Behind Closed Doors: A Novel
Behind Closed Doors: Chapter 6

That evening, the evening of my wedding day, when I stepped into the bedroom after my bath, I was dismayed to replace it empty. Presuming that Jack had gone off to make a phone call, I felt irritated that something could be more important to him on our wedding day than me. But my irritation quickly turned to anxiety when I remembered that Millie was in hospital and in the space of a couple of seconds I managed to convince myself that something terrible had happened to her, that Mum had phoned Jack to tell him, and that he had left the room because he didn’t want me to hear their conversation.

I ran to the bedroom door and flung it open, expecting to see Jack pacing up and down the corridor, trying to work out how to break some tragic news to me. But it was empty. Guessing he had gone down to the lobby and not wanting to waste time going to replace him, I searched through my luggage, which had been dropped off at the hotel by the chauffeur, dug out my phone and rang Mum’s mobile. As I waited to be connected, it occurred to me that if she was talking to Jack, I wouldn’t be able to get through to her anyway. I was about to hang up and call Dad’s mobile instead when I heard her phone ringing and, soon after, her voice.

‘Mum, what’s happened?’ I cried before she’d even finished saying hello. ‘Has there been a complication or something?’

‘No, everything’s fine.’ Mum sounded surprised.

‘So Millie’s all right?’

‘Yes, she’s sound asleep.’ She paused. ‘Are you all right? You sound agitated.’

I sat down on the bed, weak with relief. ‘Jack’s disappeared so I thought that maybe you’d phoned with bad news and that he’d gone to talk to you in private,’ I explained.

‘What do you mean, “disappeared”?’

‘Well, he’s not in the room. I went into the bathroom to have a bath and when I came out he was gone.’

‘He’s probably gone down to the reception for something. I’m sure he’ll be back in a minute. How did the wedding go?’

‘Fine, really well, considering that I couldn’t stop thinking about Millie. I hated that she wasn’t there. She’s going to be so disappointed when she realises that we went ahead and got married without her.’

‘I’m sure she’ll understand,’ Mum soothed, and I felt furious at how little she knew Millie, because of course she wouldn’t understand. I was appalled to replace I was near to tears, but after all that had happened, Jack’s disappearing act was the last straw. Telling Mum that I would see her at the hospital the next morning, I asked her to give Millie a kiss for me and hung up.

As I dialled Jack’s mobile, I told myself to calm down. We had never rowed before and shouting at him down the phone like a fishwife wouldn’t achieve anything. Something had obviously come up with one of his clients, a last-minute problem that he needed to sort out before we left for Thailand. He would be just as annoyed at being disturbed on his wedding day as I was.

I was relieved when I heard his phone ringing, relieved that he wasn’t on the phone to someone, hoping it meant that the problem—whatever it was—had been sorted. When he didn’t pick up I stifled a cry of frustration and left a message on his voicemail.

‘Jack, where on earth are you? Could you phone me back, please?’

I hung up and began to pace the room restlessly, wondering where he had gone. My eyes fell on the clock on the bedside table and I saw that it was nine o’clock. I tried to imagine why Jack hadn’t answered his phone, why he hadn’t been able to take my call and wondered if one of the other partners had come to the hotel to talk to him. When another ten minutes had gone by, I dialled his number again. This time it went straight through to his voicemail.

‘Jack, please phone me back,’ I said sharply, knowing he must have turned his mobile off after my last call. ‘I need to know where you are.’

I heaved my suitcase onto the bed, opened it and took out the beige trousers and shirt I planned to wear for travelling the following day. Pulling them on over my camisole and knickers, I dressed quickly, put the key card into my pocket and left the room, taking my telephone with me. Too agitated to wait for the lift, I took the stairs down to the lobby and headed for the reception desk.

‘Mrs Angel, isn’t it?’ The young man behind the desk smiled at me. ‘How can I help you?’

‘Actually, I’m looking for my husband. Have you seen him anywhere?’

‘Yes, he came down about an hour ago, not long after you checked in.’

