The Second Wife Page 3

  ‘Richard,’ she said, relaxing her face into a smile.

  He smiled back, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied her, his gaze so intent it was almost unsettling.

  ‘It’s so nice to finally…’ They both started together and stopped awkwardly.

  ‘Meet you,’ Richard finished, dipping his head in a small gesture of contrition. ‘Under far too tragic circumstances, unfortunately,’ he added, taking hold of the hand Rebecca eventually remembered to offer him. ‘I wish it could have been any other way. I know Nicole would have loved to have you visit.’

  Her eyes instantly filling up, Rebecca dropped her gaze. Nicole had asked her to visit once, not long after she’d married. Rebecca had made plans to visit Sam who was renting a room near his university in Warwickshire and had promised her a guided tour of the area. Feeling worried about the strange email Nicole had sent her from her honeymoon, she’d been desperate to talk to her face-to-face. And then Nicole had texted her, saying Olivia had been taken ill. She should have ignored it. Pretended she hadn’t seen it and come anyway. ‘I wish it could have been different too,’ she whispered. ‘I intended to visit sooner, but…’

  ‘Life has a habit of intervening when you’re busy making plans,’ Richard finished sympathetically.

  And death. Feeling a tear spill on to her cheek, Rebecca reached to wipe it away. ‘Sorry,’ she said, looking back at him. ‘I keep thinking I’ve got these in check, but…’ She shrugged hopelessly.

  ‘They creep up on you.’ Richard’s smile was understanding. ‘No apologies necessary. I’ve cried my fair share too. I think it’s allowed.’

  Rebecca nodded, but still she felt bereft, as if she’d deserted her friend when she’d desperately needed someone. ‘Where’s Bouncer?’ she asked. Nicole had adopted an abandoned mongrel from her local rescue centre once she’d set up house on her own. Her loyal little man, she’d declared him, who would love her unconditionally and who would be her only male companion henceforth.

  ‘In kennels,’ Richard supplied. ‘Just for today,’ he added quickly, clearly noting her alarm. ‘They both are – my dog and Nicole’s. I thought, with people coming and going, they would be less stressed there.’

  Rebecca felt a flood of overwhelming relief. Nicole would have been devastated to think that Bouncer was caged again and pining for her.

  ‘Come and have some food,’ Richard suggested, nodding towards where people were congregating in what appeared to be a formal dining area in the largely open-plan ground floor of the house. The furniture, all glass, chrome and white, was as pristine as everything else. ‘It’s been a long morning and I imagine you haven’t had much time to eat.’

  ‘Thank you, but I’m not very hungry, to be honest.’ Rebecca smiled graciously.

  ‘A small wine, perhaps? I have an excellent Château Bourgneuf breathing.’

  ‘I’m not sure I’m familiar with that one.’ The Travelodge she intended to stay in wasn’t far, but she didn’t want anything too strong, since she was driving.

  ‘It’s a Merlot-based wine,’ Richard supplied. ‘Nicole’s tipple of choice.’

  ‘That would be lovely,’ Rebecca said, holding eye contact with him, though she wished he wouldn’t look at her quite so intently. ‘Just the one though.’

  ‘Excellent.’ Richard’s smile widened. ‘You know, you can always stay over if you’d like,’ he offered, taking her gently by the arm and leading the way. ‘We have plenty of spare rooms.’

  Should she? She hadn’t actually booked the Travelodge yet, but she didn’t want to impose on his grief.

  ‘I doubt Nicole would want you spending the night in a soulless hotel,’ Richard said, seeing her hesitation. ‘Your staying here is no inconvenience, I promise. I know Nicole would have wanted you to.’

  Rebecca nodded. He was right. Nicole would have hated the idea of her going off to a hotel. At least here she would be closer to her friend, while her thoughts were only of her, as inevitably they would be. Plus, it would give her chance to get to know the man Nicole had loved a little better, which Rebecca felt she needed to. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘It’s very kind of you.’

  ‘No problem,’ Richard assured her.

  It’s a wonderful property,’ Rebecca commented, gazing around as they walked. ‘Almost like a show home.’

  ‘We liked it,’ Richard said, with a nostalgic sigh. ‘Nicole was happy here, I think.’

