get some rest? I’ll check in with you at lunchtime to see how you’re feeling.’
I managed to send the children off with a smile on my face, trying to ignore my nagging conscience when little Theo said, ‘But Miss Russo, it won’t be as much fun without you.’
‘Of course it will,’ I said, ruffling his hair. ‘We’ve got abseiling this afternoon and I wouldn’t miss that for the world.’
Except the world, it seems, is a precarious place. One tiny tilt of the axis and we’re all at sea.
‘Have you definitely not got any messages for me?’ I asked at the hostel lobby, just before lunch. ‘Might someone else have taken a call?’
The man shook his head unhelpfully.
‘I’m really sorry, but I don’t think I’m going to be able to stay the course,’ I said when Maria came to visit me in my room. It wasn’t strictly true – I could have seen it through – but I didn’t feel well enough to be scaling down mountains and building a raft in the middle of a lake. At best, I was going to have to base myself at the hostel, which was unwelcoming at the best of times, least of all when you’re ill and want your own bed. I didn’t let on that I felt compelled to get home as quickly as I could, just to check that everything was okay with Thomas. Once I was satisfied, I would come back, free of the apprehension that was slowly poisoning my body.
I held my phone on my lap for the taxi journey to the station, impatiently waiting for the service bars to light up. We were a good four miles from the base of Snowdonia when my phone sprang into action. Ping after ping resounded as the driver tutted, no doubt used to townies who were restless and testy, eager to get back to civilization.
Is everything okay?
Did it happen?
Can you call me when you can please?
I’ve seen a wonderful kitchen
Just let me know when it’s done
I’m worried – please call me
Message after message illuminated the screen. Every single one of them from Mum.
27
By the time I pulled into London Euston I’d called Thomas ten times and was verging on hysteria. If he wasn’t dead, he’d better have a bloody good excuse.
When I turned the corner of my road and saw his car parked up outside the flat, I felt all the air rush out of me. It didn’t rule him out of having had an accident, or worse. But it did mean that he was there, we were still together, and he hadn’t done the dirty on us with Mum’s money, because rightly or wrongly that’s all I could think about.
Shame flooded through me as I recalled the already hazy journey. I was unable to believe that the thoughts I’d allowed to infiltrate my mind were truly mine. Seeing him come out the front door, with his overnight holdall slung casually over his shoulder, I went to call out. But I stopped, to give myself just another few seconds to pull myself together. To wipe the guilt, that I was sure would be obvious, from my face.
His face broke into a wide grin as he reached his car and I wondered if he’d already seen me, but was pretending not to, so as not to spoil the surprise. I tried to walk faster, thwarted by my case’s wheels having to negotiate the uneven pavement.
I stopped dead still in my tracks as Thomas leant into the passenger window of the car. I wanted to see him talking to a male colleague or perhaps even my mum, who he’d thoughtfully taken out to lunch to celebrate the deal. I wanted to see anyone apart from the attractive blonde woman he was kissing.
Feeling as if I’d been punched in the stomach, I instinctively crouched down behind a hedge on someone’s path. I don’t know if it was because my legs collapsed beneath me or that I was scared of being seen. How would anything, ever be all right again, if I acknowledged what I’d witnessed? If Thomas knew I’d caught him out.
I needed to think before I acted, but I didn’t have much time. I heard the car start up and gathered my thoughts. Think. Think. Think.
I stood up, just in time to see the car go past, the smiling woman looking out the passenger window at me as she went by. There was no recognition from her. No appreciation that the man she