5

STAR

When I get out of the shower Nigel is waiting for me in the bedroom. I walk past him without looking at him and go to my wardrobe.

I open my underwear drawer. “Have you called him?” “No.”

“I’ve got to pick up Nan now. I’ll be back this afternoon. Please make that call by then.” “We need to talk,” he says.

I let my towel drop and pull on my panties. “No, we don’t.” “Our marriage …”

“Shame you didn’t think about it while you were happily gambling away everything we have,” I spit. He walks towards me. “Please, Star.”

In the mirror, I see him standing behind me. His hand reaches out, and I watch transfixed, as his fingers caress my breast. His hand is a few shades darker than my skin.

The image is erotic.

I carry on watching him. Surprised at how I feel absolutely nothing. He slides around to the front of me and latches his mouth onto my nipple. I look down at him suckling at my breast. Like a … vampire. He looks up and our eyes meet. The expression in my face makes him freeze. He pulls his mouth away and straightens.

“I’ll be late,” I tell him. “I love you,” he says.

“Yeah, you said.” I side-step him and pick up the first pair of jeans my hands fall upon.

“I’m sorry. I am really, really sorry. If I could turn back the clock I’d do everything differently,” he wails.

“Shame, then, that you can’t turn back the clock.” “I’m going to find another way.”

I look at him expressionlessly. “Like I said, I’ll be home after lunch. Make sure you either have the four hundred and fifty thousand pounds ready to pay off your debt, or you’ve made an appointment for me to see the Russian this evening.”

“You’re pretty eager to give yourself to him,” he says bitterly.

I turn around and slap him hard across the face. So hard his face jerks all the way to the side, and the palm of my hand stings. I look at the white imprint of my palm on his cheek. I have never hit anyone before.

“Get out,” I snarl.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“The longer you stand here the more respect I’m losing for you.” He holds his face and walks out of the room.

I get dressed and go downstairs. He comes out into the hallway. Totally ignoring him, I walk out of the front door. Once I’m outside, I feel the tears start stinging behind my eyes. I blink them back. No matter what happens Nan or Dad must never know. I get into my car and drive down to Nan’s house. Grandad opens the door.

“What’s up, Love?” he asks, patting my shoulder. “You look a bit pale.” “Nothing. I think I might be coming down with a cold. I don’t feel that well.” “Is that Star?” Nan shouts from the bedroom.

“Who else would it be?” he shouts back. “Come in. Come in,” Grandad invites.

I walk through the hallway. “Nan, I’m not feeling too well. Is it okay if I get you a taxi? I’ll go see Dad tomorrow.”

“What’s wrong with you, Love?”

“I must be coming down with something. Whatever it is, I definitely don’t want to give it to Dad.” “No, no, definitely not. Sit down and I’ll make you a cup of tea.”

I smile weakly at her. “No, I won’t stay. I think I’ll just go back and get back in bed.” “You shouldn’t have come around. You should have just called.”

“I only started to feel bad in the car.” It’s partly true. The true enormity of the situation only started to hit home while I was driving over.

I take my phone out and call Uber and arrange for Nan’s transport to the hospital. Then I get back into my car and drive to Hyde Park. I park in a place I shouldn’t, but quite frankly, I don’t care if I get a ticket.

It is a dull, overcast day, and rain is forecast, but I go into the park. Sitting down on an unoccupied bench, I g****e ‘gambling addiction’ on my cellphone. Over four million pages on the subject. I start clicking on the links and find out the most important thing to remember is not to lose faith if a loved one wants to overcome addiction.

That a support system is absolutely vital for the recovery process. It is a difficult road to travel, but the way to make the process easier and more successful is to recognize that it is actually an illness. A mental illness. I learn that addictions can change the way the brain functions. It skews perceived needs so that the addiction becomes the top priority, and that is what leads to the compulsive, uncontrollable behavior.

Apparently, there are millions of people who have a gambling addiction. Some to a lesser degree, but for some it is bad enough to wreck marriages and families.

I scroll down and read about other people’s experiences. Wives who have left their husbands. Wives who have stayed and supported them through the hell. The main advice they all offer is to be a support system, but not to become the enabler.

The most important aspect of support is communicating in an open and honest way and creating boundaries, they say, by telling your loved one what you are and aren’t willing to do. Being consistent in your expression of loving them and wanting to help. Replacing bad environments with good ones and changing routines. Joining a support group is highly recommended. Feelings of isolation can creep in so a support group is vital.

I close my phone and stare at some kids playing in the distance. I think of my yellow room with its painted daffodils. It was a stupid idea, anyway. A baby’s room should be blue or pink. I’ll repaint it in a month’s time. Or maybe I’ll wait until I know the sex of the baby. I think of myself walking by the Bonpoint store in Soho, a French label that makes gorgeously over-the-top clothes for children and babies. I had to fight the temptation to go in. But once I gave in and pushed open the door … oh, it was a treasure trove of wonderful things.

Nikolai.

The name flashes into my mind. Who is this man? Why does he want to hurt Nigel so much that he would take his wife for a month? At the thought of someone wanting to hurt Nigel a deep sense of protective instinct for Nigel kicks in.

I remember the day he proposed. He hired the whole Café du Paris and filled it with can-can dancers

that he had flown in from Paris. One of the dancers came and called me up to the stage. I didn’t know what was going on. Blood was pounding in my ears. Then the curtain of dancers parted and I saw him get on one knee.

I thought I would die with happiness.

Yeah, it was showy, but I was young and that was the happiest day of my life. Until my wedding day arrived, that is. Nothing will ever top that. We were both so excited about the future. Not even my parents’ long faces could dim our happiness. How handsome he was standing in his blue morning suit.

When he turned to look at me, I almost fainted with happiness.

I stood in that small, sunlit church and promised for better or worse. Now Nigel is ill. An addiction is just as much a disease as cancer is.

I’ll stand by Nigel as long as he wants to change. Other women have stood by their husbands and won the battle against this disease. If this Russian thinks he will destroy what I have with Nigel, he can think again.

My phone rings, startling me out of my thoughts.