Marriage and Other Games by Veronica Henry Read Free Book Online Page A

into her eyes - tears of frustration that Ed couldn’t seem to grasp the simple truth.
     
    ‘You’re insane! I don’t know how you could have thought it would work, even for a moment.’
     
    ‘I spoke to the consultant. He suggested a change of scene, a change of lifestyle.’
     
    ‘He was clutching at straws, Ed. Just like you. And now where has it got us?’
     
    She stood up, trembling. She thought she was going to be sick. She felt cold and clammy and nauseous. ‘Well, thank God I didn’t have your children.’
     
    It was the harshest thing she could think of to say.
     
    Ed recoiled as if he had been slapped. The policeman stepped forward.
     
    ‘Mr Briggs? If you’re ready to come to the station now?’
     
    Charlotte sank back down onto the sofa as Ed was escorted from the room. She couldn’t look at him. She pressed her face into her palms, shutting out the world. Moments later the room was still, empty, and she felt very small inside it. There was nothing to do but wait.
     
     
    When Ed came back later that night, Charlotte was scrunched up in a ball on the bed, shivering like a kitten that had been left out in a thunderstorm. She had been beside herself all afternoon, but she hadn’t been able to think of a single soul she could call on for sympathy or advice. How on earth could she admit to any of her friends and family what Ed had done - though they would find out soon enough? So she had wandered the house in turmoil, her emotions veering from rage to despair to total bewilderment. She’d necked down half a bottle of red wine, in the hope that it might calm her down, but it only made her feel worse and made her already throbbing head pound. In the end, she threw herself on the bed and sobbed herself to sleep.
     
    Ed stood awkwardly in the doorway.
     
    ‘They’ve let me out on bail. But I’ve been charged with obtaining money by deception. God knows when the trial will be.’
     
    There was silence.
     
    ‘Charlotte?’
     
    She sat up suddenly.
     
    ‘Why didn’t you just take out a loan? Or extend the mortgage?’ she demanded. ‘Surely it would have been better to risk our own money? Better than stealing somebody else’s, at any rate.’
     
    Ed darted a nervous look at her. Charlotte swallowed.
     
    ‘Ed . . . ?’
     
    ‘I did. As well. I needed another fifty grand to make it worthwhile.’
     
    ‘What?’
     
    ‘We’d have walked away with half a million . . .’
     
    ‘You extended our mortgage?’
     
    ‘Yes.’
     
    ‘Shouldn’t I have signed the paperwork?’
     
    ‘You did.’
     
    ‘I’d remember borrowing that kind of money . . .’ She trailed off, remembering Ed coming in with some forms from the building society one Sunday morning when she was still sleeping off last night’s party. He’d said something about moving mortgages because they’d come to the end of their tie-in period. Something about getting a better deal. Of course she’d signed it. He dealt with all that sort of thing. And of course she hadn’t looked at the small print. She wouldn’t have suspected her own husband of trying to pull a fast one.
     
    She buried her head in the pillow. He sat on the bed next to her and put a hand on her back, stroking her gently.
     
    ‘I did it for you,’ he was saying, his voice soft and urgent. ‘I can’t bear it, watching you run yourself ragged. You throw yourself into your work to forget your unhappiness. And then you exhaust yourself. And then of course you don’t get . . .’
     
    He couldn’t even bring himself to say the word.
     
    ‘Pregnant!’ Charlotte looked up and shouted it at him. ‘No, I bloody don’t. And thank goodness. Lucky escape. God must have been on my side all this time. I don’t want a psycho-fraudster fathering my child.’
     
    ‘I wanted a big house in the country,’ he went on, ignoring her outburst. ‘Trees, and a pond, and a big kitchen, and a huge attic room to put train sets in. And a chocolate