Page 58 of Lost in Translation
Hours from telling her husband that their marriage was over, Charlotte couldn’t deny the attraction between herself and Jürgen any longer. It shimmered in the air, an electrical charge of pent-up emotions. But they couldn’t act upon it, even though Charlotte saw her longing reflected in Jürgen’s eyes.
‘I have to go.’ She got unsteadily to her feet, the shakiness down to what lay ahead and what she knew she had to walk away from.
‘Charlotte.’ Before she could take a step, Jürgen rose and wrapped his arms around her. She stiffened for a moment, then accepted the steadying embrace. She inhaled his musky aftershave and buried her face in his chest. The rhythmic thump-thump of his heartbeat helped her own to find a calmer pace. They stood like that for what seemed an eternity, but could only have been a few minutes.
Finally, Jürgen released Charlotte, planting a tender kiss on the top of her head. ‘You will be OK.’ It wasn’t a question. ‘I’m here if you need me. At the end of the phone, ready to fetch you if you need to escape. With no strings, Charlotte.’
He walked her to the apartment door, and she paused. A huge part of her wanted to stay, and not have to face the ordeal ahead. Then Charlotte looked at Jürgen. Her very own Wizard of Oz, giving her — no,showingher — that she had all the courage she needed.
‘You’re smiling again.’ Jürgen ran the back of his hand gently across her cheek. ‘That is good. Keep smiling, Charlotte. And be brave.’
Five minutes later, driving home, Charlotte realised she was still smiling.
Chapter 48
‘Honey, I’m home!’Dom’s recent attempts to sound like a jocular husband from some excruciating fifties American sitcom set Charlotte’s teeth on edge. She imagined removing her starched gingham apron and drawing the strings tight around his neck, his last vision a pyramid of lovingly baked cupcakes.
‘Did you have a good day?’ Charlotte dribbled virgin olive oil and balsamic vinegar over the salad she’d prepared.
‘Not bad. We’re looking at opening up two new stores in Switzerland. Early days, but profits are on the up in the existing ones.’ Dom nabbed a cherry tomato and popped it into his mouth. ‘Any word from the boys?’
Charlotte shook her head. Although several of their classmates had mobile phones, she and Dom didn’t see the need yet. There was plenty of time for them to get sucked into the black hole of social media, selfies and one-upmanship.
‘I had a visitor the other day.’ Charlotte tossed a handful of toasted pine nuts into the salad. Dom looked at her quizzically, but a telltale twitch beneath his right eye told her what she needed to know. ‘It was Amelie. What a delightful young woman she is, Dom. I can see why you’d be attracted to her. Want to kiss her, in fact. Except you did a lot more than that, didn’t you?’
Dom’s twitch intensified. Charlotte took a vegetable knife from the rack and chopped half a cucumber with deadly precision. With each slice, she pictured parts of her husband’s anatomy tumbling to the floor in a bloody heap.
‘She told me she came here,’ Dom stammered, watching Charlotte’s rhythmic slicing. ‘I’d said it was over between us — me and Amelie — not that it was ever more than a stupid infatuation on my part. The stupid cow only did it to force my hand, sweetheart. Please believe me. I got carried away and I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.’
Charlotte scattered the cucumber slices over the salad. Poached salmon with a tarragon sauce was resting in the fridge to complete the meal. The Last Supper. Complete with Judas, the man who’d vowed to forsake all others but betrayed his wife repeatedly.
‘You’ve lied to me right from the start.’ Charlotte set the food out on the table. ‘It’s been going on since before we moved here, hasn’t it? And I swallowed every word like the idiot I am.’ Before Dom could interrupt, Charlotte raised a silencing hand. ‘Amelie said you’d described me as not the sharpest tool in the box. That stung like hell. But she was right, in a way. It’s taken me far too long to face the fact our marriage is over. Because it is, Dom.’
‘Sweetheart, don’t say that. Please. We can fix this, I know we can.’ Panic swamped Dom’s features, his eyes wide with disbelief.
Charlotte almost laughed at his reaction. Did he really expect her to carry on as if nothing had happened? She only had his word that the affair was over. For all Charlotte knew, his avoidance of Amelie was only temporary. Given time, she’d lure him back with the promise of magical sex, and Dom would revert to his old cheating ways.
‘Do you still love me?’ She blurted out the question, knowing the answer would change nothing.
For a moment Dom didn’t reply. He gave a tiny shrug, as if Charlotte had asked whether he would prefer red or white wine with dinner. ‘Of course I do. We’ve had a bumpy patch, but we’ll get through it. Splitting up isn’t an option, not least because of the boys.’
Charlotte looked at the man she’d thought she’d grow old with, and the tension she’d borne over recent months melted away. Starting afresh as a single mother scared her, but staying unhappily married terrified her even more.
‘Children aren’t glue, Dom.’ She looked at the untouched food, her appetite gone but her resolve rock solid. ‘Alastair and Robson will still have parents who love them. Even if they live in different countries.’
‘Charlotte, please don’t do this.’ Dom’s eyes shone with tears. He hardly ever cried. She recalled him welling up at both the boys births, and once during a silly movie, but that was it. ‘Let’s talk some more and figure this out.’
Charlotte picked up her plate of salmon, covered it in clingfilm, and placed it in the fridge. ‘Enjoy your dinner; I’ll be in the lounge watching TV. When you’ve finished, I’d appreciate it if you’d pack some things and go as soon as possible.’
* * *
Charlotte hadno idea what she was watching, but it involved lots of swearing, weeping and door banging. She stuffed handfuls of paprika crisps into her mouth, hunger dictating that she ate something. Upstairs, Dom clattered around. He’d popped in three times begging to talk, but Charlotte waved him away.
‘Where am I supposed to go?’ His earlier contrition now carried an edge of wounded bitterness.
‘To Amelie. To Zurich. To the moon. I really don’t care.’ Charlotte licked crisp crumbs off her fingers. Her phone lay next to her on the couch. A message from Jürgen had arrived minutes before:Are you OK?She hadn’t replied yet.
‘When did you turn into such a cold-hearted bitch?’ Dom loomed over Charlotte, the face she’d once adored distorted with anger.
