The Second Wife Read online

  SIXTEEN

  REBECCA

  PRESENT

  ‘Becky!’ Olivia called delightedly, hoisting herself lithely out of the pool and smoothing her hair back, making Rebecca feel immediately frumpy in her black M&S Secret Slimming swimsuit. Wearing a miniscule bikini that consisted of three strategically placed silver triangles, the girl definitely looked hot.

  ‘I’m so pleased you could make it,’ Olivia gushed, and flew across to greet her.

  So it would seem. Rebecca tried not to mind as the girl pulled her fiercely into a wet hug.

  ‘Oh, sorry.’ Realising she was dripping all over her, Olivia pulled away, grabbed a towel from the lounger and proceeded to dab at Rebecca’s breast area, which was slightly embarrassing with Richard looking across from where he was mixing more drinks at the minibar. ‘I’m a bit overexcited,’ Olivia confided. ‘It’s just so fabulous to have some female company. I mean, Dad tries, but it’s been a bit…’

  She trailed off as Richard came across with two perfectly presented glasses of Pimm’s, complete with lemon slices and mint sprigs. ‘Miserable?’ he suggested.

  ‘Boring,’ Olivia said tactlessly, now using the towel to pat herself dry.

  Richard’s mouth twitched into an embarrassed smile. ‘I’m obviously not very good company,’ he said, his eyes drifting briefly down as he handed Rebecca her drink.

  ‘Not surprisingly. It’s early days yet.’ Olivia redeemed herself, smiling sympathetically as she wrapped an arm around him and gave his shoulders a squeeze. ‘The thing is though, Dad, you’re a man,’ she teased, planting a kiss on his cheek. ‘Completely incapable of discussing anything remotely interesting.’

  Richard looked at her in amusement. ‘Such as?’

  ‘Fashion, make-up… men.’ Olivia gave Rebecca a conspiratorial wink.

  At this, Richard rolled his eyes skywards. ‘Clearly I need to work on my conversational repertoire,’ he said, shaking his head as he walked back to the bar.

  Watching him, Rebecca felt a pang of sadness. His efforts at light-heartedness were an obvious act. The rest, though – the underlying grief that emanated from him, the captivatingly charming persona – was all that an act? Rebecca knew that she’d wanted it to be, that she’d needed to blame someone for Nicole’s death, but she still hadn’t been able to convince herself that it was all fake.

  ‘Is your son not coming, after all?’ Olivia asked. She was now sitting on the lounger, sweeping her hair up and tying it artfully into a knot.

  Rebecca sat on the lounger next to her, rather than stand around looking spare. ‘He’s on his way. He and Laura decided to—’ She stopped as something that sounded remarkably tank-like reached her ears. ‘Oh dear. I think he might have arrived.’

  Obviously also hearing the commotion, followed by the distinct sound of an engine backfiring, Richard winced as he came towards her. ‘How ancient did you say that car was?’ he asked her.

  ‘Very.’ Rebecca jumped up, joining him to walk around the house towards the drive. ‘It’s a Volkswagen Beetle. Much loved. Unfortunately, still possessing most of its original parts, not that reliable.’

  ‘Ah.’ Richard nodded understandingly.

  ‘Sam’s an old car enthusiast?’ Olivia asked, hurrying to join them.

  ‘No, his girlfriend Laura is,’ Rebecca said. ‘She fell in love with the car when she saw it on a garage forecourt apparently. It’s yellow. Her pride and joy.’

  ‘Oh, I see.’ Olivia nodded, her brow furrowed. ‘I didn’t realise his girlfriend was coming too.’ She looked momentarily perturbed. ‘Ah well, the more the merrier, I suppose. We can have a party on the patio.’

  Brightening, she skipped on ahead of them, reaching the drive first. ‘Sam!’ she cried, plainly as delighted to see him as she had been with Rebecca. ‘It’s so lovely to meet you.’

  Seemingly unaware of Laura standing at the driver’s side of her beloved car, Olivia proceeded to squeeze Sam into a firm hug. ‘It’ll be so cool to finally have some company my own age around the place,’ she enthused, giving him another squeeze before easing away. Sam looked rather embarrassed as he took in her skimpy bikini, Rebecca noted.

  ‘And you must be…?’ Olivia looked curiously towards Laura, oblivious to her unimpressed expression as she banged her car door shut and came around to join them.

