Lynda La Plante: Twisted

Lena had begun to really see the benefits of her new business, and financially she felt more secure than she had been when Marcus departed. It took a while for her to begin to enjoy having extra cash to spend on new clothes for herself and Amy, but they had done some serious damage on a couple of trips to Chelsea on Saturday shopping extravaganzas. Working hard for so many years she had rarely if ever spent time on herself or her appearance until recently. It was very obviously successful, as the remarks from everyone that evening proved.

A meeting with Marcus had been arranged for Monday morning to discuss their divorce proceedings. Only once had Lena asked her daughter if Marcus was living in the rented flat alone, or if he was with someone, but Amy had been dismissive, saying that she had never met anyone, or seen anyone with her father. She did later mention that she thought someone else had been staying as there had been makeup left in his bathroom, but her father had said that it belonged to a friend of the guy he was renting the flat from.

Lena never for a moment thought Amy was being evasive, and in some ways she was relieved that there was no new figure in either of their lives. She in fact congratulated herself that, unlike many of their friends, they had succeeded in separating without too much emotional trauma. Amy did appear to have totally accepted the arrangements, and showed no outward signs that she was in any way distressed they no longer all lived together. The family home ran smoothly; the gardeners came and tended the garden every Thursday, the housekeeper came in every day at nine and left at five and always had the weekends off. Lena’s driver, an ex-manager of a small repair garage, was diligent and polite and kept her Lexus immaculate. He also did a lot of maintenance work around the house, when not required to chauffeur Lena to her places of work. Sometimes he had worked weekends on the school collection when Marcus had called to say it was not convenient for him to pick up Amy, and even when Marcus had excused himself as being too busy to have Amy stay for her weekend, it had not caused any rifts. Lena was so organized, if arrangements were changed, she was able to quickly alter her diary. Basically, her entire life was taken up with work, and rarely if ever did she have any kind of life outside her day-to-day schedule. At weekends she would arrange something to do with Amy if she was available, and they would go to a local restaurant and take in a movie together. So her social life was built around her daughter, and her weekdays were concentrated on business. She had not sought any other social activities until this evening, even though she was feeling healthier and looking better than she had for years. She was aware that she would be subjected to prying questions about her separation and whether or not it was just a phase and she and Marcus would be getting back together. He was now to all intents and purposes a single man in his early forties, a very different dinner guest to his rather reclusive ex, who had never had been overeager to gossip, and had little to add to their banter.

Lena had been helped to get her life back on track by her therapist and was now on medication, but it had been many months before she was able face the fact that she needed to make some drastic personal changes. As the business ran smoothly she had begun to take more interest in her appearance. It had not been easy – diet and exercise had dominated what little free time she had – but she made sure to style her hair, and had regular massage sessions at a beauty clinic. She had even had numerous Botox treatments around her brow, eyes and lips. Amy being a weekly boarder at school had given her a lot more free time to focus on herself.

Amy had been due to spend the weekend with her father but had chosen to have a sleepover in Fulham with one of her best friends, Serena, a young girl that Lena did not particularly like, who had in the past stayed at their house in Richmond. As always there had been emails back and forth to verify that Amy would be collected from school by her friend’s parents and returned there on the Sunday evening.

Driving the short distance to her home from the Berkoffs’ gave Lena enough time to calm down. She turned in through the big wrought-iron gates, and didn’t bother going further down the private lane to the large double garage, but parked outside her front door, sitting for a while resting her hands on the steering wheel. Then she took a few deep breaths and slapped the wheel with the flat of her hands.

‘Now just stop this, Lena, you knew what it was going to be like this evening, and you know why you agreed to go, and whether you hated it or not it was proof that you have taken major steps forwards. When Marcus sees you he’ll want you back, that’s what this is about, now admit it, and stop being silly, you have accomplished everything you planned and worked so hard for. When you meet him on Monday he is going to get a big surprise.’

She snatched up her little white evening bag and stepped out of the car, slamming the door shut and locking it with a bleep. Everything was going to be all right, she would have all of Sunday to plan exactly what she would wear from her new wardrobe of elegant clothes. She immediately felt better and did a small sashay dance step to the front door, as the security lights came on like a floodlit stage, and she opened her little bag with a flourish to take out her house keys.

It was strange how quickly her mood changed. Suddenly she realized it was the first time since the separation that she had returned to what felt like a very empty house. Maybe she had previously been too busy to notice she was opening her front door to darkness, or perhaps it was the fact she had so rarely been out so late alone. Lena had forgotten to leave lights on in the hall and landing, so it felt even darker than usual. She dropped her handbag on a chair in the hall, switched on the lamps and made her way up to the first-floor landing and the master bedroom. She undressed, chucking her evening clothes onto a chair by her dressing table; she’d hang them up in the morning. She placed anything she wanted washed into the white laundry bags hanging on a knob of one of the long rows of wardrobe doors. Naked, she walked into her en-suite bathroom, cleaned her teeth and removed her makeup with cleansing cream.

Returning to the huge master bedroom she picked up her nightdress that had been left folded on her king-size four-poster. Getting into bed with just a small bedside light switched on, she drew the duvet around herself and reached for the TV remote. The big plasma screen lit up as she nestled down, flicking from channel to channel, but nothing appealed. She switched to a re-run of Law & Order but had already seen it, so she turned off the TV and lay back on her huge pile of frilled white pillows. It was the first time she felt lonely. It was not that she wanted Marcus to be beside her, because she truthfully didn’t, it was more an overpowering feeling of being totally alone. She closed her eyes. There were all the staff she knew so well at all of her successful business ventures, and yet none of them had ever become in any way a friend; none had ever even been invited back to the house.

She left the bedside light on, because she didn’t feel sleepy – in fact, the opposite. Her mind was still buzzing, replaying the entire course of the dinner party: the many compliments she had received on her new slim self, her dress, her hair, even the many implications that she must have found someone to replace Marcus, although the truth was she had not even contemplated a new relationship. She had not even been looking to find a replacement, toy boy or not.

Knowing sleep was refusing to come, she reached up to her bedside cabinet for one of the various bottles of sleeping pills. She opened the top and inched out half of a tablet. She usually used them only when business deals had made her restless. She sipped from the bottle of water on her bedside table and swallowed the Ambien half, then replaced the small plastic container. She had got them years ago, when they had been in the US on a Disney World holiday, and she had been unable to sleep due to the time zone difference. Marcus had in actual fact got them for her. He was in her mind yet again, and now she thought about the meeting scheduled for ten on the Monday morning. He had suggested she find a divorce lawyer as he had felt it was time they confirmed that there was no possibility of them being reunited. She had agreed and engaged Charles Henshaw, a divorce solicitor, to represent her.