Summer Season on the Seafront

‘Secretly peer in the windows?’ finished Lottie.

‘Maybe.’

Lottie grinned. ‘Definitely.’

***

Rehearsals got underway and Sarah, frustrated that the lines just wouldn’t stay in her head, read them again from her book. ‘“I might call him A thing divine, for nothing natural I ever saw so noble.”’

‘No, dear,’ said Gregory kindly. ‘You sound like you’re on the intercom in the supermarket. “Clean up in aisle five”,’ he mimicked, holding his nose. ‘You need to emote. What’s wrong? You played Jasmine so well in the pantomime. I know you can do this.’

He was right. For some reason she was struggling with the part of Miranda, especially the bits where Miranda fell in love. The idea that it was something to do with Vince, her ex, or her general single status, kept flitting around at the back of her mind but she ignored it and ploughed on. She found it much easier to sing. She’d joined the Greenley Players last year by showing off her singing. It had been hard overcoming her vomit-inducing stage fright, but she’d done it, showing them she had a pretty decent voice. Acting had been surprisingly fun in the panto but this was proving hard, hard work.

‘Och, leave her be,’ said Debbie, their local mad Scottish artist. ‘She’s doing a fine job.’ Sarah smiled at her just as Cecil checked his watch for the eighty-third time, clearly desperate to get back home and see their visitor. Then it was Luke’s turn. He was playing Caliban, and had been trying different voices and styles since the beginning of rehearsals. He began his lines, breathing heavily between each word as if he’d just legged it all the way to the theatre. But rather than having the dramatic effect he was hoping for, he was coming across as horribly asthmatic. Sarah stifled a giggle while Gregory bit his lip and looked at Conner, waiting for him to tackle this one.

‘Umm … Luke,’ Conner began nervously. ‘What, umm, what are you … doing?’ He ran a hand over his long, gelled black fringe.

‘Oh,’ Luke replied, colouring slightly. ‘I thought I’d try something different.’

Mrs Andrews was the first to say, in her usual undiplomatic way, what everyone else was thinking. ‘You sound like Darth Vader.’

‘With a cold,’ offered Gregory. ‘I’d try a different technique, dear.’

‘I thought you did it brilliantly before,’ said Conner. ‘Let’s stick with that.’

At least it was better than Luke’s first attempt, which had involved some sort of lisp and a lot of spit spray. Rehearsals eventually finished for the day with Sarah stumbling over one of her lines again as Mrs Andrews tutted. For some reason she just couldn’t get the hang of this damn play. Maybe it was because the Greenley Players had been going for over a year and they were expected to be good – she was expected to be good. There was so much more pressure this time around.

‘Sarah, darling, you really need to stop mumbling and fudging your lines,’ said Mrs Andrews, tottering in her heels down the staircase at the front of the stage. ‘You should enunciate, dear, like I do.’

‘Yes, I know,’ replied Sarah. It just wasn’t worth getting into right now. Not only was she too eager to sneak over to Gregory and Cecil’s cottage, but her body couldn’t seem to decide if it was recovering from her hangover or not. One minute she felt fine, the next nausea swept over her, making her throat close over. She just wanted to get out in the fresh air.

Everyone said goodbye and Sarah watched as Gregory and Cecil raced off mumbling something about extra shopping including champagne and scallops. But from what she’d read she couldn’t imagine Nathaniel Hardy would be that interested in eating fancy food. She wouldn’t be if she’d had an affair and been found out. Chance would be a fine thing, she mused. The closest she’d ever got to marriage was a drunken proposal from a pervy fiddle player old enough to be her dad when she was at a wedding in Ireland years and years ago. Unsurprisingly she’d said no. Her heart twinged at the memory of her dad and she focused instead on the last time she’d seen Nathaniel Hardy on TV being suave and sexy.

‘Ready?’ asked Lottie, slinging her bag on her shoulder.

Realising she had been staring into space, Sarah quickly gathered up her copy of The Tempest and various multi-coloured pens she used for making notes, shoved them into her handbag and smiled. ‘Let’s go.’ The excitement was bubbling up in her stomach – or the Alka Seltzer was getting to work – she wasn’t sure which.

‘Where are you two off to?’ asked Sid.

‘Nowhere that concerns you,’ replied Lottie playfully. ‘You go home and I’ll be back soon. You can peel the potatoes if you like. We’re just going for a walk.’ Sid shrugged, probably assuming it was girly stuff and nothing he’d be interested in anyway. ‘And here, you can lock up today.’ Lottie threw the keys and Sid caught them just before they skewered his right eye.

