He wants me to know that he will only tolerate this situation for a certain amount of time. I’m fine with that. By the time I’m done with him, he’ll wish he’d never met me.
‘Right, well, I’ll just get the children a snack and—’
He snatches the tumblers out of my hands. Our fingertips meet, our eyes locking together. There’s a darkness there that tells me everything I need to know about what Jack Downey thinks of me.
‘As I said,’ he hisses, barely able to conceal his contempt for me, ‘we can manage here just fine. Please leave.’
I step closer to him, lean in and place my lips against his ear. ‘Don’t worry, I’m leaving. But tomorrow, I’ll be back. And then I’ll be here the day after that and the day after that, ad nauseum. Don’t forget our deal.’ I am so close I could kiss his cheek and run my lips over his neck, my mouth brushing against the designer stubble on his chin.
‘See you tomorrow, Jack.’ I am sorely tempted to give him a wink but think better of it. Men like Jack Downey will only take so much before their egos get in the way and they do things they later regret. Besides, I need the rest of my money.
Instead, I drape my jacket over my shoulders, pick up my bag and head out of the door, closing it behind me with a soft click.
23PETER
‘I can pick you up from your place if you like?’ He is leaning back in his chair, his desk littered with notes and bits of paper. He really needs to tidy it but as a tiresome, mundane job, it always seems to slip down to the bottom of his to-do list. Alice fills his mind these days: the scent of her hair, the twinkling in her eyes as she smiles at him. The softness of her naked skin. It’s all he can think about, stirring up his blood, desire running through him like flickering flames, setting every nerve ending on fire until he feels as if he is about to combust.
‘No, honestly it’s fine. I don’t mind getting a taxi. I’ll meet you there, shall we say at 8 p.m.?’ Her voice has a calming effect on him, like warm oil being gently massaged into his skin.
‘8 p.m. sounds perfect. Are you sure you don’t want picking up?’
‘Absolutely certain. You get ready at your leisure and I’ll see you at eight o’clock.’
He puts down his phone and barely has time to ruminate over how amazing it is that he and Alice have clicked together in such a short space of time before his emails start pouring in and his mobile rings, pushing all thoughts of his new relationship to the back of his mind.
The rest of the afternoon is spent reassuring customers that their machine parts are on delivery and that they have no reason to worry about the whole factory line grinding to a halt as he can promise faithfully that their actuator will arrive promptly next morning and yes, he will deliver it himself if need be.
Lauren is standing behind him as he turns around, her slim frame filling the doorway. ‘Just wondering what you fancy eating tonight?’
‘Ah,’ he replies meekly, remembering that he hasn’t told Lauren about his plans for tonight. ‘Sorry, I should have said something. I’m meeting Alice tonight. We’re eating in town. Really sorry. Completely slipped my mind to let you know.’ He stares at his inbox, which piling higher by the minute, and sighs ruefully.
‘Don’t be sorry!’ Her face lights up at the mention of Alice’s name. ‘I’m so glad you’re seeing her again. Anyway, it means there’s more food for me if you’re not here to scoff it all.’
She walks into the room and places her arms around his shoulders, hugging him close to her. It’s been a long time since they have done something like, this – joked, chatted about inconsequential things and laughed together. It’s getting easier for them both. He can just feel it. They have Alice to thank for that. She has eased the burden of worry and sorrow that they had been carrying around, made their days that little bit brighter.
He shuts his eyes briefly, aware that he is trying to hold himself back with Alice, not come across as too eager or pushy when he’s in her presence but it’s so damn difficult. His heart is racing ahead of his logic, blotting out all rational thinking. Sometimes, love doesn’t need rationalising. It is what it is and that’s all he needs to know.
‘I won’t be late back. Got an early start in the morning.’
‘Take as long as you like. Sod work. They did nothing to help you after Mum died, ringing you to ask when you were going back in and sending you emails when you should have been left alone to grieve.’
Peter knows that she’s right. Steve, his manager took it upon himself to badger him every four or five days, asking how he was coping, throwing in the odd comment about how busy they were in the office and how stressful it was picking up the slack in his absence. Peter went back to work just three weeks after Sophia died. It was as if he had never been away. He didn’t attend the court proceedings leading up to Kennedy being prosecuted and waited until the day of sentencing before he showed his face. Both he and his daughter were too wrapped up in their misery to put themselves through any more trauma. They were both filled with relief when it was all over and they could stop reading about it in the local paper.
Afterwards, he mentally blocked it all out, wanting to forget Phillip Kennedy’s name, what he looked like, who he really was. So, Lauren is correct. He owes work nothing. If anything, they are indebted to him for giving up his time and devoting it to them when he should have been allowed to be at home with his family. And yet, part of him didn’t mind. It stopped him thinking, analysing. Feeling guilty every single day. It helped mask the memory of that evening. The one that a year on, he simply cannot forget.
‘Have you got any plans for tonight?’ He squeezes Lauren’s hand and stands up, keen to clear his mind, to shelve his thoughts and erase all thoughts of Sophia from his mind.
‘Me? Nah. A quiet night in with a soppy movie, I think. Where are you going for food?’
‘Just to Metori’s in town. Nothing too fancy and no drinking as I’m driving.’
‘I can take you and pick you up, you know.’
He laughs and taps her hand. ‘I promise you, the next time I go out anywhere, you can drive my car.’
‘Well,’ she says, raising her eyebrows and turning to leave, ‘you know where I am if you want that lift.’
Alice, he thinks, is just Alice – her usual, relaxed, affable self, full of smiles and good cheer. She makes his heart sing. In a matter of a few weeks, he feels lighter than he has in an entire year.
They eat and chat. She drinks two glasses of wine then asks for juice. He sticks to the soft stuff all evening and before he knows it, time has passed and they’re ready to leave. She insists on paying her fair share and he relents. The last thing he wants is a showdown over money in the middle of a restaurant. There is too much riding on this relationship, too much at stake. He doesn’t want to lose her. He does, he abruptly thinks with a jolt, love her. The realisation washes over him in great, fluctuating waves. It’s soon. Too soon, he supposes, but does love have a timeframe? Are there parameters that can be rigidly applied to it?
‘Since you’ve paid your share of the bill, I insist on taking you home.’
She tries to argue but he holds up his hand and refuses to back down.
‘No ifs or buts. There is no way I want you getting into a cab on your own when I can drop you off at your door.’ He takes her hand and guides her towards his vehicle parked on the opposite side of the road, thinking how easy and effortless this all is. How he wishes he had met her before now.
The evening is warm, only the slightest of chills slipping over their skin as they cross and he opens the door for her to get in.
‘Your carriage awaits.’
She lowers herself into the seat and he closes the door and slips into the driver’s side. The conversation is stilted, Alice unusually reserved as they set off. He tries to glance in her direction, to work out why her mood has dipped and why she is now quiet and low-key but her thoughts appear to be elsewhere, her attention unobtainable.
‘Just drop me off at the corner of Walworth Avenue. I can walk from there. Getting parked is a bit of a nightmare if I’m being honest, so the corner is just fine.’ She relaxes and in his peripheral vision, he can see that she is smiling, her eyes fixed on his face as he concentrates on the road ahead. The fear he felt only seconds earlier dissolves. Everything is fine. They are fine. He has to stop this, constantly looking for flaws and negatives, waiting for the time when she ends their relationship.
‘I’d rather drop you off at your door, make sure you get home safely.’
