The Wednesday Wife

By Ruby Binns-Cagney

Cecilia Kershenbaum's rigid life stifles her to the point of exasperation.
When she is thrown into a life or death situation with the mysterious John Heathfield aboard a stricken aircraft she courageously saves his life.

He causes her to question her reasons to stay with her husband of fourteen years when the turbulence in her marriage almost pushes her completely out of her comfortable life.

Her childhood friend, Claudia, is about to self-destruct. Cecilia rushes to New York City to help her, only to uncover her friend's devastating secret.

When Martin Kershenbaum is murdered, John Heathfield's overpowering presence in her life forces Cecilia to make a difficult decision which she can't afford to make.
As the truth emerges, Cecilia's newfound happiness is challenged, with a mind-blowing conclusion.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BinnsCagneyPublishing Co
• Release date: Apr 30, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311406729

Ruby Binns-Cagney

Keep in touch - sign up for new releases and save on publication day:http://books2read.com/author/ruby-binns-cagney/subscribe/1/41373/Ruby Binns-Cagney is a successful independently published Author who writes women's fiction (chick-lit) and American-based crime thrillers.Ruby's 'Detective Macaulay' crime series has a following on Twitter https://www.twitter.com/detmacaulay (@DetMacaulay)Ruby has a website and blog - read more details of her publishing services.Through her publishing company - BinnsCagneyPublishing Co - Ruby empowers others to become self-published Authors, and her Team also mentor new Authors.Free Marketing Help Signup:http://eepurl.com/3IsJPAdd her to your Google+ Circles https://plus.google.com/+RubyBinnsCagney/postsPlease visit her website:http://author-tales-of-self-publishing-books.blogspot.co.uk

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The Wednesday Wife

A Detective Macaulay Homicide Case

Ruby Binns-Cagney

Copyright © 2014 Ruby Binns-Cagney

All rights reserved.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Ruby Binns-Cagney has asserted her right under the Copyright Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. The names and characters are the products of the Author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2014 Cover Image BinnsCagneyDesign Co

Copyright © 2014 Ruby Binns-Cagney

BOOKS BY RUBY BINNS-CAGNEY

Available at all online retailers

The Detective Macaulay Murders Trilogy:

One For The Money

Lay Lady Lay

Albatross

A Detective Macaulay Homicide Case Series:

Pandora's Box

Tabula Rasa

1-8-7 Homicide New York

Fifth Avenue Murder

Agent Down

Cainer

Athena

Stone Cold

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

About The Author

Chapter One

When Cecilia felt the warmth from sunlight which streamed through the thin curtains at the bedroom window, it made the fine dark hairs on her arms stand up. She'd been awake for at least an hour, but remained in bed enthralled by the sounds of the City of London as it roused itself from sleep. The thud of the train in the distance as it clattered on steel rails towards East London threatened to make her drowsy with its lullaby.

Her husband Martin snored softly beside her. His face was framed by a patchy red coarse haired beard which seemed so charming and avant garde days earlier, but now only served to annoy her. It also clashed with his freckled complexion and dark brown though sparse head of hair. Martin was in no mood to shave that morning, nor any morning.

Martin was awake. His eyes fluttered upwards to her mouth and nose, then to her hair.

You’re awake. It’s still so early. His eyes were a lighter shade of blue than her own, with microdots for irises.

I've been awake for a while. Will you ever shave this off? She reached for his chin. Scratchy, thick hair grazed her fingertips. He flinched from her touch and turned his head to evade it. No plans to shave anytime soon. I really should get up. He sounded tired.

She looked at her feet which protruded from beneath the sheets. He struggled to sit upright and his elbow almost collided with her head in an effort to untangle himself from the bedclothes. Are you going in to the office? She stared at the freckles on his back and shoulders.

He looked at the television opposite their bed which was switched off. Anything to avoid eye contact with her. The newspaper won’t print itself if I don’t go in. He kissed her lips lightly. She stroked the back of his head, and he planted a second kiss on her cheek and left the bed. They were down to perfunctory kisses after fourteen years of a mostly happy marriage. Fleeting kisses were the most she could hope for from him.

His mood wasn't great in the morning. He stuck rigidly to his routines. However, his frequent complaint about how his neck ached where he had slept with it pressed it into his bunched up pillows all night didn't come today.

Have you reconsidered taking some time off? she said. He looked tired. He needed a break from his career as Editor in Chief of the Literary section of the London Times newspaper. A position which kept them apart most nights of the week as he lurched from crisis to crisis. The newspaper was his life, and Cecilia took second place.