  ‘Laura,’ she replied, also taking in the minimal clothing Olivia was wearing. By contrast, Laura – a petite, natural-looking girl, who tended not to wear make-up and didn’t tolerate sun well – was wearing a floral maxi dress with a shirt over it, and possibly felt overdressed in Olivia’s company. She was also clearly put out by Olivia’s exuberant greeting of Sam.

  ‘Sam, hi,’ Richard said, defusing the awkwardness, thankfully, as he walked across to them. ‘Nice to meet you.’ He smiled, extending his hand.

  ‘You too,’ said Sam, shaking hands. ‘Thanks for the invite. It’s a fabulous property. I couldn’t help noticing the tennis courts as we drove in.’

  Richard looked him over with interest. ‘Do you play?’

  ‘As often as I can,’ Sam said enthusiastically. Athletic by nature, Rebecca guessed he was keen to get a game in while he was here.

  ‘Excellent.’ Richard looked pleased. ‘We’ll have to organise—’

  ‘Oh fab,’ Olivia interrupted, locking her arm through Sam’s. ‘We can play doubles. It’s been ages since we had anybody decent to play with.’

  ‘Er, great,’ Sam said uncertainly. ‘As long as Mum fancies a game? Laura doesn’t play.’ Shrugging at Rebecca, he turned to give Laura an apologetic smile.

  Olivia also glanced in Laura’s direction – a tad superiorly, Rebecca thought. ‘Oh, that’s a shame.’ She sighed exaggeratedly. ‘Never mind; she can be umpire. Now, come on,’ she said, steering a bemused Sam towards the back of the house. ‘You absolutely have to try a Pimm’s. Dad’s already mixed some. It’s to die for.

  ‘You too, Laura,’ she called, throwing her a smile over her shoulder. ‘You must both be about to combust, travelling here in that old thing.’

  SEVENTEEN

  NICOLE

  PREVIOUS YEAR – AUGUST

  Nicole waited nervously as her phone rang out. She hoped he would pick up – and that Olivia wouldn’t come floating downstairs at the crucial moment. It was strange that, since the girl couldn’t seem to tolerate her, she would appear wherever Nicole was in the house, always wearing the same expression – something near contempt. Except when Richard was around, of course, then she was sweetness and light, bordering on childlike. Nicole did wonder whether she had some sort of Oedipus complex. She worked with her father. Nicole actually had no idea what she did as his supposed personal assistant, other than go out with him to viewings. She didn’t seem to do much else, and she was home more often than not. She lived with him. She wasn’t too old to be living with her father by today’s standards, but she seemed unnaturally close to him. It was because she’d lost her mother, Nicole had first thought, but now didn’t know what to think. She wished she dare ask Richard about Olivia’s relationship with her mother, and whether it had been a difficult one, but she guessed that would be misconstrued, the way things currently were. Richard would be naturally protective of his daughter – more so after the awfulness on their wedding day. She dreaded to think how he might react if she were to suggest Olivia might benefit from counselling, which, of course, would seem to confirm the girl’s accusations that she was trying to ‘turn him against her’.

  Thinking he wasn’t going to answer, she was about to cut the call when Peter picked up. Thank God. Nicole had wondered whether he would ever speak to her again. As it was, his tone was cool, which wasn’t surprising. ‘Nicole,’ he said formally. He’d always called her Nicky. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Fine,’ Nicole lied, and faltered. ‘Actually, I’m not that fine, to be honest, but that’s not why I’ve called. How’s Zach, Peter? I’ve been really worried about him.’

  She heard Peter’s
sharp intake of breath. ‘So concerned you haven’t called until now?’ he replied pointedly.

  Nicole felt immensely guilty. ‘I meant to,’ she said. She had, but she hadn’t known how. ‘I wanted to. I… it was awkward, Peter. You must see that.’

  ‘Obviously.’ Peter’s tone was caustic. ‘He’s coping. Trying to get on with his life. Thankfully the lying bitch didn’t press charges.’

  ‘Peter!’ Nicole was shocked. She’d never known Peter to be anything but a soft-spoken, gentle man. ‘You can’t accuse her of lying. Something happened, clearly. I just—’

  ‘Nothing happened!’ Peter’s voice went up an octave. ‘Nothing that wasn’t staged – for God knows whose benefit. Zachary is gay, Nicole. Do you understand? And before you go down the “confused about his sexuality” route, he’s not. We talked about it some years ago. He’s not inclined to walk about wearing a badge declaring he’s homosexual, but he is. It’s a fact. I have no idea why someone would do what she did to him, but that girl needs help. Serious help.’

