mind, but Jennie’s load had been considerably lightened in the last half-hour. Her internal swing-o-meter had lurched in a positive direction and, rightly or wrongly, the conviction that her stepdaughter was not indeed pregnant had firmly taken root; she was much more receptive to the outside world and, as such, suitably enthralled. When I got to the end, she whistled.
‘Well. She certainly got her comeuppance, didn’t she? Got her thieving little fingers rapped. Shall we do a spot of prison visiting? Take her a photo of Phil?’
‘I’d rather not,’ I said hastily.
‘She could, though, couldn’t she?’
‘Go to prison? I’ve no idea.’
‘She bloody should,’ Jennie said with feeling. ‘Or at least community service. God, I’d love to see her sweeping the streets in a fluorescent yellow jacket. She probably thought she was invincible. People do, you know, when they’ve got away with something for ages, whether it’s nicking people’s husbands or nicking money – probably thought she’d never get caught.’ Her face fell suddenly. ‘Oh. Poor Simon.’
‘I know.’
She picked up a wooden spoon and stirred the yellow corn, reflective. ‘Funny. A couple of months ago he was all I could think about. Every waking moment. I used to drive past his house at night, take Leila to his bit of the common for a walk, Google him constantly – I could practically recite his website. I had the most almighty crush, Poppy. But now, especially with all this Frankie business, I look back in wonder. Think: who was that woman checking her phone for texts every five minutes, going dog-walking in full slap in case she should bump into him, who was she? I don’t recognize her at all. And after what you’ve told me I certainly don’t think: oh, good, he might be free again.’
‘Don’t you?’ I was intrigued. ‘Not even a bit?’
She regarded me, astonished. ‘Not even a tiny bit. Not for one fraction of a second. Honest to God, Poppy, I’m embarrassed by her. Constantly licking lipstick off her teeth, buying new bras and pretending it was time to ditch the old M&S ones – I was in danger of making a fool of myself. And I’m genuinely sad for Simon. Wish his life wasn’t like it is right now. But in the long run, he’s better off without her. Perhaps it’s as well it happened now?’
‘You mean, rather than further down the line with children.’ Like me, I thought.
‘Exactly.’ She sighed and we were silent a moment, Jennie watching opaquely as I shared out the sausages between two plates, spooned the veg. Suddenly she came to. ‘Anyway, I’ve got other things to worry about without wondering if Simon will be waiting at the prison gates for her. Here, darling.’ She seized the ketchup bottle and shook some out for Clemmie, who, hungry and fit to combust, was climbing into her chair. ‘Yes, I’ve got other fish to fry,’ Jennie said with a sudden grin. ‘I’m off to enquire of my hardly-spring-chicken friends, whether, when they popped in for coffee the other day, either of them also popped upstairs to use a pregnancy test that was sitting in the bathroom cabinet.’ She snorted with derision. ‘As if.’
I shrugged. ‘I agree, it’s a long shot.’ I frowned as I helped Archie into his highchair and sat beside him. ‘Sitting in your cabinet?’
‘What?’
‘The test?’
‘Oh. Yes, it was mine. You get two in a pack these days and I’d used the other one ages ago when I’d had a nasty shock and was late. Why?’
‘I dunno. I just didn’t know that.’
She made to leave and it occurred to me, as I blew on the bit of sausage I’d speared for Archie, that I hadn’t told her about Sam. Being married to Hope. Well, there’d been so much else to divulge. But I could have slipped it in, couldn’t I? She’d have been intrigued. Why hadn’t I? I wondered if I was being protective. After all, Sam hadn’t broadcast it around the village – nor had Hope for that matter, although perhaps for more obvious reasons – so neither would I. But neither had I told her something else that was bothering me. About Luke.
Archie gave an impatient squawk, mouth wide, and I hurriedly shovelled in the sausage.
Coincidentally I ran into both of my friends later on. First Peggy, as the children and I sat on the bench by the pond feeding the ducks, and she passed on her way to the shop. She was looking pleased as punch and rather exotic