Silent Scream

Thirty-Nine

‘What did they want?’ Nina Croft asked, placing her briefcase down in the hallway.

‘They were asking about Crestwood,’ Richard answered, as he followed his wife into the kitchen. After fifteen years together there were two things about her that never failed to amaze him.

The first was that she still looked as fantastic as she had the day they’d met. He had fallen head over heels in love with her and unfortunately for him, that had not changed since.

The second was that the icy remoteness had not left her eyes for seven years.

Nina stopped at the floating island in the middle of the vast kitchen. He stood on the other side. She faced him through the Le Creuset kitchenware that had never been used.

‘What did you tell them?’ she demanded.

Richard lowered his eyes. Seven years ago, after the birth of his second son, he had been in the throes of euphoria. Watching his beautiful wife give birth had provoked in him such fierce protection and love he had thought the bond with his wife had been unbreakable. He had felt he could trust her with anything.

Two days later, after settling Harrison into his cot, Richard had felt close enough to his wife to reveal the secrets held at Crestwood. They had not shared a bed again.

There had been no anger, no recriminations and no threat of turning him in. A freezing fog had fallen between them and it had not lifted since.

‘What did they ask?’

He recounted the conversation word for word. She showed no emotion at all until the final couple of questions. Only then did a muscle jump in her cheek. When he’d finished he felt a bead of sweat forming beneath his hairline as he waited for her response.

‘Richard, I told you years ago that I would not tolerate your past mistakes affecting my life or the lives of my children.’

‘Was that the night you left my bed forever, sweetheart?’

Every now and again the barely tolerant tone of her voice was like a kick to the stomach and sometimes his backbone put in a surprise appearance.

‘Yes, my love, any attraction I felt died after your night-time confession. It would have been scandalous enough that an enquiry into Crestwood would have revealed your inability to keep your hands out of the facility's pockets.’ She raised her eyes to the ceiling as though speaking to Harrison. ‘To take money that was meant for those girls was reprehensible, my love,’ she said icily, ‘but what you did to cover it up. Well ... quite honestly, words defy me.’

Once more he damned his total honesty to her that night. Yes, he had taken a little extra salary for himself. He had deserved it and the girls hadn't missed it. Their basic needs had been covered at all times.

The disgust in the face of his wife found its way to a heart that refused to let her go. Croft’s immediate reaction was to strike back. To hurt her in a way that would provoke any measure of feeling.

He tipped his head and smiled. ‘Well, at least I have someone prepared to offer me love, even if my wife will not.’

Richard held his breath. Any reaction that contained real emotion would be welcome. Anything that would indicate the remnants of what they once had.

She laughed out loud. It was not a sound born of joy or happiness. ‘You mean Marta?’

This was not the reaction he’d expected. A sly smile was creeping across her face.

The room started to close in on him. ‘You ... you know about Marta?’

‘Know about it, my sweet ...? I pay very handsomely for it.’

Richard stepped back as though she had slapped him. She was lying. She had to be.

‘Oh Richard, you ridiculous old fool. Marta has a large family back in Bulgaria that she supports with this job. Her annual salary ensures that they eat. Her erm ... overtime sends both her brothers to school, so if she seems eager to have sex with you it’s because she gets paid by the hour. And I am happy to pay, because she deserves every single penny.’

Richard could feel the colour infusing his face as the ugly truth registered. Earlier today Marta had been quite insistent.

‘You cold-hearted bitch.’

Nina ignored the insult and turned to the coffee machine. ‘I’ve told you before that I will not have even the hint of scandal attached to my name. I have worked very hard to achieve the life that I live and because of your public standing in the community I don’t mind having you along as a passenger. As long as you travel silently.’

Richard felt the disgust at his life wash over him. His only use to his wife was the vicarious kudos of his standing as a member of parliament; a career which gave her an element of respectability that counter-balanced her unsavoury clientele.

‘Don’t look so shocked, my dear. It is an arrangement that has worked well and should continue to do so.’

His skin crawled at the thought of sharing a bed with Marta after what he had learned. At times, Richard had felt they had a genuine connection and yet he had been nothing more than a salary enhancement.

‘But why Marta?’ he asked, still stunned from her admission.

‘My image is everything and I will not allow you to tarnish it. You are a man and you have certain needs but I would never tolerate you screwing some diseased whore out on the streets and putting my children in danger.’

He watched as Nina took out her mobile phone. ‘Now, run along like a good boy while I continue to clean up your mess.’

Richard stood on the cusp of a decision. His hands were clenched at his sides. He could turn and walk away, out of this house, away from Nina’s coldness and control.

He could go straight to the police and release the burden inside him. He could be free of this woman and the life he led.

He considered his meagre MP’s salary of £65,000. Even creative accounting with his expenses left daylight between him and a six-figure income. His monthly pay barely covered the house utility bills. The salary of his wife paid for the mortgage, the cars and the £5,000 pocket money that landed in his account on the first of each month.

Richard’s clenched hands fell to his sides. He turned and walked into the study, carrying his balls on a nine-carat-gold dinner plate.

Only when the door was closed behind him did he wipe at the bead of sweat behind his ear. His last remaining sliver of pride had prevented him doing so in front of his wife.

Teresa and Tom were dead and Arthur on his way. Richard wanted to believe that the deaths were coincidental. He had to believe it ... because not believing it could only mean one thing; that he was probably next.