Well, Charlie was bold. Reckless. That headlong, crazy drive of his had got them where they were today. But the truth was, she hated flying, full stop. It terrified her. So she had to brace herself, put a smile on her face. This should have been a happy day. But it wasn’t, because of all the shit she’d been through with Charlie Stone. The day she’d met him, her life had started running down a long and unhappy path and Christ knew where she would end up.

But today she had to act the happy wife and mother. For this one day, she would force a smile and cut a cake and toast her husband in champagne; she would act out the lie that was her life.

88

Jill was in the gatehouse kitchen when Terry came in.

‘All ready?’ he asked her.

‘Yeah. Think so.’

‘You look great,’ he said, coming over, giving her a kiss on the cheek and a hug.

Jill wasn’t looking forward to this damned party, not at all. But she’d made an effort; she was wearing a red Carolina Herrera cocktail dress, a cream jacket, heels and matching bag. Terry would want her to put on a good show today and she’d do anything for him.

Jill stood in her husband’s arms, feeling his heat, his strength. She adored him. Loved the bones of him. Then she thought of Charlie and Nula – they were like a curse, those two. And the Bartons were tied to them, they’d never be free. Charlie had never come near after that one time, and thank God for that, but he’d scarred her. Ruined her, so that every time Terry made love to her, it was always Charlie’s face she saw. She’d stiffen and Terry would say, what’s wrong? And of course she couldn’t tell him.

‘It’s all going to be fine,’ he said against her hair. ‘I know you don’t go for parties much, but . . .’

‘Ah, it’s OK,’ she sighed. ‘I’ve never liked Charlie, you know that. And that wife of his, what a bitch she is.’

‘Nula? She’s not so bad.’

‘She’s a nutter,’ said Jill flatly. ‘Always in and out of hospital, getting her brains fried. Ever since she lost baby Jake, she’s been off her head. And the way she sneers down her nose at me. Snobby cow. And have you seen her nails?’

‘What?’

‘Her fingernails. Chewed down to the quick. And the skin all around them, chewed to fuck. I tell you, she’s not right. She’s a head case. And he ain’t any better.’

‘Well, just for today, you got to be nice to them, OK? And polite.’