The Holiday Home Page 0,86

‘I didn’t ask her down. There is no urgent paperwork.’

‘Then why is she here?’

‘I don’t know!’ He looked up with horrified eyes.

‘You’re having an affair with her, aren’t you?’ Recognising a rhetorical question, Greg didn’t bother with an answer.

‘Aren’t you?’ thundered Henry.

Greg simply nodded his miserable head.

‘She’s not your first mistress, I take it?’

Greg looked away, his averted eyes speaking volumes.

‘You bastard!’ Henry’s voice was icy with contempt. ‘You’re an utter fool. How could you jeopardise the happiness of your wife, your daughter – not to mention risking your position in the company! What were you thinking?’

‘I’m sorry.’ Greg rubbed his eyes with the fingers of his good hand and started to weep. ‘I’m so … so … sorry.’

‘Sorry you did it, or sorry you were found out?’

‘I was going to end it after the holidays.’

‘Were you? And how would you be able to resist Janie in the office? Have her sacked? Bring in a younger, blonder model?’

‘Nooo,’ Greg wailed.

Henry stood up and went to the door.

Greg was scared. ‘What are you going to do?’

Henry looked at him contemptuously. ‘I’m going to make sure my granddaughter and my daughter are going to have the best party this house has ever seen. As for you, keep out of my way, keep your hands off Janie, and try to behave like a decent husband and father.’

Greg relaxed a little. ‘You’re not going to tell them?’

Henry could not conceal his disgust. ‘Thinking of your own skin as usual? You really are a complete shit. I will deal with you when I’ve had a chance to think about things. In the meantime, remember: I will be watching your every move.’

*

Greg avoided Janie for the rest of the afternoon and took to his bedroom in need of sanctuary. He couldn’t think straight. His mind kept going round and round in circles, like a dog chasing its tail, until he felt sick and giddy. Why was Janie here? How did Henry know? Would Henry tell Connie? What would Abi think? Where would he go? What would he do? And back to the beginning again.

He lay on the bed, curled up like a baby and wept. Some time later there was a tentative knock at the door. He lay rigid. Another pint of adrenalin squirted into his system, tensing his muscles in readiness to flee. He heard a man’s voice.

‘Greg? Are you awake? It’s Francis. Can I come in?’

Greg got to his feet and opened the door a crack to check that Francis was on his own. He was.

Francis took in the broken, red-eyed mess that was now sitting on the edge of the bed, sobbing.

‘Now, now, old man,’ said Francis, embarrassed. ‘Why did you ask her to come here?’

‘I didn’t,’ Greg howled. ‘She’s here uninvited. Make her go. Tell her I’m not well. Tell Connie I need her. Tell her I can’t come to the party. Tell her I’ve got a virus or something.’

Francis stood firm. ‘No one suspects a thing. Janie has gone down to the beach with Belinda to set up washing lines and fairy lights or something. Connie is supervising them.’

Greg groaned and flopped back into the foetal position.

‘You can get through tonight. Then tomorrow you’ll have to have a serious talk with Janie and finish it. That’ll be the end, and no one need be any the wiser.’

‘But you don’t understand,’ moaned Greg. ‘Henry knows about Janie. He’s going to tell Connie and that’ll be goodbye Greg. No family, no job, nothing.’

Francis pursed his lips and studied his hands. ‘Well, you should have thought about that before.’

‘I’ll never do it again. Ever. Connie must believe that. I can’t lose her.’ He wept louder.

‘She knows nothing – yet. But she will if you carry on like this. Look at you: crying like a baby! Grow up, Greg, and face the music. Show them you’re a man who has erred but who loves his family.’

Greg sat up, irked. ‘Like you, you mean? You pious little butter-wouldn’t-melt git! Bringing the buxom Belinda down here for you to ogle? You’ve got some nerve, telling me how to behave.’

Francis took a step nearer to Greg and without warning punched him hard on the nose. ‘Don’t you ever speak to me that way again. Now, get yourself up and in the shower. Have a shave and behave like a husband and father should!’

With that, Francis turned and slammed the door behind him.

Greg staggered to the bathroom and looked at his swollen nose. No blood, but the blow had