Page 40 of Lost in Translation
‘Are you sure it’s not too much trouble?’ Charlotte felt guilty for relying yet again on her friend. Depending on how things went with Dom — as in, would she be throwing him out? — she needed to pay Sadie and Rick back for all the times they’d helped her.
‘Charlotte, the boys are adorable and Rick’s never happier than when he’s hammering in tent pegs and pretending he’s a Boy Scout. He’ll probably spark up a campfire and have them singing Ging Gang Goolie.’
The hands on the kitchen clock seemed to move painfully slowly. Charlotte checked her phone and her watch. Just under half an hour to go, assuming Dom was on schedule. She willed herself to breathe normally, feeling her pulse quicken at the confrontation ahead. A thought bounced around her head, one that had plagued her sleep, and to be honest her mind, for several days.If Dom was having an affair, why don’t I feel more upset?Yes, she was angry and hurt, but was she heartbroken? When she prodded her feelings, she realised that the hairline crack in their relationship had widened into a gulf she didn’t know how to fix. Or even if she wanted to fix it.
The sound of a car pulling up dragged Charlotte back to the present. She’d offered to pick Dom up at the station, but he’d insisted on taking a taxi. Maybe that was because he’d taken the train from the airport with Amelie and didn’t want Charlotte to see them together. Assuming he’dflownanywhere. For all Charlotte knew, Dom might have been snuggled up in a cosy little boudoir a few miles away, oblivious to the world as the two of them writhed around on a king-size bed.
‘Hey, I’m back!’ Dom stood at the kitchen door, his bag slung over his shoulder. ‘Where are the boys?’
‘Still at camp, and Sadie’s taking them to hers for a sleepover.’ Charlotte sat down, her fingers tracing the shallow score in the table where Alastair had pressed too hard with a compass.
‘Aww, that’s a pity. I thought we could all go out for dinner tonight to celebrate my return.’ Dom dumped the bag on the floor and opened the fridge. ‘Fancy a cold one?’ He waggled two bottles of beer at Charlotte, who shook her head. ‘Well, I need one — more than one — after all that time with the folks. Jeez, I love them and all, but they’re hard work. How’s Alastair’s arm, by the way? I hope you haven’t been letting him overdo things.’
The suppressed fury bubbling in Charlotte’s stomach made a bid for freedom. He’d barely asked about the boys and was still continuing this ridiculous charade. Enough was enough.
‘You know, something strange happened the other day.’ Charlotte tried to keep her voice steady, but the words wobbled from her lips.
‘Oh, what’s that then?’ Dom flipped the cap off the bottle and took a swig, his countenance as angelic as a choirboy.
‘Well, I wanted to speak to you about Alastair’s accident, but you didn’t reply to my calls or messages. So I called your parents.’
Dom’s countenance changed from choirboy to defendant in an instant. He didn’t speak, but sat down opposite Charlotte and peeled the label off the bottle.
‘You weren’t there, Dom. Your mother thought I was barking mad, and I even questioned my own sanity. But there’s no reasonable explanation I can come up with. You lied. And you’re still fucking lying.’
Dom flinched, either because she’d caught him out or because he hated Charlotte using the F-word. Well, she had several more swear words up her sleeve unless he started talking.
‘I… It’s a bit embarrassing, but it’s not what you think.’
‘And how do youknowwhat I think? Oh, let me see, most wives would probably think, “Hmm, my husband claims he’s staying with his parents, but it turns out he’s not. So what could he be up to? Ah, shagging another woman, that’s what!”’
‘Sweetheart, I—’
Charlotte shoved back her chair, the legs scraping across the floor. ‘I want the truth, Dom. Right now. Or I’m heading upstairs to empty your wardrobe into bin bags and toss them out of the fucking window.’
Dom crumpled up the label, his eyes failing to meet Charlotte’s.
‘OK, OK, I get why you’re upset, but I can explain. I didn’t want to tell you the truth, because I thought you’d think I’d flipped, or something. The thing is … I went to a retreat.’
Charlotte gawped at him in disbelief.A retreat? Had Dom suddenly found religion, or a need to seek inner peace? For a second an image flashed into her mind of him wearing robes and tinkling a small bell. No, ridiculous. Dom was more likely to take up paragliding than—
‘I needed to get away, Charlotte. Work’s been crazy, and, well, we haven’t exactly been happy, have we? I don’t think you understand how much pressure I’ve been under, and all the nagging doesn’t help.’
Nagging? Charlotte didn’t nag. In fact, she prided herself on being infinitely patient, even when left to run the household and look after their boys virtually single-handed.
‘Bullshit. If anything,I’mthe one who needs a sodding retreat. Yes, you work hard, but so do I. Parenting two young boys isn’t easy, Dom, and even less so when one half doesn’t pull his weight.’
Dom looked wounded. ‘I do my best, sweetheart. I’m sorry you feel that way, which is another reason I didn’t want to tell you where I was going.’ He reached for his bag, rummaged in the front pocket, and pulled out a piece of paper. ‘Here. This is where I’ve been.’
Charlotte took the paper, an invoice as far as she could see, and scanned the details. At the top, an image of the Alps with a silhouette of a man standing on one leg in a yoga pose. Below the picture, the words:Find Your Inner Calm. Destress, Detox & Delight At Alpine Oasis.
She glanced at Dom, who’d recovered his equilibrium. In fact he was grinning, his inner calm duly restored. Charlotte hadn’t seen her inner calm for days, and she doubted she’d find it soon.
‘A yoga retreat? Seriously?’ If he’d confessed to a secret spot of Formula 1 racing or hot-air ballooning, Charlotte might have swallowed it, but yoga?
Motioning for her to sit down again, Dom took her hands in his. For a moment she remembered Jürgen doing the same. Then, she’d felt comforted, even though part of her said it was wrong. Now… Charlotte stared at Dom’s familiar hands with their fine dusting of silky hair and the right thumbnail he chewed when anxious. Dom stroked Charlotte’s palm, a gesture she once found a turn-on. Now, it irritated her, and she folded her hands in her lap.
‘I still don’t get all the cloak and dagger stuff. Surely telling me the truth would have been better than letting me think what I did. Were you scared I’d laugh, or something?’ Indeed, Charlotte might have done, picturing Dom doing a Sun Salutation or wrapping his legs around his ears.