‘You’re trusting me with the sacred keys?’He gasped and Lottie scowled. She’d always been very protective of the theatre as it was her nan’s dying wish that she save it from being sold off. For the last year she’d fought hard to make that happen and amazingly, had succeeded.

As they left the theatre, walking in single file through the small revolving door, the sunshine was blinding. Squinting, Sarah reached into her bag for her sunglasses. The sounds of tinkling crockery and chattering voices escaped from the busy pubs along the seafront where people were enjoying their easy Sunday lunches. The town was more alive at this time of the day and Sarah took a deep breath trying to separate the different smells in her mind: beer, gravy, rich roast beef, and the tangy saltiness of the sea. Suddenly she was hungry. ‘I wish my stomach would decide what it’s doing. I’m not sure whether it wants me to fill it up or go nil by mouth.’

‘I think you should eat something,’ replied Lottie as they threaded their way through the pub tables that faced the promenade. ‘Are you coming for lunch? I’m doing a big roast today.’

That sounded good, just the thing to fix her. ‘Okay. Hey, are you going to tell Sid about Nate?’ She was surprised Lottie hadn’t said anything earlier.

‘I will when we get home. I don’t often get to know stuff he doesn’t, so I thought I’d tease him for a bit.’

They crossed the main road, past the tiny but surprisingly well-stocked library, and took a left down a side alley into the narrow twisting lanes of the conservation area. For about half a square mile the houses were either small simple fishermen’s cottages or larger Georgian houses with shuttered windows, black iron door knobs, and antique boot scrapers. Sarah loved walking through this part of town. In her mind’s eye she could see various Jane Austen heroes cleaning their boots before knocking at the door and entering to woo some fine lady. Sarah couldn’t afford to live in one of these houses, but Finn could, and did. She wondered if she’d see him today and the thought of that was almost more exciting than the prospect of catching a glimpse of Nate Hardy.

‘Keep an eye out for Gregory and Cecil,’ warned Sarah. ‘Just in case they went to the shop first and are already on their way back. They were talking about getting some champers and expensive shellfish.’ Scampering down another side street, Sarah began to sing the theme tune to Mission Impossible. Lottie joined in and as they approached the road where Gregory and Cecil lived. They pressed themselves into the wall before ducking down and glancing round the corner. In a final muffled burst of song, they flung themselves round the corner and collapsed into giggles. ‘Shhh,’ Sarah said, pressing her finger to her lips.

‘You shush,’ Lottie replied, still laughing. ‘You started it.’

Gregory and Cecil lived in the third cottage along. The houses in this part of town didn’t have front gardens, the front door opening straight onto the street. From many a drunken dinner party, Sarah knew that the sitting room was at the front of the house with large sash windows that faced the road. Sarah hoped Nate was in there watching telly rather than in the kitchen which was at the back of the house. ‘Let’s take a slow walk past and see if we spot him,’ she said, gently pulling Lottie’s arm to bring her level. They strolled as slowly as possible past the window. Sarah peered from the corner of her eye, but a frilly net curtain blocked her view. ‘Pants. I can’t see anything. Can you?’

‘No. Damn their old lady net curtains.’

A man walked past, eyeing them suspiciously and Sarah pretended to be searching for something in her handbag. It was definitely excitement filling her stomach with bubbles now. The adrenaline was surging through her whole body making her feel jittery and giggly. ‘It’s no good,’ Lottie continued. ‘We’re going to have to get closer, right up to the window. Go on, you first.’

‘Why me?’ asked Sarah, her eyes wide.

‘This was your idea.’

‘But you’re smaller than me. You should do it.’

‘Don’t be heightist. Anyway, I’m not going on my own. Come on.’ Lottie grabbed Sarah’s arm and she had to push down the laughter filling her lungs, threatening to ruin their plan. ‘We’re the worst spies ever,’ whispered Lottie and Sarah spluttered as the laughter forced its way out again. MI5 certainly wouldn’t be recruiting them any time soon.

They came level with Gregory and Cecil’s house again and bent down before edging towards the window. Sarah placed her fingertips on the sill and slowly lifted her head just high enough to see. Her heart gave a double beat as there, in real life, was Nate Hardy, lying out on the sofa in jeans and a T-shirt, his hands behind his head, eyes closed. He was just as handsome in person – or at least through their friends’ window – as he was on-screen. Sarah’s mind wandered, picturing what it would be like to wake up, roll over and see that face every morning. He had long dark eyelashes and a manly, rugged sexiness. A hint of toned abs peeked out where his T-shirt rode up. ‘He’s absolutely bloody gorgeous, isn’t he?’ she whispered to Lottie.

