and talk about something – what was I going to talk about? My brain has stopped working. I yank open one of the kitchen drawers and shove the photos and envelope beneath some tea towels, trying to get my breathing under control.
I manage to close the drawer just as Ed comes into the kitchen. Then, like some kind of cliché, I wipe my brow. I need to compose myself before I turn around. Taking a deep breath, I smudge away a stray tear, but I can’t bring myself to turn and look at Ed just yet.
‘Are we having a coffee?’ he asks. ‘I’ve got to leave for work in twenty minutes.’
‘Yep, just making it.’ I walk unsteadily over to the cupboard and pull out two cups.
‘How did it go at school?’
School? And then it comes back to me – I spoke to the deputy head earlier about Rosie. About those boys saying that awful thing about me. Was that really only half an hour ago? It feels like a week. And it seems almost trivial compared with the revelation of the photos. But then, are the pictures even real? Maybe they’ve been photoshopped. Yes, that’s probably it. I’ll have to examine the photos more closely, but that has to be the answer. But who would do such a thing, and why?
Why do awful things always have to happen at the same time? First that terrible rumour at school, and now these photos. Could my week get any worse?
‘Tia?’ Ed comes around the counter.
I turn and manage to smile. ‘Hey, yeah, it was a bit…’ I shrug, realising my voice is higher than usual and I sound like a crazy person.
‘Hey, you okay? Sit down, I’ll finish making the coffee.’
‘Are you sure? Thanks.’ I take a seat at the kitchen table. My left leg seems to be shaking uncontrollably so I try to still it with my hand. All I can think about is those photographs in the kitchen drawer, the images imprinted on my brain. I cast my mind back to the night in question. Try to remember what happened. But it’s all a bit of a blur.
The sound of a drawer opening makes my stomach lurch. I stand up suddenly. What if Ed opens that drawer and sees the photos? ‘Ed, sit down! It’s okay, I’ll finish making it!’
He gives me an odd look and waves a teaspoon at me. ‘It’s fine, I’m done.’
I sit back down and attempt to breathe normally, convinced my husband must be able to hear my heart banging against my ribcage. I need to make normal conversation until I figure out what I’m going to do. ‘So how did your shift go last night? Sorry I forgot to ask about it earlier. You had that big birthday booking.’
‘Yeah, it was good. Everyone seemed to like the new menu.’ Ed brings our drinks to the table and sits opposite me.
I need to respond. To carry on with our conversation as though nothing’s wrong. But my mind is filled with those shocking images.
‘How did it go with Rosie’s teacher this morning.’
‘I… uh.’ Focus, Tia. My mind flits from the photos to my meeting this morning. ‘I didn’t get to speak to Mr Jeffries. He was with Rosie’s class, so I had to talk to the new deputy head instead. She didn’t seem to take it seriously at all.’
‘Really? Why, what did she say?’
‘Not a lot. Just some crap like she’ll see what she can do. Trying to fob me off.’
‘I hope you told her what’s what.’
‘I tried, but she made me feel like I was making a mountain out of a molehill. But then she didn’t see how upset Rosie was yesterday. And also, how would she like it if kids were going around calling her a murderer? She’d probably put them all on detention!’
‘Probably. Look, try not to get upset about it. Rosie went in happy this morning so hopefully it’ll all blow over. You know what kids are like, they bounce back.’
I nod and blow on my coffee. ‘I suppose.’
Ed carries on talking, but I can hardly concentrate on what he’s saying, my mind drawn back to the seedy contents of the envelope. I remember that I’m supposed to invite Rosie’s friends over after school, which means also asking Pip and Emily if they want to come too. But how will I be able to socialise with friends after receiving such a bombshell in the post?