  Gay? Stunned, Nicole tried to assimilate this new information.

  ‘I have to go.’ Peter’s voice was tight with anger.

  ‘Peter, wait!’ Nicole said urgently. ‘Why didn’t you say something? Why didn’t Zach say something? I don’t understand.’

  Peter went quiet for a second. ‘It wasn’t my place, Nicole. That’s something for Zach to share. But he didn’t really get a chance, what with your husband’s hand around his throat, did he? Here’s the thing, Nicole. Would people have believed him? Or would they have judged him anyway?’

  Nicole didn’t answer. She wasn’t sure she could get the words past the sharp lump in her throat.

  ‘I really have to go. Look after yourself, Nicky,’ Peter said, more subdued. ‘And, Nicky…’ He hesitated. Nicole sensed his awkwardness. ‘Just remember I’m here if you ever need me. Okay?’

  Her heart banging against her ribcage, Nicole promised she would and ended the call. She believed him. In her heart, she’d always believed Zach would never do what he’d been accused of. Feeling sick to her soul, Nicole sat on one of the kitchen stools and tried to get her disorientated thoughts in some sort of order. What should she do? Olivia really did need help. She was ill. Surely, she must be? Did Richard know? Was that why he was so tolerant of her? Why she worked with him? Had that been at Richard’s instigation, in order to keep her close, or Olivia’s?

  She had to speak to Richard. She couldn’t do nothing. If Olivia’s allegations had gone further, Zach would have endured so much humiliation and pain. Peter was right. Other people wouldn’t necessarily have believed he was gay, or that his sexuality meant he wasn’t capable of such an attack. Lawyers and police would have delved into his personal life in intimate detail. He could have been arrested, charged. But it wouldn’t have gone further, would it? Olivia had never intended it to. It was obvious, now. Her aim had been twofold: to draw Richard’s attention back to her; and to ruin the wedding day and, subsequently, the marriage.

  It seemed absurd. Said out loud, it would sound as if she were being totally irrational. Was she? Was it possible that she was getting everything out of proportion? A headache threatening, Nicole massaged her temples and debated what she should do. She jumped as she heard Richard’s car on the drive. She had to get to him first, speak to him quickly, before Olivia monopolised his attention. Ask him… No, tell him: they needed to go out together. Alone. Tonight. Nicole had tried to be patient with Olivia. She’d almost convinced herself that the animosity between them was her fault. But it wasn’t. She’d done nothing to warrant this sustained hostility, and she wouldn’t lie down and take it. Not again. This time, she had to fight back.

  Hearing Richard’s key in the lock, she headed for the front door, trying to quell the panic churning inside her. She needed to be calm, to give him no hint of what she wanted to talk about until they were alone. With Olivia hovering, as she perpetually was, she would stand no chance of talking to him in the house.

  The door opened just as she reached it. Nicole breathed in hard and arranged her face into a smile. ‘Evening,’ she said brightly, and then, needing to feel the solidity of his body close to hers, she stepped towards him, threading her arms around his waist.

  Richard seemed taken aback, tense for a second, and then he relaxed into her. ‘To what do I owe the pleasure?’ he asked, his mouth close to her ear.

  ‘No reason. I just wanted to remind you that I love you,’ Nicole said, looking up at him. ‘I thought… hoped… you might fancy going out tonight, just the two of us.’

  Glancing towards the stairs, Richard looked doubtful. ‘I have some work to do, Nicole. I’m sorry, I—’

  ‘I’ve booked a table,’ Nicole said quickly. ‘I probably should have rung you first, but I thought you wouldn’t mind if I took the initiative. I haven’t done that in a long time. Anything spontaneous in a relationship, I mean. I didn’t dare. I always got it wrong, but I thought…’ Trailing off – feeling guilty, but not quite lying – Nicole waited.

  Richard searched her eyes, indecision in his own, and then his mouth curved into an understanding smile. And Nicole’s heartbeat slowed to somewhere near normal. It would be fine. They would talk it through – work out a way to help Olivia. It wouldn’t be easy, but she would be there for him. For Olivia, too, because he would need her to be. Because, in time, Olivia might need her to be.