‘He really is. I wish I had my long lens camera.’

‘Pervert,’ Sarah replied, and they giggled again.

A male voice that Sarah instantly recognised broke into the moment. ‘And what do you two think you’re doing?’ asked Gregory. A shiver of shock ran down her spine. Both Sarah and Lottie looked over to see Gregory glowering at them and Cecil giving them stern looks while holding two shopping bags.

‘Run!’ Sarah shouted. And like a couple of kids caught stealing sweets, they legged it down the street and around the corner, only pausing when the laughter caused a sharp stitch to pierce Sarah’s side.

Chapter 4

Nate’s eyes shot open as a loud voice outside shouted something, but he didn’t hear exactly what. He stood up and the fat ginger cat leapt off his lap. Nate rubbed his jaw, feeling the stubbly skin beneath his fingers. It always amazed him that women seemed to like his face, he never had. His cheeks were quite square, coming down into a strong chin. As he aged, his dark hair was receding, the hairline gradually moving backwards, though the papers hadn’t picked up on that yet. Luckily, he didn’t care about ageing. He wasn’t worried about crow’s feet or the deep-set wrinkles that were forming on his forehead. Nate had always made it a habit to not Google himself, having been told by Robin it wasn’t a good idea. It was advice he’d taken. He certainly wasn’t going to start doing it now with everything else that was going on. God only knew what they were saying about him. Gritty eyes burned with tiredness, and today Nate Hardy felt much older than his years.

Every alcove in the small, cosy living room was packed with row upon row of books, or photos of his two hosts together. With the low hum of the television in the background the place felt serene. He’d been watching an interior design programme and was sure he’d met the host on some morning chat show once. The front door opened and he heard the two men he was staying with muttering, and carrier bags rustling. Last night they’d been kindness itself if a little star struck, but he was used to that. They must have been in bed when Robin called because when Nate arrived they were in matching striped pyjamas and fluffy navy dressing gowns. He hadn’t known what to expect from Robin’s description but when they welcomed him in, holding out a cup of tea, it was a strange moment of peace among the chaos of the night.

On the drive down he’d gone over and over things in his head, replaying the scene at the theatre, the faces of his colleagues, the mixture of shock and glee in the audience. Just as he thought his heart was broken and trashed beyond all feeling, Hannah had smashed it even more, taking his pain to a new level. He really needed to call the stage manager and say thank you for handling it so well. If she hadn’t taken charge, he didn’t know what he’d have done.

After his hosts had settled him in and shown him up to his room with kind, gentle words, he’d slept surprisingly well, exhaustion taking over. This morning he’d enjoyed looking out over the sea when he’d woken up. For a moment it had been like he was on location somewhere, but within seconds the realisation of what was actually happening hit him like a smack in the face and any rest had fled his body, leaving him aching and weary. After getting dressed and using the spare toothbrush laid out for him, Nate had come downstairs. He’d definitely fallen on his feet with these people and he must thank them properly when this was all over. If it ended well, that was. If it didn’t, he might not have any money to thank them with.

One of the guys poked his head around the living-room door. ‘Good morning, Mr Hardy. I’m just making tea if you wanted one?’

‘Yes, please, that’d be great. It was Geoffrey, wasn’t it?’ He followed him through into a large, bright and airy kitchen.

‘It’s Gregory actually,’ he corrected, and Nate felt a flush of embarrassment. ‘Come on, Mr Bennett,’ Gregory said cheerfully to the cat.

‘Right, sorry.’ Nate ran his hand through his hair and smoothed it back down, admonishing himself for not getting the name right. The man had taken him in at a moment’s notice. It was the least he could do and the height of bad manners to have got it wrong.

‘No problem, dear boy. I’m sure with everything else that was going on last night, your poor brain was a whirl. And this is Cecil.’

Nate laughed self-consciously and gave Cecil a small smile to show he’d registered his name. ‘Yes, it was all a bit … unexpected, but please call me Nate.’ The French doors were open onto a small courtyard garden filled with plants in brightly coloured pots, all flowering and falling into each other in a strange organised chaos. A small wrought-iron table had been laid with a milk jug, sugar and a biscuit barrel in the shape of a pig. Gregory and Cecil went out to the table and sat down facing each other, leaving Nate to sit between them. He followed and absent-mindedly tapped the side of the tea cup set out for him, wondering how much they knew and how much to tell them. He didn’t want people to think he was a creep, cheating on his wife, but he had an agreement with Emma he didn’t want to break. No one else was to know his marriage was already a wreck. He really needed to speak to her. What had happened last night had changed everything. Maybe once he’d had his tea, he’d call her and talk things through. If she’d answer, that was.