Are we really going to go through this again? he said. He walked away from the bed. I can't take a break right now. Not with the buyout threat to the Paper hanging over my head. His heavy footfalls on the parquet floor and the bathroom door's slam announced his departure.

She stared up at the ceiling and slowly counted to ten. Inhaled air through her nose and out through her mouth slowly. Her chest burned with the effort of it. Their Marital Therapist swore it worked to relieve tension but she still felt incensed minutes later.

She'd first met Martin at a party the day after one of her client’s books had been reviewed in the Times's Literary Section. She'd challenged Martin about the article, having found the book's review so churlish. They had bonded over cappuccinos and long lunches, and married within six months of going out on their first date. They had settled into a routine life. Fourteen years on, she worked as a Freelance Publicist for a Publishing House based in Central London, with its Headquarters in New York City.

It was after eight in the morning. Three a.m. in New York. Claudia was the one person she knew over there who would be awake. She reached for her phone and dialled the digits quickly before she changed my mind. The call was answered on the third ring.

Cecilia! How nice to hear from you! How are you? Claudia Wellburton. Her best friend since childhood, and reliable confidante. She lived with her husband Charles Coleton in the Chelsea area of Manhattan and had invited Cecilia to visit. A little time away from Martin would revive her. She sounded like she was at a party.

It’s so noisy there. I can hardly hear you. Cecilia strained to listen to the call and then heard the background noise fade away gradually.

Is this better? Claudia had a sneaky cigarette in the garden while Charles was occupied with the Mulverns; a married couple who had just celebrated their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Jeremy Mulvern was also Charles' business partner, and their Auction House had hosted the party at the Waldorf Astoria hotel.

The party was today? I didn’t mean to interrupt you. I’ll call you a bit later. She heard Claudia exhale, and imagined a plume of grey smoke as it haloed her long sleek brunette hair. It’s so boring. I’m glad for the interruption. What’s new with you? Claudia exhaled more fumes. Cecilia heard the distinctive chink of ice against glass.

I need to get away. Cecilia thought she sounded vague and hesitant, and heard Claudia gulp down her drink.

Why don’t you come and stay with me for a while? Cecilia heard the concern in her voice and it rankled her. She didn’t need her to quarterback her life. She just desperately needed time to think about her dwindling marriage. I can be on the last flight out tonight. No hesitation in her voice this time. I'll book it for you. Bring me some Duty Free cigarettes and some vodka, will you darling? It was the least she could do.

Thanks so much. Take care. Cecilia hung up before she could change her mind, and focussed on getting her suitcase packed. The detail of what would happen after her arrival would work itself out.

The suitcase was hard to zip up. Even when she pushed the contents down firmly, the case mercifully groaned as the zip whipped around its enclosure.

Martin whistled tunelessly in the shower while she booked a taxi to take her to the airport. She heard the water shut off in the shower as she hung up the phone and moved the suitcase over by the front door and out of sight. By the time Martin stood at the bedroom mirror after his shower she was back on the bed and quietly fussed with the laptop.

He looked at her over the rims of his glasses which were precariously perched on the tip of his nose. He brushed his wet hair back from his eyes. The pearl bracelet on her wrist caught his attention in the mirror. A small gift to herself when he hadn't wanted to formally exchange gifts to celebrate their wedding anniversary last year. He stopped the hairbrush mid-stroke.

There's not a lot happening at work, so I’ve accepted Claudia’s offer to stay with her in New York for a little while. Martin was stunned. He now realised she was actually serious about taking time out of their marriage, after repeatedly dangling the idea in front of him. She'd been trying to tell him for months how unhappy she felt. He'd ignored her, and had hoped she'd get over it. Alright. How long will you be gone? His tone was almost flat, if not a touch sarcastic. He didn't like Claudia. He found her brash and uncouth. Cecilia hadn’t been prepared for such a low-key response from him.

I don't have it all planned out. I'll make it up as I go along. I just can't go on like this. He sat next to her on the bed.

You're leaving me? You're saying our marriage is over? Cecilia had been too vague about her next move. She had to adjust.

I'm not saying it's over. Things have to change. I miss you. I miss us. His towel fought his sudden movement towards her. He tore it off completely in frustration which revealed how aroused he was.

I still love you. Do you see how much I want you? She was about to respond but faltered at his outburst. He was usually so reticent. He'd made the brave decision to admit his real feelings, and to acknowledge the true reason why their marriage was failing. It was unexpected for her to see this reaction from him. Cecilia had stopped wanting him sexually. His touch had tantalised her once, but now it only left her cold. He'd submerged his pain by pouring his energy into his career in a bid to cope without her affection.

