Close up she could smell the drink on him.

He smiled dumbly at her.

“What have you got there, then?” He pointed at the bags.

“I thought I’d make my bolognese,” she said.

“Great!” he exclaimed, taking the bags from her.

He slung Julienne’s backpack over his shoulder and held the door open.

“How are you doing?” Faye asked as she unlocked the door to the apartment.

Jack was swaying slightly.

“Oh, fine.”

“And Ylva? She must be due any day now? Are you looking forward to it?”

Faye knew he hated talking about Ylva.

“She’s fine, I guess. She’s gone to stay with her parents, so I’m footloose and fancy free. Your text came at just the right time.”

She started to unpack the bags on the island.

“You didn’t say if you’re looking forward to the baby’s arrival.”

“I think you know my feelings about that. I’ll love the child, obviously, but I . . . I know who my family is. My real family.”

She felt like hitting him, but instead took a deep breath and smiled coquettishly.

“So the grass wasn’t greener on the other side?”

“No, that’s one way of putting it.”

“What are you going to do now?” she said as she started to brown the meat. “Now that you haven’t got Compare?”

Jack opened the fridge, found a carrot, rinsed it, and stuck it in his mouth.

“No need to worry, people know what I’m capable of. By the way, that campaign you’re running . . .”

“Oh?”

“I don’t think that pop star’s right for Revenge. I’ve had a look at your figures, and it seems to me . . .”

Her brain flared and her body tensed. Who did he think he was? But Jack didn’t notice, he just kept going, coming out with one nugget of advice after the other.

“I’m sure you’re right,” she said once he had finished.

Breathe, she told herself. Maintain the fa?ade. Stick to the plan.

When they sat down to eat Faye was struck by how unreal it all felt. They were sitting at the kitchen table talking in a way she used to dream about when they were married.

She had spent so many years hoping and longing for this.

“I’ve missed this dish, Faye,” Jack said, helping himself to more. “No one makes bolognese like you.”

He joked with Julienne and praised her for the things her teacher had said about her at the last parents’ evening, telling her how proud he was of her.

Why couldn’t we have had this, Jack? Faye wondered. Why couldn’t you have been satisfied with us?

—

Julienne’s eyes started to droop at half past nine. She protested at first when Jack picked her up, then let him carry her to her bedroom. When he returned he stood, looking slightly lost, between the sofa and the television.

“Well, I’d better get home.”

“You can stay a bit longer, can’t you?”

“Would you like me to?”

Faye shrugged and snuggled up against the arm of the sofa.

“It makes no difference to me. So if you’ve got other plans . . .”

He reacted to her nonchalance with the eagerness of a puppy.

“I’ll stay,” he said, and sat down. “Would you like more wine?”

“I’d love some,” she said, pushing her glass across the table. “There’s a bottle of whiskey, if you’d rather have that.”

“In the kitchen?”

She nodded. Jack went out and she heard him rummaging about.

“In the cupboard above the freezer,” Faye called.

Another door opened. A clink of bottles.

“This is a good one. Where did you get it from?”

“I was given it by some foreign investors,” she lied.

Robin had actually left it behind a few weeks ago when he stayed over. They had made love five or six times that night. Her crotch tingled at the memory.

When Jack returned to the sofa he sat down close to her, pulled her legs toward him, and laid her feet on his lap. He started to massage them. She closed her eyes as her feet warmed up.

“You know, it could be like this every night,” Jack said after a while.

She shook her head.

“You’d get bored after a couple of weeks, Jack. Now go and turn the shower on instead of talking nonsense.”

“The shower?”

“Yes, the shower. If we’re going to have sex, I don’t want you stinking of stale alcohol.”

Jack’s ears flushed red and Faye had to stifle a smile as he hurried off to the bathroom. While he showered Faye put her laptop on the shelf opposite the bed, and switched the camera on.

Jack was smiling when he came into the bedroom, but Faye felt nothing. Having sex with him was just a means to an end.

Afterward they lay panting side by side on the bed. His eyes twinkled hopefully.

“What do you say about me leaving Ylva and moving in here?”

“That’s impossible, Jack.”

“But you’ve forgiven me, haven’t you?”

“The fact that I’ve forgiven you doesn’t mean I want to live with you again.”

“I could invest in Revenge, help you run everything. It’s starting to get really big now, are you sure you can handle it? I mean, I’ve got far more experience of running a company than you have. There’s a big difference between being an entrepreneur and setting up a company, and actually keeping it going. You’ve done a fantastic job, but I think it’s probably time for you to let the professionals take over.”

This little man, whom she had maneuvered out of his own company, believed he could still tell her what was best for her.

Faye forced herself to stay calm. To focus on the goal.

“I don’t need any more investment,” she said. “Don’t worry about Revenge.”

“I only want to protect you and Julienne. Look after you.”

You should be worrying about protecting yourself, she thought. Keep an eye on what’s happening behind your back. Sleep with one eye open. I’ve already crushed you. Now there’s just Ylva left.

“It would be best if you left now, Jack,” she said.

“Have I made you cross?”

Those puppy-dog eyes again, but they’d lost all their power.

“Not at all, but I’ve got an early meeting tomorrow and I don’t want Julienne to see you here. You know it would only confuse her.”

“It would do her good if we became a real family again.”

“We were a family, Jack. The problem with you is that once you’ve got a family, you don’t want it anymore. Go home to your pregnant girlfriend.”

She turned her back on him and heard him gather his things and slink out.

When Jack had gone she took the computer down, looked through the recording, and picked out a scene in which Jack had his face between her legs. She made sure she was always waxed these days. Her breasts looked magnificent as she lay there groaning with pleasure. She took a few grainy screen-grabs where she couldn’t be identified, set up an anonymous Gmail account, and sent three pictures to Ylva.

Your man knows how to satisfy a woman was all she wrote.

Faye was sitting in her office when Jack stormed in. His face was bright red and he was sweating profusely. He was shouting so loudly that he could be heard throughout the office, and curious heads started to peer around screens. Faye was smiling inside. Jack was so predictable.

“What the hell have you done?”

Saliva sprayed from his mouth as he yelled. She wasn’t scared. It was a long time since she’d been scared of Jack. Or any man, come to that.

“Why the hell did you do that?”

“I don’t know what you’re referring to,” she said, well aware that Jack wouldn’t believe her.

But that was part of the game. She wanted him to know. That part of the charade was over now. Faye spun slowly back and forth on her office chair behind her beautiful desk. It was a designer piece by Arne Jacobsen, worth almost a hundred thousand kronor. Ingmar Bergman’s moth-eaten old desk could fuck right off. Ingmar Bergman could fuck off too, for that matter. The male genius who surrounded himself with women to lord it over and put down. Such a fucking cliché.

Jack leaned over the desk. His palms left sweaty prints on the shiny surface. She didn’t back down but moved her face closer to his. Looked at his puffy, tired face, smelled the stale wine and whiskey on his breath, and wondered what she had ever seen in him. He used to read Ulf Lundell’s books when she first met him. She should have seen the warning signs right from the start.

“I don’t know what you’re up to, Faye. But I’m going to crush you. I’m going to take everything from you. You’re a pathetic, crazy fucking bitch I picked up out of the gutter and turned into someone. Everyone’s going to find out who you are and where you come from. I know more than you think, you fucking bitch!”

She felt his saliva on her face and slowly lifted her hand. She wiped it off with the back of her hand and from the corner of her eye saw two security guards approaching.

She jerked back.

“What are you doing?” she cried. “Jack, stop it! Help! Please, someone! Help me!”