âMore than oneâ¦. How many men are you fucking? Is that why youâre saying what you are about Mike? You play fast and loose, so you assume everyone else does? I thought you and I had something special. I thought it was you and me; that we were an item?â
âI never said that. I never said anything like thatâ¦.â
âYou slept with me. We made love togetherâ¦.â
âBen, weâve had half a dozen dates; thatâs all. And yes, I slept with you, once. Butâ¦. So what? Iâm sure youâre a great guy, but I have never said that I wanted to be tied to you. You just assumed it.â
I fall silent. It seems the best policy while Ben gets his brain on to the same planet I live on.
He stares at me, his face slack, but I can see the wheels turning in his head. Then, âHave you screwed my brother?â
Oh, fuckâ¦.
In the background, I see Michaelâs eyes roll heavenward.
Should I lie?
Would it help?
No.
âYes.â
âYes? Youâve fucked Michael?â
And now Iâm beginning to panic, not thinking clearly. âIt was just once, a couple of years ago.â I stammer. âThey were at a club I go toâ¦.â
âThey? Whoâs âtheyâ?â
Oh, shitâ¦.
âWhoâs they?â he repeats.
I donât speak, staring at the floor and trying not to speak, before I make things worse.
The silence is palpable, threatening. I look up again. I try not to, but my gaze wanders between James and Michael, and Benâs eyes follow mine. And he gets itâ¦.
âThe two of them? Is that what youâre saying? You fucked with my brother and him together?â
He looks between the two of them, then Charlotte, then back at me. Then, his voice quiet, almost calm, âWere you planning on telling me this at some point?â
âIâd already decided that Iâm not being fair to you, that I should call a halt to this. We donât live in the same world, you and I.â
Ben paces up and down, swiping a hand through his hair, then he turns to face me, eyes wide, lips pressed white against each other.
âI donât believe you,â he says finally. âMike, tell me what the right of this is.â
Michael heaves a sigh, standing arms folded, looking his brother in the eye. âBen, Kirstieâs telling you the truth.â
The two brothers stare at each other; Michael calm, his expression almost regretful, Ben confused, unbelieving.
âYouâre seriously telling me that you married a woman, and you shared her with another man?â
âNo, Iâm telling you that he shared her with me, and then I married her.â
Ben stares at him. âYouâre not serious?â
âKirstie told it aright, Ben. Not everyone lives the same way.â Michael waves a hand across to James and Charlotte. âMy family consists of my wife and my best friend. Iâve known him longer than her, but they both mean a lot to me and for the three of us, it works. So, just think about that for a while, and calm down.â
Benâs face contorts. He stands frozen, his hands fisting, then with a snarl, he storms out of the room.
There is the sound of boots stamping downstairs, the bang of a door and then the rumble of a car engine which grows quieter as it fades into distance.
The three stand frozen. Charlotteâs gaze passes between the two men, wary and waiting. Michael, arms still folded, looks at the floor. James is glaring at me, his message unmistakable.
âUm, Iâll be going, shall I,â I mutter, and I exit the room, then the house.
Outside, it dawns on me that I am stranded. Ben brought me here and has driven away, leaving me behind. I canât even call a taxi. My purse and money were in his car. So was my mobile.
Should I go back into the house? Ask if I can use their phone?
I donât dare. The expression on Jamesâ faceâ¦.
Lost for what to do, I sit on a tree stump looking down over the glorious lake view. Iâm trembling, and after a minute, I realise Iâm crying, tears rolling down my cheeks. Then uncontrollably, the sobs come, heaving at my body, wracking me in their wakeâ¦
âWhy are you still here?â Itâs Michaelâs voice from behind me.
Hastily I stand, trying to wipe my face with the back of my hand. As I turn, he looks stern, angry, but his face softens when he sees me trying to wipe my face dry. Fishing in his pocket, he produces a tissue and offers it to me.
âWhat are you doing here?â he repeats as I blow my nose and try to clean my face. My skin feels hot.
Some women can cry and look good, but Iâm not one of them. I know that my face is blotchy, my nose red.
âBen brought me.â I sniffle. âHeâs driven off without me, and my bag and everything else is in his car.
Iâve no money on me, or credit cards, or even my phone.â
âWhy the hell were you even here in the first place, Kirstie?â
âI didnât want to come, but Ben was so angry when he thought heâd seen Charlotte and Jamesâ¦.â I swallow my words. âWhen he thought heâd seen themâ¦. I was trying to stop him, or at least calm him down.â
Michael looks rueful. âDidnât help much, did it? Look, itâs getting late. Iâd put you up in the hotel overnight, but I donât think itâs a good idea for you to risk running into James right now. Iâll call a taxi to get you home. Have you got keys to get back in?â
I nod. âThereâs a spare set with my neighbour, thanks. I donât think itâs going to help much with James though. Iâll have to see him at the office tomorrow, assuming I still work there.â
Michael slings an arm around my shoulder, giving me a gentle shake. âIâll try to cool him off a bit before tomorrow. Come on, letâs get you home. Go and wait in the hotel lobby. Iâll make the call for you.â
*****
The following day, I am sitting at my desk, working, but waiting for the storm. Nausea rises in my throat and I couldnât face breakfast.
The intercom buzzes. âHello, Kirstie. Itâs Francis here from the directorâs floorâ¦.â
Here it comesâ¦.
âCan you come up please; immediately. Mr Alexanders has phoned to say he would like a word with you.â
During the journey up the elevator, my stomach clenches. How will a man like James Alexanders react to what happened? Do I still have a job?
Iâve just lost the best job I ever hadâ¦.
As I step out, there is a pleasant-faced woman seated at a desk.
âKirstie?â
Feeling timid, âYes, thatâs me.â
âTake a seat. Mr Alexanders is on his way now.â She looks across at me, I think with some sympathy in her eyes.
Waiting doesnât help my mood at all, but itâs only for a minute or so. The elevator door whispers open and James Alexanders steps out, wrath written across his face.
He points a long finger at me, then through an office door. âIn there, now.â Then he turns to the receptionist. âFrancis. Turn off the intercom, please. This is private.â She doesnât say anything but taps a button.
It doesnât look as if Michael calmed him down muchâ¦.
He swings back on me, thumbing at the office door. Glumly, I follow him through, standing, facing downward as he turns on me.
âDo you have any idea how much trouble you have caused?â he hisses. âFor me, for Michael and Charlotte. And even for Ben? How do you think he feels now? Are you proud of yourself?â
I stare at the floor. âIâm sorry. I did try to stop him. I was trying to help.â
âHelp? How were you trying to help?â
I canât speak. My mouth is dry, my heart pounding. I realise that I am frightened of this man, of what he might do.
After a pause, he repeats. âKirstie, what do you mean.⦠You were trying to help?â
I swallow hard, trying to get my words out. After another moment, a finger pushes up my chin making me look up into the slit-eyed gaze of James Alexanders. âTalk to me, Kirstie. This is not a request.â
I suck at my mouth, trying to work up enough saliva to speak.
âBen said heâd been up to see his brother, at his house in the mountains. He was angry. He said that Charlotte was being unfaithful to his brother; that heâd seen her, with youâ¦. I tried to stop him, really, I did. But he was.⦠out of control.â¦â