Private Lives by Tasmina Perry Page B

per annum. Which meant that what she had earned for that minute-long arse-crack scene today was more than he took home in a year.
    The growl of the intercom made him jump. He frowned. The only people who usually rang his doorbell were pizza delivery boys.
    ‘Yes?’ he said, pressing the button.
    ‘It’s Carla,’ said the tinny voice.
    He was completely thrown by the sound of his ex-wife’s voice.
    ‘Can I come up?’ she pressed.
    Carla never visited him. When their son Jonas came to stay, Matthew picked him up and dropped him off at the beautiful Notting Hill home that Carla shared with her second husband. They had a cordial but remote relationship, which was the way he liked it, because he wasn’t sure if he could ever forgive her for what she had done.
    There was a rap on the door and Matt slipped Erica’s card back into his pocket before he opened it.
    ‘Hi, Matt,’ Carla said softly. ‘How are you?’
    She looked beautiful and more casual than usual, in a white summer dress, her honey-blond hair pulled back into a simple ponytail. From the moment he had first seen her in a crowded bar in Fulham, she’d always had the power to floor him with her beauty.
    ‘You heard about Larry?’
    He’d tried to contact her about Larry’s heart attack the day it had happened. After all, Larry was Jonas’s grandfather, and although the two of them had only met a handful of times, Matt had decided to let his ex-wife know. He had got through to Carla’s voicemail and she had yet to call him back about it. Matt could only suppose it was the purpose of her visit.
    ‘How is he?’ she said briskly.
    ‘He leaves hospital today, although he’s got to watch out for another attack.’
    ‘I was sorry to hear about it.’
    Matthew looked at her carefully. Larry’s illness was clearly not the reason she was here. As he scanned her face, he noticed that her eyes were rimmed pink. He had a stab of panic about his son.
    ‘Carla, what’s wrong? Where’s Jonas?’
    ‘Don’t worry. Jonas is fine. Although I’ve been better.’
    She wrapped her thin, sinewy arms around her body. She had slimmed down since they had lived together and she was groomed and styled immaculately. The perfect little millionaire’s wife, he thought, immediately regretting the childishness. Then again, he knew he was still bitter. The night he had found out about Carla’s affair still felt like yesterday. He remembered waving her off on a girls’ night out. He remembered how she had forgotten her mobile and how he had seen it chirping on the breakfast bar, an insistent text message waiting to be answered. So he’d opened the message just to stop the noise. My bed is still warm from you, when can you get away again? Dxx
    And just like that, his marriage, the stable family life he had always craved, was over.
    ‘Can I get you anything?’ he asked, walking over to the kitchen. ‘Drink?’
    ‘Coffee. One of your specials.’
    He’d had so little contact with Carla’s life in the last few years, but still there was this code between them. He guessed four years of marriage did that to you.
    He brewed up a mug using the shiny chrome single-guy coffee machine and took it through to the living room. Carla was standing by his bookcase, looking at a framed photograph of her and Jonas lying in the sand cracking up with laughter. He knew it wasn’t the done thing to keep photos of your ex-wife this long after the divorce, but well, it was a great picture, especially of Jonas. He’d been so excited to be on holiday.
    She looked around at him and he could see that her eyes were full of tears. ‘We look so happy there,’ she managed, before her face crumpled and she was sobbing. He walked over and put an awkward arm around her shoulders.
    ‘What’s up?’ he said gently. ‘What is it?’
    ‘David’s left me.’ Her words were almost inaudible among the sobs. ‘He’s left me.’
    My bed is still warm from you, when can you get away again? Dxx
    David.