Trust Me - Sheryl Browne Page 0,83

last night, and his reluctance to say very much other than that he was tired and going to bed.

Seeing him heading for the front door as she reached the hall, she hurried down the last few steps. ‘Ben?’

He stopped and turned back.

‘Are you all right?’ she asked, knowing he wasn’t.

Ben nodded. ‘Is it true?’ His eyes flicked angrily to hers. ‘Is Dad having an affair with Sally?’

Emily hesitated. ‘I don’t know, Ben, not for sure,’ she answered cautiously, and then decided it was better he knew. At least some of it. He would find out eventually, just as she had. And then he might possibly be angry with her for not being honest with him. ‘They’re obviously close. They did have a relationship, a while back apparently, before we were married.’

Ben considered. ‘Right,’ he said at length, ‘so they just had a shag for old times’ sake then?’ His tone was one of loathing, his eyes furious as he spun around to yank the front door open.

Emily went after him as he stalked out. ‘Ben, wait. Don’t go off upset.’

‘I’m not,’ he retorted without looking back. ‘Just do me a favour and tell him I don’t want anything to do with him, yeah?’

Emily stopped, her heart sinking as she watched him stride away, and then dropping like a stone to the pit of her stomach when Fran rounded the gates. She’d forgotten it was her day to come in and clean.

‘He’s got one on him, hasn’t he?’ Fran observed, a disapproving look on her face as she nodded after Ben.

‘He’s fine,’ Emily lied, her voiced strained. ‘He’s just deep in thought about his next project.’

‘Still, he could have said hello,’ Fran couldn’t resist adding.

Gritting her teeth, Emily tried to ignore her.

‘You’re late going in again, aren’t you?’ Fran observed as she followed her towards the house.

She’d obviously noticed that Emily was still in her pyjamas. Her red-rimmed eyes, too; the eagle-eyed cow couldn’t have failed to notice those. Cautioning herself not to lose it and tell her where to stuff her observations, Emily turned back to her. ‘Actually, Fran, I went a bit mad cleaning yesterday. I don’t really think there’s that much to do.’

‘Oh.’ Fran furrowed her brow. ‘You’re not dissatisfied with my services, I hope,’ she said, looking put out.

‘No, Fran.’ Emily gave her a short smile. ‘It’s just that it seems a bit pointless, so you might as well take some time off. I’ll still pay you, of course.’

Fran nodded, placated somewhat, but she had a cagey look in her eye. ‘As long as you don’t have any complaints,’ she said. ‘You have made one or two comments at the surgery in the past – in front of other people, I might add – which I found quite hurtful.’

Yes, because you were doing more gossiping than working. Emily felt bad, nevertheless. ‘I’m sorry, Fran,’ she said. ‘It was wrong of me to reprimand you in public. It won’t happen again.’

Fran nodded once more, a pious look now on her face as she accepted the apology. ‘I do take pride in my work, you know,’ she said. ‘I consider it crucial to the running of the surgery, even if other people do look down their noses at it. Germs breed germs, after all.’

‘It is,’ Emily agreed. The woman might as well be quoting her. She’d always told Fran she was part of the team, that her job was as important to patient safety as theirs was. If only she would spend more time actually doing it, Emily would never have cause to have words with her.

‘It’s not been easy, you know, doing two jobs while bringing a child up on my own,’ Fran went on. Emily really wished she wouldn’t. She was feeling extremely nauseous, despite not letting a morsel past her lips she hadn’t prepared for herself.

‘Some of us don’t have … well, let’s just say the privileges in life others have.’

Emily’s jaw dropped. Fran was judging her when she couldn’t possibly know anything about her life. It was quite unbelievable. She was having a conversation on the drive in her pyjamas about her cleaner’s injured pride while her world was crumbling beneath her.

‘I’m not looking down my nose, Fran. I appreciate what you do,’ she assured her with forced patience. ‘I just don’t need you this morning. I’ll pay you, obviously, as I said. Now, I’d better get on. As you pointed out, I’m running a bit late.’

Drawing in a deep breath, she waited, wondering whether