‘This is the last time,’ he said, one hand on his forehead, a strange intensity in his tone. His head snapped around, sensing her presence, and he gave her a nod. ‘Okay, mate, yep. I gotta go. Issy’s just arrived home.’
A long pause.
‘Get some sleep, mate.’
He hung up and tossed his phone aside. ‘Marshall’s having girl problems again.’ He lay back on the pillows, massaging his forehead.
‘I didn’t know they were back together,’ Issy said, dropping her shoes and dumping her bag on the armchair in the corner of the room. Marshall was Hugh’s younger brother. He’d broken up with his girlfriend twice this year already. It was getting tedious.
‘They’re not anymore.’
She went into the ensuite and squeezed cleanser onto a cotton pad.
‘How was the fundraiser? Did you raise lots of funds?’
‘Of course we did,’ Issy said, patting her face dry.
‘Who was there?’
‘All the usual suspects. Mum was in fine form. So much for the long covid.’ She unzipped her pants and let them fall to the bathroom floor in a gold puddle. ‘Helen was a no-show, although Daisy was there, which was a nice surprise. I suspect it was for the content, rather than the sick babies, but whatever.’
She went into the bedroom and reached under her pillow for her pyjamas. Hugh was scrolling on his phone. He glanced up at her naked body and smiled appreciatively.
‘There was also a woman there who’s in town to research the Hartwell Gaol development.’
Hugh’s head snapped up. ‘Research it?’
‘She’s an academic, very supportive of what we’re doing which is a nice change.’ She pulled the cami over her head.
Hugh frowned. ‘What’s her name?’
‘Megan Hunter-Bainbridge,’ she said.
‘Warwick told me about her. Said she was asking all sorts of questions.’
Issy rolled her eyes. ‘She’s just a PhD student. Hardly cause for alarm. She’s quite intriguing, actually.’
‘Intriguing, how?’
Issy thought for a moment, then shrugged. ‘I don’t know, really.’ She stepped into her pyjama shorts and went back into the bathroom to finish her skincare routine. Maybe intriguing wasn’t the right word. Unusual, perhaps. She was nothing like the rest of the people in that room, who seemed airbrushed in comparison. There was something so self-possessed about her. Even her style was unique. Vintage Zimmermann and Valentinos. Issy’s own outfit had felt predictable and unimaginative in comparison.
As she applied a retinol serum, she replayed the conversation they’d had as Meg was leaving. She was staying at the Red Lion pub, of all places! Issy had failed to mask her horror—if the smell of beer in the bar was any indication, the accommodation must be utterly dreadful. Meg had just laughed and said it was fine, politely declining Issy’s offer to arrange a room for her at the Ashworth Park.
As she applied her eye cream, she thought of Meg’s eyes, the golden-brown circling the iris, surrounded by the larger blue ring. She’d never seen eyes like that before.
Hugh was asleep when she returned to the bedroom. His phone was lying where he’d tossed it onto the quilt after he’d finished speaking to Marshall. She reached for it, intending to put it on the bedside table, but instead she paused, thinking of the weird call from the night before. The muffled voices. The girly giggle.
Had it really been Marshall on the phone just now? What was Hugh saying as she stood at the door? ‘This is the last time.’ Why would he say that to Marshall?Whatwas the last time? Did he mean this was the last time Marshall could break up with his girlfriend? What an odd thing to say. It was Marshall’s life, after all.
She looked back at the phone, tempted to check it, but decided against it. That was desperate, paranoid behaviour.
Although … She swallowed. Maybe one quick look would reassure her that there was nothing to worry about. She’d seen Hugh enter his passcode a thousand times. Three taps with his left index finger, three taps with his right. Top left, then top right. 111333. She looked at him to check he was really asleep, then tapped in the code.
She checked his recent calls, expecting to see Marshall’s name. It was there, they’d spoken just after ten, but it wasn’t the most recent call. That was fromGeorge Mobile.
Who the hell was George?
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