‘Tea?’ asked Cecil, his kind, bright blue eyes twinkling in his tanned face. He’d either been out in the hot summer sun that had stifled the country these last few weeks, or he had a bottle of instant bronzer in the bathroom. Nate made a mental note to check.

‘Yes, please.’

‘It’s just English breakfast tea. Nothing fancy.’

‘That’s the best kind,’ said Nate. He much preferred a good cup of tea to coffee.

‘Help yourself to milk and sugar.’

Mr Bennett strolled lazily out into the garden, flopping down in the sunniest spot, and a strange silence descended. Not uncomfortable, but not easy either. After adding milk to his tea, Nate clasped his hands together in his lap, feeling awkward. Gregory pushed the cheerful porcelain pig towards him. ‘Biscuit?’

‘No, thank you.’

The two men glanced at each other, clearly unsure what to say next. Nate cleared his throat before speaking. ‘I’m very grateful to you both for taking me in at such short notice. Hopefully I won’t be here very long.’

Cecil sat backwards. ‘I see,’ he said after a moment’s pause and Nate realised how ungrateful and rude that had sounded. He hadn’t meant it as an insult; the cottage was beautiful and the town, from what he had seen last night, seemed sweet and quiet. This was not going well. ‘I didn’t mean that rudely,’ he reassured them. ‘I just meant that hopefully I won’t be under your feet for too long. I really am very grateful for your help.’ Cecil relaxed back into his chair and Gregory smiled at Nate.

After a sip of tea, Nate tried a little harder at starting a conservation. ‘You have a beautiful house.’

‘Thank you, dear boy,’ Gregory replied, clearly warmed by the compliment. ‘We moved down here years ago. I used to be on the West End, but when my time was up, we decided to come down and start our little bookshop.’

‘Is that how you know Robin?’

‘Yes, we were around at the same time. We’d often go for the same roles, though he was far better than me, which is why I decided to give up and hideaway down here, but when his career started to wane, as happens ninety-nine times out of a hundred, he stayed and became an amazingly well-known agent. How do you like him?’

‘He’s great,’ Nate said without hesitation. He trusted Robin implicitly and had been with him since the very early days of his career, when the only roles he got were bit parts in Midsomer Murders or three lines on Casualty. If anyone could get him out of this scrape it was Robin. ‘Did you ever act together? You and Robin?’

Gregory nodded as he drank some more tea. ‘A few times. I hate to remember it though, he put me to shame. He really was a very fine actor in his day. I was nearly always relegated to the chorus if we went for the same role. Still, I wouldn’t change it for anything. I had a blast and to end up here, with Cecil, well, I couldn’t be happier.’ He reached out his hand and Cecil gave it a squeeze before returning to their respective cups.

Nate found himself smiling as he listened to Gregory talk of the stage. He hated that he would miss the last few performances of Of Mice and Men. It was odd that no matter how tired you became towards the end of a run, you still craved that thrill of stepping out onto the stage. When doing TV Nate missed the stage, and when on the stage he missed doing TV. Silly, really. The thought of losing both struck him again.

‘Have you spoken to Robin today?’ asked Gregory.

It was the first time they’d referred to what was going on and Nate felt himself stiffen defensively. He drew his arms in closer to his body as if to guard himself, and the muscles of his back tightened. But then he reminded himself that these men were Robin’s trusted friends and not reporters. Robin wouldn’t have suggested Nate stay with them if there was any risk they’d run to the papers. Nate caught them exchanging glances again at his silence, and felt guilty for being so suspicious. ‘No, I haven’t,’ he replied eventually. ‘I might give him a call when we’ve finished here and just see what’s happening. I’m sure it’s all over the papers now, but I daren’t look.’

‘No, dear, I wouldn’t if I were you,’ said Cecil. Nate looked up, expecting to see a gleeful face. It was what he’d come to expect from Emma and from critics, even fans sometimes. Everyone felt they had a right to judge you when you were in the public eye. But Nate was surprised to see a sympathetic, almost reassuring smile.

