‘No you’re not.’ Striding across to her, Adam caught hold of her arm as she bent to lift Samuel from the pram. ‘Not with Samuel, Cassie. That’s not going to happen. You need to calm down and listen.’
‘Listen? Ha! Do you honestly expect me to stand here while you and your little trollop lie through your teeth to me? No! I won’t have it. I won’t let you—’
‘That’s enough, Cassie!’ Adam yelled. ‘Kim has been through enough without this.’
‘She’s lying. Why can’t you see what she’s doing?’ Cassie emitted a disbelieving laugh. ‘Silly question, I suppose. Love being blind and all that. Or should I say lust? You’re disgusting. You’re old enough to be her father!’ She attempted to yank her arm from his grasp.
Adam only tightened his grip. ‘Look at her,’ he said, steering her around to face Kim. ‘She’s injured. Her clothes are torn. What more do you need to convince you to stop this bloody insanity?’
With no choice, Cassie did as he wanted, looking Kim over slowly and derisively. Kim was now crying actual tears. She was good, Cassie had to admit. She should win an Oscar. ‘Couldn’t wait to get them off her, hey, Adam?’ she asked, gaining marginal satisfaction from Kim’s muted sob as she pressed a hand to her mouth.
‘That’s it, I’m done with this.’ Adam released his hold on her arm. ‘Kim, get Samuel’s things together. I’ll drive you—’
‘Ask her what Josh’s favourite cake was,’ Cassie demanded. ‘Go on, ask her.’
Adam said nothing; simply stared at her, looking pig sick.
Not half as sick as Cassie felt. ‘He was allergic to dairy products, you lying, scheming little bitch!’ she shouted, stopping Kim in her tracks as she started across the patio. ‘Pity you didn’t know that, isn’t it?’ she added, over a silence so profound you could hear a leaf drop. ‘You might have put him out of whatever misery he suffered with you sooner.’
Forty-Two
Joshua
July 2019
Since it was pouring with rain, Josh supposed he should be grateful that Kim had suggested meeting inside the pub, though why she insisted on the same pub, which was just outside the village he would rather avoid, he couldn’t fathom. She had friends in the village, she’d said. He couldn’t think who. It was a small community. He certainly didn’t have many friends there any more. Jemma hated his guts. As for Ryan… Well, he wouldn’t be very friendly once he found out that the child Jemma was carrying was his so-called mate’s, which he was bound to whether or not Josh pursued access.
He’d consulted a solicitor, only to be told that he couldn’t establish the baby was his until it was born, when he would have a right to ask for paternity testing. The technology to establish paternity before then did exist, but would require the consent of the mother, which was highly unlikely to be forthcoming. In any case, Josh didn’t want to go that route. In short, he could do nothing but wait. ‘Try to build a sensible relationship with the mother,’ the solicitor had advised. Fat chance. ‘Oh, and if you do have to pursue access through the courts, you might want to think how you’re going to fund it,’ he’d added. He would need a shedload of cash, basically, which he simply didn’t have.
He sighed and knocked back his pint. As for the situation with Kim, despite the messages he’d sent he’d had no contact from her whatsoever. He’d been taken aback when she’d called him out of the blue. She hadn’t turned up for the morning train in a long time, although he was sure he’d glimpsed her a couple of times at Birmingham New Street. He’d felt as if she was bloody well haunting him at one point, when, waking hot and sweaty, he’d gone to open the window and noticed a slim figure standing on the opposite side of the road. He couldn’t be sure it was her in the pitch black, but he’d had a weird feeling it might be. When he’d pulled the front door open two minutes later, shaking his head free of sleep, the figure had gone. His housemate reckoned it was a thief sussing the area. Josh supposed he was right; there’d been a break-in nearby the week before.
Feeling more guilty after that, he’d tried harder to find her, but she seemed to have disappeared. Part of him selfishly hoped she’d been mistaken, that she hadn’t been pregnant and had simply moved on.