‘I didn’t hate him.’
&
nbsp; ‘Even now that he’s dead in the ground, you have to think the worst of him, don’t you?’
‘No, Di, honestly, I was happy for you. I cried at your wedding and they were real tears of joy; you were going to have the life we never had. Why wouldn’t I be happy?’
‘Exactly!’ cried Diana, pushing at her chest. ‘Why weren’t you happy? Why couldn’t you leave us alone?’
Rachel barged past her, her expression changing.
‘Because he wasn’t good enough for you, Di!’ she cried finally, her voice loud and clear as if it had been liberated from some place deep inside her.
‘Why?’ Diana’s own tone was more anxious. She felt as if she was walking over cracked ice, as if at any moment it would break and she would plunge into the unforgiving icy depths beneath.
‘Because he was a cheat, a womaniser. He always was. And men like that keep on cheating until they break you down. He wasn’t good enough for you, for Charlie. And that’s why I didn’t fight to stop the story about his infidelity. I knew it would hurt you, but I knew that in the long run you were better off without him.’
‘That wasn’t your choice to make,’ growled Diana, tears beginning to roll down her cheeks. ‘It wasn’t any of your business.’
‘Well Julian made it my business,’ roared Rachel.
Diana looked at her and saw that she was crying. The sight of tears glistening like a clear, cold mountain stream down her sister’s cheeks made her stand quite still. Rachel never cried. But now Diana could see a deep sadness welling in her dark irises, and she knew that something was upsetting her a great deal.
‘What the hell does that mean?’ she whispered fearfully.
Rachel moved away, but Diana grabbed her arm.
‘Answer me, what does that mean?’
‘You don’t want to know.’
‘Yes,’ hissed Diana, pushing her face close to Rachel’s, ‘I do want to know. I want to know why you think you’re such an expert on my family and why you clearly have such a low opinion of the man I loved.’
Rachel’s eyes burned with defiance. ‘You want to know? You want to know what kind of man he was, you want to know why I wanted him out of your life?’ She held her breath, as if she had a split second to turn back. ‘He didn’t just have sex with that model. He wanted sex with me. What sort of a man would try to have sex with his wife’s sister?’
‘LIAR!’ Diana’s hand flew out and she slapped Rachel hard across the face.
For a moment the world seemed to stop turning. Rachel stood there clutching her cheek.
‘Why would you say such a wicked thing?’ whispered Diana.
‘Because it’s true,’ croaked Rachel between sobs. ‘It happened in Italy a few summers ago when we all went away together. He was drunk, so was I. He followed me . . .’
Diana could remember that Tuscan holiday vividly. It had been the week of Julian’s birthday, and they had invited Rachel along for the ride. She could picture her sister now, reluctant to join the wives and girlfriends in their poolside manicure sessions. Instead she had raced around the grounds with water pistols, organised impromptu girls-versus-boys water polo matches and regaled the dinner table with scurrilous stories about unfaithful celebrities and industry rumours from the City desk. The female guests had frowned at her antics but the men had been fascinated by her. ‘I’m not like those other women,’ she’d heard Rachel say to one of them, and it was certainly true.
‘I think you need help,’ said Diana, starting to shake, not wishing to concede that her own husband had been enchanted by Rachel. ‘You’re crazy, a fantasist. What did he do? Ask you for a light? For a drink? And you think that he wanted you.’
‘It was a bit more than that,’ Rachel said, looking away.
Diana felt a wave of nausea. An image popped into her head. Of Rachel and Julian, giddy on red wine, heady from the sun. She stamped the thought out before it sharpened into more painful focus.
‘You had sex with him?’
‘Of course I didn’t. But he tried to kiss me, whispered things in my ear . . . I said no and he wouldn’t take that for an answer. I almost had to kick him in the bloody balls.’ She shook her head violently.
‘I don’t believe it,’ whispered Diana.
‘Of course you don’t. Maybe I’m not as beautiful as you or all those other women in Tuscany, but I think Julian just wanted what he couldn’t have. And he didn’t care that that was your sister. He didn’t care who he hurt or humiliated. I wanted him out of your life, Di, though not in this way, and I am so sorry and sad about what happened to him. But he didn’t treat you the way you deserved to be treated.’