The waiter raised his eyebrows,
"That's all," Manon said, dismissing him. He retreated quickly. "Are you all right?" Marjorie asked.
I nodded.
"Why do you say this has gone on?" I asked in a small voice.
"We were hoping for your sake that it wasn't going on We had our suspicions, and it did take some time to verify certain facts. The first is the most obnoxious of all, we have agreed, right. girls?"
Heads bobbed in unison.
"What is the first so-called fact?" I asked.
The air around me seemed to grow hotter and hotter with every passing second, making it more and more difficult to breathe.
"He had the audacity, the disgusting audacity, to see her on your honeymoon. They met in Nice while you were staying in that chateau in Eze." Manon said.
"How did he get away from you for so long on your honeymoon?" Sharon asked. "We were all wondering about that."
I sat in disbelief, recalling his sudden, very important business meeting.
"How do you know these things are true?" I asked. My throat was so tight. I strained to speak.
"Marjorie's parents have some friends who are close friends of Mai Stone's in-laws. Some of this came out in ordinary conversation, and then Marjorie began to pursue it for us."
"I followed up with my sources, one of whom is his secretary, Terri Wilson."
"Terri?"
"I know." Manon said. smiling. You thought she would cut off her tongue before talking about Thatcher's private affairs. Well, she doesn't talk about any business affairs. but I think his behavior finally got to her and she couldn't help talking to someone about it."
"We went to college together." Marjorie said. "She's not any sort of busybody, so don't go telling anyone she is," she warned, those eyes of hers turning into tiny hot coals.
To continue," Manon said after sipping some coffee. "we have learned that Mai Stone has been making her raids frequently ever since."
I started to shake my head.
"We anticipated your skepticism, of course. None of us, none of the women we've helped, wants to believe that the man she loves and who professes to love her above all other women would betray her, but they do," she said with a glint of cold, steely anger in her eyes.
"Oh, yes, they do," Marjorie seconded.
"Anyway," Manon continued, reaching down to take a folder from her Gucci bag, "we have from time to time employed a private detective. Everything is done discreetly, of course, and he has proven to be an efficient and effective source of information for us.
"Once we learned of Thatcher's little betrayals, we hired a detective at our own expense, from our club dues, so to speak, to gather the information you would need. It's all here." she said, holding out the folder to me, "dates, times. places. There are even some pictures,"
I stared at the folder she proffered.
"It's yours," she emphasized. "A gift from us." "A gift." I said softly. "Some gift."
"We understand how you feel. We've all felt the same way at different times, but we've all been grateful for the support we lend to each other as well. Willow. That's why we invited you to join our group, Manon said. "You might as well take it and look at it." she added, pushing the folder at me.
I still hesitated.
"You will need this for other reasons, Willow. I don't know what you will decide to do about it, but if you intend to get a divorce, you had better have this, knowing that you are moving to divorce an attorney, who, we assume, has created a prenuptial agreement."
The look on my face told her she was right on target. She offered the file again.
I took it gingerly. Between the covers of the folder was the death of love, the revelation of lies and broken promises. It was filled with tiny arrows directed at my heart. My fingers trembled. I was terrified by the thought of opening the file and looking at what it held, yet drawn to do it as well.