The Secret Lives of Emma: Unmasked Read online

‘Mrs Benson.’

  She looked around and saw Sebastian standing at the kitchen door.

  ‘Your husband has been vanquished. He has passed out on the verandah. I have come to claim my prize.’

  ‘And what would that be?’ she asked, standing up straight.

  ‘You, obviously,’ he declared, pleased with his own audacity.

  ‘Oh, really. You can’t be thrilled with that – what kind of a prize is a second-hand wife? Why don’t you take his BMW instead?’

  ‘Seven series?’

  ‘Five.’

  ‘Hmm … I think I’ll stick with you.’

  ‘And it if it had been a Seven series BMW?’

  ‘I’d have taken you and the car,’ he said, his speech slightly slurred.

  ‘What if I don’t wish to be a prize?’ She stared at him, expressionless.

  ‘I shall respect your wishes and take his car.’

  ‘I don’t want to be a prize.’

  ‘Even though you are by rights mine I shall set you free.’

  ‘Very generous.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Emma saw he was drunk, but only realised how drunk when he took hold of the door frame to steady his about-face. He made his way down the hall, touching the wall from time to time, and out the front door.

  Emma followed him and stood at the doorway to watch him stagger down the street. David was snoring loudly where he slept on the day bed. She threw a rug over him and returned to the kitchen.

  FOUR

  Emma woke alone early the next morning. She grabbed an apple from the kitchen and took herself down to the beach, passing David on the way out. Some time during the night he had come inside and flopped onto the large sofa in the lounge room. He slept soundly.

  The short walk down to the beach in the morning sunshine lifted Emma’s spirits. When she stripped to her one piece and dived into the cool water her mind instantly became clear. By the time she had finished her laps, she had decided what she would do. She loved David. He had betrayed her. But she had betrayed him time and time again. Betrayal wasn’t possible between people who were honest with one another. She had wronged him and herself by not being honest with him from the beginning. The only way forward, she saw now, was to come clean. If she could forgive him, he should be able to forgive her.

  Stepping out of the water the dry sand warmed her feet. She jogged to the shower by the stairs and gritted her teeth as the bitterly cold water streamed over her, so much so she was shivering uncontrollably by the time she was done. Returning to her pile by the wall she wrapped the towel around her and rolled off her swimsuit. Drying herself the best she could she stepped into her yoga pants and pulled on her singlet.

  She was close to reaching the top of the steep hill on her way back home when she heard her name being called. She looked around her and up and down the street.

  ‘Up here,’ came the voice.

  She gazed up at the building she had been passing. Through the trees she saw a man leaning over a balcony about ten metres up and across from her. She stepped downhill a few paces so that she could see him properly. He wore large dark glasses.

  ‘Morning. Have a nice swim?’

  Emma couldn’t see who it was.

  The man lifted his glasses and grinned. ‘Sebastian,’ he prompted.

  Emma smiled. ‘Lovely swim. You should go down.’

  ‘I intend to. Just made coffee and warmed up some croissants. Fancy a cup?’

  Emma moved aside to let a neighbour she knew only to nod to pass by. The woman was being led by two large German shepherds who stopped briefly to sniff Emma. The larger of the two was rewarded with a stroke and a pat.

  When Emma glanced up again, Sebastian was gone. On her way up the hill, she had been thinking about confronting David as soon as she entered the house. She had been preparing her speech, but hadn’t, until now, taken into consideration the hangover he was certain to be suffering. Seeing Sebastian reminded her of the mess she would find in place of her husband. She didn’t relish the prospect of discussing such an important matter with him in that state.

  Then she heard the front gate of the building buzz. Emma expected to see Sebastian’s head pop over the railing again, but this didn’t happen. The gate was at the front of the property which was up around the corner on The Grove. Emma’s street. She took a few steps towards it then stopped.

  She looked up again to see if he was watching. He just assumed she would come up. Emma concluded from this that he was trying to suggest that it was completely innocent. Trying to keep it light. It was no big deal. Of course she would come up. It was just coffee. Why overthink it? But Emma couldn’t help but overthink it. Men were rarely innocent.

