Silent Child(62)

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

I was already off my chair and searching for my car keys.





31


After a quick phone call, Josie told me she was in, and that she hadn’t been at work for a number of days. Even though I’d asked her to promise me she’d go to work, I’d expected as much. In all honesty, if Jake left me without a word I wouldn’t bother with work either. So I hopped into my car and drove across the village and up the winding hill towards the Barratts’ home. It was warm enough to leave the house without a jacket, which was unusual for mid-October, and the blue sky above seemed almost superficial, or at the very least, fleeting. I was waiting for dark clouds to plunge us into darkness. While I’d been going through hell, the weather had mostly been fair and mild, belying my own stormy disposition.

Yet another way the world decided to betray me.

I took it steady around the narrow roads, pulling in warily when meeting other cars.

The Barratt home seemed eerily serene when I parked the car. The mild weather meant Josie’s yellow pansies were still in bloom in pretty pots around the front door. But my gaze did not linger on them. I found it difficult to look at anything beautiful during those weeks.

Josie answered the door after the first knock. Her large blue eyes were red-rimmed and I noticed that she clutched her mobile phone in one hand. She was wearing leggings and an oversized jumper.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t come earlier,” I said.

“Are you kidding?” she replied. “I’m ashamed for not coming to you. I mean, I know you said you wanted space and that you were fine, but still. With everything you’re dealing with, my problem is tiny.”

“Have you heard from him?”

Josie sighed and led the way through her house to the kitchen. Her messy bun bobbed up and down as she dragged her feet over the carpet. Her body was loose and lazy, but it almost seemed like an act, as though deep down she was in real turmoil. I knew her well enough to know that she dealt with stress by trying to pretend it wasn’t happening, or at the very least pretending she was fine with it all. Josie was a ‘fake it ’til you make it’ person. She wanted to see the bright side, but I wondered whether, when she was on her own at night, it really worked.

“Nothing. Not even a text. But guess what? He posted something on Facebook.”

“What?”

She nodded, gesturing to an open laptop on the breakfast bar. Hugh’s profile was on the screen. For the first time I realised that he’d updated his profile picture. It used to be a photograph of him and Josie on a skiing holiday, but now it was a solo picture of him smiling on top of a jet ski. Next to his profile picture was a status where he had ‘checked in’ to the McCarran airport in Las Vegas.

“What?” I said again. “What on earth is he doing there?”

“I spoke to Steven again. Apparently he’s not replying to any messages from the family. Steven admitted that he knew about the affair but not the extent of it all. I bet they’re gambling through our money as we speak. Damn it, Emma, why did you have to be pregnant right now? I need a stiff drink.”

“Hey, I won’t judge you.” I smiled. It felt good to talk about any other topic than the investigation with Aiden. “This all seems so out of character, though. Has he taken off like this before?”

“That’s the thing,” Josie said. Her eyes lit up with the glitter of anger. “Steven said that he has done this before, not that I knew about it. He took some receptionist to Cornwall for a dirty weekend.” She uncorked a bottle of Malbec and began to pour.

“Fuck.” I glanced around the kitchen searching for evidence with how Josie was coping. Most people would be relieved that there weren’t any Chinese takeaway cartons or dirty dishes in the sink. The place was pristine, which was somewhat disconcerting. Had the weight of her husband’s activities truly hit her? “I’m so sorry, Jo.”

She shrugged. “I knew it was coming. Deep down, I honestly think I’m relieved.” She took a gulp of the Malbec. “Don’t look at me with those big puppy-dog eyes. I know you think I’m going to go off the rails, but there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Are you sure, because—”

“It’s all in the past.” Josie set her wine glass down on the kitchen side with a finality that warned me not to delve into the murky past I was about to bring up. “Now, what can I get you? Herbal tea? Sparkling water?”

I groaned. “What I’d give for a nice gin and tonic. Or a measure of whisky.” I lifted my fingers and pinched them together. “I was this close to opening a bottle of vodka the day Aiden came home. And then this week has got worse and worse. Did you see they’d arrested the duke?”

“Arsehole,” she said with real venom. “Do you think he…” She swallowed, uncertain whether to say it or leave the implication hanging.

“I honestly don’t know, and that’s the worst of it. I just want the person who hurt Aiden to be behind bars. I want all of this to be over.”

She nodded. “Well, I always thought he was a shifty fucker. Don’t worry, Em. If he did it, the police will find the evidence and they’ll put him away. What are they doing for the investigation now?”