Cruel Venus by Susan Lewis

Author:Susan Lewis
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781409018292
Publisher: Random House

Chapter 10

IT WAS CHRISTMAS morning. The floor of Tessa’s flat was strewn with torn wrapping paper and breakfast dishes, while a carol service from St Matthew’s was chorusing cheerily out of the TV. The tree Bob had brought home a few nights ago was standing in the corner, its blinking lights reflecting in the shiny surfaces of the red and gold frosted balls. The mistletoe Tessa had bought was poised with romantic intent over the front door, while fake snow encrusted the corners of the windows giving them a cute, Christmas-cardish sort of look. It was all very festive, except for the faint smell of gas that was leaking from the fire in the hearth, though it was currently masked by the Estée Lauder perfume Tessa had found in a gift from Bob. The slim gold necklace that had accompanied it was back in its velvet pouch on the coffee table, waiting for a special occasion that Tessa would probably also have to pay for, but that was OK, she didn’t really mind. She’d given him a pair of Ralph Lauren cufflinks and a book on how to stop smoking. It should have been drinking, but she’d obviously picked up the wrong book, which had made them laugh when he’d opened it, quite an achievement for Bob, considering the pounding throb of his hangover.

Now the presents were open Tessa was in the kitchen, flicking through a cookbook to find out what to do with a turkey. Bob was lying on the sofa, still struggling with his hangover and trying to stop shaking. He hadn’t showered yet that morning, nor shaved, and the old pyjama bottoms and T-shirt he was wearing were in need of a wash. He’d do something about himself in a minute, but right now his head was hurting too much to move very far. Tessa, a regular little nurse, had brought him coffee and Alka Seltzer, and gently massaged his scalp, but despite her show of concern he knew she was worried that he’d spoil the day.

‘I’ve always hated Christmas,’ she’d told him last night. ‘But it’s going to be different with you. This year I’m going to love it.’

And he wanted her to, especially after the miscarriage she’d just suffered. He’d come home a few nights ago to find her tucked up in bed, eyes red from crying, and a terrible fear in her heart that he was going to be angry. It had upset him immensely to think she was afraid, though it had been a timely and alarming warning of just how violent his drunken tempers must be getting. Wanting only to comfort and reassure her, he’d slipped into bed with her and held her until they were crying together. Not until later, when she had fallen asleep in his arms, had he given any thought to the fact that he was now free to leave her. But at the time he had brushed it aside, not only because he couldn’t just up and

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