When I get out of the shower Nigel is waiting for me in the bedroom. I walk past him without looking at him and go to my wardrobe.
I open my underwear drawer. “Have you called him?” “No.”
“I’ve got to pick up Nan now. I’ll be back this afternoon. Please make that call by then.” “We need to talk,” he says.
I let my towel drop and pull on my panties. “No, we don’t.” “Our marriage …”
“Shame you didn’t think about it while you were happily gambling away everything we have,” I spit. He walks towards me. “Please, Star.”
In the mirror, I see him standing behind me. His hand reaches out, and I watch transfixed, as his fingers caress my breast. His hand is a few shades darker than my skin.
The image is erotic.
I carry on watching him. Surprised at how I feel absolutely nothing. He slides around to the front of me and latches his mouth onto my nipple. I look down at him suckling at my breast. Like a … vampire. He looks up and our eyes meet. The expression in my face makes him freeze. He pulls his mouth away and straightens.
“I’ll be late,” I tell him. “I love you,” he says.
“Yeah, you said.” I side-step him and pick up the first pair of jeans my hands fall upon.
“I’m sorry. I am really, really sorry. If I could turn back the clock I’d do everything differently,” he wails.
“Shame, then, that you can’t turn back the clock.” “I’m going to find another way.”
I look at him expressionlessly. “Like I said, I’ll be home after lunch. Make sure you either have the four hundred and fifty thousand pounds ready to pay off your debt, or you’ve made an appointment for me to see the Russian this evening.”
“You’re pretty eager to give yourself to him,” he says bitterly.
I turn around and slap him hard across the face. So hard his face jerks all the way to the side, and the palm of my hand stings. I look at the white imprint of my palm on his cheek. I have never hit anyone before.
“Get out,” I snarl.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“The longer you stand here the more respect I’m losing for you.” He holds his face and walks out of the room.
I get dressed and go downstairs. He comes out into the hallway. Totally ignoring him, I walk out of the front door. Once I’m outside, I feel the tears start stinging behind my eyes. I blink them back. No matter what happens Nan or Dad must never know. I get into my car and drive down to Nan’s house. Grandad opens the door.
“What’s up, Love?” he asks, patting my shoulder. “You look a bit pale.” “Nothing. I think I might be coming down with a cold. I don’t feel that well.” “Is that Star?” Nan shouts from the bedroom.
“Who else would it be?” he shouts back. “Come in. Come in,” Grandad invites.
I walk through the hallway. “Nan, I’m not feeling too well. Is it okay if I get you a taxi? I’ll go see Dad tomorrow.”
“What’s wrong with you, Love?”
“I must be coming down with something. Whatever it is, I definitely don’t want to give it to Dad.” “No, no, definitely not. Sit down and I’ll make you a cup of tea.”
I smile weakly at her. “No, I won’t stay. I think I’ll just go back and get back in bed.” “You shouldn’t have come around. You should have just called.”
“I only started to feel bad in the car.” It’s partly true. The true enormity of the situation only started to hit home while I was driving over.
I take my phone out and call Uber and arrange for Nan’s transport to the hospital. Then I get back into my car and drive to Hyde Park. I park in a place I shouldn’t, but quite frankly, I don’t care if I get a ticket.
It is a dull, overcast day, and rain is forecast, but I go into the park. Sitting down on an unoccupied bench, I g****e ‘gambling addiction’ on my cellphone. Over four million pages on the subject. I start clicking on the links and find out the most important thing to remember is not to lose faith if a loved one wants to overcome addiction.
That a support system is absolutely vital for the recovery process. It is a difficult road to travel, but the way to make the process easier and more successful is to recognize that it is actually an illness. A mental illness. I learn that addictions can change the way the brain functions. It skews perceived needs so that the addiction becomes the top priority, and that is what leads to the compulsive, uncontrollable behavior.
Apparently, there are millions of people who have a gambling addiction. Some to a lesser degree, but for some it is bad enough to wreck marriages and families.
I scroll down and read about other people’s experiences. Wives who have left their husbands. Wives who have stayed and supported them through the hell. The main advice they all offer is to be a support system, but not to become the enabler.