‘Do you know where he went? Did he go to the bar, by any chance?’

He shook his head. ‘He went out through the front doors. I presumed he was going to fetch something from the car.’

‘Did you see him come back in?’

‘Now that you mention it, no, I didn’t. But I was busy checking in another client at one point, so it could be that I didn’t see him.’ He eyed the phone in my hand. ‘Have you tried phoning him?’

‘Yes, but his mobile’s switched off. He’s probably in the bar, drowning his sorrows that he’s now a married man.’ I smiled, trying to make light of it. ‘I’ll go and have a look.’

I made my way to the bar but there was no sign of Jack. I checked the various lounges, the fitness room and the swimming pool. On the way to check the two restaurants, I left another message on his voicemail, my voice breaking with anxiety.

‘No luck?’ The receptionist gave me a sympathetic look as I arrived back in the lobby on my own.

I shook my head. ‘I’m afraid I can’t replace him anywhere.’

‘Have you looked if your car is still in the car park? At least you’d know whether or not he’d left the hotel.’

I went out through the front doors and followed the path round to the car park at the back of the hotel. The car wasn’t where Jack had left it nor was it anywhere else. Not wanting to go back through the lobby and face the receptionist again, I went in through the back door and ran up the stairs to the bedroom, praying that I would replace Jack already there, that he would have arrived back while I’d been out looking for him. When I found the bedroom empty, I burst into tears of frustration. I told myself that the fact the car was missing went someway to explaining why he hadn’t answered his phone, because he never answered his phone while he was driving. But if he’d had to go back to the office on urgent business, why hadn’t he knocked on the bathroom door and told me? And if he hadn’t wanted to disturb me in my bath, why hadn’t he at least left me a note?

Increasingly worried, I dialled his number and left a tearful message saying that if I didn’t hear from him within the next ten minutes I was going to phone the police. I knew that the police would be my last port of call, that before phoning them I would phone Adam, but I hoped that in mentioning the police Jack would realise just how worried I was.

They were the longest ten minutes of my life. Then, just as I was about to call Adam, my phone beeped, telling me I’d received a text message. Letting out a shaky sigh of relief, I opened it and when I saw that it was from Jack, tears of relief fell from my eyes, making it impossible to read what he had written. But it didn’t matter because I knew what it would say, I knew it would say that he’d been called away unexpectedly, that he was sorry I’d been worried but that he hadn’t been able to answer his phone because he’d been in a meeting, that he’d be back soon and that he loved me.

I reached for a tissue from the box on the desk, wiped my eyes, blew my nose and looked at the message again.

‘Don’t be so hysterical, it doesn’t suit you. Something’s come up, I’ll see you in the morning.’

Stunned, I sat down on the bed, reading the message over and over again, convinced I had misunderstood it in some way. I couldn’t believe that Jack would have written something so cruel or been so cutting. He had never spoken to me in such a way before, he had never even raised his voice to me. I felt as if I’d been slapped in the face. And why wouldn’t he be back until the following morning? Surely I deserved some explanation and, at the very least, an apology? Suddenly furious, I called him back, trembling with anger, daring him to answer his phone and, when he didn’t, I had to force myself not to leave a voicemail that I would later regret.

I needed to talk to someone, badly, so it was sobering to realise there was no one I could call. My parents and I didn’t have the sort of relationship that would allow me to sob down the phone that Jack had left me by myself on our wedding night and for some reason I felt too ashamed to tell any of my friends. I would normally have confided in Kate or Emily, but at the wedding I realised how much I’d neglected them since I met Jack, so I didn’t feel able to call them either. I thought about phoning Adam to see if he knew why Jack had been called away so suddenly but as they didn’t work in the same field, I doubted he would know. And again, there was the feeling of shame that something could be more important to Jack on our wedding night than me.

