Trust Me - Sheryl Browne Page 0,29

noticed his cautious expression.

Jake took a visible breath. ‘In light of … certain recent events, I thought I should tell you that the call-out was from Natasha Jameson,’ he went on, causing Emily’s heart to somersault in her chest. ‘She sounded distraught and said she was injured. I felt obliged to go.’

Noting the hands now shoved in his pockets and his shrug, as if it were no big deal, Emily’s anger unleashed suddenly inside her. ‘I bet you did,’ she fumed, yanking herself to her feet and striding across the kitchen with no purpose other than to open a cupboard, extract a cup she didn’t need and then bang it shut again.

There was deathly silence for several long seconds, until Sally broke it, clattering her stool as she got to her feet. ‘Right, well, I should probably get off,’ she announced with forced jollity. ‘Dave will be wondering where I am.’

Coming across to Emily, she squeezed her shoulders. ‘I’ll call you tomorrow, hun.’

Emily gave her a small nod, grateful for her diplomacy. Staying where she was, her back to Jake until Sally had slipped out of the door, she tried to think rationally. Natasha was one of his patients. She might have felt she needed medical attention, but … why would she call Jake from her mother’s house in Worcester? And why would he go? It was over an hour’s drive away. Surely, if it were urgent, he would have advised her to dial the NHS emergency helpline or go to the local accident and emergency? Emily had offered to take her there herself, for God’s sake.

She couldn’t ignore this. Whatever the fallout might be, there was no way she could simply say nothing. Breathing deeply, she braced herself. ‘Where was she?’ she asked, her voice strained. ‘Natasha, where did you see her?’

Jake took a minute. Then, ‘Why?’ he asked.

‘Why?’ Emily whirled around, astonished. Was he serious? ‘Because I know very well she isn’t at home,’ she pointed out, daring him to lie to her outright. ‘Where did you see her?’

Jake narrowed his eyes. ‘A hotel,’ he answered eventually.

A hotel? Stifling a half-hysterical laugh, Emily looked up to the ceiling. What a poor, gullible idiot she was. Had she honestly believed that Natasha bloody Jameson had been telling her the truth? Confiding in her? There she’d been, confronted by her husband, fleeing from him – only to bump into Emily on the drive. She would hardly have admitted she was cheating on Michael to her, the woman married to the man she was cheating on him with, would she? She hadn’t stayed at her mother’s house, clearly – if it even was her mother’s house Emily had dropped her off at. She’d gone to a hotel. Probably a pre-booked hotel. Did they think Emily was completely stupid?

‘She’s not safe at home,’ Jake went on, oblivious to her incredulous stare, her mounting anger, ‘but it appears you’re already aware of that. What letter were you discussing?’ he asked her. ‘You and Sally, when I came in?’

Emily ignored that. Her chest heaving, she stared hard at him, hardly able to believe that he was questioning her as if she were the one in the wrong. ‘Yes, and you know bloody well why she’s not safe in her home.’ She almost spat the words out. ‘Because of you, you bastard!’

Jake’s eyes darkened. ‘What are you talking about, Emily?’ he asked, his quiet tone belying his taut expression, the agitated tic playing at his cheek.

‘You know very well what,’ she seethed. ‘I am not stupid, Jake. Or blind! I know all about your extracurricular activities. I can read, in case it had escaped your notice.’

Jake sucked in a breath. ‘It hadn’t,’ he said tightly. ‘I don’t think you’re stupid, Emily, or blind. I do think, however, that you might be a little … over-tired. The symptoms you’ve been experiencing – lack of energy, shortness of breath, headaches and palpitations – could all be due to an iron deficiency, which you have. I got the results back this morning. But the broken sleep, this … bizarre behaviour … We should get you another blood test organised in case we’re missing—’

‘Bizarre behaviour?’ Emily stopped listening. Oh, nice move, Dr Merriden. Pop your caring professional hat on. That should ramp up the guilt a bit. ‘As in irrational?’ she asked, holding his gaze, challenging him to belittle her. How long would it be before he told her it was all in her mind?

‘That’s not what I said.’