  Rebecca nodded, conceding that most people would be, providing they had an army of staff. ‘I can see why. It’s very spacious. I love the open-plan design.’

  ‘Me too.’ Richard followed her gaze around. ‘I prefer not to be boxed in. I find it too…’

  ‘Claustrophobic?’ Rebecca finished, as he searched for the right word.

  ‘Something like that.’ Richard smiled. ‘I suppose it comes from my work being largely outdoors. Nicole indulged me, I think.’

  As she would. Being caring by nature, Nicole would be inclined to do that, Rebecca knew. ‘It must be hard work to keep it so… sparkling though,’ she ventured.

  Richard chuckled at that. ‘It does rather sparkle, doesn’t it? Mostly down to Nicole’s hard work, I have to admit. Not being quite as house-proud as she was, I suspect I’m going to have to get a cleaner in now.’

  ‘Nicole would have abhorred the idea,’ Olivia put in, drifting across to them from the table. ‘She preferred to do the housework herself, for some unfathomable reason.’

  Someone approached to offer their condolences and Richard looked away. Rebecca glanced between father and daughter, now stunned. Were they talking about Nicole? Her Nicole, who had despised housework? Or ‘women’s work’, as her father had labelled it. She’d hated that her mother had run around after him, that her controlling first husband had expected Nicole to do the same. Hated herself for becoming so cowed that she’d done it.

  Life was too short, she’d said, when she’d finally broken free of him. People could take her home as they found it. Yet, this house was almost surgically clean. Had that been a symptom of her illness, Rebecca wondered. One which Richard might not have realised was?

  FOUR

  NICOLE

  PREVIOUS YEAR – APRIL

  Slipping out of bed quietly in order not to wake Richard, Nicole paused for another admiring glance at his torso. Draped in her patchwork patola silk bed throw, one arm thrown across his forehead, he looked every inch a heavenly body. A shudder of pleasure ran through her as she recalled what he’d done to her body. Nicole sighed blissfully and tiptoed towards the door. Her efforts to be quiet were somewhat thwarted when she tripped over one of the many scatter cushions that they’d tossed to the floor, but still he didn’t stir. The poor soul was obviously exhausted.

  ‘Shhh.’ Pressing a finger to her lips, she beckoned Bouncer – so called because he hadn’t stopped bouncing since she’d brought him home from the rescue centre – to follow her. Even he appeared to be in love, racing manically around and then snuggling up with Richard’s golden retriever the first time the two dogs had met. The fact that Wanderer was also male hadn’t deterred him. Nicole had thought they might fight, but no. It was true love.

  Smiling contentedly, she crept downstairs to let Bouncer out into the garden and then came back up, stopping by the second bedroom-cum-office to check her emails. She wasn’t surprised to see one from Becky. Nicole hesitated before opening it, crossing her fingers and hoping her best friend didn’t think she’d completely taken leave of her senses.

  Dearest Nicole,

  Are you mad? No, don’t answer that. Just tell me one thing… Did you let him pay for lunch?

  Love and hugs,

  Your slightly shocked best friend, who is now in need of another lie-down.

  xxx

  PS Write soon – so I know he’s not a mass murderer!

  Oops, poor Becky. She clearly thought she’d parted company with her sanity. Sensing she needed some reassurance, Nicole sat down to send a quick reply before making brea
kfast. She had no intention of serving Richard breakfast on a regular basis, but she’d decided he had earned it.

  Dear prostrate best friend,

  He’s not a mass murderer! And, what’s more, he doesn’t snore! In answer to ‘the did I allow him to pay for lunch’ dilemma, he offered, but understood when I declined. He said, and I quote, ‘because you see it as controlling?’ I think he scores on that point. In answer to your first question, I think I might be. I’ve just agreed to marry him. Suggest deep breaths before replying. Off to make breakfast.

  Love you loads.

  Nicole. X

  PS Understand completely and forgive you for questioning my sanity.

