A New Dream by Maggie Ford (world of reading .TXT) 📕

verge of being concluded I had a letter from the solicitor yesterday. It’s taken me until this morning to come and tell you about it – about you and me.’

Julia’s heart raced. Was he asking her to marry him?

Conflicting thoughts were winging through her head, all mixed up. Now it came to it, did she want to finish with Simon and marry Chester?

If she refused the offer she was sure she was about to hear, she could be losing her chance of exciting love. Yet that night with Simon after Ginny’s wedding had been every bit as exciting as any time with Chester. Of course though, they might lapse back into their old comfy situation. Did she want that?

And what of Simon, how would he feel when she told him what had been going on with Chester? He loved her in his way and as she visualized his face when she told him… no, she couldn’t do that to him. But here was Chester…

She could hear him talking as if from a distance and forced her mind back to him.

‘You see, darling,’ he was saying. He was calling her darling. He had never done that before even at the height of their love making.

‘It’s like this. The moment I got the solicitor’s letter I went straight round to see Helen, my wife, and we had a long talk. She told me she had broken up several weeks ago with the man she’d been seeing and asked me if I could ever forgive her. She looked so sad and I realized I still love her. I don’t know how to say this but we’ve both decided to try and make another go of it. I’ve got to pick her up in a few moments and we’re going to see our solicitors to sort things out.’

For a moment Julia’s mind went blank and it took her a second or two to gather up the threads of what she’d been hearing. Then the meaning of his words crashed into her brain with such a force that she drew in her breath in one huge gasp, to release it in a sobbing, trembling shriek.

‘You bastard!’ She had never used a word like that in her life. ‘You disgusting, evil bastard, you knew all along. You were just using me until…’

She broke off and began beating both fists against his shoulder and head, blind to passers-by on the pavement, who had been stopped in their tracks by her shrieks.

He held both her fists, pulled her to him. ‘I didn’t know, Julia. Please believe me, I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.’ His lips were against her cheek. ‘I do still love you, Julia,’ he was saying. ‘I always will.’

In fury she pulled her face away but in the next second had pressed her lips to his. There was no response. She was making a fool of herself. With an effort she fought to control the uncharacteristic outburst that had so suddenly taken hold of her and fell back in her seat, suddenly coming to her senses, knowing she was humiliating herself. She wasn’t prepared to let that happen.

She became aware that people were pausing, staring into the car for a brief moment before moving on, embarrassed. But one person still stood looking at her.

In a panic she clambered out of the car but Simon was already walking away. She wanted to run after him but all she could do was stand transfixed by horror. Behind her Chester’s car revved up and drew away.

A whole week had passed. Simon hadn’t said a word about the incident and it was torturing her. Every time she tried to make an effort to explain he would change the subject to some matter to do with business, or walk away. He hadn’t resorted to sleeping apart from her but that made the situation even worse.

Tonight, as they had every other night since that awful day, they lay side by side, staring up at the ceiling, not speaking. He finally turned over and she did too, their backs to each other. Sleep refused to come and she knew it was the same for him; she was aware of him fidgeting from time to time, his breathing irregular. He even got up at one point and went into the other room, only to return to lie down beside her again.

She knew he was hurting, as she was, but for different reasons – he seeing himself as having been made a fool of, she screwed up with misery as the guilty party – and there was nothing she could do. It was a waste of time trying to speak to him in the quietness of the night but now she tried again.

‘Simon?’

‘Go to sleep!’ His voice was muffled yet sharp.

But she had to say something. ‘If only we’d been married…’ She hadn’t intended to say that. The words had come out all on their own.

To her intense relief they produced a reaction, even if it was tortured and sour. ‘Would marriage have made any difference?’

Words now came tumbling out. ‘I wanted so much for us to marry. I suppose I was caught at a low point. You were content for things to stay as they were, interested it seemed only in making more and more money. Sometimes it was as if you didn’t care about me any more, other than us being partners and making a success of the business. We hardly made love at all as time went on and sometimes I felt love didn’t matter to you any more.’

As if he’d hardly been listening, he broke in sharply. ‘Who is he?’

Crushed, she could only reply, ‘I knew him a long time ago – before I ever met you. We were to be engaged. But his people saw my family’s downfall as complete humiliation and put a stop to the engagement.’

She started to relate the story of how she’d had to keep her family going, though Simon already knew all that, didn’t