a chair, a temporary measure to make the lift stay put. Wobbling to the en suite, I wet a towel under the cold tap and gently pressed it against the growing bump on my head. What had Sheridan said? Go to your room and think about what you’ve done. Was that how she had lived her early years? Groaning, I rubbed the back of my head. Right now, more than anything, I needed to speak to my friend.
I held my breath as I heard Sheridan’s high heels click rapidly along the floor above. A sense of dread rose inside me. What if she came down the stairs? It wasn’t as if I could lock the bathroom door. Sheridan had removed the key. What if I needed to protect myself?
I walked out into the open living space. There used to be a gym here, but all the weights had been removed. There was nothing I could use to defend myself. I stared at the door that led to the corridor, my anxiety growing as I waited for Sheridan to come down. Was I overreacting? Surely she meant me no harm. But still, the door remained closed.
What was she doing? Was she still furious or had she sent for help? A small voice piped up inside me: You have only yourself to blame. Sheridan had made it clear from the beginning: no smoking and no booze.
I ran over the events in my mind. It was just a bit of hair-pulling, wasn’t it? It wasn’t her fault I’d fallen. But I was pregnant. My hands went to my stomach. It was my job to protect the baby growing inside me. I would talk to Daniel, make things clear. If Sheridan laid another finger on me, I was out of here.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
ROZ
I awoke with a start as fingers dug into my shoulder. It was Daniel, shaking me awake. I blinked to clear my vision. I must have fallen asleep. A sharp pain in the back of my head made me wince.
‘Roz, are you OK?’ Daniel asked, his handsome face creased with worry.
Why is he asking me? Why doesn’t he ask his precious wife? I thought, scooting up on the sofa.
‘What?’ I said, trying to piece things together. I vaguely remembered getting the phone from my suitcase, then pacing the floor when I couldn’t get a signal. I had wanted to let Dympna know where I was, in case things escalated even more. But had I put the phone back? If Sheridan found it there would be hell to pay. Think, Roz, think. My brain felt as if it had been replaced with cotton wool.
Taking a bottle of water from the mini fridge, Daniel strode across the room and offered it to me. ‘Here, take a sip. Sheridan said you fell over in the lift.’
‘Thanks.’ I exhaled a relieved breath as I remembered shoving the mobile beneath the sofa cushion when I lay down to rest.
‘What time is it?’ I unscrewed the lid from the glass bottle of spring water.
‘It’s just gone two. Are you OK?’ he repeated, sitting across from me. ‘Sheridan said you were upset.’
‘I was upset?’ My eyes widened. ‘She grabbed me by my ponytail and threw me into the lift. I . . .’ Tears sprang to my eyes. ‘I want to go home.’
‘Hey, now,’ Daniel said, his voice warm. ‘Sounds like one big misunderstanding. Sheridan would never hurt you.’ He extended his hand and I took the tissue he offered, watching him warily. ‘I told her that you’re young. And she has to take your hormones into account. You’re bound to feel a little erratic with everything going on. I remember when I first came over from England . . .’
‘Me? Erratic?’ I interrupted. I was beginning to sound like a parrot, continuously repeating his words. I rubbed the bump on the back of my head. I certainly hadn’t imagined that. ‘What did she say happened?’
‘Just that you were having a lovely morning, but then you had an argument over the kale juice. You knocked over the glass before stomping into the lift. Some of it must have been on your sneakers, and that’s when you slipped and fell.’ He held up his hands. ‘I hold no judgements. I hate that stuff too. But you can’t go off in a huff like that. And blocking the lift door open . . . it’s not on. I had to access the stairs to check that you were OK.’