Stemming the tears that fell from my eyes with a tissue, I made an effort to understand. If he was with one of the other lawyers, I reasoned, locked in some delicate meeting, it was normal that he had turned his phone off after my first attempt to contact him so that he wouldn’t be further disturbed. He had probably intended to phone me back as soon as he had a chance, but the meeting must have gone on longer than expected. Maybe during a quick break he had listened to my messages and, angry at my tone of voice, had retaliated by sending me a sharp text message instead of phoning me. And maybe he had guessed that if he did speak to me, I’d be so overwrought that he wouldn’t have been able to get back to his meeting until he’d calmed me down.

It all sounded so plausible that I regretted acting as hysterically as I had. Jack had been right to be angry with me. I had already seen how his work could impinge on our relationship—God knew how many times he had been too tired or too stressed for sex—and he had already apologised for it, and had begged me to understand that the very nature of his work meant that he couldn’t always be there, both mentally and physically, for me. I had been proud of the fact that we had never rowed but now, I had fallen at the first hurdle.

I wanted nothing more but to see Jack, to tell him how sorry I was, to feel his arms around me, to hear him say that he forgave me. Reading his message again, I realised that when he said he’d see me in the morning, he probably meant the small hours. Feeling much calmer, and suddenly very tired, I got undressed and climbed into bed, relishing the thought of being woken before too long by Jack making love to me. I just had time to hope that Millie was still sleeping soundly before I fell into a deep sleep.

It hadn’t occurred to me that Jack might be spending the night with another woman, but it was the first thought that entered my mind when I woke sometime after eight the next morning and realised that he hadn’t come back after all. Fighting down panic, I reached for my mobile, expecting to replace a message from him, if only to say at what time he would be at the hotel. But there was nothing, and because there was the possibility that he’d decided to snatch a couple of hours’ sleep in the office rather than disturb me, I was reluctant to phone him in case I woke him up. But I was desperate to speak to him, so I called him anyway. When I got his voicemail, I took a deep breath and left a message in as normal a tone as I could muster, asking him to let me know what time I could expect him at the hotel and telling him that we needed to call by the hospital to see Millie on the way to the airport. Then I showered, dressed and sat down to wait.

As I waited, I realised that I didn’t even know what time our flight was due to leave. I vaguely remembered Jack saying something about an afternoon flight so I guessed that we would have to be at the airport at least a couple of hours before. When I eventually received a text message from Jack, almost an hour later, I was again bewildered by its tone. There was no apology, no mention of anything except an order to meet him in the hotel car park at eleven. By the time I struggled into the lift with our two suitcases and my hand luggage, my stomach was churning with anxiety. As I handed the room key in at the reception, I was glad that the man I had spoken to the night before had been replaced by a young woman who, I hoped, knew nothing of my missing husband.

A porter helped me take the luggage out to the car park. I told him that my husband had gone to fill the car with petrol and headed for a nearby bench, ignoring his suggestion that I’d be better off waiting in the warmth of the hotel. I hadn’t wanted to take a heavy coat with me to Thailand and because I’d expected to go from the hotel to the car to the airport, barely venturing out into the open, I was only wearing a jacket which was no match for the vicious wind that whipped across the car park. By the time Jack showed up twenty-five minutes later, I was blue with cold and on the verge of tears. Stopping the car only feet away from me, he got out and walked over to where I was sitting.

‘Get in,’ he said, picking up the cases and loading them into the boot.

Too cold to argue, I stumbled into the car and huddled against the door, wanting only to feel warm again. I waited for him to speak, to say something—anything—which would go some way to explaining why I felt as if I was sitting next to someone I didn’t know. When the silence had gone on for too long, I summoned up the courage to look at him. The lack of emotion on his face shocked me. I had expected to see anger, stress or irritation. But there was nothing.

‘What’s going on, Jack?’ I asked unsteadily. It was as if I hadn’t spoken. ‘For God’s sake, Jack!’ I cried. ‘What the hell is going on?’

‘Please don’t swear,’ he said distastefully.

I looked at him in amazement. ‘What do you expect? You disappear without a word, leaving me to spend our wedding night alone and then you turn up half an hour late to fetch me, leaving me waiting in the freezing cold! Surely I have a right to be angry!’