  She recalled their short conversation in the kitchen the night before. There was no doubting his intent then, drunk though he was. She wondered if he had seen her going down to the beach and whether he had lain in wait for her to return. She laughed at herself. What was she afraid of? Was he so irresistible that entering his domain was akin to sleeping with him? Killing time with Sebastian would give David more opportunity to recover. She rounded the corner and pushed open the gate.

  The house was newly renovated. Under a columned portico three steps led into a small foyer with a large curving marble staircase rising up to the next floor. It was obscene, tasteless, in the style of many newly developed Mosman homes. The kind of house a self-made man builds for himself. In the foyer Emma saw that a separate set of stairs led to a lower level. She could see the obligatory lap pool and the billiards table. She climbed the marble stairs and passed through the open plan dining and lounge rooms to the back of the house, which opened out onto another lounge and the balcony on which Sebastian had stood. Emma didn’t find him there. He was in the kitchen tucked away on her left.

  ‘What do you think?’ he asked.

  ‘There are no books.’

  ‘No. The man who owns the place doesn’t read. He is very proud of the fact.’

  ‘It shows. Does your home have books?’

  ‘I don’t have one.’

  Emma walked out onto the balcony. The view was her view only seen from a slightly different angle. This house was on the lower side of the street. Then she noticed the large telescope that was tilted towards the beach below.

  ‘It isn’t the beach you should be watching. It’s the big yachts,’ she said, taking hold of the telescope, being careful not to move it. She put her eye to the finder scope. It was trained on the part of the beach she habitually chose.

  ‘The yachts?’

  ‘They think they’re out of range. They don’t take into account the power of one of these.’

  ‘I’m glad mine is moored out of sight at Rushcutters Bay.’

  ‘Have you something to hide?’

  ‘Perhaps. But tell me, what do you see when you’re spying on the boats down there?’

  ‘I’m not telling. But they do things people won’t dare do on the beach until nightfall.’

  ‘I will be sure to follow your advice. How do you take your coffee?’

  ‘White with one.’

  Emma had assumed Sebastian was the same age as her husband, but looking at him in the bright morning light he seemed older. He wore jeans again and had bare feet but the blue t-shirt had been swapped for a white one. He certainly took care of himself. He reminded her of someone. He was unmistakably handsome. Had nice hands, too, she noticed as he put down her coffee.

  ‘How’s David doing?’

  ‘I left him asleep on the sofa. He seemed comfortable. How’s your head?’

  ‘Fine. I’m one of the lucky ones. No hangovers.’

  ‘Oh, you mean you’re a drunk!’ she said and laughed. His look told her she had hit the mark. ‘All the best people are,’ she added to soften the blow. She dropped her beach bag on an empty chair and sat down at the glass-topped table. As the balcony faced east, there was no avoiding the morning sun. She turned slightly so that she wasn’t being blinded.

  Sebas
tian placed a plate of croissants on the table and laid out two plates, butter, jam and a jar of Nutella. Emma took a sip of her coffee.

  ‘You don’t remember me, do you, Mrs Benson?’

  ‘No, I don’t. But then we met over a year ago, I think you said. While you don’t even remember what you said to me last night.’ She chose a croissant and opened the Nutella.

  ‘Oh, shit. What did I say?’

  ‘You really don’t remember?’ Emma laughed and Sebastian grinned. ‘I think you do,’ she said.

  ‘I haven’t the faintest idea. But if I had to guess …’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Do you always flirt this outrageously with your husband’s friends, Emma?’

  ‘No, sometimes I just fuck them.’ She bit into her chocolate-covered croissant. ‘Weren’t expecting that reply, were you?’ she continued with her mouth full and eyes smiling.

  ‘Said like a woman who has already decided not to fuck someone.’

  ‘Spot on. And not because I’m married, or because I don’t find you attractive, or because this house is a turn-off, or because of what you said last night.’

