonathan. What a very lovely occasion. I thought I’d add my good wishes to everyone else’s. That’s what you deserve. Happy birthday,” she added, and leaned up and kissed him on the lips. “You must be Laura,” she said, turning to her, and she could hear a distinct graciousness in her own voice. “I’m Abi… I’m not sure if Jonathan’s told you about me. I’m so sorry I can’t stop.”

And she turned and walked out again, and he stood staring after her, noticing, absurdly, that she was wearing the same high silver-heeled boots that she had had on the day of the crash.

CHAPTER 34

Illogical things, emotions. She would have expected to feel rage, pain, humiliation; all she felt in those first few minutes was embarrassment. That all their friends should have been there, should have come with such generosity and genuine goodwill to Jonathan’s party, and they had been forced to witness this extraordinary thing. It seemed so wrong somehow. Rude. Churlish.

In half an hour they were all gone, embarrassed, not mentioning the intruder-for so Abi had seemed-not properly meeting her eyes, just saying they would go and leave them in peace, very sweetly and charmingly to be sure, kissing her, shaking Jonathan rather awkwardly by the hand, and then the room was empty, horribly empty, the candles and flowers and abandoned champagne glasses the only signs that there had been a party there at all.

She directed the waiters to clear the room, and then dismissed them, told Helga to start putting away the food, load up the dishwasher.

The children were upset, the girls baffled, Lily in tears of disappointment, Charlie clearly troubled and with at least half an idea of what Abi’s visit had all been about… and she took them up to the playroom, told them not to worry, everything was fine, and that she’d be up in a minute to help them get to bed. And then went back downstairs.

She realised now-of course-that she had never believed any of Jonathan’s explanations about Abi. She felt ashamed of allowing herself to pretend. She had let herself down. Been weak, cowardly, feebly female. She should have faced him down on that very first explanation, told him not to insult her, instead of playing the sweet, simple, loyal little wife. Well, not anymore she wasn’t. Rage-and outrage-were growing in her, making her strong.

Jonathan was sitting in a chair now, his eyes fixed on her, watching like a terrified child as she moved around-blowing out candles, collecting the remaining glasses. When finally she was done, and faced him across the room, he said, “Darling, I’m so sorry, so, so sorry she did that.”

“She!” Laura said. “Jonathan, she didn’t do that. You did.”

“But, Laura-”

“Jonathan, just stop it, please. I don’t want to hear anything from you. You can do what you like; I really don’t care.”

“How… how are the children?” he said.

“The girls simply didn’t understand at all, just thought she was another guest, but they’re disappointed that the party never really happened. Charlie’s clearly got a better idea. He asked who… who she was. Of course. Well, they all did.”

“Oh, Christ,” he said, “dear sweet Christ. What… what did you tell them?”

“I said she was a lady from work whom I’d never met-getting rather close to your story, isn’t it, Jonathan-and that she had another party to go to, and that was why she couldn’t stay. The girls seemed to accept that; Charlie, I’m not so sure. He’s old enough to see that she wasn’t too much like all our other friends.”

He was silent. Then: “I’m sorry, Laura,” he said again.

“For what? Doing it, having the relationship at all? Lying to me? Getting caught? Bad luck, wasn’t it, being involved in the crash that day? I wonder if it would still be going on if you hadn’t. Well, she’s very… sexy. I can see that. Which I do realise I’m not. And probably rather good fun. Wives tend to be dull.”

“Please-”

“And young, of course. I suppose she wasn’t the first. Not that it makes much difference.”

“She was the first. I swear. And the last.”

“Yes, well, she’s definitely that.”

“Of course.” There was a slight-very slight-look of hope in his eyes.

Laura crushed it swiftly.

“Yes. Because that’s it, Jonathan. Absolutely it. Our marriage is over. As of now.”

“Darling, you can’t-”

“Don’t ‘darling’ me. And I can. I’ve always said there were two things I wouldn’t be able to bear. One was anything bad-really bad-happening to one of the children. The other was you being unfaithful to me.”

“But, Laura-”

“I just can’t cope with it, Jonathan. It’s not the humiliation, although that’s quite… hard. It’s not the pain… not exactly. It’s the death of trust. I’d never be able to believe you again, and I could never, ever again let you near me. I’d always be wondering if you’d been… been making love to someone else. I mean… how…” Her voice broke; she hesitated, then went on: “How long has it been going on? Months? Years?”

“A couple of months. That’s all. And I was about to finish it; I swear to you. That’s the awful irony of the whole thing. I’d told her in the car that day that it had to end, that I didn’t want to go on with it anymore. I’d been regretting it so much, Laura, hating myself for it…”

“Oh, really? And what’s that supposed to make me feel? Grateful? Reassured? I keep thinking back, you know,” she said, “to all the times you must have been with her. Going to hotels… I presume. Or does she have a little pad somewhere? No, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know. Ringing me last thing, like you always do, making sure I’m safely settled. Telling me you… you… Oh, God, you are disgusting, Jonathan. I wish I need never see you again. And all that stuff, lying to the police, in front of me…”