He had checked then? He clearlywastaking her seriously. Pity he hadn’t before. But would it really have made any difference? Seeing his ex-wife for some plausible reason she could have accepted. But being with her while she was getting ready to take a bath? Never even mentioning he had been in contact with her, which he must have been, since they were clearly so intimate? There were no plausible excuses for that. ‘Try checking under the name Caldwell,’ she said, working to dismiss the image of the two of them in the bathroom together, but not quite managing to. ‘Laura changed her name, possibly to escape her past. It could explain a few things.’
‘I’ll look into it,’ he said. ‘See if there’s anything that’s not general knowledge on file.’
‘Okay. Thanks, Joe.’ She fell quiet. She didn’t know what else to say. What they had to say to each other. More, what he might say that wouldn’t hurt. ‘I, um, should go. I—’
‘Have things to do, I know,’ Joe finished quietly. ‘I’m sorry, Sarah.’
For what?She swallowed hard. That he was breaking her heart? That they were over? That he was sleeping with his ex?
‘She really was upset,’ he went on. ‘I wouldn’t have been with her for any other reason than that, I promise you.’
I don’t want to hear it.Sarah squeezed her eyes closed. ‘Why?’ she asked, and cursed herself. His explanation would be feeble. The woman hadn’t been asking him to pop the kettle on. How pathetic was she for desperately willing it not to be?
He hesitated. ‘She was pregnant,’ he said, shocking her. ‘When I left, she was pregnant. She lost the baby – at six months, she says. It was mine, apparently.’
Oh God, no.Sarah’s heart constricted. She’d lost a baby at just three months, but she knew how unbearably painful such a loss was, the deep, desolate loneliness, the grief exacerbated by the complete silence you were met with when you returned home empty-handed. Her own devastation had been compounded because she and Steve were already so far apart. Ollie had filled the silence with his childish chatter, but still she’d felt fractured, as if part of her were missing. But … wasn’t his wife with someone else? Surely he would have been there for her?
‘She’s split up with the guy she was seeing.’ Joe answered the question she hadn’t asked. ‘She hasn’t been looking after herself. She’s been ill, grieving; depressed, I suspect. She had a post-surgical infection after removal of a retained placenta. It seems it’s resistant to the antibiotics she’s been taking. Her doctor has given her stronger tablets. She should be okay, although the antibiotics themselves might have side effects. I … just needed you to know.’
Because he was grieving too? She knew him well enough to know that he would be.
‘There’s no going back for us. Even if the child had …’ He stopped, and Sarah heard his sharp intake of breath. ‘I couldn’t just walk away, Sarah. I probably should have done, but …’
She felt her heart bleed for him. For his ex-wife too, though given the way the woman had treated him, she couldn’t help wondering why she’d sought Joe out to tell him all this now.
Twenty-Eight
Sarah’s heart banged against her chest as she waited for the call to be answered. It was a landline. He might not even be there. She was about give up when someone picked up.
‘Christopher Jameson,’ the man said.
Sarah took a deep breath. ‘Hi.’ She forced a breezy tone. ‘You don’t know me, but I’m a friend of Laura Collins, and I was wondering—’
‘She doesn’t live here,’ he cut across her tersely. ‘Please don’t call again. I have no wish to discuss her or anything about her.’
He’d hung up. Stunned, Sarah stared at her phone. Well, that was short and sweet, and spoke volumes. Clearly their separation hadn’t been an amicable one. Doubting she would get a warm reception if she called around to his house, she wondered what she should do. She toyed with the idea of asking Joe to make a few unofficial enquiries after all, and then jumped as her phone rang. It was Becky, she realised. Sarah had rung her to fill her in. She’d promised she would call her back about meeting up for lunch today and had forgotten all about it. ‘Hi, Becks,’ she answered guiltily. ‘Sorry I forgot to call. I have so much going on, it completely slipped my mind.’
‘No problem,’ Becky assured her. ‘I have a little girl sick with a tummy bug anyway. I’m just waiting for her mum to collect her. Meanwhile, I have some information regarding the mysterious Laura’s past relationship I thought you might want.’
Sarah abandoned her attempts to make coffee one-handed. ‘As in?’ she asked hopefully.
‘The boy in the online photograph you told me about, Liam Jameson. I’ve contacted a few colleagues and it turns out he goes to West Acre Primary School. I’m not sure how useful it will be, but just to let you know he’s healthy and happy according to his teacher.’
Sarah breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Extremely useful. Thanks, Becks.’
Waiting in the playground of the West Acre primary at school-out time, Sarah’s stomach tied itself in knots. She shouldn’t be doing this. It was all sorts of wrong. Becky wouldn’t have shared the information if she’d imagined she might turn up here; she hoped to God she didn’t get her friend in trouble. Joe would definitely think she was being obsessive.
Watching the children spill from the entrance, she identified Liam immediately. An older version of Ollie with his striking blonde hair, the boy charged across the playground, spinning around and almost running backwards at one point as he waved goodbye to one of his little friends.
Her heart in her mouth, she waited until he approached where she stood just inside the school gates. She hadn’t seen any sign of his father. He was obviously running late. It was possible someone else was here to pick him up, but she thought not as she watched the boy slow to a stop and glance searchingly around. Taking a breath, she agonised for a moment, then, ‘Liam?’ She smiled warmly and walked across to him.
Liam nodded, but his expression was wary.
‘I’m Sarah,’ she said. ‘Ollie’s mummy.’
He frowned, seeming to assess her as she stopped in front of him. ‘Is he in my class?’ he asked after a second.
‘Not yet. He’s a bit younger than you, but he’ll be coming to your school soon.’
