Page 56 of Lost in Translation
Both Charlotte and Ruth convulsed into giggles, once Charlotte explained that the only injury was to the waitress’s pride. ‘Needless to say, Alastair decided against pasta and settled for a less slippery helping of turkey with all the trimmings.’
‘And speaking of slippery, you need to decide what to do about your snake of a husband. Don’t be one of those women who sticks it out for the sake of the kids while her own happiness dribbles down the toilet.’
Ruth was right, but Charlotte felt like the cowardly lion inThe Wizard of Oz. She desperately needed courage, but didn’t know how to find it.
Chapter 46
The doorbell disturbedCharlotte’s attempts to remove the hard water stains in the bathroom sink. Cursing under her breath, she squirted more product on to the stubborn rings and dried her hands.
As she wasn’t expecting any visitors, Charlotte sported ancient jogging pants and a vest top with a bleach stain. She quickly retied her unwashed hair with a bobble and checked the mirror in case her face was smeared with muck.
Whoever it was, they were persistent. ‘I’m coming!’ yelled Charlotte, clumping down the stairs that were next on her list for a mopping.
Opening the door, Charlotte gasped. Of all the people she might have imagined, the vision of wintry loveliness before her was right at the bottom of the list.
‘Hello, Charlotte,’ said Amelie. ‘I hope I haven’t disturbed you.’ She looked Charlotte up and down, her pert nose wrinkling in disdain at Charlotte’s house-cleaning ensemble. By contrast, Amelie looked like she’d stepped off the set of aDr Zhivagoremake. She wore an enormous furry hat, coupled with a deep purple military-style coat and a thick woollen scarf in shades of blue that emphasised her heavily mascaraed eyes.
‘Just doing a bit of cleaning,’ said Charlotte. ‘I’m afraid Dom’s not here. He’s at the office if you need to see him urgently.’ She kept the door ajar, unwilling to let Amelie inside.
‘Yes, he’s in back-to-back meetings all day,’ said Amelie, tugging off her hat. Her glossy blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders like a shampoo advert, and Charlotte’s dislike of the younger woman rose another notch. Whenever Charlotte took off a hat, her hair remained flattened to her skull. ‘It’s you I want to talk to.’
Despite the queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach, Charlotte gestured for Amelie to come in. This obviously wasn’t a social call, and if it ended in a cat fight, she would prefer the neighbours not to witness it.
‘Can I get you a tea or a coffee?’Or a mug of hemlock?Charlotte led Amelie through to the kitchen and filled the kettle.
‘Nothing for me, thank you.’ Amelie took a seat, undoing her coat and crossing her legs demurely at the ankle. ‘I'll get to the point, Charlotte. I know you’ve had suspicions for a while, and I think it’s time you heard the truth. Dom and I… We’re in a relationship.’ She tossed the sentence across the room as casually as a child throwing a ball to a friend, but there was nothing playful about her demeanour. Amelie’s countenance screamed smugness and jubilation.
Needles of anger stabbed at Charlotte, and she switched off the part-boiled kettle. ‘And you thought I needed to hear it directly from you? How incredibly thoughtful of you, Amelie. Do you make a habit of screwing other women’s husbands and then popping around to put them in the picture?’ The needles of anger gathered strength, and Charlotte banged the table with her fist. ‘Does he know you’re here?’
Amelie’s defiant look wilted at Charlotte’s words. ‘No, he doesn’t. He’s been — how shall I say — avoiding me recently. Not replying to my texts, and keeping his distance at the office. But I know it’s only because he’s afraid of losing his children. He’s told me many times that he only stays with you for their sake.’
‘How very noble of him,’ retorted Charlotte. ‘So what you’re saying is that Dom’s broken up with you, and you’re here out of sheer vindictiveness. What a lovely person you are, Amelie.’
Her nemesis scowled, tapping her immaculately polished nails on the table. ‘He just needs time to work things out. He says he loves me and he wants to be with me. You can’t cling on to a man who doesn’t want you any more.’
That, to Charlotte, sounded exactly what Amelie was trying to do. And it was what she herself had tried to do from the start, knowing deep down that their marriage was falling apart. But she felt little sympathy for Amelie.
‘My darling husband assured me not so long ago that you’d done nothing more than kiss, and that it was all a mistake. I’m assuming he was lying through his back teeth?’
Amelie’s top lip curled in a sneer worthy of Elvis at his finest. ‘I can assure you that we’ve donemuchmore than kiss. Your naivety is surprising, Charlotte. Although Dom did say — ah, such a funny English expression — you are not the sharpest tool in the box.’ She gave a tinkling laugh which made Charlotte want to hunt out Dom’s toolbox and select the sharpest object she could find.
‘You really are a poisonous bitch, Amelie, and I sincerely hope that karma bites you hard on your bony little arse one day. Now get out of my house, before I do something I might regret.’ Charlotte waited as Amelie took an eternity to button up her coat, put on her hat and get to her feet. A huge part of her wanted to grab the twisted cow by her scarf and drag her to the door, but an assault charge wasn’t something Charlotte needed right now.
Amelie paused in the hallway, her pretty features distorted into a mask of malevolence. ‘One day you’ll thank me. Because Dom will come to his senses and realise that what we have is special.’
Charlotte recalled Amelie’s words after the party. ‘I thought he was too old for you. Or was that just a smokescreen designed to steer poor dumb Charlotte down a blind alley?’ Amelie had been toying with Charlotte, a kitten with pointy claws dead set on getting what she wanted.
‘What he lacks in youth he makes up in energy,’ said Amelie, hastily backing through the door and slamming it behind her.
Amelie drove off, her brakes squealing as she negotiated the sharp bend at the bottom of the driveway. Charlotte imagined her misjudging the turn and her horror as the car careened towards the neighbouring vineyards, flipping over and exploding in a ball of flame. ‘Oh, your mistress?’ Charlotte would say casually when Dom returned home. ‘She’s toast, darling. Came around for a cosy chat, but ended up burned to a frazzle. Tragic. Now, can you pack your bags and get out of my fucking sight?’
That thought made Charlotte laugh; a hollow, bitter laugh as she replayed the entire surreal encounter. She considered ringing Dom, but if he was in meetings, he’d be unlikely to answer. Was Amelie on her way to the office now, ready to tell her lover that the whole messy charade was over?
Mopping forgotten, Charlotte took a hot shower to wash away the dirt of her labours. What she couldn’t eradicate so easily was the riot of emotions ricocheting around her head.
He only stays with you for the children’s sake.
You can’t cling on to a man who doesn’t want you any more.
