Happily Ever After_ - Benison Anne O'Reilly [110]
‘Okay.’
No, I didn’t poison it. I let him think that things were normal, even if I was more subdued than usual. The only thing that might have given me away was when he came up behind me at the table to give me a quick hug and a kiss goodbye. I couldn’t help the flinch.
‘Is everything alright?’ he asked, looking at me closely.
‘Yeah, fine.’
He’d offered to look after Issy that afternoon so I let him get through the day unscathed, but at 5pm I called from the hairdressers to say, ‘You know Hemingway’s, where we went the other night. Can you meet me there in an hour? Myrna will be coming to babysit again.’
‘Why?’
‘We need to talk about something.’
‘Why can’t we just do that at home?’
‘It’s something I don’t want to discuss in front of Isabel.’
‘Oh…’
I arrived first and ordered myself a glass of wine. It was coolish but I chose an outdoor table. I’d taken care with my appearance: wearing my favourite dark denim jeans, high heels and a black jumper that set off the colour of my hair and clung to me in the right places. I’d even had a professional blow-dry for the occasion. The last time I’d confronted my husband about his infidelity it definitely hadn’t helped to be fat and naked. In times of crisis I think it always pays to look your best.
Tony approached me slowly, wearing an expression like he was about to face his executioner.
‘What’s going on?’ he asked.
‘You tell me.’
‘What?’
‘I think you have something you need to tell me.’
‘No.’
‘You do.’
He sighed. ‘I thought something was up this morning.’
‘Yes. Her name is Wendy, I believe.’
‘Okay…since you obviously know. Somehow she’s got hold of my phone number but I’ve refused to see her. I’m going to kill the fucking person who gave it to her when I find out. The whole thing is over and has been for ages - I just wish she’d get the message. Do you want me to see about getting some sort of court order? I’m not sure what the procedure is here.’
‘No. I don’t think that will be necessary.’
‘How did she get to you?’
‘You can ask her yourself because I think that’s her coming right now.’
One glance from Tony told me that it was her. He put his hands over his eyes and shoulders slumped down in defeat.
‘Why is she here?’ he groaned.
‘I invited her.’
‘Why did you do that? She’s mad I tell you. I bet she’s been telling you lies.’
‘No, I think you’re the one who’s been lying. For four years I hear.’
All this time she’d been walking closer to us - finally I was face to face with Wendy Wong. I could fill in the blanks on the woman who had haunted my life. I don’t think I would ever have imagined her in a million years. She was younger than me I felt, although it was unclear by how much, and beautiful in that immaculate way of Asian women. Her hair was black and dead straight and cut in a blunt cut which ended in a perfect line at her shoulders, not one strand out of place. She was not as tall as me and much more delicate, the bones in her hands and arms exquisitely fragile and fine. Inexplicably, an image of baby pigeon bones from our Chinese banquet the night before flashed into my mind.
Tiny little pigeon bones: a few years ago I would have liked to have smashed those bones until they were powdered dust, but now all I felt towards Wendy Wong was curiosity.
Don’t be fooled, however. Fragility of frame doesn’t always mean fragility of temperament. When she reached our table she looked first to me with interest. Then she turned to Tony. ‘This can’t be your wife?’
‘I assure you I am,’ I said.
‘But he said you were fat.’
‘Did he now?’ I said, also turning an enquiring glance towards my husband.
‘No I didn’t.’
‘You did. You told me that she was fat and had let herself go.’
‘That was ages ago.’
There was an expression on Tony’s face I’d never before