On the one hand, Niall might hate her for spying on him. He might be furious.
On the other hand, she had to know what the message said.
Had to.
Oh please don’t let it be bad…
She pressed it.
OMG, best weekend ever!!! When can we do it again? (And again and again!!!!!) Call me asap.
Lots of love, V xxxxx
No, please no. Roo whimpered with fear, her brain struggling to take in the significance of the words. She felt sick… as if she might actually be sick. Across the landing she could hear Niall opening the shower door, stepping out onto the tiled floor. She couldn’t confront him; her head wasn’t ready yet. There was a loud buzzing in her ears, he’d be out of the bathroom in less than forty seconds, there wasn’t time for anything now, he had to be back at work…
OK, get rid of the message. Breathless and fumbling, her fingers suddenly as huge as sausages, Roo pressed and pressed the necessary buttons. She clutched the phone to her chest to mute the tinkly notes it emitted with each new action. Finally the message was deleted, vanished, gone forever. Almost as if she’d imagined it, except she knew she hadn’t. Clumsily and in the nick of time she slipped the phone back into Niall’s trouser pocket. Then the bathroom door opened and he reappeared, vigorously toweling himself dry with her favorite lilac towel.
Roo blurted out, ‘I need the loo,’ and hurried past him.
By the time she re-emerged, he was fully dressed and ready to rush off.
‘I don’t want to go.’ He planted a perfunctory kiss on her mouth, at the same time patting his jacket pockets. ‘But I have to. Shit, where’s my phone?’
She stood there and let him find it, saw the momentary look of anxiety change to one of relief as he pulled the mobile out of his trouser pocket and instinctively checked the screen. No new messages. Cool. He shot her a confident smile and said, ‘Right, I’m off. I’ll see you tomorrow, OK?’
‘Yes.’ Her voice sounded high and strange, but Niall didn’t notice. He ruffled her hair then raced downstairs, let himself out of the house, and—woop, click, clunk—jumped into his car.
Frozen to the spot, Roo listened to the sound of it disappearing off up the road. Her brain was still fizzing over, making rational thought impossible. Less than ten minutes ago, she’d had a boyfriend that she adored. OK, so he had a wife and baby, but other than that he’d been close to perfect.
And now, thanks to one little text, her whole world had been turned upside down. Because try as she might, she was having trouble coming up with a convincing explanation as to how it might not mean what it appeared to mean.
Five minutes later, still perspiring but no longer in a good way, she’d managed to track down Vivica on Google. Yet another example of the miracle of technology doing something incredibly clever, yet you couldn’t help wishing sometimes that it wouldn’t. Life had surely been simpler, easier, and less wracked with pain before the advent of the Internet.
Vivica + ‘Broughton and Wingfield Associates’ on Google Images had brought up three photos of Vivica Mellon being presented with a trophy for achieving outstanding sales figures last year. She looked like a saleswoman too. Her shiny dark hair was cut in an efficient bob, she used red lipstick and lipliner, and she was wearing a navy crimplene trouser suit.
OK, the crimplene bit probably wasn’t true but it made Roo feel better to think it. The look of stop-at-nothing triumph on Vivica’s heart-shaped face told her all she needed to know about her character. If she worked in a shop and you wanted a pint of milk, she wouldn’t let you out again until you’d bought the fridge.
Was it her?
Was she sleeping with Niall?
Was it all happening again?
Shaking, Roo switched off the laptop. She couldn’t bear it. All her life she’d fallen for men who started off perfect and morphed into bastards. Time after time, one way or another, they’d let her down and broken her heart. Trampled on it.
Meeting Niall, she’d really thought she’d hit the jackpot. This time, at last, it would be different.
Then, once he’d captured her, he’d told her he was married.
Which wasn’t great, admittedly, but there were excellent reasons why he was being unfaithful to his wife.