Hair brushed, teeth cleaned, story read, by eight thirty they were in bed, and Jenna busied herself stacking the dishwasher, ironing their school uniforms and making their packed lunches to save her time the following morning.
By half past ten, she was feeling so sick she thought she might throw up, but there was anger, too. How dare he do this to her again?
She grabbed her phone, even though she’d promised herself she wouldn’t do it, and sent him a text message.
Where are you? I’m worried. You should have been back by four or thereabouts. Just let me know you’re okay.
She couldn’t even bring herself to add an ‘x’ even though she always did. She sat with the phone on her lap, trying to watch a film on television and doing her best to resist glancing repeatedly at the screen to check for a reply.
By eleven fifteen, she accepted defeat. She had to be up early for work the next day and even though she was pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to sleep until he got home, she’d have to try. She’d be no use to anyone if she was falling asleep during the day.
She picked up her phone, her stomach clenching as she saw that Joel had read the message over half an hour ago, but he hadn’t replied.
Shaking, she switched off the television. Then, turning off the lamp, she went resignedly up to bed.
2
The alarm clock went off at six thirty, but Jenna was already awake. She’d been awake most of the night, despite her best efforts to sleep, her ears straining for the sound of a car pulling up, of the key in the front door.
If Joel had returned during the snatched moments of sleep, he hadn’t come up to bed. The pillow beside her was unflattened, the sheet cold.
Fighting nausea and exhaustion, she forced herself to get out of bed and start the day. She didn’t have the luxury of hanging around. She had work, and the girls had school. She needed a shower to wake herself up properly, but first a quick glance at the phone.
There was nothing. No apology. No explanation.
Jenna hurled the phone onto the bed and hurried to the bathroom.
At seven o’clock, dressed and made up, she trudged downstairs and made herself a quick cup of instant coffee. She didn’t bother with her usual toast and marmalade. Her stomach was a knot of anxiety, and she felt as if she’d throw up if she even attempted to eat.
After drinking the coffee, while standing by the living room window staring out into the street, her ears alert for any sound of an approaching car, Jenna gave up and shouted upstairs to the twins, before making their breakfast.
They happily tucked into boiled eggs and toasted soldiers, followed by a bowl of Weetabix each. They were always ‘starving’ and Jenna liked to send them off to school with full tummies. As a teacher, she’d seen too many children arrive for their lessons hungry and tired, and it broke her heart. She always donated to the food bank and bought a couple of extra items for the collection box at the supermarket, but it never felt like enough.
‘Has Daddy already gone to work?’ Ada asked, her grey eyes wide with surprise. ‘We haven’t even seen him.’
‘What’s new?’ Hallie said, tutting. She gave an unconcerned shrug and spooned the last of the Weetabix into her mouth.
‘He had an early start,’ Jenna said, hating herself for lying to them but desperate to protect them. She didn’t want them to go to school worrying about their father’s whereabouts. ‘He said goodbye, though, and that he loves you very much.’
The twins exchanged glances but said nothing.
Jenna sat down at the table and gave them a warm smile. ‘So, are you excited? Last week of term. Just think, five more days and we’ll all be free!’
That did the trick. Joel was completely forgotten as the girls burst forth with ideas for what they planned to do during the holidays. Or rather, what they hopedshewould do during the holidays. They wanted her to take them swimming, they wanted her to make picnics, they wanted her to take them to the seaside…
‘Yes, well, let’s see what happens, shall we?’ she suggested, trying to sound excited, too, so as not to put a dampener on their enthusiasm. A nagging sense of doom tugged at her, and she couldn’t help feeling that the summer holidays would turn out to be far less pleasant than her daughters were hoping.
She glanced at the clock and gave a yelp. ‘Right, you two! Teeth cleaned please, then we need to go. I’ve got your packed lunches ready in your schoolbags. We’ve got five minutes, so jump to it.’
Jenna sacrificed her mid-morning coffee in the staffroom to find a spot in an empty classroom so she could ring Joel.
All morning she’d struggled to focus on her work, and she knew she couldn’t last all day without at least trying to find out what the hell her husband thought he was playing at.
She’d called him on the way to work, even though she’d sworn she wouldn’t. Having dropped the twins at primary school, she’d pulled over at the first convenient place and connected the call, but the phone just continued ringing until the voicemail message began. He wasn’t going to pick up so she didn’t leave a message.
Now, with her stomach spinning like a waltzer, she tried again. The same constant ringing. The voicemail message, formal and professional.
‘Hi, this is Joel Trent. Sorry I can’t take your call at the moment but if you leave your name and number, I’ll get back to you as soon as possible. Thank you.’
