SUNDAY, AUGUST 18, 2013
AFTERNOON
Anna turns on her heel and runs into the house thesecond she sees him. My heart hammering againstmy ribs, I follow cautiously, stopping just short of thesliding doors. Inside, they are embracing, his armsenveloping her, the child between them. Anna’s headis bent, her shoulders shaking. His mouth is pressedto the top of her scalp, but his eyes are on me.
“What’s going on here, then?” he asks, the trace ofa smile on his lips. “I have to say that finding youtwo ladies gossiping in the garden when I got homewas not what I expected.”
His tone is light, but he’s not fooling me. He’s notfooling me anymore. I open my mouth to speak, butI find that I don’t have the words. I have nowhereto start.
“Rachel? Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
He relinquishes Anna from his grasp and takes astep towards me. I take a step back, and he startsto laugh.
“What on earth’s wrong with you? Are you drunk?”
he asks, but I can see in his eyes that he knows I’msober and I’m betting that for once he wishes Iwasn’t. I slip my hand into the back pocket of myjeans—my phone is there, hard and compact andcomforting, only I wish I’d had the sense to makethe call already. No matter whether they believed meor not, if I’d told them I was with Anna and herchild, the police would have come.
Tom is now just a couple of feet away fromme—he’s just inside the door and I’m just outside it.
“I saw you,” I say at last, and I feel euphoria,fleeting but unmistakable, when I say the words outloud. “You think I don’t remember anything, but Ido. I saw you. After you hit me, you left me there,in the underpass?.?.?.”
He starts to laugh, but I can see it now and Iwonder how I never read him this easily before.
There’s panic in his eyes. He shoots a glance atAnna, but she doesn’t meet his eye.
“What are you talking about?”
“In the underpass. On the day Megan Hipwell wentmissing?.?.?.”
“Oh, bullshit,” he says, waving a hand at me. “I didnot hit you. You fell.” He reaches for Anna’s handand pulls her closer to him. “Darling, is this whyyou’re so upset? Don’t listen to her, she’s talkingabsolute rubbish. I didn’t hit her. I’ve never laid ahand on her in my life. Not like that.” He puts hisarm around Anna’s shoulders and pulls her closerstill. “Come on. I’ve told you how she is. She doesn’tknow what happens when she drinks, she makes upthe most—”
“You got into the car with her. I watched you go.”
He’s still smiling, but there’s no longer any convictionthere, and I don’t know whether I’m imagining it, buthe looks a little paler to me now. He relaxes his gripon Anna, releasing her once again. She sits down atthe table, her back to her husband, her daughtersquirming on her lap.
Tom passes his hand over his mouth and leansback against the kitchen counter, folding his armsacross his chest. “You saw me get into the car withwho?”
“With Megan.”
“Oh, right!” He starts laughing again, a loud, forcedroar. “Last time we talked about this, you told meyou saw me get into the car with Anna. Now it’sMegan, is it? Who’s it going to be next week?
Princess Diana?”
Anna looks up at me. I can see the doubt, thehope, flash across her face. “You’re not sure?” sheasks.
Tom drops to his knees at her side. “Of course sheisn’t sure. She’s making this up—she does it all thetime. Sweetheart, please. Why don’t you go upstairsfor a bit, OK? I’ll talk this through with Rachel. Andthis time”—he glances up at me—“I promise I’ll makesure she won’t bother us anymore.”
Anna’s wavering, I can see it—the way she’s lookingat him, searching his face for the truth, his eyesintently on hers. “Anna!” I call out, trying to bringher back to me. “You know. You know he’s lying.
You know that he was sleeping with her.”
For a second, no one says a thing. Anna looksfrom Tom to me and back again. She opens hermouth to say something, but no words come.
“Anna! What does she mean? There’s?.?.?. there wasnothing between me and Megan Hipwell.”
“I found the phone, Tom,” she says, her voice sosmall, she’s almost inaudible. “So please, don’t. Don’tlie. Just don’t lie to me.”
The child starts to grizzle and moan. Very gently,Tom takes her from Anna’s arms. He walks acrossto the window, rocking his daughter from side toside, murmuring to her all the while. I can’t hearwhat he’s saying. Anna’s head is bowed, tearsdripping from her chin onto the kitchen table.
“Where is it?” Tom says, turning to face us, thelaughter gone from his face. “The phone, Anna. Didyou give it to her?” He jerks his head in mydirection. “Do you have it?”
“I don’t know anything about a phone,” I tell him,wishing that Anna had mentioned this earlier.
Tom ignores me. “Anna? Did you give it to her?”
Anna shakes her head.
“Where is it?”
“I threw it away,” she says. “Over the fence. By thetrack.”
“Good girl. Good girl,” he says distractedly. He’strying to figure things out, work out where to gofrom here. He glances at me and then looks away.
For just a moment, he looks beaten.
He turns to Anna. “You were so tired all the time,”
he says. “You just weren’t interested. Everything wasabout the baby. Isn’t that right? It was all about you,wasn’t it? All about you!” And just like that, he’s ontop again, perked up, pulling faces at his daughter,tickling her tummy, making her smile. “And Meganwas so?.?.?. well, she was available.
“At first, it was over at her place,” he says. “Butshe was so paranoid about Scott finding out. So westarted meeting at the Swan. It was?.?.?. Well, youremember what it was like, don’t you, Anna? At thebeginning, when we used to go to that house onCranham Road. You understand.” He glances backover his shoulder at me and winks. “That’s whereAnna and I used to meet, back in the good olddays.”
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