‘That was fun,’ said Rachel. ‘Thanks.’ She went into the bedroom, retrieved two towels and threw him one.
‘Sounds like you haven’t been getting much fun out here.’
She tipped her head to one side, to let the water drain out. ‘No, not a lot.’
‘Well, all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. Why don’t we keep going? I’ve got the car here, it’s a lovely evening; let’s go and find some more fun.’
‘Adam, no. I’ve got things to do.’
She didn’t recognise her own voice. She was usually the first one to suggest a spontaneous night out, and yet here she was saying no to the one man who had always intrigued her.
‘Nothing that won’t wait a few hours, surely?’
She looked out across the lake, lazy sunlight twinkling off the surface, insects zooming and diving through the haze. It was a nice evening, she thought. And it was stuffy in the Lake House. And if she had to look at any more CCTV footage, she thought she might scream.
‘All right,’ she said, standing up, suddenly feeling bold. ‘I’m in your hands, Adam Denver.’ She paused, letting the words hang in the air. I can flirt too, you know, she told herself. ‘But I’d better get changed first, otherwise I’ll leave a puddle on your leather seats.’
‘I don’t mind,’ he said, squinting up at her. Rachel could feel his gaze on her body, her soaked T-shirt clinging to every curve. Well, let him look, she thought.
He stepped over to her – was he going to make a move? Lean in for a kiss? Instead, he plucked a leaf from her hair.
‘Are you going to keep those on?’ said Rachel, staring at his wet boxer shorts.
‘That’s what all the girls say,’ he teased.
‘I mean, I can go and see if Liam’s left anything . . .’ she stuttered.
‘Another man’s pants?’ He smiled. ‘Don’t worry. I’m sure I can go without for one evening.’
All Rachel could do was blush furiously.
54
Diana stepped away from the window, wrapping her arms around herself. It was a warm evening, but she still felt cold. From the Peacock Suite she had a good view of the lake and the road leading away from Somerfold; she could still see the back of Adam’s Aston Martin disappearing around the last curve. She tried to take a deep breath, but it was ragged, shaky. She had seen him. She had seen them. Together. Adam and Rachel. Together. She had seen them swimming in the lake, she had seen them run out of the water half dressed, she had seen them disappear into the house for almost ten minutes and then leave for who knows where. Suddenly the spell seemed to break. Diana’s hand flew to her mouth and she bolted for the toilet, bending over the bowl, heaving up her meagre lunch.
How could he? How could she? Rachel was her sister, for God’s sake. And to think she’d bought all that crap about how Julian had forced himself on her when clearly her instincts had been right first time – Rachel had led him on in Tuscany, her jealousy pushing her to grasp at the one thing that made Diana happy. And now she was doing it again, trying to take Adam away from her.
She grabbed a fistful of toilet roll and wiped her mouth.
What a mess, she thought, remembering that she had woken up that morning feeling unusually positive. She had spent the previous day in her bedroom with the curtains closed, crying on and off, unable to deal with the horrific possibility that she was carrying Adam Denver’s child. Was it God’s vengeance on her for her moral slip? Was Julian punishing her from beyond the grave for failing to provide him with a baby of his own? Or was it just all a terrible, terrible mistake she’d have to live with? Mrs Bills had tried to coax her out, but she had complained of a migraine and hadn’t touched the food that had been left outside the door on a tray.
But this morning, with the sunlight pushing through the curtains, Diana had felt the dark cloud lift. Was it really so bad? She had a new life inside of her, someone to love and cherish, someone else to care for. And just because it hadn’t been planned didn’t mean that the child would not be welcomed. Adam would have remembered they had been so drunk, so reckless in New York that they had not used a condom. He would guess that the child might be his. He wanted a child, a family. He had told her so himself that day in Dorset. And although he had been cold and uninterested in her since New York – she felt sure that he was as confused as she was – perhaps a baby was what he needed to make him confront his feelings. To the outside world it would look as if the baby was Julian’s last gift to her, a miracle life springing from the ashes, while Adam could play the part of the caring uncle until the time arrived to come clean to their family and friends about their relationship. In many ways it had panned out perfectly.
There was only one person in the world she wanted to share her thought process with, and that was Rachel. Rachel, who had been so strong and wise when she had found out that she was pregnant with Charlie. Rachel, with her slightly skewed moral compass, who would not judge her for having sex with Adam Denver. So Diana had set out down towards the lake. She suspected that Rachel might be feeling lonely now that Liam had gone back to Thailand, so she had brought along a bottle of fizzy raspberry lemonade; not quite the bottle of rosé they used to share in the old days when they could giggle over boys, but it would be nice to sit drinking it with the windows open all the same.
She heard the splashing and laughter before she saw them; along the path, a line of trees blocked the view of the lake’s edge, but immediately she sensed she wasn’t going to like what was waiting down there. Careful not to be seen, she crept forward, ducking so that she could see between gaps in the branches. Her heart lurched as she saw Adam, that familiar bare chest, those same muscles that had strained and twisted above her. He waded to the edge of the lake, naked save for a pair of dripping, clinging boxers. And then Rachel walked into view, squeezing the water from her hair, also practically undressed. It was as if Diana were watching it on television, but she couldn’t turn it off, could not tear her eyes away as Adam splashed over to her sister, his hand reaching for Rachel just as he had done to her that night in New York.
That was when she ran, sprinting up the path towards the house, desperate to get as far away from both of them as she could. As she passed a clump of trees, she startled a group of birds – crows, starlings, she didn’t have time to see which as th
ey exploded into the sky, their wings dark, their cries menacing. She threw an arm up to protect herself, tears rolling down her face now, her only thought to get to the safety of the house. She burst inside, pushing past Mrs Bills on the stairs, and closed her bedroom door behind her, falling on to the bed, her mind full of questions.
How long had it been going on? Why hadn’t she seen it before? Was this the first time, or had it been happening under her nose for weeks? Had he fucked her before their own night together in New York? Was this just a game of conquest for Adam – just like his brother? And what did it mean for the baby? Her fantasies of handsome, caring Uncle Adam bouncing his secret child on his knee, then sneaking into Diana’s bed at night, had all dissolved the moment she had seen him reach for Rachel. Or was it all her sister? Was this revenge? Spite? Did Rachel secretly hate her? Was her investigation just an elaborate way to ingratiate herself with Adam and prove that she’d been right about Julian all along?
‘Come on, breathe,’ Diana whispered to herself, slowly clawing back some control. She sat up and rubbed her face. Don’t let them win, she told herself fiercely. She walked over to the window, looking down towards the Lake House. Were they lying together right now? But to her surprise, she saw Adam’s car appear, climbing up from the lake and out along Somerfold’s drive to the main road. It was then she had run for the toilet.
What now? she wondered, walking unsteadily from the bathroom. What could she do? Tell Adam about the baby, force him into taking responsibility? Clearly it wasn’t something he wanted – he’d already moved on. ‘To my bloody sister!’ she hissed out loud.
She snatched up her phone from the bedside table. She wanted – no, needed – to talk it through with someone. But who was there she could call? She didn’t really have friends like that. There was Patty Reynolds, but she had also been Julian’s friend – how would she react to the news that Diana was pregnant with Adam’s child? Unable to settle, Diana paced the room. God, what a mess, what am I going to do?