‘Are you okay to walk so far in your heels?’
That’s the thing about my husband – he’s considerate. ‘To be honest, I can’t even feel my feet any more. We can walk slowly.’
‘Okay.’
We exit the warmth of the clubhouse and step out into the cold night-scented air – pine trees and woodsmoke tinged with exhaust fumes and the distant salt-tang of the sea. Crossing the gravel car park, we head out onto the wide pavement in silence. Not touching any more. Our footsteps loud on the pavement, our shoes clipping along in the quiet night.
‘Gemma…’ he stops walking for a moment, but I keep going, so he’s forced to catch up. ‘I didn’t do anything with Sadie. I wouldn’t do that. I thought you knew I would never do that.’
I want to say,But what about her perfume, and her hair?But I don’t. Instead I say, ‘I think we should get rid of her.’
‘Because you think I did something?’
‘No. Because… I don’t know. Because I think that since she’s come into our lives I haven’t been able to relax.’
‘What about Eva’s entrance exams? They’re in a few weeks. She needs Sadie to help her through it or she might not get in. And look at our work situation – unless you can cut back on your hours at the office, we need her. She’s giving us more time in our lives. Don’t you remember what it was like before she was here? Everything was so chaotic. No time to breathe – Katie going missing, Eva getting into trouble at school because we didn’t have time to even wash her PE kit. It wasn’t all roses before Sadie.’
‘And you think it’s all roses now?’
‘Life isn’t roses, Gemma. We just have to do what we can to make it okay. And I think it’s betterwithher than without her – I mean, in a practical way.’
I know Robert is right, but I can’t stand the thought of that woman in our house any more. I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place. If I confront Sadie, either she’ll leave or I’ll end up firing her and then Eva will be left with no tutor to get her through the exam. And I’ll be back to square one trying to juggle running a business with managing my home life. We won’t be able to find a replacement in time.
For the sake of Eva, I need to stick it out a few weeks longer. I can do that. I can hold on until then, can’t I? In the meantime, I’ll rework my business schedule and make more of an effort to find a new manager so I can spend more time at home.
It’ll be fine.
I hope.
Forty-One
This weekend has been tense to say the least.
Gemma and Robert are awkward around one another. Perfectly polite, but their easy banter has disappeared. They’re acting like strangers. I breeze through the house as though entirely oblivious. But in reality, I’m paying close attention. Picking up on every nuance of their floundering relationship. Of course, I would have preferred for them to have a blazing row with yelling and screaming and things being thrown across the room. But their relationship doesn’t appear to be rooted in passion. It’s boring and staid. Drab. Perhaps this civilised ignoring of one another is their version of a fight.
Did they even talk about the intrusion into their bedroom? Did Gemma bring up the question of why my scent was all over her bedding? Did she accuse Robert in her calm, rational way? Or is she stewing over it, letting her suspicions eat her up from the inside? It’s so frustrating not knowing what she’s thinking. The only inkling I have that she noticed is the fact that she stripped off their bedding on Friday night and replaced it with clean sheets.
In the meantime, I’m nice as pie, sweet as honey, innocent as a new day. I won’t let her find fault with my work. I won’t let her kick me out.
If anyone does the kicking out, it will be me.
Forty-Two
I’m at my desk in the office on Monday afternoon when I have an epiphany. I should probably give myself a few days to think about this epiphany. Take time to consider my new idea. But I can’t see any downsides and I actually think this could be the perfect solution. Eva’s education is important to me, but I’m not prepared to put my family at risk. After Friday night’s argument, Robert and I are back on an even-ish keel, but things could be better. I need to spend more time at home.
I get up and pop my head round my office door. ‘Damien, can you come in here for a second?’
‘Sure.’ He follows me into my office, where I gesture for him to take a seat. He does so with his notepad and pen in his hand – always prepared.
‘How are we doing with the next batch of interview candidates?’ I ask.
‘I’m sorting through them now.’
‘Anyone stand out?’
He screws up his face. ‘Maybe a couple who could be trained up. But no one who really stands out, no.’
‘How long have you been with me, Damien?’
