Page 50 of Lost in Translation
Chapter 41
‘You were gone a long time,’grumbled Dom, as Charlotte put away the bits and pieces she’d picked up after leaving Jürgen. ‘Did the ballet dancer give you a full-blown guided tour of her mansion?’
Ignoring his snarky remark, Charlotte filled the coffee canister with instant granules and put the kettle on. Seconds later Alastair and Robson bowled into the kitchen, complaining of starvation. With little enthusiasm for cooking, Charlotte unearthed a packet of crispy cheese and ham pancakes and a bag of chips and put the oven on to heat. ‘Boys, this won’t take long. Why don’t you go play outside until it’s ready? I’ll give you a shout.’
They scampered off, Robson collecting a stray football from the basket of miscellaneous toys and play equipment in the utility room.
‘Be careful with your arm,’ Charlotte added. Alastair rolled his eyes but nodded in agreement.
Satisfied they were a safe distance away, Charlotte lined up the pancakes and chips on a baking tray. Dom hovered behind her, an open beer already in his hand.
‘I thought we were having chilli tonight,’ he said, taking a bottle of white wine from the fridge. ‘Those things don’t really float my boat, as you know.’
Accepting a glass of wine instead of making coffee, Charlotte faced the man she’d said ‘I do’ to ten years ago. She remembered the pre-wedding nerves, her mum fretting that her hat didn’t match her outfit, her dad pacing up and down the lounge because the silver Bentley they’d ordered to take them to church was two minutes late. And Ruth, her best friend since childhood, telling Charlotte she was the most beautiful bride in the world, and Dom the luckiest man. Ruth, who’d asked Charlotte several times after they’d got engaged if she was one hundred per cent sure that Dom was the right man for her.
‘Earth to Charlotte! Sweetheart, you’re a million miles away.’ Dom pinched her cheek playfully.
Charlotte swatted his hand away and took a swig of Dutch courage. ‘I wish Iwerea million miles away, because occupying the same breathing space as a lying, adulterous bastard is seriously affecting my mental health.’
Dom attempted to arrange his features into a ‘not that old chestnut again’ expression, but his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed hard. ‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about, Charlotte. We’ve been over the whole Amelie thing, and I’m tired of being accused of something—’
‘Someone saw you, Dom.’ Charlotte cut him off, unable to listen to more lies tumbling out of his mouth. ‘At the retreat, where you claimed to be alone meditating or whatever bollocks. And you were actually getting your leg over with that biker-booted bitch!’
Dom blanched at Charlotte’s fury, but she could almost hear the cogs whirling in his head as he tried to come up with an explanation. ‘It’s not what you think,’ he stammered, causing Charlotte to laugh out loud. ‘If you just calm down, I’ll tell you the truth.’
‘Dom, I honestly believe you wouldn’t know the truth if it slapped you round the face. So spit it out. You’re having an affair with her, aren’t you?’
Her husband slumped into a chair and studied his beer bottle. Charlotte checked where the boys were, relieved to see them at the bottom of the garden deep in conversation.
‘Answer me, Dom. I’ve spent months with doubt gnawing at my insides after stupidly swallowing your pathetic excuses. Don’t make me feel a bigger fool than I already do.’
‘OK, OK, I’ve been an idiot, but I promise you I have not had sexual relations with that woman.’ Dom gave her his finest doe-eyed look and Charlotte snorted in derision.
‘What, you’ve turned into Bill bloody Clinton? Please spare me the bullshit, or you can pack a bag and get out right now.’
Before Dom could continue, the boys barrelled into the kitchen, screeching to a halt as they picked up on the frosty atmosphere. ‘Is something wrong, Mummy?’ asked Alastair. ‘You look angry.’
‘Mummy’s fine,’ Dom interjected. ‘We were just having a little chat. Now, let’s get your dinner on the table—’ His voice tailed off as four sets of eyes took in the stone-cold, uncooked tray of food.
‘Oops,’ said Robson. ‘Can we have some cheese and crackers while we wait?’
* * *
Once the boyswere in bed, Dom followed Charlotte outside to the small side terrace, which was well away from the boys’ rooms. He carried the wine bottle and another beer, and Charlotte a bowl of mixed nuts. Neither of them had eaten much earlier, with Alastair and Robson scoffing six pancakes each and a mountain of chips.
‘Whatever you do, don’t start yelling.’ Dom poured Charlotte a generous glass of white and scooped up a handful of nuts. ‘We can talk like rational grown-ups, can’t we?’
Could they?It had taken every ounce of self-restraint not to order Dom out of the house after getting the boys down for the night. As they sat around the table Charlotte had cringed at Dom’s faux joviality, carrying on as if it were just another day. The perfect family, chatting about inconsequential stuff without a care in the world. She’d marvelled again at her husband’s ability to put on a performance and decided that he was wasted in the world of business. Dom deserved an Oscar.
‘So, Mr President,’ Charlotte began. ‘If you didn’t have “sexual relations” — she formed air quotes with her fingers — ‘what exactlydidyou have? A frisky fumble, a game or two of tonsil hockey, or a full-on grope?’ She’d decided that sarcasm was a useful weapon, because it distracted her from the likelihood Dom and Amelie were way beyond first base.
‘Charlotte, that’s hardly an adult way of discussing this. I said I’d been an idiot, and I want to explain. Please, just listen and… Well, just listen.’
According to Dom, he’d mentioned the yoga retreat to Amelie, who was into such things as well as astrology, crystals, and fairy cards. Charlotte bit down another sarky comment at that one. What the actual fuck were fairy cards, and why would anyone be interested in them?
‘She said she fancied a break too, and if I minded her booking at the same time. Separate rooms,’ Dom added hastily. ‘Stupidly, I agreed. Maybe I felt more comfortable knowing there was someone familiar there.’
‘As opposed to your wife?’ Charlotte arched an eyebrow. ‘Oh, that’s right. You were meant to be visiting your parents, not halfway up a mountain getting bendy with Miss Sparkly Pants.’