The most important aspect of support is communicating in an open and honest way and creating boundaries, they say, by telling your loved one what you are and aren’t willing to do. Being consistent in your expression of loving them and wanting to help. Replacing bad environments with good ones and changing routines. Joining a support group is highly recommended. Feelings of isolation can creep in so a support group is vital.
I close my phone and stare at some kids playing in the distance. I think of my yellow room with its painted daffodils. It was a stupid idea, anyway. A baby’s room should be blue or pink. I’ll repaint it in a month’s time. Or maybe I’ll wait until I know the sex of the baby. I think of myself walking by the Bonpoint store in Soho, a French label that makes gorgeously over-the-top clothes for children and babies. I had to fight the temptation to go in. But once I gave in and pushed open the door … oh, it was a treasure trove of wonderful things.
Nikolai.
The name flashes into my mind. Who is this man? Why does he want to hurt Nigel so much that he would take his wife for a month? At the thought of someone wanting to hurt Nigel a deep sense of protective instinct for Nigel kicks in.
I remember the day he proposed. He hired the whole Café du Paris and filled it with can-can dancers
that he had flown in from Paris. One of the dancers came and called me up to the stage. I didn’t know what was going on. Blood was pounding in my ears. Then the curtain of dancers parted and I saw him get on one knee.
I thought I would die with happiness.
Yeah, it was showy, but I was young and that was the happiest day of my life. Until my wedding day arrived, that is. Nothing will ever top that. We were both so excited about the future. Not even my parents’ long faces could dim our happiness. How handsome he was standing in his blue morning suit.
When he turned to look at me, I almost fainted with happiness.
I stood in that small, sunlit church and promised for better or worse. Now Nigel is ill. An addiction is just as much a disease as cancer is.
I’ll stand by Nigel as long as he wants to change. Other women have stood by their husbands and won the battle against this disease. If this Russian thinks he will destroy what I have with Nigel, he can think again.
My phone rings, startling me out of my thoughts.
Star “Wanna do breakfast?” Rosa, my best friend, asks. I’ve know her since we were in primary school, and she’s always taken it upon herself to look out for me. She doesn’t sound quiteawake yet.“Yes,” I say automatically. “What’s up?”“Nothing.” “Bullshit.”“What makes you so sure something’s up?” I ask. “Let’s call it tone.”“I’ll tell you when I see you.” “But you’re all right?”“Yes.”“Sure?” she insists. “Sure.” “Lucianos?” “Okay.”“Can you get there in twenty minutes?” “I can get there in ten,” I tell her.“See you in ten, then.”As I park the car it starts pouring down with rain so I hold my bag over my head and run into the café. As I stand inside the doorway brushing my hands down my light jacket, I spot Rosa. You cannot miss her.She is stick-thin with flaming red hair cut into a smooth bob. She is wearing scarlet lipstick and what looks like a lace
Star I gasp. “That is low. Even for you, Rosa. Nigel is absolutely devastated. You would be shocked if I told you what his original plan to sort out this mess was.” Rosa folds her arms and looks at me steadily. “Be good enough to share his brilliant plan with me.”“He was going to arrange for an accident … for himself so that I could collect on his life insurance money.”Even saying the words is painful to me, but Rosa bursts out laughing. “And you believed him?”The way she laughs makes me feel foolish, but I straighten my spine. Rosa can’t be objective about Nigel. Until this morning, Nigel has always been good to me. “Yes, I did. You should have seen the state he was in this morning.”“I love you, Star, but honestly, when it comes to Nigel you are just unbelievably naive. I mean, if I hadn’t met you before you got entangled with him, I would have written you off as an irredeemable bimbo. You think the su
Star When I get back home, Nigel is in the front room slumped on the sofa. The atmosphere is tense and strange, and there is an open bottle of whiskey on the coffee table. “You switched your phone off,” he says, standing up and coming to me. His hair is ruffled and his face is pale and stressed. I’ve never seen him look so unhappy and depressed. “Why?”“I didn’t want to speak to anybody.” My voice is wooden. “Where have you been?”“Out,” I say briefly.There is a flash of something in his eyes. “Where?”I want to say, none of your business, but I can’t. This is my Nigel. My hero for so many years. Turns out my idol has feet of clay, but he is still my husband. “I met Rosa for coffee,” I reply, as I brush past him to go upstairs.“Did you tell her about me?” he asks in a strange tone.I turn around to look at him, surprised that he’d even ask. “Yes.” “I bet she was delighted,” he says bitter