‘This will all pass, dear boy,’ Gregory said, pulling out a biscuit from the porcelain pig. ‘If you can be sure of anything, it’s that the press will soon find something else to write about and this will be old news.’

Nate’s voice was small and shaky, and he cleared his throat again. ‘I’m sure you’re right.’

‘Don’t tell him that, Nathaniel,’ replied Cecil, smiling. ‘He’ll only get big-headed.’

‘I am always right, though.’ Gregory grinned, and as they bickered playfully, Nate excused himself from the table and made his way upstairs to the cosy quiet bedroom to call Robin.

On the ninth attempt he finally got through. ‘Robin, it’s Nate. What’s happening, mate?’

‘“Good morning, Robin”,’ his agent said, pretending to be affronted at the lack of civility. ‘“I realise you’ve been working for hours and hours, most of the night in fact, trying to clean up my shit-show of a life, but I thought I’d check in and see how you are.”’

Somehow managing to find a trace of his sense of humour, Nate smiled. ‘I should really. You’re not as young as you used to be.’

‘That’s enough of that.’

‘But I do appreciate everything you’re doing, Robin. You know that, right?’

The fondness in Robin’s voice was evident. ‘I do. How are you, Nate? Have Greg and Cecil settled you in?’ Robin made it sound like this was a hotel, or some kind of wellness retreat for his own good and Nate felt a flare of frustration at the mess he’d created and all the extra work he’d caused Robin. Nate didn’t have time to be settled in here, he needed this all sorted so he could get back to London and get his career back on track. He took a deep breath, knowing it was tiredness and stress making him lose control of his emotions.

‘They’re very nice but I really need to know what’s happening there. What’s going on with Hannah? Is she gone? And have you talked to Emma yet? She’s—’

‘Wow, slow down, slow down.’ Nate drew back the net curtain and watched the sea shimmer in the light before rubbing his hot eyes with the heel of his hand. ‘We’re in a difficult situation with her. She’s threatening to sell her story to the tabloids. Hot News are offering a lot of money for it, but I’m in discussions with her agent.’

‘I thought that you paid her before and it was understood that she’d forget about it?’ Hearing himself say the words made him feel dirty and a complete scumbag. If only he could wind the clock back and stop himself from making such a stupid mistake.

‘We didn’t have a contract drawn up and signed, Nate. It was just an understanding. Normally that’s enough.’

A lump formed in Nate’s throat and he had to work hard to get the words out. ‘So what do we do now?’

‘I’m negotiating another payment to her. Her agent will make it clear she really has to let this go now.’

‘Do you think she will?’ He could hear Robin’s polished brogues tapping on the floor as he paced.

‘Yes, I think so. We don’t want to get all legal and make this more complicated than it needs to be. If the press were to pick up on something like that it’d look even worse for you. Has she made contact with you?’

‘What? Called?’

‘Yeah.’

‘No. Nothing yet.’ He rubbed his eyes again as the bright sun made them sting.

‘If she does, don’t answer her. She could record it and go straight to the press.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes.’

‘Okay.’ Nate nodded to himself. As horrid as it was to believe, Robin was right. ‘Robin, tell me honestly, how bad is this looking?’

‘Look, Nate, I know this feels like the end of your career and it is a blip, I won’t lie. It’s a big one. But you’re not the first man to have done this and you won’t be the last. It will all die down soon enough, and we’ll try and repair the damage. You haven’t Googled yourself, have you?’

‘No.’

‘Good. Don’t. Things will get nastier before they get better.’

‘Just give me the rundown.’ He had to know how the world was seeing him. How his fans were seeing him. It wasn’t vanity, it was that, stupidly, their opinion mattered to him. These people he didn’t know had sent him nice messages on his birthday. They hadn’t known that he’d been alone because Emma was out shagging her lover. Their messages had made him feel less lonely. He knew his actions had disappointed them. He’d let them down and he desperately wanted to say sorry, but he couldn’t.

Robin went on, ‘The papers are portraying you as a complete dick for cheating on your wife, who’s now the nation’s sweetheart by default. That’s no surprise and we’re sending out a press release just asking for privacy while you deal with recent events. We’re not saying you did or didn’t do anything at this stage. Then there’s outrage from those who were hoping to see you in the last few shows. Twitter’s gone mental, so turn off your notifications, and you’re now a meme thanks to some recording people took on their mobile phones.’

Nate sat down on the side of the bed, his shoulders slumped.

