she was running at full steam. She jabbed her finger at him, as if she would like to jab his chest with a six inch knife.
‘You’ve got a bloody nerve, Patrick Keever. After the last few hours, I can’t believe that you would have the audacity to turn up here.’
Pat looked as his wife in confusion. God, but she was beautiful. Her spiky blonde hair was catching the sunlight, and her huge brown eyes sparkled with fury. Tall and slim, she looked perfect to him. But he had no idea what he’d done. At least, not in the last day or two.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Georgia. Can I come in, or are we going to fight on the doorstep?’
‘You can come into the hall so that we can shut the door,’ she answered. ‘But that’s as far as you’re getting.’
He walked in and headed towards the kitchen. But Georgia just stood by the door with her arms folded.
‘What am I supposed to have done? I’ve had a shit morning, and I didn’t come here for an ear bashing. I came for sympathy.’ Even to himself, Pat sounded a bit pathetic.
‘What in God’s name makes you think I’ll give you any sympathy? First you send me a text message, telling me baldly that you are about to become a father. Then when I phone to ask you what the hell you’re talking about, you reject my calls. Not once, but three times. And on top of that, I got a message from Ellie last night saying how happy they were for you because - and I quote - “Mimi’s a little treasure”.’
Georgia’s hands fell to sit firmly on her hips, arms bent at the elbow. She was a picture of anger and resentment. But Patrick was totally bewildered.
‘I never sent you a text. Why the hell would I do that? I had no idea how I was going to tell you about the baby - I was going to wait a bit to make sure it wasn’t a false alarm.’
‘Bloody typical of you. Try to avoid the issue and hope it resolves itself without any intervention on your part. It doesn’t work like that, Pat. It didn’t take you long, though, did it? My God - just because I said I wasn’t ready to have babies you have to go and make one with somebody else within about five minutes. You really are unbelievable. And then - yet again - I learn about your behaviour by text. Last time it was with the happy news that you were being unfaithful. This time I get a few words to tell me that you will soon be a proud father.’
‘Georgia, we’ve been through this before. I don’t know who could have told you about me and Mimi. Nobody knew. Not even Max! And I wouldn’t have told you about the baby this way. Surely you know that?’
‘Well all I can suggest is that your tart must have got hold of your phone and sent it. Because it definitely came from your mobile.’
Pat was astounded. He’d caught Mimi with his phone a few days ago. She said she was looking up the weather forecast, because she didn’t have a smart phone. But since then he’d changed the password, and to something that she would never guess in a million years.
‘When did you phone me, exactly, because I would never reject a call from you? You know that, or at least you damn well should do.’
‘I phoned you three times, between ten and eleven this morning.’
Pat felt confusion and a rising sense of panic. He didn’t want to do anything else to upset his wife.
‘I promise you, I never got any calls from you. If you got a text, it wasn’t from me.’
Georgia shoved past him and stormed down the hallway. He made a move to follow her, but she half turned and held up her hand, palm facing outwards. A definite sign that he should stay where he was. She returned a few seconds later with her mobile clutched in her hand and waved it in his face.
‘So explain this, if you’re so bloody clever. Here’s the text. And look - oh surprise, surprise. It’s from your phone.’
Pat stared at the screen in amazement. She was right.
Before they could pursue this any further, his own phone rang. Mimi. Perfect timing. Sometimes he thought she had some sixth sense. He clicked to answer.
‘What is it, Mimi?’
‘I’m sorry Patrick. Am I disturbing you?’