  Pausing in the bathroom after brushing her teeth, she pinched her cheeks to give them a bit of colour. God help her, she was behaving like a love-struck teenager. Nicole padded downstairs, humming ‘Ave Maria’ softly to herself, which she and Richard had agreed they absolutely had to have at their wedding. She quite fancied ‘Can't Take My Eyes Off You’ by Frankie Valli and The Four Seasons for their first dance. She hadn’t run that by Richard yet, but it would definitely be appropriate.

  Stopping mid hum as she walked into the kitchen, she found she actually couldn’t take her eyes off him. He was scrambling eggs. Bare-footed and bare-chested – since she was still wearing his shirt – he was making breakfast. Nicole blinked bemusedly. She hoped he didn’t regret his hasty proposal, once he’d had time to think about it. She would have no alternative but to man-nap him and chain him up in her art studio.

  ‘Hi.’ Looking up, he smiled when he saw her. ‘I’m assuming you like eggs? You had them in the fridge.’

  ‘Absolutely,’ Nicole assured him, smiling delightedly back. ‘Especially when prepared by my own personal Adonis.’

  Richard laughed out loud. ‘I think you may need spectacles,’ he said modestly, reaching to flick the coffee machine on. ‘And you might not be quite so delighted when you taste them.’

  ‘Oh, I will. Trust me.’ Nicole petted Bouncer, who was right by Richard’s side in hopes of food – suddenly man’s best friend rather than hers – and then hitched herself on to a stool at the kitchen island. She propped her head on her hands and watched him – well, stared at him, astonished. Was it possible she had gone gaga? That she was imagining this appetising man making himself at home in her kitchen, cooking actual food after making spectacular love to her for half the night and then asking her to marry him?

  ‘Suits you,’ he said, nodding towards her as he dropped bread into the toaster.

  ‘What?’ Nicole asked, hardly able to believe that she didn’t feel guilted into jumping up and taking over. He was plainly all the therapy she’d needed: a normal man who didn’t have to make her feel inadequate in order to feel better about himself.

  ‘The shirt.’ He gave her a wink. ‘It looks like you’ve laid claim to it, in which case I’m going to be driving home half naked.’

  ‘Now that would definitely stop traffic.’ Nicole’s gaze travelled lustfully over him. ‘I am rather attached to it.’ She sighed and resisted pressing the collar to her nose to breath in the scent of him – a subtle blend of cedarwood and orchid and essence of man. ‘I’ll let you have it back though, if you insist.’

  At that, Richard downed his kitchen implements, folded an arm across his chest, pressed a thumb to his chin and waited.

  Flushing furiously, Nicole laughed. ‘Not now, fool.’ Her eyes boggled at the mere thought of it – her parading around the kitchen in nothing but her knickers. If the postman caught a glimpse of her through the window, he’d have a heart attack and die on the doorstep.

  ‘Damn.’ Richard sighed disappointedly. ‘I quite fancied working up an appetite over the kitchen island.’

  ‘Richard!’ Nicole gawked at him. ‘You’re terrible.’

  ‘I know. But irresistible with it.’ Richard winked and went back to his task.

  Most definitely that. Nicole was tempted. Very. But, no. She wasn’t ready to reveal all of herself in broad daylight.

  ‘So, where do you fancy for the honeymoon?’ he asked her, turning to wham the eggs into the microwave, Bouncer following his every movement.

  Honeymoon? Nicole wasn’t sure she was ready for that either. Was she really doing this? ‘I’m not sure. I… hadn’t really…’ Assertive, she reminded herself. She had to make decisions now. It was the only way forward. She’d promised herself that she would never hand power over to a man again. ‘Somewhere exotic?’ she ventured.

  ‘Barbados?’ he suggested, glancing back as he set the timer for the eggs – looking very proficient, Nicole noticed. He’d done this before. ‘Or Thailand maybe? If you’re after beach and culture, South East Asia offers the perfect combination of sun, sea and cities.’

  Nicole looked at him in wonder. ‘It sounds perfect,’ she said, trying not to let her jaw drop too heavily on to the counter.

  ‘Excellent.’ He smiled at her approvingly. ‘Have you given any thought to where we might live yet?’ he asked her, whisking up the coffee jug.

  What? Nicole felt as if she’d been caught up in a whirlwind, but not in a bad way – a heady, giddy, exhilarating whirl of happiness. She hadn’t felt like this since she’d been accepted for her fine art course and found the freedom to paint.

