‘I’m not fussed. You choose.’ Jemma opened the top cupboard, mopped her too hot forehead with the back of her hand, then fished the dinner plates out.
‘You should block those calls.’ Andrew glanced at her and back to the wine, his look inscrutable. ‘Register your phone with the Telephone Preference Service.’
Jemma’s heart stalled. He sensed something. She could tell by his frequent glances and stiff body language. Just as he had when she’d behaved furtively once before. Why in God’s name would Jack be calling her at this time of day when she’d specifically asked him not to? Not to call at all, in fact, unless for a legitimate reason.
‘Good idea. I should have done it before, but I haven’t had much time,’ she said, studiously avoiding eye contact as she went to the oven to put the plates in to warm.
‘Would you like me to do it for you?’ Andrew asked, a curious edge to his voice that told her he also knew very well she wasn’t about to let him anywhere near her phone.
‘No, dinner’s almost ready,’ she said, closely followed by ‘Shit!’ as she managed to burn herself on one of the oven racks.
‘You should run that under the cold tap,’ Andrew suggested, now pointedlynotlooking at her.
Flustered, Jemma hurried to the sink, yelling, ‘Kids, dinner in five minutes,’ as she passed the door to the hall.
Why had she done it? she asked herself, as she had a thousand times over. Andrew couldn’t find out. She’d acted stupidly, selfishly and impulsively, risking everything. She’d regretted it immediately, terrified she might lose her husband, lose her home and her family. She couldn’t. She loved Andrew. Despite his workaholic tendencies, staying late at the office because other people couldn’t get their accounts in on time, she’d loved him then. She’d told herself he wasn’t paying her enough attention. That he wasn’t there for her when she’d losther dear mum. It wasn’t true. He had been. Tried to be. He’d never been overly demonstrative emotionally, but he’d done his best to support her. The truth was, feeling jaded by the effort of juggling her own work, caring for her mum and the children – unseen, unless as a mother – she’d been flattered by the attention, attracted to a man who found her attractive.
How naïve and immature she had been. It was Jack’s number she should block.
Thankful when the children bustled noisily into the kitchen, she concentrated her efforts on them, whilst keeping one eye on Andrew, who seemed not to be joining in much with the conversation, and one eye on her phone in case he wandered over and picked it up.
Once the meal was over and Andrew had encouraged the children into the lounge for half an hour’s TV before bed, she seized the opportunity to grab the phone, which seemed to be taunting her, and retreat with it to the loo. She would text Jack, she decided, tell him she was deleting his number and why. And then delete the text.Hell.She wasn’t cut out for all this subterfuge. Andrew would take one look at her face and know in an instant something was going on. She was sure he suspected something before. He didn’t confront her, didn’t force an argument. He simply looked at her so sadly it wrenched her heart from her chest. This had to stop.
Firing up her phone, she was taken aback to see a string of missed calls from Kara.Oh no.A lurch of fear gripped her. Didsheknow?
FIFTY-SIX
NATALIA
I’m growing impatient as I wait for Jemma to call back. Checking the phone when it finally rings, I hurry across to where Kara sits on the sofa, watching my every move. ‘It’s her,’ I say. ‘You need to speak to her.’
‘And say what?’ She looks dubiously from the phone to me. ‘She won’t be able to talk now. Andrew will be home.’
‘Just tell her you know what she’s been up to. That you intend to speak to Andrew. That should have her around here like a shot.’ Giving her a warning glance, I accept the call, make sure it’s on speaker and press the phone to her ear.
‘Kara?’ Jemma’s uncertain tones emerge from it. ‘Is something wrong? Jack’s called me and I noticed some missed calls from you. I would have rung you back sooner but we were eating dinner. Is everything all right, sweetheart? I’m a bit concerned.’
‘Tell her,’ I mouth. I can almost see the wheels going round as Kara stares up at me. She’s wondering whether she should try to alert Jemma to what’s happening.Shit.Panic surges inside me. ‘Evie,’ I whisper, my eyes drilling meaningfully into hers.
‘Kara, are you there?’ Jemma’s tone grows wary. ‘Is everything?—’
‘I know about Jack,’ Kara blurts. ‘I know everything,’ she adds, tears escaping her eyes to roll wetly down her cheeks.
There’s nothing but stunned silence from Jemma. Then, ‘Don’t judge me, Kara,’ she says shakily. ‘Please, don’t say anything to Andrew,’ she begs. ‘I’m not proud of?—’
‘Jemma?’ I hear Andrew’s voice in the background. ‘Are you all right in there?’
‘Yes. Won’t be long,’ Jemma trills back. She’s in the bathroom, I gather, as I hear the loo flush. ‘I’m coming to see you,’ she says, speaking more quietly to Kara. ‘I’ll be there as soon as the children are in bed. We need to talk.’
Kara nods, relief flooding her features. I pull the phone away and end the call. The wheels will be spinning now. No doubt she’s thinking that Jemma will be able to assist her in some way. I’m going to have to play this very carefully.
‘Where’s Evie?’ she asks again as I pocket her phone. ‘What have you done to her?’
I note the fearful edge to her voice, and as much as I would rather she wasn’t, I realise that Evie is my collateral. ‘I’ve told you, she’s safe… for the moment. She’s sleeping,’ I add, sure that will focus her attention. ‘Worn out with all the stress, I imagine.’
‘You haven’t drugged her, have you?’ Kara’s face is ashen as she tries to raise herself from the sofa.
Riled by her immediate assumption that I would actually harm my own daughter, I step towards her and shove her back down. ‘I’mher mother, not you!’ I hiss. ‘I’ve onlyeverdone what’s best for her. It’syouwho’s damaged her, you and the man who claims to care for her.’
