Trust Me - Sheryl Browne Page 0,91

him. ‘You might employ me, but what I do in my own time is my business. You’re no better than her,’ she flailed a hand in Emily’s direction, ‘looking down your nose, thinking you’re better than me.’

‘Fran, you need to stop this.’ His face visibly paling, Jake moved back towards her, trying to reason with her. Edward and Joyce joined him after a second, and all three of them attempted to steer her gently towards a chair.

‘Don’t you touch me!’ Again Fran pulled away, dragging derisory eyes over Jake. ‘You’re no better than him either. Peas in a pod, the pair of you.’ Her lip curling in contempt, she looked from him to Tom. ‘Impressing deluded, gullible women with your good looks and your charming smile. Imagining everyone’s blind to what you’re up to, including your own wife!’

‘Jesus.’ Massaging his forehead agitatedly, Jake backed away.

‘Did you know he’s having an affair with someone young enough to be his daughter?’ Fran went on bitterly, her eyes swivelling again from Jake to Tom, causing Emily’s heart to jolt. Who was she talking about?

‘Ask him,’ Fran growled over the stunned silence. ‘Go on, ask him. I’m only surprised he hasn’t tried to chat up his own—’

‘Come on, lovely.’ Edward wrapped an arm around her shoulders. ‘I think you might have had a drop too much of the old sauce. Come and have a little sit down,’ he suggested kindly. ‘Less said, soonest mended, hey?’

‘Don’t you bloody well start with your do-gooding, pillar-of-the-community bullshit,’ Fran seethed, pulling away from him too.

‘Oh dear.’ Eyeing Jake in quiet despair, Edward shook his head.

‘You’re nothing of the sort, are you, Ed?’ Fran went on. ‘You’re just the same as them, pulling the wool over people’s eyes, hiding who you really are behind that amiable smile of yours.’

‘That’s enough, Fran.’ Finding his voice, Tom stepped angrily towards her.

‘He’s a thief!’ Fran exploded. ‘A thief and a liar!’ she went on, spitting venom as Tom caught hold of her arms. ‘Collecting the football club fees, taking people’s money at events he’s organised supposedly to plough back into the community. Lies, all of it! Half of it goes into your pocket, doesn’t it, Ed?’

Edward said nothing, as she eyeballed him accusingly. The colour draining from his ruddy cheeks, he simply looked at her for a second, and then dropped his gaze and turned away. The silence was so profound you could hear a pin drop as, avoiding the astonished gaze of his neighbours, he walked silently towards the door.

Trembling, Emily looked disbelievingly towards Fran. It was her. She’d been doing this. Destroying people. Driving them to the edge of despair, with no thought or feeling for the devastating consequences. Her heart banging as the whispers began to ripple around her, she looked towards where Edward had disappeared through the exit door, and then went after him.

Thirty-Six

Frantically Emily scoured the road back into the centre of the village. She breathed out a huge sigh of relief when she spotted Edward sitting on the bench overlooking the river. His hands resting on his knees, his shoulders slumped, he was gazing out over the water; seeing nothing but his world crashing around him, she imagined, supposing any of what Fran had said was true. Judging by his reaction, she had an awful feeling it might be.

Careful not to startle him, she made her way down the path and sat down beside him.

‘First you take a drink, then the drink takes you,’ he said quietly after a moment. ‘It obviously loosened her tongue. She would never have said the things she did otherwise.’

Emily wasn’t so sure about that. Fran might have spat out her accusations in a drunken rage – she’d clearly had much more to drink than the three glasses of wine she’d had at the party – but the woman’s tongue worked perfectly well with or without alcohol.

Thinking it better not to voice her opinion, she watched Edward carefully as he fell silent again. She wanted to reach for his hand, to reassure him in some way, but guessing from his long intake of breath that he was trying to hold himself together, she waited instead, allowing him the space he might need.

‘She was talking about Tom, by the way, not Jake, you do realise that?’ He glanced at her briefly. ‘I can’t abide gossip, as I think you know, but since Fran has opened that particular can of worms … Her daughter, Leah. If you look, you can see the likeness.