Players, Bumps and Cocktail Sausages (Silence #3)(2)

“Don’t take your belt off yet!” I said. “Remember what I told you could happen?”

“I fly out of the window, and my brains will fall out.”

I nodded once. “Exactly. You want to keep your brains in, right?”

“Yes.”

“Good girl.”

I parked beside Oakley’s car and unbuckled Everleigh’s seat. Okay so telling a kid her brains would fall out if she didn’t wear a seat belt wasn’t exactly appropriate, but sometimes you had to use scare tactics to get the little buggers to play ball.

Cole had his own office, which Everleigh skipped to, waving and saying hello to her dad’s colleagues. She walked through the building as if she owned it.

“Come on, Uncle Jasper!”

“Sorry,” I muttered, rolling my eyes.

Everleigh pushed Cole’s office door open and skipped up to Oakley, shoving her arms out to her.

“Hey, baby,” Oakley said, picking her up.

“Mummy, what does bwoody mean?”

Oakley looked up and scowled.

“You’re not getting those sweets now,” I told Everleigh.

“Jasper,” Oakley said sounding just like our mum when she told me off. “Stop using inappropriate language around my daughter. And stop bribing her not to tell on you!”

Everleigh stuck her tongue out, and I glared. We were usually a team. I was cool Uncle Jasper, and she usually sided with me. Traitor.

“Slip of the tongue. Anyway, I wanna take the little angel swimming. That okay with you?”

She bit her lip and looked torn.

“You promise you won’t leave her for a second?”

“You know I won’t.”

“She’ll love it,” Cole said, looking at my little sister in a sappy, loving way that made me want to throw the hot drink he held in his face.

To say I was overprotective of my grown-up, twenty-four-year-old sister was an understatement. After what happened to her as a child I never wanted to let her out of my sight. I looked hard into everything, making sure there were no signs I was missing again. Cole was all right though. We’d been friends since we were kids, and then there was that him being pathetic and pining after her when we moved to Australia for four years thing. Anyone else and their tea would be scolding their face right now.

Oakley nodded. “Yeah, she will. Do not let her–”

“Out of my sight,” I said, holding my hands up and finishing her sentence. “She’s safe with me. You know that.”

“I know. I trust you.”

Trust was a huge thing for Oakley. For me, too. My sister didn’t trust her daughter with many people, and Everleigh had never been to nursery or playgroup. I worried how Oakley would cope when she went to school. Not well, probably. But then I think I’d worry myself sick over it too.

“Good.” I sat on the desk. “You wanna go swimming, Everleigh?”

“Yeah! And Auntie Abby?”

My jaw tightened.

“No, Auntie Abby’s at work.”

Then she was going out, again. I was all for her spending time with colleagues and talking about whatever boring teaching things they talked about, but I was getting tired of spending quality time with the T-fucking-V.

Oakley gave me her there’s-more-to-this-you’re-not-saying look, and I knew I was telling her all about it, whether I wanted to or not.

“Cole, why don’t you take Everleigh to get a biscuit from the staff room?” she said.

Subtle, Oakley...

“Uncle Jasper, is Mummy making me leave so she can talk to you?” Everleigh asked me.

I smiled. I had taught her well.

“Yep, exactly. Mummy wants to talk to me, so she’s getting you and Daddy out by secretly bribing you with a biscuit.”

“Is it about you saying bwoody?”

“Okay, off you go,” I said gently pushing her shoulders. She skipped out with Cole.

“Kids, huh?” I shrugged, grimacing.

“I’ll let that one go. What’s going on with Abby? That’s five Fridays in a row she’s cancelled plans with you or just gone out.”

I shrugged. “Nothin’ really. She’s just going out with work people.”

“Right, but you’re not happy with that.”

“I’m not one of those bunny boilers, Oakley. If Abby wants to go out, I’m not gonna tell her she can’t.”

“I know that. You know we’re going to get to it soon so let’s skip the ‘I’m a good husband’ bit – because I already know you are – and get to the part where you’re honest.”

My breath left my lungs in a rush, and the words came out.

“What if she’s…”

“Cheating?”

I nodded. I forgave her the first time; we were teenagers, and she was stupid. After five years apart we’d grown up, and I thought she was ready to be serious. She was the only girl I had ever been serious about, and now she was my wife. Getting over a cheating teenage girlfriend was one thing, getting over a cheating wife was another. And no way in hell was I going to forgive that again.

“Do you honestly believe she is? After last time? I’m sure she wouldn’t be that stupid to risk losing you again.”

“I don’t know what I think. All I know is that’s she’s going out more and is distant at home. We haven’t had sex in–”