him to set off. Once he’s striding away down the street I turn and head in the other direction, even though the tube is the way he’s walking. I circle the block and double back on myself once I’m sure he’s gone.
There’s no one about, and the street lights cast an eerie glow. I pick up my pace, eyes scanning ahead, looking for alleyways, doorways, anywhere someone could jump out at me from. I decide to walk close to the parked cars.
I’m nearly at the end of the street when one of the cars’ headlights suddenly come on. I jump out of my skin.
I’d been walking up the road towards it and hadn’t seen anyone else. No one had got in or out of the car. They must have been sitting there. Waiting. But for what?
I don’t want to get any closer. My whole body’s on alert. Standing still, I watch as the car manoeuvres out of the space and then speeds past me.
Then I recognise the person in the driver’s seat.
Beth.
Forty-One
Beth
The lavender scent of the candle fills the room as I take the photos out of the envelope and lay them on the coffee table, lining them up neatly: Danielle and Richard walking side by side along the street. Him hugging her. The two of them kissing outside the university.
I’ve dressed carefully in my favourite casual blue and white striped dress, accessorised with the delicate silver teardrop earrings that Richard bought me for our fifth anniversary. I want Danielle to really see me, realise that I’m a real person too, not just someone who listens to her talk about her life every week. That I’m also someone with a life and hopes and dreams. I want her to see that she broke up my relationship, heartlessly caused my life to fall apart.
All week I’ve been thinking of the best way to confront her. I thought about going to her home, or embarrassing her in front of her colleagues. But here, in this tiny room, with Peter, will be perfect. I can’t wait to see his expression when he sees the photos. The shock. I imagine the embarrassment on Danielle’s face, the flush of shame.
I’m looking forward to telling him that I don’t think it’s his baby. I looked up the course Danielle went on with Richard. The timings fit. He was teaching her almost exactly the same time as she’s meant to have conceived.
Charlie’s staying at Richard’s flat tonight, so I have the house completely to myself. I don’t want him to overhear if things get heated.
At 8 p.m., I’m pacing up and down the hallway, waiting for them to arrive, preparing my smile. Usually they arrive on time, so when it gets to ten past eight I start to get nervous. Perhaps they aren’t coming. I feel a shiver of disappointment.
And then the doorbell goes.
Glancing at myself in the hallway mirror as I go to the door, I smile at my reflection. I am ready.
I see the shadow in the frosted glass and pull the door open, stretching my face into a smile.
But it falls from my face when I see who it is. Just Peter, his bulky frame filling the doorway.
‘Where’s Danielle?’ I ask.
His eyes flash. ‘She’s not coming. She’s not coming back here ever again. I won’t let her have anything to do with you.’
I stare at him, shocked.
He steps over the threshold into the house before I can react, towering over me.
‘She told me you’d been following her,’ he says.
‘I haven’t—’
‘She saw you. In your car outside her office. She was afraid.’
‘I was just passing by.’
‘What do you want from her? Are you obsessed with her? Is that it?’
‘No – I—’ I think about telling him that she stole my husband, taking him upstairs and showing him the photos. But I don’t think he’ll believe me.
‘What kind of therapist are you? You know Danielle’s vulnerable. She’s pregnant. And you do this.’
‘I – I wanted to help her. I wanted to help you both.’
‘No, you didn’t. I can see right through you. The questions you ask. Making her doubt herself. Telling her she’ll have mental health problems like her mother. You’re no good for her at all.’
He looks me up and down as if I’m completely pathetic. His face is too close to me, his breath on my cheek. I remember how the boyfriend I was seeing before Nick used to hold me up against the wall, use me as a punchbag. Suddenly I’m aware that