My Husband's Girlfriend - Sheryl Browne Page 0,46

to herself, for now. Meanwhile, she would do a little digging. She’d taken Laura at face value. Steve had too. Joe had been won over, smiling readily at her when they’d picked Ollie up; Sarah supposed most people would be, with that air of vulnerability she had about her. Laura had stammered when she’d spoken to him, she recalled. Why would that be? Because she was nervous because he was a policeman? Or because she’d been attracted to him?

She acknowledged that the green-eyed monster might now be rearing its head, but decided not to beat herself up about that either. She wouldn’t apologise for being human. Nor would she apologise for wanting to protect her child. She needed to find out all she could about Laura. Some indication of what had caused the rift between her and her mother, for a start. Also whether there was any truth to what Laura had told her about her previous controlling relationship. There was bound to be some hint of who she really was online. And if there wasn’t, why not? Everyone had an online profile of some sort, a trail of life events left behind them. Even Steve, who wasn’t much into Facebook other than to set up his business page, had an online presence.

After invigilating a meet-and-greet session, where, sadly, the prospective new owners of a Labrador cross were completely overwhelmed by his boisterousness, she went to check on the puppy-farm Jack Russell rescue, who’d been brought in half starved and riddled with ticks, worms and fleas.

‘Hey there, little Dot,’ she said, going carefully into the dog’s kennel. It had taken her ages to gain her trust enough to do that. For days after she’d come to them, the poor thing had shaken uncontrollably and cowered in the corner whenever anyone had gone near her. She would need special owners, people with experience of JRs who had lots of time to devote to her and would understand the amount of care she would need. ‘You’ve put on a little weight, haven’t you, gorgeous, hmm?’ She spoke to the dog softly, her heart swelling with love for the tiny animal that had probably never known human kindness.

Approaching her cautiously, she bent to gently pet her and was delighted when she was rewarded with a nervous wag of her tail. ‘You’ll be okay, girl,’ she assured her, as the dog lapped at her hand and then looked up at her, her huge chocolate-brown eyes full of uncertain hope. ‘I’ll make sure you are, I promise.’

Her chest constricting with a mixture of determination and anger at the way little Dot had been treated, she spent another few minutes with her, feeding her nutritious treats. She wasn’t a bad person. She was not getting things out of perspective, wanting to rubbish Laura out of spitefulness, insecurity or jealousy. It just wasn’t who she was. She didn’t need to prove that to herself. She did need to prove it to Steve, though, for their son’s sake. She also needed to trust her instincts. They were too strong to be ignored.

Fetching her lunch and her PC from her car, she went to the small office set aside for form-filling and paperwork. Ten minutes later, having checked Instagram first, she found what she wanted on FB. There were a few people with the name Laura Collins, but the Laura she was looking for was unmistakable, with her long mane of rich auburn hair. Snatching a bite of her sandwich, she scrolled down. The profile hadn’t been updated for over a year. The most recent photos posted were mostly wild flowers and landscapes; impersonal stuff, giving nothing away. Glancing through them, she paused at a photo of an orange sunset dated almost two years ago, with the caption A New Chapter in My Life. There were previous chapters, then? Gulping down a mouthful of food she had no taste for, she wiped her fingers and scrolled on, skipping through random reposts and pictures of cute animals – and then froze.

There was no mistaking that the woman looking back at her was Laura, her hair slightly shorter, a smile dancing in her eyes. No mistaking either that the blonde-haired, blue-eyed child she was crouching beside bore an uncanny resemblance to Ollie. Her heart lurching, Sarah stared hard at the photograph.

Who was this child? Her stomach twisted in confusion as she scanned a plethora of photographs, mostly of the little boy – Liam, she learned: Liam on a slide in the

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