Trust Me - Sheryl Browne Page 0,84

it might occur to Fran that she might have her own problems to deal with.

‘Well, as long as you’re sure. I don’t want rumours going around that I don’t do my job properly.’

‘No,’ Emily said weakly. She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry.

‘As it happens, I could do with going into the surgery at lunchtime rather than this evening.’ Fran checked her watch, and then looked Emily over pointedly. ‘I was hoping to catch Tom and have a quick word with him about something.’

Yes, and if Tom’s worried looks and tendency to walk in the other direction every time he noticed Fran heading in his were anything to go by, he wouldn’t want to be caught.

‘Righto. See you later.’ Emily twirled back towards the house before she was tempted to remind Fran that her contract actually stipulated times and hours to be worked. She’d contemplated not going in today. Since Jake had levelled such serious accusations at her, she didn’t think there was any point. But then, in meekly bowing out of his life, she would be smoothing the way for Sally, wouldn’t she? She had no intention of doing that. Sally had never seen her as anything but amenable. It was time she knew there was another side to her. A side that, if pushed, could be just as viciously calculating as Sally was herself.

Fran was already in, flicking her mop around reception, when Emily finally arrived, having tried to make herself presentable. She hadn’t bothered trying to emulate Sally’s perfectly made-up, flirtily sexy look, ditching the leggings and boots in favour of a smart slip dress that was reasonably figure-hugging. Her make-up was minimal in keeping with her desire to appear professional. Jake probably thought she would be too embarrassed to show her face. But he was wrong. She’d worked side by side with him for years, helping him build up this practice. This was her job. If he wanted her to leave, he would have to sack her.

Sailing through the reception area to her desk, she gave Fran a nod and then smiled brightly at Nicky. ‘Afternoon,’ she said.

‘Afternoon.’ Nicky looked at her uncertainly. ‘Are you feeling better?’

‘Much,’ Emily assured her, parking her bag under her desk, and turning to slide out of her jacket.

‘Ooh, I like the dress,’ Nicky said, sounding like her usual self, to Emily’s relief. She’d imagined that the gossip would be rife. ‘Very smart. Love the colour.’

‘Thanks, Nicky.’ Emily appreciated it. She knew powder blue suited her, enhancing her eyes, which were probably her best feature. She felt a deep pang of sadness as she recalled how Jake had once said how much he loved them. There’d been nothing but seething anger in his own eyes the last time he’d looked at her.

‘Definitely an improvement on the pyjamas,’ Fran commented, her ears pricking up. ‘I don’t know how you managed to get dressed and get here so quickly.’

‘With practice,’ Emily said, very aware that Fran was desperate to advertise that she’d been in a state of undress on her drive not so long ago. She thanked God it was lunchtime and there were no patients waiting in reception. The colour of her pyjamas would be common knowledge by teatime.

‘Have you heard the latest?’ Nicky lowered her voice as Emily sat down at her PC, about to pull up the drug orders.

Emily braced herself. ‘No,’ she said, her eyes on her screen.

Nicky waited a second, watching Fran as she disappeared towards Tom’s office. Then: ‘They didn’t find anything,’ she whispered. ‘The police. They haven’t checked Tom’s printer yet, but they haven’t been able to match up any of the other printers.’

Emily felt a huge surge of relief run through her. She’d thought Nicky was about to say something about the medication Jake claimed had gone missing. He clearly hadn’t mentioned it to anyone else. But why wouldn’t he have? Her relief was short-lived as she considered that it was probably because he had made up his mind that she was responsible and wasn’t sure what to do about it.

‘They haven’t been able to get any forensics either,’ Nicky went on with a sigh. ‘No fingerprints on the letters or envelopes, no handy CCTV footage of anyone posting letters though doors. I heard them talking to Jake. He’s obviously worried sick, isn’t he? He’s been walking around with a permanent frown …’ She trailed off as Jake himself appeared, frowning pensively, as Nicky had said, his complexion pale and looking so exhausted that,