Page 107 of A Night with Damien Spur

‘Shall I send Chang?’ Elizabeth said. ‘He can make sure you’re all right.’

Why should she send her servant? She should come herself. Tell that cold fish to go to hell, said the Voice.

Damien smiled at himself in the mirror.

‘Elizabeth, you icy bitch, go to hell.’

***

Damien opened his iPad and looked at the beginning of the screenplay. He scanned the words – but his mind was elsewhere.

He unlocked the drawer and took out Laura’s letters. So many he had read when they’d first wed. So much love.

And then her pain, when he’d slept with Anne, Miranda, Rosie…

And here amongst the fragments of unhappiness, the debris of their lives, was the last letter, unopened, dated 11 September. The one he couldn’t bear to read.

She had, in true Laura style, waited for a significant day to kill herself. A day that Damien would remember forever: their wedding anniversary.

Come on,the Voice said,it’s time to read the last chapter. All good thrillers must come to an end.

Damien slid a paper knife across the edge of the envelope and opened the neatly folded page.

I have started this letter again and again. It’s not easy for me to confess my deepest secret that no doubt will cause you pain. But maybe what I am going to say will in some way justify your dalliances. You have always said you loved my mind and indeed, if we were disembodied souls, I am sure that we would havelived and died together as faithful as swans. But you and I have ended in the trash heap. If only I had been honest, it might have been different. But you took all the blame and I feel so ashamed.

Damien paused.

Read on, the Voice said.

‘Okay, stop nagging me.’ Damien held the letter up to the light. ‘It’s hard to read. The ink has faded.’

But the truth is, Damien, you didn’t desireme– only my mind. I want a man to fire me, to free me of my thoughts. I wanted lust in the bedroom, not your worship.

There you go,the Voice said.Fragile little Laura just wanted a bit of the ol’ rumpy-pumpy.Ready for some more?

‘Wait a second.’ Damien went to the coat cupboard and took out the silver hip flask from his Barbour. ‘Might be a spot left.’ He unscrewed the top and gave it a shake. Not a drop.

Stop procrastinating. Get on with it,the Voice said.

‘Okay! Don’t hassle me. I’m not sure I want to know what’s coming next.’

Remember when you were in LA – “playing” – and I went to Skiathos to stay with my girlfriend Raliya? Well, one night we went to a taverna. That’s when I met Andreas. He was playing backgammon, tavli as the Greeks call it. He looked at me and smiled. A strong, handsome face, warm eyes. He asked me to sit and watch him play, and hewon.

‘You bring luck.’ He kissed his fingers and patted my cheek. Then we chatted a little. He spoke bad English and I spoke bad Greek. All the better not to try and make polite conversation.

After a couple of glasses of wine, I was caught.

I can see your shocked face in my mind’s eye, Damien. But it doesn’t mean that I didn’t love you. It’s just that Andreasflipped my switch.

He was a farmer. Salt of the earth. When we made love, he took me. Claimed my body. Set me alight. I lost my mind. I didn’t have to pretend, as I did with you.

I stayed with him for two months while you were away. I lied to you when I said that I had been offered a temporary position teaching history at the university in Athens.

I was pregnant, Damien. For two years we had tried and nothing happened. And yet with Andreas… fire and earth. The first night.

You just didn’t turn her on,the Voice said.No chemistry. Pray continue…

I was going to have an abortion, but when I arrived back home, you refused to come with me to therapy and then you left for America again and I went back to Andreas.

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