‘No,’ he said. ‘You don’t. You have no rights at all.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous! Is there someone else, Jack? Is that what all this is about? Are you in love with somebody else? Is that where you were last night?’

‘Now it’s you who’s being ridiculous. You’re my wife, Grace. Why would I need anybody else?’

Defeated, I shook my head miserably. ‘I don’t understand. Is there some problem at work, something you can’t tell me about?’

‘I’ll explain everything when we’re in Thailand.’

‘Why can’t you tell me now? Please, Jack, tell me what’s wrong.’

‘In Thailand.’

I wanted to tell him that I didn’t particularly feel like going to Thailand with him in the mood he was in, but I took comfort in the fact that, once there, I would at least have an explanation as to why our marriage had got off to such a bad start. Because his mood seemed to be related to some sort of problem at work, I couldn’t help feeling apprehensive that it might be something I’d be seeing a lot more of in the future. I was so busy working out how I would adjust to being married to a man I hadn’t known existed that it was a while before I realised we were heading straight out to the airport.

‘What about Millie?’ I cried. ‘We’re meant to be going to see her!’

‘I’m afraid it’s too late,’ he said. ‘We should have turned off miles back.’

‘But I told you in my message that we had to stop by the hospital!’

‘Well, as you didn’t mention anything about it when you got into the car, I thought you’d changed your mind. Besides, we don’t really have time.’

‘But our flight isn’t until this afternoon!’

‘It leaves at three, which means we have to check in at twelve.’

‘But I promised her! I told Millie I’d go and see her this morning!’

‘When? When did you tell her that? I don’t remember.’

‘When she was in the ambulance!’

‘She was unconscious, so she’ll hardly remember.’

‘That’s not the point! Anyway, I told Mum that we’d call in and she’ll have told Millie.’

‘If you had checked with me first I would have told you that it wouldn’t be possible.’

‘How could I check with you when you weren’t there! Jack, please turn back, we have plenty of time. The check-in may open at twelve but it won’t close until much later. I won’t stay long, I promise, I just want to see her.’

‘It’s out of the question, I’m afraid.’

‘Why are you being like this?’ I cried. ‘You know what Millie’s like, you know she won’t understand if I don’t turn up.’

‘Then phone her and explain. Phone her and tell her you got it wrong.’

Frustrated, I burst into tears. ‘I didn’t get it wrong,’ I sobbed. ‘We have plenty of time, you know we do!’

He had never seen me cry before and, although I felt ashamed at resorting to tears, I hoped he would realise how unreasonable he was being. So when he swung the car off the road, taking an exit to a service station at the last minute, I wiped my eyes and blew my nose, thinking he was going to turn back.

‘Thank you,’ I said as he brought the car to a standstill.

Switching off the ignition, he turned towards me. ‘Listen to me, Grace, and listen carefully. If you want to go and see Millie, you can. You can get out of the car now and take a taxi to the hospital. But I’m going on to the airport and if you choose to go to the hospital, you won’t be coming to Thailand with me. It’s as simple as that.’

I shook my head, making fresh tears cascade down my cheeks. ‘I don’t believe you,’ I wept. ‘You wouldn’t make me choose between you and Millie, not if you loved me.’

‘But that is exactly what I’m doing.’

‘How can I choose?’ I looked at him in anguish. ‘I love both of you!’

He gave a sigh of irritation. ‘It saddens me that you’re making such a song and dance about it. Surely it should be simple. Are you really going to throw away our marriage simply because I refuse to turn back to see Millie when we’re already well on the way to the airport? Is that how little I mean to you?’

‘No, of course not,’ I gulped, swallowing down my tears.

‘And don’t you think I’ve been very generous in the past, never complaining about the amount of time we have to spend with Millie each weekend?’

‘Yes,’ I said miserably.

