Pippa laid a mug of tea on a coaster in front of me and took a slurp of hers. When I asked her if she believed Juan had crashed his car, her eyes glazed over and, before I could read anything into her odd expression (she was still in love with him, wasn’t she?), her cell phone bleeped. A text. Her gaze slid over me then shifted uneasily around the room. “Excuse me, I just need to make a quick work call.” The way she slithered out of the room, throwing a sly glance my way before she closed the door behind her, spoke volumes. In the time I’d been at her house, I knew it wasn’t characteristic of her to conduct business calls in private. From what I’d seen, she loved showing off about work, loved sharing the scoop.
I got up from the sofa and padded to the door, turned the handle as noiselessly as I could, and strained my ears towards the corridor. She had gone into the kitchen. I could hear her muffled voice. I lifted my hair away from my ears.
“Thank God you called. I wasn’t sure if you’d got my message. I’ve been waiting for your call for days.”
Who was she talking to?
“Yup, she’s here with me. Clean as a whistle. All new. What? No, she’s fine. But there’s something… look, she knows the whole story. No, not that… I didn’t, I couldn’t tell her. Please don’t say that. Look, I was weak, I admit it. I just couldn’t bring myself to. Don’t be angry. Listen, instead of screaming at me about what I should’ve done, can’t we just deal with the situation at hand?”
There was a long lull, and I thought Pippa had hung up, but then I heard her stifling a sob. Did I just hear her say “Dan?” My heart drummed with terror. So Pippa was in with the triplets? She’d been “weak,” come and saved me, regretted it, and now had to deal with “the situation at hand?”
“I’m sorry, please understand the position you put me in, I—” Silence. And then, “I agree, too risky. What? I don’t think so. I don’t know if she’d fall for that.”
Too right I won’t bloody fall for that.
A pause. More hushed words being spoken on the other end of the line.
“Okay. Where shall we meet? I’ll try my best.”
Silence again, then the sound of Pippa scraping a chair and then talking again. This time it did sound like a work call.
I closed the door and raced back to the sofa, laying myself down horizontally. Pippa opened the door. I kept my eyes squeezed shut but after a beat looked up at her in a faux groggy haze. I moaned, “I’m not feeling so good, Pippa. Feel a bit queasy.”
“Look, I need you to get dressed and come with me.”
“Where?” I asked, curious as to what lie she was going to cook up.
“I’ve got to go out. Urgent work matter. It’s about the bridge. Apparently it should’ve been upgraded years ago, and now everyone’s up in arms. I need to get the piece written, pronto. Have to meet one of the structural engineers. I don’t want to leave you alone in the house.” Her words ran together, her voice tense, clipped. Irritated even. Her shifty eyes darted this way and that.
I laughed. “You expect me to believe that? You’ve left me alone before.”
“Yes, but I’ve been thinking about the triplets, and I think you’re right; they’re too dangerous. That was a nasty bash they gave you. I want you to come with me.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Pippa. I don’t feel well. I’m staying right here.”
“Please. Please. I can’t tell you more but please trust me.”
“No way am I going anywhere.”
We went on like this for several minutes, me refusing to budge. “Go, Pippa. I’ll be fine. Take care on the road—it looks like it’s still pouring outside.”
Finally Pippa left. When I heard her SUV purr out of earshot, and as soon as I was sure the coast was clear, I raided various wardrobes, found some sneakers of her niece’s, and got dressed and ready. I picked up the landline and called Sam, the contractor, to ask him to meet me at Cliffside, but his voice message picked up saying he was on vacation.