Page 51 of Wife After Wife
Ana’s heart sank, and she lowered her fork. “What’s wrong?”
“I expect you can guess.”
“You mean... HIV?”
She nodded. “One infection after the other, each one harder to shake off. He’s been laid up for weeks now and isn’t getting any better. He’s so thin, Ana. The prognosis is bleak.”
“Poor, poor Will. This is all wrong, he’s so lovely.” Ana felt tears rising and took a sip of her drink to distract herself. Suddenly the champagne tasted bitter.
“His friend Darius—you remember him?”
Ana nodded. Darius was the interior designer Will and Merry had employed to turn their Scottish castle from gloomy to glorious. He’d stayed on as some sort of manager for their American visitors, but their inner circle knew he was far more of a “wife” than Merry would ever be.
“He’s looking after Will. It’s horrible; I can’t bear to...” She stopped, took a deep breath. “I’m staying down here, mostly. You know I have the South Ken flat now? It was getting too expensive, staying in hotels all the time.”
“No, I didn’t know.” Ana was diverted from the dreadful news about Will for a moment, wondering why Merry hadn’t told her before. “Can I come round?”
“Sometime,” Merry said vaguely. “Tell me, do you hear much about Harry’s wife? Katie? I heard she was depressed after they lost that baby. Must be horrible for Harry.”
“He rarely discusses his home life with me. Poor Katie, she seems nice.”
“Seriously? That mouse? She issonot going to hold on to Harry unless she gets herself together.”
Ana frowned. “They were practically childhood sweethearts, or so Megan told me. You don’t turn your back on someone you’ve been with that long.”
“Oh no?” said Merry.
Ana decided to ask again. Merry was on her third glass of champagne, and her discretion was apt to fly out the window when she’d had a few.
“Hey, Merry, come on—it’s me. Be honest. Have you ever... you know, with Harry?”
Merry sighed. “Oh, what the heck. You’re my sister, and honestly, I could do with someone to talk to about it. But for god’s sake, not a wordto anyone, or your shiny new job could disappear in a puff of smoke.” She took a large swig of champagne.
“Well?”
“Yes, Harry and I have been having... I was going to say a fling, but it’s turned into a lot more. We’re in love, actually. And we’ve been a great support to each other, with our respective marriage problems. I think I’d go mad if I didn’t have my time with him.”
Ana found she had no appetite. Why did she feel such dismay, when Merry was only confirming what she’d suspected?
“Don’t go all po-faced on me, just because you’re marrying your dream man. The rest of us have to make the best of our circumstances. You know part of my understanding with Will was that I could sleep with whomever I wanted. And I wanted Harry. Luckily he felt the same.”
“And Katie?”
“He married her too young, and for all the wrong reasons. He told me that. And he’s too decent to shake her off. For now. But who knows what the future might hold?”
Was Merry intending to marry Harry? Ana had always been aware of her sister’s mercenary streak, but this was ruthless forward planning.
“I’ve had enough, Merry,” she said, pushing her plate away. She wasn’t sure whether she was referring to her sister or the food.
“Ana, stop being so holier-than-thou. If I marry Harry, how is that a bad thing for you?”
Ana picked up her bag, took out her purse, and threw a few notes on the table. “I seem to have lost my appetite. That should cover my half. I’ll see you at Christmas.”
Merry glared at her, but there was hurt in there too.
Ana strode out without looking back. She found a phone box, made a quick call, then hailed a taxi. “Notting Hill,” she said to the driver, hoping he’d pick up on the “not in the mood to chat” subtext.
He did, and she spent the journey staring out of the window, barely registering the Christmas lights along Oxford Street.