It's not how often we have sex which is the problem. It's the vast amount of time we spend apart. I hardly ever spend time with you outside of this house. You’re always at work. He pushed the laptop to one side and moved closer towards her. His arms were around her as he moved her back against the bed and she felt his unwelcome pressure against her body. His rough beard irritated her neck when he kissed her there. He was clumsy, and awkward, and she desperately wanted to get away from him.

I’m here now. Isn’t this what you want? he said. He moved swiftly and took her hands to his groin. She felt uncomfortable with his forcefulness, which felt vulgar and obtrusive.

Stop it! She pushed him away. He pushed her back against the bed, grabbed her by her wrists and forced her hands behind her back. He tightened his grip on them and held her there.

Stop! I don't want this! He ignored her pleas and forced her thighs apart with his knee. She felt so violated. She struggled to get out of his grasp and forcefully thrashed against the bed until he retreated. She felt blood on her neck where he had scratched her, and touched it. Its bright red stain on her fingers alarmed him.

I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. He was contrite, and threw the bedclothes over his body in defeat. Cecilia slapped his face and left the bed. His rasping breath caught in his throat as his eyes followed her departure to the bathroom.

This is a new low, even for you, Martin. She locked the door. Her pride hurt more than anything. Her reflection in the mirror horrified her. She looked feral. Her was hair stuck up in places, and her complexion looked sallow. The scratches on her neck were superficial. She got into the shower to let the water hit her face, and wallowed in her disdain of him.

Cecilia? Let me in. He tried the door handle. She ignored him and let the water ease her discomfort. I'm really sorry, he said. She didn't answer him. She slumped to the tiled floor and let the water cascade over her. She felt so small. So insignificant. Her energy to fight with him was fully spent. Martin gave up his attempt to coax her to open the door and went to the kitchen. He made a cup of coffee for them both and quickly ate a piece of a bagel with it. Cecilia emerged from the bathroom fully dressed. She stared at the cup of coffee he had left for her on the counter. I'm sorry I hurt you. Martin stared at her silently. The doorbell sounded and fractured the silence between them. My taxi. I’ll call you when my plane lands. He could only stare as she quickly walked away. Cecilia, wait! Damn it! He smashed the coffee cup against the wall dejectedly.

She dragged the suitcase on six shaky rubber wheels and closed the front door behind her. The taxi driver hauled her suitcase onto the back seat while she pushed herself inside and closed the door. As the vehicle moved away from the house she didn’t look back.

City Airport, Miss? He pretended not to see the tears which ran down her cheeks. Yes please. Her escape from her miserable life had begun. One hour later she was among thirty other passengers on a private jet headed to New York City.

Martin slammed his briefcase down onto his desk and pulled his jacket off. He sat in his chair and logged onto his computer. He really wanted to take out his frustration on something, but his all-glass office afforded him little privacy. The last thing he needed was an audience when he had a meltdown. Cecilia had left him, even if she denied it. He felt like her extraction from their marriage was a permanent separation. It pained him to imagine his life without her. He chided himself for his failure to fight to keep her with him; and the vivid flashes of his torrid and unwelcome behaviour made him dry-retch with guilt.

He was under considerable pressure at work. It drained all of his energy and left him to run on endless cups of coffee. On his return home, he collapsed into bed without an afterthought of her. He didn't ask her about her day. He realised now how badly he had neglected the one person who had loved him. Her decision to leave for New York that morning had scalded his soul.

He ran through the newspaper's circulation figures on the screen and jotted down notes at intervals. The numbers blurred before his eyes. He needed to take a break. He looked at the bowed heads of the Staffers at their desks. Elaine looked up from her desk at the same moment, and came to his office door. Can I get you anything? Her coat and purse in hand, she loitered in the doorway.

Come in and close the door. She clicked it shut and sat in the chair opposite him, her shoes off. He took in her green sweater, its thin brown belt at her waist, and her long legs curled atop the chair. Her indigo jeans were tight which accentuated her shape.

Cecilia's gone. Left for New York this morning. I've no idea when she'll be back. If she'll be back, I should say. He bit into the plastic cap of the pen which was in his right hand.

I'm sorry to hear that. What happens now? Martin looked up into her green eyes which looked so serious. Her soft, red, poker-straight hair lay around her shoulders. Martin straightened up in his chair and rested his hands on his knees to stop his obsession with the pen.

What would you like to happen? he said. She slid off the chair and pushed her feet back into her shoes. Her coat and purse were on the chair by the door.

Come with me. She waited at the open door. Martin took his jacket from the back of the chair and left the office with her.

The pilot made an announcement that the flight was cleared to take off. A man to Cecilia's left appeared in the aisle and slammed his satchel down onto the seat, then rifled through its contents for his crumpled copy of the