‘Do you need anything, Josh?’ he called as his son trudged up the stairs, looking as if he was carrying the weight of the world on his small shoulders. Jason felt something crack inside him as he thought of the angst Holly and Josh still had to come. ‘Hot chocolate? Warm milk?’
‘No.’ Josh shook his head. ‘Going to playLego Star Warsfor a bit, and then go to sleep.’
‘Not for too long, Josh,’ Jason reminded him. ‘Blue light before bed won’t help you sleep – you know that, right?’
‘Yeah, I know,’ Josh said, with an elongated sigh. ‘You tell me that about seven times a week.’
Hating that he couldn’t make this right for his kids, make their world safe again, Jason sighed heavily in turn and then shrugged out of his jacket and went straight to the lounge. Holly wasn’t in there, which meant that she was ensconced in her bedroom. She and Josh had both taken to hiding away lately, no doubt to avoid the hostile atmosphere.
Kneading his temples in weary frustration, Jason headed to the kitchen to grab a coffee. He hadn’t thought about what he would eat. He had no appetite. He flicked the kettle on and was reaching for the coffee when his gaze snagged on a pack of pills on the work surface. Curious, he picked up the box, his heart plummeting as he realised what they were: diazepam, Karla’s. Prescribed three days ago.Jesus.With nightmares constantly waking her, she hadn’t been sleeping well before this. She probably wasn’t sleeping at all now. Had she started them? Because if so, he was pretty sure she shouldn’t be drinking alcohol. Opening the box and seeing that she had, Jason pulled out the information leaflet. He was halfway through the side effects and warnings when Karla came in from the hall.
‘Mine, I think,’ she said, walking swiftly across to relieve him of them.
‘Karla…’ Jason blew out a sigh, as she about-faced and headed back out. ‘Look, I know you’ll think it’s none of my business, but should you be drinking while taking those things?’
‘You’re right. It’s not,’ Karla informed him, heading back through the hall to pick up her holdall, in which she stowed her ‘going-out gear’. She never got made-up and dressed to go out here, preferring to do it at her friend’s house, she said, rather than be scrutinised by a man who obviously hadn’t found her attractive in a long time. That couldn’t be further from the truth. Jason had always found her attractive, but there was no way to convince her of that. Not now.
‘Karla, don’t,’ he said, his voice tight. ‘Please don’t take those things and drink at the same time.’
‘I’ll do what I choose, Jason,’ she replied bluntly. ‘That seems to be the general attitude around here.’
‘ForGod’s…’ Jason’s jaw clenched with frustration. ‘You’re not supposed to take them with alcohol. It’s bloody dangerous! If you’re not worried about yourself, think of the kids. They’d be devastated if—’
Karla whirled back around. ‘Methink of the kids?’ She stared at him with a mixture of disbelief and fury and then laughed derisively. ‘Just piss off, Jason,’ she hissed, walking to the front door. ‘Do what you like with who you like. As I’ve no doubt you already are.’
Tugging in a breath, Jason bit hard on his tongue.I just might, he thought furiously. ‘What time will you be back?’ he asked, as calmly as he could.
Karla’s answer was to walk out of the front door, allowing Megan access as she went.
Great.What was the bloody point? Nodding a half-hearted greeting at Megan, Jason raked a hand agitatedly through his hair. What did he do now? He had no idea where she was going, what the hell she was doing.
‘Shall I go through?’ Megan asked him, hovering awkwardly in the hall.
Jason was about to say no, but… ‘The kids are in bed,’ he said on impulse. Stepping past her, he grabbed his car keys from the hall table. ‘No unsuitable Netflix,’ he warned, giving Karla a second to set off and then heading out after her.
‘When do you need me till?’ Megan called from the door.
‘I’ll text you,’ Jason called back, climbing hurriedly into his car.
Pulling off the drive, he turned in the direction Karla had taken, heading towards the dual carriageway. Was she going into town to meet friends there, he wondered, as he picked up her car and followed her at a safe distance.
Fifteen minutes later, he had his answer, and wished to God that he didn’t, because there was only one reason Karla would be checking in to a Travelodge. Her story of ‘staying over at a girlfriend’s’ was bullshit.
His heart beating unsteadily in a combination of anger and jealousy, Jason parked discreetly on the opposite side of the car park. Praying he didn’t see anyone arrive and follow her in –anyone male, that was – he settled down to wait until he saw her come out.
His gut twisted as he took in the clothes she was wearing: a short, tight black dress that accentuated her figure and thigh-high leather boots that made her legs look as if they went on forever. She got into a taxi and he trailed her to a trendy wine bar. He waited five minutes and then followed her in, feeling sick to his soul. She was at the bar, with one hand pressed to the chest of some smooth-looking bastard who was wasting no time in trailing his hand down her back to the base of her spine, and lower. Who was he? Someone she was seeing? Her hook-up for the night? Jason laughed sardonically. The hotel room was already conveniently booked.Fuck!
Twenty-Eight
KARLA
I am immensely relieved he looks like a regular guy. Standing three or four inches taller than me, he’s wearing black boots and black chinos, with a white T-shirt over a tidy torso. As in his photos, he has a hint of a beard, dark hair. I smile my approval. He seems nice enough. Normal.
I couldn’t go through with it the first time. My stomach had been a tight ball of nerves, my heart banging against my chest and my head screaming at me to run. In the end, with enough wine consumed to numb my emotions and free my inhibitions, I’d simply closed my eyes and tried to go with the flow, hoping it would allow me to escape from the pain of my husband’s infidelity. It hadn’t. The pain was still there, pressing down on my chest as heavily as the stranger on top of me. Mercifully, he’d been understanding. He might not have been. I’m aware of the danger.
My ‘date’ pulls me closer, indicating he’s interested in more than the dance. For now, in this moment, he wants me. I am desired, needed, if only for one night. And when the night is over, we will go our separate ways. He will move on, another piece of me will be gone and I will go home to my children.
I try to detach from my emotions, to lose myself on the dance floor, where I can be anyone I want to be. Anyone but me. But as I raise my arms in the air, desperate for the enticing rhythm of the music to transport me to another place, I am seized by a crushing sense of anxiety. The thud of the bass coming through the huge sound system grows too loud, each thump causing my heart to pump manically, my blood to whoosh through my temples. The strobes are too bright. Searing white light. The overabundance of beer and perfume too cloying.