Star I lay down on our unmade bed and close my eyes. I didn’t make it this morning so it has remained unmade. I think of Nigel opening my legs last night, and my stomach churns at the thought of giving my body to a complete stranger. I clench my hands and take a deep Then I dig my phone out of my bag and call my nan. I keep up the fiction that I’m not feeling well and she agrees to go see my dad alone tomorrow. In fact, she suggests that I take the whole weekend off. I thank her, then call my mother.“Hi, Mum,” I say quietly. I can hear the sound of a TV in the background. “Nigel said you were not feeling very well. What’s wrong with you?” “Probably one of those flu things.”“Well, that’s what you get for going to hospital every single day. Oh, for heaven’s sake anyone would think that man was dying the way you keep running to his bedside.”“What did you want, Mum?”“Can’t I just call my daughter withou
The chauffeur nods and waits while I slide into the seat. Soft classical music is playing and the car smells of expensive perfume. The door closes, and the man walks around to his side of the car. I turn my head to look at the windows of my house. At the living room window, I see Nigel standing there staring at me. There is something so lost and forlorn about the defeated droop to his shoulders that I bleed inside.The driver gets into his seat and the car starts to move. I stare out of the window seeing nothing. All I can think of is Nigel standing at the window. As the car leaves Earls Court and takes the M4 out of London, I start to pay attention. We make steady progress until the car smoothly joins the M25. There is more traffic here, but less than twenty minutes later we take the slip road out of the motorway. After a little while, I see signposts for Virginia Water, Surrey. I’ve been there once. One of Nigel’s friends lives on the Wentwo
NIKOLAIShe stares at me in shock, her beautiful eyes wide, her mouth parted, and a river of primitive possessiveness rushes through my veins. I’ve got her. She’s mine now. “Did you … are you Nikolai?” she gasps.“If he’s not me, then he’s one lucky bastard,” I say. Her mouth snaps shut and she squares her shoulders. “Would you like a drink?” I ask.“No thank you,” she says stiffly.I smile and walk to the liquor cabinet.“Sorry, but can we please get on with this?” she shoots. Her eyes are combative. She wants to take control of a situation where she knows she has none.“We already have. You are here under my roof, are you not?” Her eyes regard me with hostility. “Why did you bring me here?” “I wanted you,” I say simply, watching her.Her dowdy appearance cannot disguise her unique beauty. Her long golden hair tightly pulled back only serves to highlight her flawless skin. Even in this most
Star His eyes betraying nothing but indifference. Yes, I’d like to use your body for a month, but it wouldn’t bother me too much whether you stayed or went. But my hands are shaking with terror.Not fear of him, but of my own unnatural desire for him. It’s the kind of craving I’ve never known before. Until now I never suspected there could be such a need for another human being. A stranger.Of course, I love Nigel. I love him deeply. My love for him feels as warm and comfortable as an old blanket. Makes me safe. I know I can trust that love to last until I am grey and wrinkled.What I feel for this cold-eyed monster is raw and dangerous. Even from where I am standing I can feel the waves of sexual tension coming from him. Like heat from the Mediterranean sun. Heating up my blood. Making me feel hot and strange.One kiss?I’m already hanging on to the edge of the cliff by my fingernails. Barely able
Star Standing next to Celine, I rifle through the small collection of outfits.There are seven items, and I can tell even without looking at the labels that they are all uberexpensive. It is also quickly apparent that they are all extremely sexy. A mix of plunging necklines, backless designs, daring slits.There is a beautiful silver mini dress that Rosa would love, and a clinging, silk pantsuit I wouldn’t be caught dead in, but there is also a long, black dress with a deep-plunge, wraparound halterneck.“Great choice. Very classy,” Celine approves. I undress quickly.“You won’t be able to wear a bra with this.I ditch my bra, and pull the daring dress up over me. Celine ties it at the back of my neck, then comes around the front to stand a couple of feet in front of me.“It suits you perfectly,” she says with a satisfied nod.Then, she crouches down on the floor, and pulls out a shoe box fr