barely bring myself to speak to him.
Who lives here? The damn video with her artfully posed question had already received over three hundred comments. Holly, bless her, had told me that she’d been trawling her way through every one of them, praying that no one revealed the truth about the house.
From her Instagram post, Victoria looked down at the camera with a smug, supercilious smirk in an arty shot that looked as if the photographer had taken it lying on the floor. It might have made me want to be sick but it had over a thousand likes.
Sam laid a hand on mine.
‘I’ll call her again and get her to take it down,’ he said quietly. She hadn’t answered previously and he’d left a message asking her to call urgently.
‘How? How are you going to get her to take it down?’ I asked, despair creeping into my voice. ‘If you tell her why, she’s vindictive enough to go ahead and reveal it anyway. Do you think that she’ll suddenly see the light and do the right thing?’
‘She’s not a monster, Jess,’ he said, being reasonable. ‘She has no idea what she’s inadvertently done.’
‘Rubbish. She wanted to cause trouble. When she realises how serious it is, she’s going to be delighted.’
‘She’s not that bad.’
I glared at him. How dared he defend her?
‘I disagree, but it doesn’t matter anyway, the damage is done. One of the women at the refuge has seen it. She’s only been with us a little while and she’s freaking out. Told the rest of the families. They’re all terrified. There’s nothing Victoria can do to fix that.’ My stomach churned. Victoria had crossed a line, but she had no idea what she’d done. No idea that her idle curiosity had destroyed the peace of mind and security of half a dozen women reliant on the sanctity and sanctuary of the unassuming house she’d chosen to expose.
Sam dialled and held the phone up to his ear. Frustration simmered when I heard him leaving a message.
He called four more times in quick succession To. No. Fucking. Avail.
‘Oh God, I think I’ll go to work now.’ I had no idea what I could do there before the meeting, but I couldn’t stay at home. I needed to see that the refuge was still safe, that the women were safe.
‘OK. Do you mind dropping me at Lynn and Richard’s, and I can get my car?’ He’d left it there the night before when we’d been to a barbecue there and walked home.
‘Sure, I can pick up my phone charger.’ I’d left it plugged in by the toaster in the kitchen.
I’m surprised the steering wheel didn’t crumble under my death-like grip or my knuckles implode with the pressure as I drove to my aunt and uncle’s. Victoria still hadn’t called Sam back and he seemed to know better than to speak to me; I’d never been so crazed with the strange combination of rage and despair before. I felt like I was being eaten from the inside out by it. When I looked in the rear-view mirror at one point, I saw that a blood vessel had burst in my eye.
As I pulled up outside the house, Sam began to wave, and I realised his parents were walking past the house with Tiggy. They slowed and waited for us to get out of the car.
‘Hello Sam.’
‘’Lo,’ said Sam with an uncommunicative shrug that made his mother dart a worried glance his way.
‘Do you both want to pop in for a cup of tea?’ she asked, including me in the invitation. I could see that she was anxious to mend fences.
Sam shook his head. ‘Not now. Jess has got to get to work.’
Hurt flashed, sharply and briefly, on his mother’s face, although she straightened her shoulders in stoic resignation.
‘We’ve got some post for you,’ said his dad with a touch of reproof.
‘You go,’ I said desperate for Sam to fix things with his mum. ‘I’ll just grab my charger, and I could join you for a quick cup of tea.’ Much as I didn’t want to, I felt I ought to accept the half-hearted olive branch. There wasn’t much I could do at the refuge before the meeting anyway.
His mother’s wary glance my way was a mix of resentment and gratitude, as if I was the one keeping Sam from her and had just released him.
‘Sure?’ he asked with a brief featherlight touch to the inside my arm. One of our touches. A