He nodded, satisfied. ‘So what’s it to be, Grace? The airport or the hospital? Your husband or your sister?’ He paused a moment. ‘Me, or Millie?’

‘You, Jack,’ I said quietly. ‘You, of course.’

‘Good. Now, where’s your passport?’

‘In my bag,’ I mumbled.

‘Can I have it?’

I picked up my bag, took out my passport and handed it to him.

‘Thank you,’ he said, slipping it into the inside pocket of his jacket. Without another word, he put the car into gear, drove out of the service station and back onto the motorway.

Despite what had happened, I couldn’t really believe that he wouldn’t take me to see Millie and I wondered if what had just happened had been some kind of test, and that because I had chosen him over her, he was now going to take me to the hospital. When I saw that we were once again heading for the airport, I felt desperate, not just because of Millie but also because, in the six months since I had met Jack, I had never even glimpsed this side of his character. I had never guessed that he could be anything but the kindest, most reasonable man in the universe. All my instincts told me to ask him to stop the car and let me out, but I was scared of what would happen if I did. In the mood he was in, there was no way of knowing if he would do as he had threatened and go on to Thailand without me. And, if he did, where would that leave me, us, our marriage? By the time we got to the airport I felt sick with stress.

As we stood in the queue waiting to check in, Jack suggested that I phone Mum to tell her that we’d been unable to call in at the hospital, telling me that the sooner I did, the better it would be for all concerned. Still bewildered by his attitude, I did as he asked and when my call went straight through to Mum’s voicemail I didn’t know whether to be upset or relieved. On balance, I decided it was probably just as well that I couldn’t speak to Millie, and left a message explaining that because I had made a mistake with the time of our flight, I wouldn’t be able to call in after all. I asked Mum to give Millie a kiss from me and to tell her that I would call once we got to Thailand. As I hung up, Jack smiled and took my hand in his, and, for the first time ever, I wanted to snatch it away again.

When it was time for us to approach the desk, Jack was so utterly charming to the hostess, explaining we were newly-weds and that we had had a disastrous wedding day because our bridesmaid, who had Down’s syndrome, had fallen down the stairs and broken her leg, that we were upgraded to first class. But it didn’t make me feel any better—if anything, the fact that he had used Millie’s condition to gain sympathy disgusted me. The old Jack would never have done such a thing and the thought of spending the next two weeks with someone who had become a virtual stranger was terrifying. Yet the alternative—telling Jack I didn’t want to go to Thailand with him—was equally so. As we went through passport control, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was making the biggest mistake of my life.

I felt even more confused in the departure lounge when Jack sat and read the paper with his arm draped around my shoulders as if he didn’t have a care in the world. I refused champagne when it was offered to us, hoping Jack would understand that I wasn’t in the mood for a celebration. But he accepted a glass readily, seemingly unaffected by the chasm that now existed between us. I tried to tell myself that what had happened between us was nothing more than a lovers’ tiff, a momentary blip on the path to a long and happy marriage, but I knew it was more serious than that. Desperate to understand where we had gone wrong, I went over everything that had happened since I’d stepped out of the bathroom less than twenty-four hours earlier, and when I remembered the panicked messages I’d left on his phone, I began to wonder if I was the one in the wrong. But I knew I wasn’t, I knew it was Jack’s fault, it was just that I was so tired I couldn’t work out why. Suddenly, I couldn’t wait to be on the plane, hoping that after being pampered for fourteen hours I would arrive in Thailand in a better frame of mind.

Because I had also refused to eat anything in the departure lounge, I was desperately hungry by the time we boarded, as I’d been too upset to eat breakfast. Jack was solicitous as we settled into our seats, making sure I had everything I needed, and my mood began to lift slightly. As I began to relax, I could feel my eyes closing.

‘Tired?’ Jack asked.

‘Yes.’ I nodded. ‘And very hungry. If I fall asleep could you wake me for dinner?’

‘Of course.’

I was gone before the plane had even taken off. When I eventually opened my eyes again, the cabin was in darkness and everyone seemed to be sleeping. Only Jack was awake, reading the newspaper.