‘It’s all to be expected though, and within a week this will have calmed down if we keep up with the illness story and you and Emma show a united front. We’ll have to do some good PR and you and Emma are going to have to put off your divorce for a bit—’

‘Oh, she’ll love that.’ She’d hate him even more now, if that was possible.

‘It can’t be helped. An amicable divorce is far more acceptable to the public than something like this. A few public appearances together and then in six to eight months’ time you can divorce as planned.’ Nate smiled to himself at how Robin had it all figured out. It was why he was one of the best. ‘A couple of casting directors have politely withdrawn the offers of roles, but I don’t think you were going to do them anyway, so never mind that.’

‘Which ones?’ Nate asked, feeling a stone settle in his stomach and his intestines wrap around it.

‘It doesn’t matter.’ The fact that Robin didn’t want to tell him was worrying. ‘There’ll be more though, so be prepared.’

‘Have you spoken to Emma again?’ Nate asked cautiously. Though Emma didn’t love him and hadn’t for a while, his heart still ached. They’d been together for so long. A part of him still cared for her and wanted her to be okay. Robin didn’t answer. ‘Have you?’

‘Sort of.’

‘Sort of?’

‘I’ve made sure she’s okay, but I think you should talk to her about the plan to put off the divorce. It isn’t my place to go into that sort of thing.’

A wry smile pulled at Nate’s mouth. ‘You mean you’re scared of Emma blowing her top?’

‘Terrified.’

‘Don’t worry, I’ll call her in a minute.’ Nate sighed.

‘Good luck,’ Robin replied. ‘Let me know what she says, especially if it changes things. I’ve got to get back to Hannah’s agent. She wants quite a lot of money this time. But, Nate, this will all be okay in the end, okay? Just give it time.’

‘All right. But I’ll pay anything, Robin. I just need this to end for mine and Emma’s sakes.’

‘I don’t know why you’re worrying about her after the way she’s treated you, but I’ll do my best. It’s all I can do.

‘I know, and I appreciate it. Truly.’

‘Just chill out there and stay out of sight. We don’t want the papers getting wind of where you are. Okay? Oh, and some clothes will be delivered to you shortly. I’ve sent them via courier.’

‘Okay, I’ll speak to you later.’ As the call ended Nate realised he was shaking. His hands trembled and his head pounded as he pressed the button to call Emma. It rang a few times before she answered. When she finally spoke, her voice was cold and harsh.

‘You’ve got a bloody cheek ringing me.’

‘Emma, look, I’m really sorry for all of it, but we need to discuss how we’re going to get through this. I’ve been speaking to Robin and he suggests we put off the divorce—’

‘What? For God’s sake, Nate, really? You know how serious things are between me and Stewart now.’ Christ, she was selfish sometimes. And cold. She’d always had an ice queen quality about her that, in the beginning, he’d found attractive. Her cool good looks – pale skin, blue eyes and light blonde hair – had set her apart from all the other girls. But as time had gone on, the coolness had become an impenetrable coldness freezing him out of her life. At first, she’d been happy to stay with him as he was getting more famous, hoping there’d be a knock-on to her career. But then she’d become jealous, jealousy had turned to anger, and anger had turned into affairs. Since things had got serious with her latest fling, divorce was suddenly on the cards. ‘Why shouldn’t I just do it now?’ she asked spitefully. ‘The world’s on my side remember, Nate. Every woman in the country is going to sympathise with me. Do you know how humiliating this is for me? A glamour model. I mean, how corny can you get? Every little detail of your sordid affair is going to come out if we’re not careful. Do you realise you’re dragging our name through the mud?’

Nate felt the heat of shame rise up his spine. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said again. ‘But I think we can come out of this with some dignity though if we do what Robin says. He’s concerned that if we split now and the press go digging, they’ll find out …’ He searched for the right words, not wanting to openly mention her affairs and settled on ‘more’. Nate lowered his head, placing his thumb and index finger on his temples. Applying some gentle pressure, he tried to ignore the pounding at the back of his eyes. ‘I made a mistake, Emma, just like you did.’ He didn’t want to remind her that she’d begged him not to end their marriage when he’d discovered her first affair. The memory still stung. She’d asked him to keep it quiet, and he’d agreed to turn a blind eye for months now. ‘Please? All I’m asking for is a little … understanding.’ She scoffed. Emma loved to throw salt onto the wound and he was fed up of being a doormat, all for the sake of public image. ‘Listen, Robin is trying to speak to Hannah’s agent, offering her some money to keep this private. He thinks we should put off the divorce for another six to eight months and let this die down—’