  ‘In that case, I would love to go out with you,’ Richard said softly.

  ‘Thank you.’ Tears pricking her eyes, Nicole buried her face in his shoulder and hugged him tight.

  And then instantly tore herself away, as Olivia rasped breathlessly from the landing behind her, ‘Daddy.’

  ‘Liv?’ Richard’s gaze shot towards her. ‘Jesus Christ!’ His face blanching, he moved past Nicole to bound up the stairs. ‘Where’s your inhaler?’ he demanded, grabbing hold of Olivia’s shoulders and frantically scanning her face.

  ‘Olivia!’ He almost shook his daughter as she clasped a hand to her chest, nothing escaping her mouth but an audible wheeze.

  Dumbstruck, Nicole watched as Richard smoothed Olivia’s hair back and attempted to calm her. ‘Nicole!’ he shouted. ‘Call an ambulance!’

  Jolted into action, Nicole flew for her phone as Richard swept Olivia, who was now gasping for breath, up into his arms.

  Blundering after him, Nicole attempted to relay the situation as best she could to the emergency services. ‘She’s not breathing properly,’ she said, feeling terrified now, as she followed Richard into Olivia’s room. ‘I don’t know. I…’

  ‘Asthma!’ Richard said tightly. Nicole looked towards where he sat on the bed, an arm around Olivia, supporting her, as she clearly struggled to draw breath. ‘Tell them it’s an emergency.’

  The emergency operator heard him. Nerves and nausea making her head swim, Nicole mumbled her thanks as they assured her an ambulance was on its way. Richard looked close to tears as he glanced desperately around the room. ‘There!’ he yelled suddenly, causing Nicole’s heart to leap into her mouth. ‘The inhaler.’ He nodded towards where it was lying on the floor next to Olivia’s dressing table.

  Flying across the room, Nicole snatched it up, prised off the top, and handed it to him.

  His hands were shaking. Oh dear God. Nicole swallowed hard.

  ‘It’s okay, baby,’ Richard murmured, his face deathly pale as he turned his attention back to Olivia. One arm still supporting her, he pressed the blue tube gently to her lips. ‘Here we go, sweetheart. Breathe it in for me, baby, will you?’

  Clearly panicking, Olivia appeared not to hear him.

  ‘Come on, Liv. We’ve been here before. You can do this.’ Richard kept his voice calm, though Nicole could hear the constriction in his throat. ‘One long breath in, yes? And then hold.’

  Her stomach knotting inside her, Nicole prayed silently as he pressed the canister down, and then thanked God when Olivia finally took a breath, sucking the lifegiving medication into
her lungs.

  ‘Good girl.’ His face flooding with relief, Richard moved the inhaler away, a bead of perspiration sliding slowly down his cheek as he waited for her to breathe out, and then quickly offered the inhaler again. ‘One more, Liv. For me, yes?’

  Richard waited for Olivia to take another inhalation and then, appearing to hold his own breath, he pressed the canister again.

  ‘Better?’ he asked her, studying her face intently as her wheezes abated and her breathing became deeper and slower.

  Nicole stepped apprehensively towards them. ‘Is she all right?’ Her voice came out a petrified whisper.

  ‘She will be.’ His eyes filled with fear, Richard glanced briefly at her and then turned his attention back to Olivia.

  ‘Sorry,’ Olivia croaked raggedly. ‘I couldn’t find my inhaler. It wasn’t on my bedside table. I started to panic. I—’

  ‘Shhh.’ Richard eased her closer to him. ‘It’s fine. You’re fine. You did good. Well done, sweetheart.’

  Swallowing hard, he held her close, and then eased back and lifted her chin to look at her. ‘Do you know what triggered it, Liv?’

  Olivia dropped her gaze and then looked hesitantly back at him, then towards Nicole. ‘The fumes,’ she said weakly. ‘The glue and the other chemicals. I told Nicole I was asthmatic, but…’

  ‘What?’ Nicole gasped, disbelieving. ‘You did not, Olivia.’ She looked in bewilderment between them.

  Richard simply stared at her.

  ‘She didn’t,’ Nicole insisted, fear rising inside her. ‘I wouldn’t have dreamed of priming my canvases indoors if…’ She stopped, realising that that’s exactly what she had done. ‘She said she didn’t like the smell, and that she was allergic to dogs’ hairs, but she didn’t say—’