  ‘No, not really. I, um…’ she stammered. Lying next to him, naked in her bed, did he really imagine she had been able to think of anything but him? ‘Have you?’

  ‘Some,’ he said. ‘I’m selling my property, as you know, so I suppose we ought to be thinking about it.’

  ‘Because it has too many memories.’ Nicole immediately felt for him.

  Nodding, Richard smiled sadly. ‘I think a fresh start is best anyway, don’t you? The last thing I imagine a woman would want is to live with the ghost of her husband’s former wife.’

  Nicole goggled at that, not quite able to believe a man could be so intuitive.

  ‘Ideally, I’d like us to buy somewhere new, somewhere that’s ours,’ he went on. ‘Given all you’ve been through, though, I’d understand if you wanted to keep your house.’

  Nicole stared at him, dumbfounded. She never remembered to do the lottery, but she felt as if she’d won it anyway. She hadn’t even considered where they would live, but… Finding somewhere that was theirs, chosen together – as in, she got to share in the choosing – had to be the right thing to do. She couldn’t allow him to take on more than his fair share of the financial burden though. If they were going to do this, then all things being equal in a marriage – which was the way it should be – shouldn’t she be contributing too?

  FIVE

  REBECCA

  PRESENT

  Having decided to take up Richard’s offer to stay, and Olivia’s subsequent offer to drive her to the village to view the exhibition, where she could see Nicole’s latest work for herself – and judge whether she’d painted them with the passion she’d once had – Rebecca had accepted a small wine and was currently watching Richard Gray circulating the room. He still looked devastated, an intense sadness in his eyes, though he smiled stoically, as occasion demanded, and chatted easily to the people gathered to mark his wife’s passing.

  The two women he was talking to now were a little over-affectionate, Rebecca noted, one hugging him for possibly longer than was necessary, the other reluctant to let go of the hand she was squeezing.

  Dipping his head charmingly, Richard excused himself after a suitable pause and turned to pick up two empty wine bottles from the table.

  Rebecca couldn’t help but feel amused as she watched him walk towards the kitchen, catching Olivia’s eye as he went. She glanced in the women’s direction and then rolled her eyes heavenwards. A bottle in each hand, Richard shrugged – not smugly, as a man who was aware of his attractions might, but contritely. He certainly had some endearing qualities. Rebecca could see what Nicole had seen in him.

  Realising people were beginning to depart, she tore her gaze away from him, lest she make
him feel self-conscious, and walked across to help Olivia, who was starting to clear things from the table.

  ‘Thanks, Becky.’ Olivia smiled appreciatively as she collected up glasses and plates. ‘We had caterers in for the food, but Dad said he’d see to the clearing up.’

  Rebecca glanced at her, surprised.

  Olivia noted the look. ‘He’s actually always been quite handy around the house,’ she said, with a conspiratorial smile. ‘Quite a good cook, too, but don’t tell him I said so. He’ll only get big-headed.’

  Another endearing quality, Rebecca mused, following her through to the kitchen. It only added to the mystery. From what she could tell, Richard Gray appeared to have genuinely cared for Nicole. He also appeared to be gracious and charming. From Nicole’s initial sparkling description of him, Rebecca had expected him to be, to a degree. But the fact that he seemed genuinely so… she hadn’t expected that.

  Noticing Richard following them through, Rebecca deposited her crockery on the work surface and lingered as Olivia returned to the dining area.

  Richard smiled as he saw her. ‘Thanks,’ he said, running a hand tiredly over his neck.

  ‘No problem,’ Rebecca assured him. ‘Standing idle is not something mothers find easy to do.’

  ‘You have children?’ Richard looked at her, surprised.

  ‘Yes,’ Rebecca eyed him curiously. Had Nicole not mentioned that?

  Remembering how heartbroken Nicole had been when she’d lost her baby at almost full term, Rebecca felt a stab of sadness. She’d been desperate for a child after that, not to replace the little girl she’d lost, but because she’d been so desperate to love and be loved in return. Rebecca had been quietly relieved when Nicole failed to conceive again, able to see what her friend couldn’t: that her then husband was slowly making her world smaller.