I looked at him in dismay. ‘I thought I asked you to wake me for dinner?’

‘I thought it better not to disturb you. But don’t worry, they’ll be serving breakfast in a couple of hours.’

‘I can’t wait a couple of hours; I haven’t eaten since yesterday!’

‘Then ask one of hostesses to bring you something.’

I stared at him over the divide between us. In our other life, before we’d got married, he would have rung for the hostess himself. Where had the perfect gentleman I’d thought him to be gone? Had it all been a facade, had he covered his true self with a cloak of geniality and good humour to impress me? Aware of my eyes on him, he put down his paper.

‘Who are you, Jack?’ I asked quietly.

‘Your husband,’ he said. ‘I am your husband.’ Taking my hand in his, he raised it to his lips and kissed it. ‘For better or for worse. In sickness and in health. Till death do us part.’ Letting go of my hand, he pushed the button, summoning the hostess. She came immediately.

‘Could you bring my wife something to eat, please? She missed dinner, I’m afraid.’

‘Certainly, sir,’ she smiled.

‘There,’ said Jack, once she’d left. ‘Happy?’ He turned back towards his newspaper and I was glad he couldn’t see the tears of pathetic gratitude that had pricked my eyes. When my food was brought, I ate it quickly and, not particularly wanting to talk to Jack, I slept until we began our descent into Bangkok.

Jack had insisted on making all the arrangements for our honeymoon because he wanted it to be a surprise for me. He had already been to Thailand several times and knew the best places to stay, so, even though I had hinted heavily about Koh Samui, I had little idea of where we were actually going. I couldn’t help feeling disappointed when, rather than head for domestic departures, Jack led me towards the taxi rank. Soon, we were on our way into the centre of Bangkok and I couldn’t help feeling excited by the hustle and bustle of the city, although a little appalled at the noise. When the taxi slowed down in front of a hotel called The Golden Temple, my spirits lifted even more as it was one of the most beautiful hotels I had ever seen. But, instead of coming to a stop, the taxi continued on its way until we arrived in front of a good but less luxurious hotel three hundred metres further down the road. The lobby was better than its facade, but when we arrived in our room and found the bathroom to be so small that Jack would have trouble using the shower, I fully expected him to turn around and leave at once.

‘Perfect,’ he said, taking off his jacket and hanging it in the wardrobe. ‘This will do nicely.’

‘Jack, you can’t be serious.’ I looked around the room. ‘Surely we can do better than this?’

‘It’s time to wake up, Grace.’

He looked so solemn I wondered why it hadn’t occurred to me that he might have lost his job, and the more I thought about it the more I realised that I had found the perfect explanation for his sudden change of character. If he had been told sometime on Friday evening, I reasoned, my mind darting back and forth as I tried to work it out, he had probably gone back to the office on Saturday, while I was having my bath, to try to sort things out with the other partners before we left on honeymoon. Of course he wouldn’t have wanted to tell me during our wedding, of course my visit to Millie must have seemed paltry compared to what he was going through! No wonder he had wanted to wait until we were in Thailand to tell me what had happened and, as he had obviously changed our hotel reservation for something cheaper, I prepared myself to hear that he hadn’t managed to negotiate his job back.

‘What’s happened?’ I asked.

‘The dream is over, I’m afraid.’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ I said reassuringly, telling myself that it could be the best thing to happen to us. ‘We’ll manage.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, I’m sure you’ll be able to replace another job easily—or you could even set up on your own if you wanted. And, if things are really tight, I could always go back to work. I wouldn’t be able to have my old job back, but I’m sure they’d take me on in some capacity or other.’

He gave me an amused look. ‘I haven’t lost my job, Grace.’

I stared at him. ‘Then what is this all about?’

He shook his head sorrowfully. ‘You should have chosen Millie, you really should have.’

I felt a prickle of fear run down my spine. ‘What’s going on?’ I asked, trying to keep my voice calm. ‘Why are you being like this?’

