‘Just chill out there and stay out of sight. We don’t want the papers getting wind of where you are. Okay? Oh, and some clothes will be delivered to you shortly. I’ve sent them via courier.’
‘Okay, I’ll speak to you later.’ As the call ended Nate realised he was shaking. His hands trembled and his head pounded as he pressed the button to call Emma. It rang a few times before she answered. When she finally spoke, her voice was cold and harsh.
‘You’ve got a bloody cheek ringing me.’
‘Emma, look, I’m really sorry for all of it, but we need to discuss how we’re going to get through this. I’ve been speaking to Robin and he suggests we put off the divorce—’
‘What? For God’s sake, Nate, really? You know how serious things are between me and Stewart now.’ Christ, she was selfish sometimes. And cold. She’d always had an ice queen quality about her that, in the beginning, he’d found attractive. Her cool good looks – pale skin, blue eyes and light blonde hair – had set her apart from all the other girls. But as time had gone on, the coolness had become an impenetrable coldness freezing him out of her life. At first, she’d been happy to stay with him as he was getting more famous, hoping there’d be a knock-on to her career. But then she’d become jealous, jealousy had turned to anger, and anger had turned into affairs. Since things had got serious with her latest fling, divorce was suddenly on the cards. ‘Why shouldn’t I just do it now?’ she asked spitefully. ‘The world’s on my side remember, Nate. Every woman in the country is going to sympathise with me. Do you know how humiliating this is for me? A glamour model. I mean, how corny can you get? Every little detail of your sordid affair is going to come out if we’re not careful. Do you realise you’re dragging our name through the mud?’
Nate felt the heat of shame rise up his spine. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said again. ‘But I think we can come out of this with some dignity though if we do what Robin says. He’s concerned that if we split now and the press go digging, they’ll find out …’ He searched for the right words, not wanting to openly mention her affairs and settled on ‘more’. Nate lowered his head, placing his thumb and index finger on his temples. Applying some gentle pressure, he tried to ignore the pounding at the back of his eyes. ‘I made a mistake, Emma, just like you did.’ He didn’t want to remind her that she’d begged him not to end their marriage when he’d discovered her first affair. The memory still stung. She’d asked him to keep it quiet, and he’d agreed to turn a blind eye for months now. ‘Please? All I’m asking for is a little … understanding.’ She scoffed. Emma loved to throw salt onto the wound and he was fed up of being a doormat, all for the sake of public image. ‘Listen, Robin is trying to speak to Hannah’s agent, offering her some money to keep this private. He thinks we should put off the divorce for another six to eight months and let this die down—’
‘Six to eight months? Are you fucking joking? I was thinking two at the most.’
‘I wish I was.’ The line went quiet while she considered it. She must know it was best. Making a bigger deal of things now with a messy split would only encourage the press to dig into their lives and see if he’d done it before, which would risk them uncovering her affairs and ruining her reputation. Her big-wig producer daddy would ruin his career forever if that happened. He’d already threatened that after one of her early affairs. They both needed this. He could picture Emma thinking, pushing her hand through her long, blonde hair. She was more likely to listen to a suggestion of Robin’s.
‘Fine,’ Emma agreed with a huff. ‘But, Nate—’
‘Yes?’
‘Get this sorted. Now.’ She hung up.
‘I will,’ he said to himself, placing his phone down on the bed. He had to. If he didn’t, he’d lose everything.
Thank God it was Wednesday, Sarah thought, checking the work diary on her desk. The start of the week was always ridiculously busy at the doctor’s surgery where she worked as a receptionist. Somehow the townsfolk became super sick over the weekend and so, at eight-thirty each Monday morning, when the phone line switched from voicemail, the entire population of Greenley-On-Sea called up to see the doctor. Sarah loved her job, but she was always surprised at how open people were about their problems, even though she never asked. The things she’d heard had created frightening mental pictures. Pictures she could never un-see. She also suspected some of the more menopausal women had a crush on Finn too, because they insisted on seeing only him. Sarah couldn’t imagine anything more embarrassing than discussing hot flushes, dry lady bits, and hormone replacement therapy while Finn looked at you with his gorgeous brown eyes and smiled reassuringly with his lovely kissable lips. Realising she was chewing her pen lid and ignoring Mandy, the other receptionist, Sarah quickly pulled her attention back to the conversation.
‘So then,’ Mandy continued, ‘Harry says to me, “Don’t you think you should cut down, you’ll only moan about being fat later.” Bloody cheeky sod. So do you know what I did?’
‘What did you do?’ asked Sarah, smiling and switching on her desk fan. It was getting hot already. When the doors opened for the day their location on the seafront meant a cooler breeze would let some air in, but it was going to be another scorcher.
‘Well, I hit him over the head with my family bar of choccy and told him if he ever said anything like that to me again, I’d divorce him.’ Sarah could well believe it. She didn’t want to get on the wrong side of Mandy, as some of their more pushy patients had found out. Though a little bit scary she was an absolute joy to work with. She’d started at the surgery six months ago and was both scarily efficient and hilariously funny. They both liked Wednesdays best. The crazy Monday morning rush of emergency appointments had passed and it was all a little more relaxed come the middle of the week, which meant they could actually enjoy their jobs and catch up on the gossip. Even moody Dr Stephanie Shepherd was a little bit less horrible. Unlike Finn, Dr Shepherd didn’t like to take extra appointments, and from Monday through to Wednesday had a face like a constipated bear.
While Mandy regaled Sarah with a detailed account of the subsequent argument between husband and wife, a figure approached the automatic door and held up his hand in greeting. It was Dr Finn MacDonald and Sarah could feel the smile lighting up her face. She got up to go and open it, smoothing down her dress. Her favourite striped summer dress that stopped at just the right place, making her legs look long and lean. She reached down behind the fake plastic pot plant to switch the automatic door to open and let him in. He was in his normal black suit with a grey shirt, undone at the collar and no tie. His slightly curly strawberry blond hair fell onto his face and Sarah tried to play it cool. As soon as the gap was wide enough, Finn squeezed his tall, rangy frame through the doors. ‘Thanks. Morning, Sarah.’ He smiled and his eyes sparkled.
‘Morning, Dr MacDonald.’
‘Morning, Mandy.’
She broke off mid-sentence. ‘Morning, Doc.’
‘Nice weekend?’ he called over his shoulder as he strode towards the office.
Sarah’s mouth opened, ready to tell him all about Nathaniel Hardy but remembering it was a secret, closed it again. ‘Not bad, thanks.’ She tidied some magazines on the small coffee table next to a bank of chairs. ‘I didn’t really do much. You?’ He turned to answer her, walking backwards.
‘Oh, I met some friends but otherwise no, pretty quiet actually.’ The corners of his mouth lifted causing creases to form in his cheeks, then he spun back and went into his office. Sarah took her seat at the reception desk and tried to stop fantasising about kissing him, by tidying up her in-tray. About ten minutes later Finn came back out carrying a file and Sarah concentrated on her screen. The next thing she felt was him leaning down, his arm resting on the back of her chair as he placed the file beside her keyboard. His naturally husky