weren’t so scary after all. He thought it might be like that – in his own way he thought he might be helping, but the second he’d seen her stricken face pale he realized he’d made a horrible mistake.
Another one.
And he has no idea how to sort it out either.
Archie was in raptures. He’d fallen in love with that puppy the second he had seen him. George could still hear Archie’s excited screams ringing in his ears. To take him away now would be cruel, particularly… George swallowed hard – particularly if George was no longer living at home full-time. If he was honest, that was part of the dog’s appeal. Something that could protect his family if… when he was no longer around.
‘George…’ She stirs next to him, drawing him out of his thoughts and back into her bed. He feels the soft curve of her waist, the brush of her breasts on his chest as she levers herself onto her elbow and gazes at him with love. ‘What are you thinking?’
‘I’m thinking about Leah.’
Her face clouds. George wants to kiss away her worries.
‘I can’t keep doing this,’ he says.
‘I know. Me neither.’ Her pain matches his, it’s hard for her also. She feels it keenly, the sense of betrayal. She cares about Leah too.
‘I’m going to leave her.’ Voicing the words outside of his head gives them weight and clarity.
‘Are you sure?’ Her face is both hopeful and afraid.
‘Yes. It’s you I want to be with. I love you, Francesca.’
Chapter Forty-Six
Marie
Thirteen days ago
As soon as Marie saw George kissing another woman outside the pub, she knew she held another secret in the palm of her hands. When George turned, as though sensing Marie’s presence, it gave her a clear view of the woman’s face. Marie was shocked and angry it was Leah’s therapist, Francesca. She was saddened for her sister that this clearly wasn’t some one-night stand.
George’s expression as he caught sight of his sister-in-law was a mixture of shame and fear. She knew how he felt, terrified of being exposed for the person you were rather than the person everyone thought you should be.
She waited while George spoke low and urgently to Francesca, who bowed her head and scurried away.
‘What… what are you doing here?’ asked George as he drank in Marie’s too-short skirt, her too-glossy lips that could spill his sordid secret.
Sarcasm sat on Marie’s tongue but instead of releasing it, she swallowed it down and pursued a rare course of action.
She was honest.
‘I… I’m an addict.’ This time it was Marie who couldn’t meet George’s eyes.
‘Marie…’ George toed the kerb. ‘We all know you like a drink—’
‘It’s more than alcohol now, I’m afraid.’ She rubbed her arms, whether to draw attention to her track marks or hide them, she did not know.
‘Does Leah know?’
‘Leah doesn’t need to know everything.’ Marie’s eyes flickered in Francesca’s direction.
‘This isn’t what it looks like,’ George said quickly.
‘Good. Because it looks like you’re cheating on my sister.’
‘It’s complicated. Leah’s complicated.’
‘We all are,’ Marie said. ‘But don’t give up on her, George. Please. What we went through has made us who we are today but we can change. Leah wants to. I want to.’
‘Have you tried… to give up?’
‘Yeah. But… it’s…’ Marie tugged down her skirt. ‘To say it’s a craving doesn’t even cover it. We crave food or drink or… love and when we have it we feel satisfied, but this… it’s like I’ll die if I don’t have a hit. I can’t think about anything else. I can’t focus on anything. I’d do anything – I have done anything.’
Marie told George about the money she owed her dealer. The way he’d held her head, knotting his hands into her hair as he thrust himself into her mouth. Her sorry tale tumbling heavy and toxic onto the pavement between them, crouching among the dog-ends and the crumpled fag packets, ready to spring again and again.
‘Christ. Marie…’
‘That’s why I’m here. Dressed to impress.’ She fluttered jazz hands and tried to smile but she couldn’t. ‘I was chased earlier by two women. I was on their spot. George,’ – her teeth begin to chatter – ‘have you got any cash?’
‘Marie. I can’t… I can’t give you money for drugs. To kill yourself.’
‘I wasn’t selling myself for that. I was trying to raise enough for rehab. I…’ Her voice cracked. ‘I want…’ she whispered, ‘I want to be clean.’
Strangely it was this admission that brought her the most shame, as though it was