‘Do you realise what you’ve done, do you realise that you’ve sold your soul to me? And Millie’s, for that matter.’ He paused. ‘Especially Millie’s.’

‘Stop it!’ I said sharply. ‘Stop playing games with me!’

‘It’s not a game.’ The calmness of his voice sent panic shooting through me. I felt my eyes dart around the room, subconsciously looking for a way out. ‘It’s too late,’ he said, noticing. ‘Far too late.’

‘I don’t understand,’ I said, choking back a sob. ‘What is it that you want?’

‘Exactly what I’ve got—you, and Millie.’

‘You haven’t got Millie and you certainly haven’t got me.’ Snatching up my handbag, I looked angrily at him. ‘I’m going back to London.’

He let me get as far as the door. ‘Grace?’

I took my time turning round because I wasn’t sure how I was going to react when he told me what I knew he was going to tell me, that it had all been some kind of stupid joke. Neither did I want him to see how relieved I was, because I couldn’t bear to think what would have happened if he had let me step over the threshold.

‘What?’ I asked coolly.

He put his hand in his pocket and drew out my passport. ‘Aren’t you forgetting something?’ Holding it between his finger and thumb, he dangled it in front of me. ‘You can’t go to England without it, you know. In fact, you can’t go anywhere without it.’

I held out my hand. ‘Give it to me, please.’

‘No.’

‘Give me my passport, Jack! I mean it!’

‘Even if I were to give it to you, how would you get to the airport without money?’

‘I have money,’ I said haughtily, glad that I had bought some baht before we’d left. ‘I also have a credit card.’

‘No,’ he said, shaking his head regretfully, ‘you don’t. Not anymore.’

Unzipping my handbag quickly, I saw that my purse was missing, as was my mobile phone.

‘Where’s my purse, and my phone? What have you done with them?’ I lunged for his travel bag and scrabbled through it, looking for them.

‘You won’t replace them in there,’ he said, amused. ‘You’re wasting your time.’

‘Do you really think you can keep me a prisoner here? That I won’t be able to get away if I want to?’

‘That,’ he said solemnly, ‘is where Millie comes in.’

I felt myself go cold. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Put it this way—what do you think will happen to her if I stop paying her school fees? An asylum, perhaps?’

‘I’ll pay her fees—I have enough money from the sale of my house.’

‘You paid that money over to me, remember, to buy furniture for our new house, which I did. As for what was left over—well, it’s mine now. You don’t have any money, Grace, none at all.’

‘Then I’ll go back to work. And I’ll sue you for the rest of my money,’ I added savagely.

‘No, you won’t. For a start, you won’t be going back to work.’

‘You can’t stop me.’

‘Of course I can.’

‘How? This is the twenty-first century, Jack. If all of this is really happening, if it isn’t some kind of sick joke, do you really think I’m going to stay married to you?’

‘Yes, because you’ll have no choice. Why don’t you sit down and I’ll tell you why.’

‘I’m not interested. Give me my passport and enough money to get back to England and we’ll put this down to some terrible mistake. You can stay here if you like and when you get back we can tell everybody that we realised it wasn’t meant to be and have decided to separate.’

‘That’s very generous of you.’ He took a moment to consider it and I found I was holding my breath. ‘The only trouble is, I don’t make mistakes. I never have and I never will.’

‘Please, Jack,’ I said desperately. ‘Please let me go.’

‘I’ll tell you what I’ll do. If you sit down, I’ll explain everything to you, just as I said I would. And after, when you’ve heard what I’ve got to say, if you still want to leave, I’ll let you.’

‘Do you promise?’

‘You have my word.’

I quickly weighed up my options and, when I realised that I didn’t have any, I sat down on the edge of the bed, as far away from him as I could. ‘Go on, then.’

He nodded. ‘But, before I begin, just so you understand how serious I am, I’m going to let you into a secret.’

I looked at him warily. ‘What?’

He leant towards me, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. ‘There is no housekeeper,’ he whispered.