‘Good because you’re not having it back either way.’
‘Just like William said,’ I said, closing my eyes as he steered us along to the exit to the service station. ‘Never change.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
It was almost nine o’clock when I heard the doorbell go.
‘Who is it?’ Charlotte asked, lying on her belly on my living room floor.
‘I don’t know, I’m not psychic.’
‘You don’t have a Ring camera?’ she scoffed without looking away from the TV. ‘Caveman.’
There was no need to tell her I did but I’d forgotten to charge it before I left to meet Malcolm on Thursday morning and next-door’s cat had been having the time of its life, chasing foxes around all weekend long and draining the battery. She was sure to find that even more mortifying than the idea of my primitive, Ring-less existence.
She rolled over with a steely look on her pretty face.
‘Do you want me to get it? In case it’s him?’
‘It’s OK, I’ll get it,’ I said, closing my laptop and heaving myself off the sofa. Other than the chicken nuggets and spontaneous sibling road trip, one good thing had come out of today. I’d never felt so inspiredto finish my sequel. As soon as the worst possible version of events happened in real life, it was very clear what I wanted to happen in the book.
‘Bring him in and I’ll defend you to the death,’ she promised. ‘I know how to hide a body, I’ve listened to “No Body, No Crime” so many times. Where’s the nearest lake?’
‘Actually very close,’ I replied as I tiptoed along the hall to the front door trying not to give myself away to whoever was outside.
Four hours had passed since Joe had given up calling. Three since William set off back to Harford, leaving Charlotte with me supposedly for some unplanned sisterly bonding time but we all knew it was because they didn’t want to leave me on my own, even if we wouldn’t admit it, and because we wouldn’t admit it, I couldn’t say how much I appreciated it.
Frozen in front of the door, I shook myself down, cricking my neck from side to side like a boxer on his way into the ring. Joe could be right there, just a couple of feet in front of me, nothing but one relatively flimsy bit of wood between us. Would he bang on the door with the side of his fist if I didn’t answer? Would he try, and probably succeed, to kick it down? He didn’t strike me as a fall-on-the-floor-sobbing sort but I could imagine him standing in the doorway with fire in his eyes, demanding I hear him out. Yes, he was married to a really fit, super-talented Canadian editor from Knoll, but now he realised he’d never truly understood love until he met me. I would fight him at first, still burned by his lies, but he would sweep me off my feet and carry me upstairs, the bond between us too powerful to deny. Until he slipped on the loose bit of carpet atthe top, fell backwards and we both broke our necks and died.
It would be all I deserved for even entertaining such a stupid theory.
‘Time to switch to writing fantasy,’ I mumbled, wiping both hands over my tired face.
When the doorbell rang again, I realised I wanted it to be him more than I didn’t. I didn’t know what I would say but that was OK, I just needed to know he was real, that I hadn’t imagined the whole thing. When I unlocked the door and opened it slowly, I felt my heart drop when I saw who was standing there.
‘Oh good, you are alive,’ Mum said with an expectant look, waiting for me to move to the side and let her in. Out on the street, Dad waved from inside the car and I raised a slow hand to wave back.
‘If you’ve come for Charlotte,’ I started, leading Mum into the living room. ‘Please take her because she’s gone insane. Charlotte, where did you get a baseball bat?’
‘Brought it with me. It was part of my Harley Quinn Halloween costume the other year,’ she explained, standing in the middle of the room bouncing a baseball bat against her palm. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I came to talk to your sister.’
If our mother was fazed by her youngest daughter wielding a weapon, she didn’t show it. ‘Why don’t you go and wait in the car.’
‘Because I’m staying here with Sophie like I told you on the phone.’
‘If that’s all right with Sophie, it’s all right with me,’ Mum replied, looking to me for my confirming nod. ‘Go and tell your dad. He’s got a bag of foul neon orangesnacks in there and I’d rather he didn’t consume the whole thing himself, birthday weekend or not.’
Charlotte didn’t even stop to put on her shoes. So much for defending me to the death. I needed someone to protect me from my mother way more than I needed someone to protect me against Joe.
‘Place looks nice,’ Mum said as she settled down on the settee, testing the cushions with a splayed hand. ‘Is this new?’
‘New since you were last here.’
When was that? I couldn’t remember. Neither she nor my father veered from the Harford to London route if they could help it these days. Mostly I went to them or we met in town and ever since I signed my book deal, my visits to them were less regular than usual. Still, I could count on one hand the number of times she’d been to my house.
‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ I said, starting for the kitchen when she cleared her throat to speak.
