Declan offered a small smile. “That’s good. That’s how you should feel. And, for what it’s worth, I meant every word, Kate. I’m going to think of every angle with this thing.”
I sniffled, wondering what I must look like at that moment.
“Do you need a tissue?” he asked, eyes twinkling.
I felt myself flush and a semi-hysterical giggle escaped my mouth. “Right. You really do think of every angle. Yes, please. A tissue would be great.”
He stood and crossed to a table upon which a box of Kleenex was perched. Bringing the entire box back, he offered it to me and grinned. “You might need more than one.”
I laughed, a real one this time. It was probably one of the first genuine laughs I had had in weeks, months even.
“Now, if you wouldn’t mind, once you’ve finished blowing your nose, do you think I could possibly speak to Rosie’s doctor? It’s time to get this show on the road.”
* * *
Madeleine winced as she listened to Tom banging around in the kitchen. She had no idea what he was doing and, frankly, she wished that she could take the kids and head to Harriet’s or Fiona’s for the night, but she was well aware of how that would look. Not to mention that she wouldn’t dream of disrupting their home life.
Her own was disrupted enough.
She and her husband had barely spoken since they had gotten home from their solicitor’s office. She thought that some of his fury would wear off, but, if anything, the situation had gotten worse. It seemed that the longer he had to stew, the more upset Tom became.
And it was obvious, despite his early reassurances, that he was now beginning to blame her for much of what had happened. “Why didn’t you keep her home from school that day when you knew she wasn’t well?” he’d muttered on the car journey home. “Did you really have to do that stupid TV interview?”
“Do you think I would have everdreamedof sending her anywhere if I truly thought she had measles?” Madeleine shot back, stung. “You had a choice yourself, Tom—you were the very one who pointed out that we couldn’t have known. She’s your daughter, too, and you could have just as easily made the decision to keep her home.”
“I know that. But, for God’s sake, Maddie, you’re the one who’s supposed to be—”
“Supposed to be what? The twenty-four-hour on-call parent? You were at the accountant’s meeting last month, you heard the pretax profit figures for my stupid little hobby. And have you already conveniently forgotten what happened only last week with the book deal? You know that my business is no longer just some kitchen-table thing, Tom, and Clara is your daughter, too. You basically made the same call, but the difference is, you’re not beating yourself up about it.”
Now Madeleine recalled the look that Rebecca Kelly, one of the other Applewood mothers, had given her outside the school that very morning, as Clara and Jake jumped out of the car. She had been just about to call out a hello but then decided not to—due to the outright disdain she’d seen written all over the woman’s face.
Had word already gotten out about Kate’s lawsuit? Surely not.
Then her thoughts drifted to Lucy. Madeleine had been keeping a distance from her friend these last few days. Firstly, because she needed a little space to process her own thoughts about the lawsuit, and, secondly, because she couldn’t be sure whose side Lucy was actually on. She must have been the one who’d told Kate or Christine Campbell that she had intentionally sent a feverish Clara to school.
She recalled, too, how her friend had played down her early suggestions about contacting Kate or visiting her daughter, protesting that it wasn’t the best time. Had Lucy known all along that Rosie’s mum was intending to make a case against her and Tom?
Madeleine was well aware that Tom certainly felt an amount of prejudice against Lucy at the moment. Primarily because she knew that he knew she was not only Madeleine’s friend, but also a close confidante of Kate’s.
But would her friend truly land her in it like that? Madeleine didn’t think so. Lucy wasn’t the type to stir up trouble. More likely it was Christine who had been in Kate’s ear—especially when it seemed Kate’s solicitor was Christine’s younger cousin. Madeleine didn’t know the guy personally, given that the family weren’t from town, but surely the cousin wasn’t so stupid as to waste the court’s time by issuing nonsensical lawsuits.
And maybe Rebecca’s reaction that morning had nothing at all to do with Rosie’s situation; maybe the woman was just having a bad day.
In fact, it was very likely Madeleine’s own mind was playing tricks on her at the moment because she was extra sensitive. No, Lucy would never betray her like that, she was sure of it, and right now she had to trust the people who were close to her, not push them away.
She opened her laptop and logged into her blog with a relieved sigh. Here at least was a space she felt more in control, and where the stress and strains of the outside world didn’t seem to penetrate.
Given the fallout with the summons, it had been several days since she had updated anything onMad Mum’s blog or social media, and she felt guilty about that.
As expected, her notifications and messages were through the roof and, for once, she felt happy to throw herself into the effort of attending to them all and immersing herself in her audience.
Madeleine was again so grateful that, as always, she had this outlet to blow off steam and just...lose herself in the mundane.
Thank goodness for the internet.
23
Emotional distress. Discriminatory treatment. Loss of enjoyment. Recklessness. Those were just the general damages. Then there were the special damages. Medical costs. Lost income. Out-of-pocket expenses. Defamation.