  ‘Then why?’

  ‘I have my reasons. You can put it down to the coffee you’ve made me. Terrible.’

  ‘I suppose it’s too late to convince you I had no ulterior motives when I asked you in for coffee?’

  ‘No, not when you put Nutella on the table, you old smoothie.’

  Sebastian laughed. ‘This is how you were that first time we met. I mean, not just with me, but with David, with everyone. I remember you because I hadn’t met anyone like you. You don’t remember me because I was just like all of the other men there.’

  ‘But now you’ve had the stuffing kicked out of you.’

  ‘Yes. Now I feel as though I have no time to waste.’

  ‘I’ve always felt that way.’

  ‘I didn’t get that impression last night. You were the very image of a banker’s wife.’

  Emma was silent. She couldn’t deny him that impression and she wasn’t going to tell him the truth.

  ‘To be perfectly honest, I was surprised to find you with David. I didn’t know he had married you. I hadn’t heard. I’ve always travelled a lot. I meet thousands of people every year. I don’t remember many of the people I meet. Few leave an impression. But you did.’

  ‘Because I’m a flirt?’

  ‘Because you have a pulse.’

  ‘That isn’t high praise. I meet many people who have a pulse.’

  ‘I bet you do. I bet you can raise the dead.’

  ‘That’s not what I meant.’

  ‘It’s what I meant. David has a gleam in his eye which would dull as soon as you left him. You have the power to animate people.’

  ‘You don’t know me. Or David. He is –’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I was going to say a barbarian in a suit, but that isn’t strictly true. That’s an impression I had early on. I recognised the power and wrongly assumed it was uncivilised, that it was a brute force. The trouble is it is super-civilised. Contained. And always has been.’

  ‘And you love him?’

  ‘Yes, more than anything else in the world.’

  As soon as Emma said this, she knew she meant it. A sudden rain shower could not have changed the mood as quickly as that admission.

  Now there was no reason for either of them to remain seated. Each stood.

  Moments later, Emma found herself out on the street, her beach bag slung over her shoulder, and walking towards her home, determined to rip her husband from the arms of her friend.

  FIVE

  ‘Where have you been?’ asked David as she climbed the front stairs. He was on the verandah with a coffee, his face paler than usual. He was wearing sunglasses.

  ‘Sebastian asked me in for a coffee. He saw me coming back from my swim.’

  ‘I bet he did.’ His expression was deadened. There was no playfulness here. He pulled out his cigarettes.

  ‘Why do you say it like that?’

  ‘He was boasting of his recent conquests. Since the tragedy he’s been sailing around the world, fucking as many women as will have him.’ He lit up.

  ‘What tragedy?’

  ‘What? He didn’t tell you? That surprises me. I would have thought he would lead with it. He lost his wife and daughter in a car accident. Since then he’s been in a downward spiral.’

  ‘He didn’t mention it. I mustn’t be his type. He didn’t try it on with me. Wait, now I’m offended. What’s wrong with me? Maybe I’m not his type,’ she said, smiling. She was still standing at the top of the stairs. David’s mood was hard to decipher. Was he being curt because of his hangover or because she had been with Sebastian? Or was there some other reason? Had Paul spoken with him?

  ‘You’re his type. He let that one slip.’

  ‘Is this you being jealous? I hope it is,’ she said, taking a step towards him.

  He turned away and looked out at the harbour. ‘I’m not jealous.’

  ‘Are you sure? It sounds like you are.’ Her tone was flat. How dare he turn away!

  ‘I’m not.’

  ‘So you wouldn’t mind if he bent me over the rail on his balcony and fucked me?’

  ‘I would rip his fucking head off.’

  ‘And what would you do to me?’

  He looked at her but the sunglasses made it impossible to work out what he was thinking.

  ‘What would you do?’ she repeated. This time her voice was raised.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  Emma knew this wasn’t the time to talk to him. He wouldn’t have slept well on the sofa. His head would be pounding. He was not himself. And he seemed genuinely angry at Sebastian for asking her in for coffee, and with her for accepting it.

