The Weekend Away - Sarah Alderson Page 0,21

probably gone out to get a coffee or to get some food,’ Rob says, batting Marlow’s hands away from his mouth. ‘You said you had a lie-in. She probably didn’t want to wake you.’

I press my lips together and nod. I told him I’d slept in late and that’s why I missed his calls. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him that I thought I might have been drugged and possibly sexually assaulted. I’ve ruled that last part out anyway – it seems impossible and I don’t want to think about it. And besides, I was worried Rob would be angry and blame me if I told him. And he’d have a right to be. I did flirt with the guy. I didn’t put my foot down strongly enough when Kate insisted they come back to our place. Though, actually, now I come to think about it, I do remember an argument. I recall Kate shouting angrily. But I can’t remember clearly what it was about.

It’s eleven o’clock in the morning. Maybe Rob’s right and she has nipped out to get coffee or milk or some groceries. But then I remember the stocked fridge. What if she went out with the men for breakfast or brunch? What if they decided after the hot tub to go out clubbing somewhere else? There are lots of reasons she might not be here.

But she knew about the e-bike tour this morning, which we’ve now missed. Would she abandon me like that? I don’t think she would. We had plans to get lunch too, at a famous seafood place by the dock after we finished the bike ride, and then we planned to do some shopping. She was excited about it. We spent the plane ride chatting about all the things we were going to do when we got here. But maybe she tried to wake me up and couldn’t so went off on her own?

‘Look,’ Rob says, ‘I need to get Marlow in the car.’

Marlow is getting fretful in his arms so I nod, forcing a smile. ‘Bye, darling.’ I wave at my daughter. She doesn’t seem to recognise me or to hear – she’s struggling wildly to get out of Rob’s arms. Since she started crawling a couple of months ago she’s not stopped wriggling and trying to pull a Houdini out of any place we put her.

‘I’ll call you later,’ Rob says. ‘Try not to worry. She’ll show up. Call or text me as soon as she does.’

I hang up, feeling a distinct lack of reassurance. I wish I could have told Rob more about the circumstances but, aside from the fact I feel ashamed as much as alarmed and he seemed distracted, I also know he’d be less than sympathetic if he heard about Kate’s drug taking and her sleeping with random strangers. Rob and Kate have known each other since university. I actually met Rob through Kate, at a party hosted by one of their mutual friends. Rob’s always found Kate a little much, a little too into herself, and way too loud for his liking. He’s also not a fan of her wild partying. Rob’s a round of golf, pint down the pub kind of guy, who cycles to work and works as the financial director of an environmental charity. Kate prefers swanky bars, private limos and wouldn’t date anyone who didn’t earn at least seven figures.

She’s never said it but I think Kate thinks Rob is boring with his accounting job and his love of DIY, though even she has to concede he’s one of the good ones. He’s hard-working, thoughtful, kind, funny and smart. He does the dishes and the laundry and even came with me on the Women’s March in London earlier this year, carrying Marlow in the sling and wearing a T-shirt that said ‘Raising a Feminist’. He might not be Kate’s cup of tea, but he’s definitely mine. I feel a sudden wave of hot shame wash over me as I remember briefly contemplating having sex with Joaquim. How could I have done that when I’m married to someone as lovely as Rob?

I try Kate’s phone again though it still goes straight through to voicemail. Something doesn’t feel right, a buzzing feeling in my gut. If those men drugged me last night then who’s to say they didn’t drug Kate as well? What if something has happened to her – something bad? It occurs to me then that maybe she’s had an accident.

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