‘You brought her here!’ she sobbed. ‘Deliberately. Trashing everything we ever had! You complete—’
‘Cassie…’ Adam took another step back, holding his hands out defensively as she grabbed the closest object to hand and hurled it at him.
The framed wedding photograph they kept on the mantel shelf, she realised, her heart dropping as it glanced off Adam’s forehead to clatter to the floor.
She looked down to where it had landed at his feet, the glass smashed, the photograph spilling from the frame. Now everything was broken, truly.
‘For Christ’s sake,’ Adam grated, pressing the heel of his hand to his bloodied head. ‘What the hell are you doing? Are you completely insane?’
Cassie saw red. ‘Don’t you dare,’ she warned him. ‘Don’t you dare try and tell me this is all in my head. You fucked her in my bed! Right under the nose of the neighbours! I bet she just loved that, didn’t she? Seeing the nets twitching.’ She flailed a hand in the direction of the window. ‘And won’t they just revel in it, hey? The gossipers whispering in corners about my dysfunctional family.’
‘That’s nuts, Cassie,’ Adam tried, daring to step towards her. ‘No one is gossiping. There is nothing to gossip about. I don’t know why you think anyone would be interested—’
‘I don’t gossip about them, do I? Have I ever revelled in other people’s misfortune? No! Because I know what it’s like to be the source of the gossip!’ Tears spilling from her eyes, she pictured her mother, going further and further into herself, fixating on the dirt in the house, the dirt people dished about her adulterous husband, the judgemental looks, the gossip. ‘My family is not dysfunctional!’ she screamed, banging a hand against her chest. ‘I will not let anyone drag me down to their level, not you, not Josh, not anyone!’
Adam looked her over, his expression now a combination of disbelief and shock. ‘Josh didn’t drag you down to any level, Cassie,’ he said quietly. ‘He did everything he could to be whatever it was you wanted him to be. It wasn’t enough. Did it occur to you to wonder whether that was why he left?’
Cassie wasn’t hearing him. She didn’t want to hear him. She hadn’t meant to say that. She hadn’t. She had to get out. She couldn’t breathe.
‘Cassie, wait!’ Adam followed her as she flew to the hall. ‘Where are you going?’
‘Out.’ She looked frantically around for her car keys. Where had she left them? ‘My keys,’ she wiped a hand across her nose, tried to breathe,’ where are they?’
‘I don’t know.’ Adam moved around her, clearly trying to stop her opening the door. ‘Cassie, don’t. Please. You’re in no state to drive.’
They were here. She’d dropped them here. She knew she had. She scrabbled around the hall table, scattering the post, sweeping it frantically to the floor. ‘Have you moved them?’ She glared accusingly at him. ‘Have you taken my keys?’
‘I haven’t taken them, Cassie,’ Adam said carefully. ‘I’m only concerned—’
‘It won’t stop me,’ she warned him. ‘I won’t let you take my grandson.’
‘For fuck’s…’ He glanced at the ceiling. ‘No one’s trying to take your grandson,’ he said, his tone softer.
‘Lies,’ Cassie hissed.
‘Right.’ Kneading his forehead, Adam dropped his gaze. ‘Can we not just go and sit down?’ he asked gruffly. ‘Try and talk—’ He stopped, his face draining of colour.
His eyes flicked to hers, and then back to the post on the floor. Quickly he bent to retrieve it, but Cassie was quicker, snatching up the letter before he could.
Forty-Eight
Cassandra
Cassie reeled as she read the words stamped in blood red across the top of the envelope: The DNA People. Did he know about the secret she’d kept from him all these years? Had he always known? Guardedly she looked back at him. He appeared more terrified than she did. Her mouth running dry, she tore the letter open with trembling fingers.
‘Cassie…’ Adam took a step towards her as she scanned it.
‘No!’ She stepped back. Tried to make sense of what might as well be hieroglyphics: indecipherable tables, genetic systems, combined paternity index, figures relating to case number, alleged father, alleged mother… Nausea almost choking her, she scanned it again. She couldn’t digest the information, couldn’t understand it. Couldn’t grasp why Adam would have requested it – until she reached the maternity test conclusions.
Oh dear God! This wasn’t right. This couldn’t be right. Pressing a hand to her mouth, she dropped the letter as if