  But she was angry, too. How dare he treat her like this, hangover or no hangover? He had no right to play the wounded husband. Their relationship was one lie after another.

  ‘OK. You don’t know. Maybe you can answer this one … How long did you think you could get away with fucking Sally behind my back? Can you answer that?’

  She saw his whole body flinch as though she had hit out at him. But beyond that, there was no response. He was paralysed. She wished she had waited until he had removed his sunglasses. She wanted to see his eyes.

  ‘Lost for words?’

  ‘Em …’

  ‘You bought her a fucking flat in Kirribilli! My best friend. Who the fuck do you think you are?’

  But this was all she could say. She was angry at him, and yet angrier at herself because she couldn’t allow herself the luxury of righteousness. She had no option, she had to retreat.

  She headed inside the house, confused. Her mind was no longer clear. What he had done, she had done. There was no way around it. She couldn’t remember how she had untangled the mess while swimming. It had seemed so easy then. This was messy. This was not how she had planned it. Her heart was racing. Her limbs felt weighed down.

  She was halfway up the stairs with her bag still on her shoulder before her legs gave way. She landed heavily and gripped the banister to prevent herself slipping down. She had forced Sally onto him. She had practically asked for this to happen. They were only finishing what she had started.

  Then the obvious questions came. Were they happy together? What were their stolen moments like? What were they like together? Were they good lovers? Well matched? Did David prefer fucking her? Sally was so beautiful. Perfect. She knew how to make a man happy, too. She said she had wanted a big man. How was he with her? Was he excited by her? Did he rush to her at lunchtime or after work?

  Paul was right. She couldn’t live here anymore knowing what she knew. She had to get out. This was all wrong. She was the perfect image of a banker’s wife. Her husband was even cheating on her!

  Her husband. Never had the word ‘husband’ sounded so ordinary to her. It had meant something entirely different to her moments ago. Something unique. Now it was that word other pe
ople use.

  David appeared at the bottom of the stairs. She hadn’t heard him come in. He had removed his sunglasses and it looked as though he had been crying.

  ‘I can’t talk to you,’ said Emma.

  ‘Em–’

  ‘If I start I won’t stop. I will not be able to undo anything I say.’

  ‘I didn’t buy her a flat. It’s rented. A serviced apartment.’

  ‘That makes it better. Thanks.’

  ‘I don’t want to lose you.’

  He had started to climb the stairs but Emma motioned for him to stay where he was.

  ‘Can I live with you knowing what I know?’

  David stared at her. He had no answer for that.

  ‘If I can’t I lose a husband and a best friend. If I can I lose my dignity.’

  ‘Don’t say that.’

  ‘I was ready to have your baby. I was ready to give up being me. To settle down. To love you as I have never loved anyone, ever.’ She paused to wipe her eyes. ‘Do you know what that means?’

  David stared at her, unable to speak.

  ‘We don’t have many options left, David. I can forgive but I can’t be the aggrieved wife. I can’t live the life I am expected to live now. I need you to know who I am. I need you to accept me as I have accepted you. Or this won’t work.’

  ‘I have always accepted who you are.’

  This was true. He had. What he knew of her.

  She rested her head against the banister, staring at him. Her heart hurt. His handsome face was pale, his steady, sure eyes were wandering. She could see he was searching for answers where there were none. The problem-solver was at a loss. She wanted to hug him; to take from him his troubles; to lift him up so that he could see beyond the barrier of his own philosophies.

  ‘We got off on the wrong foot.’ Emma looked at him earnestly. ‘In the beginning I had no idea where this was going. I had no idea how much I would love you. You mean everything to me now. But then we were just lovers. We were so busy fucking we didn’t have time for honesty, we were having too much fun. You were so different to the men I’d been seeing. You were so straight. I didn’t know what you could handle. I had to be careful with you. I had to lie.’