‘As if she wasn’t confused enough before all of this,’ he mutters, an agitated tic playing at his cheek.
I take a breath. ‘She seemed surprised,’ I say. ‘Actually, Natalia did, too.’
He frowns, takes another sip from his glass. ‘About?’ he asks, his eyes guarded as he looks back at me.
‘Your family.’
‘Oh?’ The furrow in his forehead deepens. ‘How so?’
‘Natalia seemed to think that you told me they died in a house fire in order to manipulate my feelings in some way.’ I pause, my chest thudding.
He pinches the bridge of his nose. ‘I see,’ he says, a flicker of anger crossing his face. ‘And I suppose now you’re wondering whether I might have. Meaningshe’smanipulated you, which was exactly what she was trying to do.’
As he stares at me as if I’ve somehow betrayed him, I feel any hope that he would allay my fears slipping away.
‘It took a lot for me to tell you about that, Kara,’ he goes on emotionally. ‘It’s not something I find easy to talk about.’
‘No. It wouldn’t be.’ I look suitably understanding. ‘So why did you?’
‘Because I felt I couldtrustyou.’ He looks at me as if he doesn’t understand why I don’t get it. ‘Because I wanted you to know that I felt I could.’
‘Of course. It’s just…’ I hesitate. But then, wondering whether that’s exactly how he wants me to feel – hesitant, constantly uncertain – I push on. ‘She was trying to tell me something about your parents when she died, and I can’t quite work out what it was.’
‘More bullshit,’ Jack mutters irritably. He picks up his glass and knocks back the remnants of his drink.
I brace myself. ‘Are they dead, Jack?’ I ask him outright. ‘Or is it you who’s full of bullshit?’
‘What?’ He looks up at me. ‘Are you saying you think I was making the whole thing up?’ he asks, his expression somewhere between incredulous and furious. ‘For Christ’s sake,whywould I?’
I don’t answer, waiting instead to see where he takes it.
‘Right.’ He bangs his glass down. ‘Well I’ll go and fetch the death certificates, shall I, since you obviouslydoprefer to believe her over me.’
‘I didn’t say that.’ I almost backtrack as he strides angrily past me. ‘I was just trying to clarify—’ I stop, my gaze shooting to the kitchen door as the front door slams.
‘Shit! Well done, Kara,’ Jack mutters, racing to the hall and yanking the door open. ‘Evie?’ he calls, stepping out. ‘Evie!’
Picking up the scrawled note left on the hall table, I breathe a sigh of relief. ‘She’s gone for a walk, that’s all.’ I show it to him, trying to reassure him.
He scans it, then snatches it from me and balls it in his fist. ‘To get away from the toxic atmosphere,’ he grates. ‘Again.’
‘Jack, wait.’ I follow him back inside, then falter, my heart jarring as I hear him muttering to himself as he strides across the lounge.
‘Tell me about it,’ he growls. ‘A bloke can’t bloody win no matter how hard he tries. I don’t know why you bother.’
‘Jack, where are you going?’ I stop at the foot of the stairs as he bounds up them.
‘Nowshe’s concerned,’ he answers, still talking to himself. Frighteningly. ‘To find the certificates,’ he shouts from the landing. ‘You obviously need proof I’m not the manipulative bully she says I am.’
Said, Jack. Said. She’s dead.My heart booms out a warning.
‘And a liar and a cheat,’ he goes on. ‘Don’t forget murderer. Yep, that too. For fuck’s sake, you can’t win, mate.’
My stomach constricts. Is he doing this deliberately, trying to scare me? I hear him bang into the bedroom. Seconds later, he’s crashing around, opening drawers and cupboards, slamming them shut. I’m frozen with indecision for a second, and then I goup after him. I can’t let him do this. Iwon’t. I’m growing terrified in my own home.
Bracing myself, I go into the bedroom and freeze as my gaze falls on Kai’s shoebox upturned on the floor, his Jellycat Louie Lion lying face-down next to it, just as it was before. I notice some of the drawers are still open, clothes hanging from them, and it hits me like a gut punch. It was Jack who’d come up here while I was sleeping.Why?I look towards where he stands at his wardrobe, his things strewn at his feet. His clothes, the old PC, paperwork from an expanding file he keeps in there.
He spins around as I step towards him. ‘They’re not here,’ he says, dumping more stuff on the floor. ‘Did she come up here? That insane cow I was married to, did she come up here?’ He shoots me a look I can’t quite read. Disillusionment? Contempt? My stomach roils. My blood pumps, thrumming hotly through my veins, as I begin to realise that Natalia might possibly have been saner than he is.
