The Stepmother(35)

 

‘You’ve been texting?’ This is the last thing we all need.

 

‘Er, no!’ He gives me what we used to call a ‘Paddington Bear hard stare’. ‘Hardly. She’s been texting me more like.’

 

‘How did she get your number?’

 

‘I dunno. Can you just put the telly back on please?’

 

I do it slowly. ‘Are you sure you didn’t give her your number, Frankie?’

 

‘Positive.’

 

‘And – have you answered her?’

 

‘Once or twice.’ He shrugs again. ‘But not when she texts things like that.’ He nods at the phone.

 

‘Like what?’ Oh God.

 

‘Like, “My mate Gemma thinks you’re peng.” ’ He looks disdainful. ‘She’s just a kid.’

 

‘Peng?’ I’m none the wiser.

 

‘Like, fit,’ he says – and then he has the good grace to look embarrassed. Our eyes meet, and I can’t help myself: I grin, and then he grins, and then we are both laughing.

 

‘Oh dear,’ I say when we stop. ‘Maybe best not to say anything to Matt.’

 

At least she can’t be quite so upset any more, about the dog.

 

‘Don’t be daft.’ Frankie chews on a nail. ‘As if.’

 

‘I’ll – try and have a word with her. Try and let her down gently.’ But I think about the state she was in when she left – and I think it’s unlikely she’ll ever heed any advice I give her.

 

‘Bring Jenna round for dinner, why don’t you?’ I change the subject. ‘Or Sunday lunch. I’d like to meet her. And now explain to me exactly how Sherlock knows that woman’s just been in a first-class train carriage on the way from Dorset?’

 

I try so hard to enjoy my night with Frank; I mean I do enjoy it. But now I am alarmed by this new Scarlett thing. Please, keep away from Frankie, I think. That’s all we need.

 

 

 

 

 

Nineteen

 

 

 

 

 

Jeanie

 

 

 

 

 

9 February 2015

 

 

 

 

 

I’ve finally told Matt the truth. I can’t believe it – but it’s out in the open at last!

 

I told him because I was pretty sure that Scarlett had found out, and that she would tell him before I did. I was convinced that it must have been her poking around in my drawers – and probably her that had left the envelope in the spare room, along with her earring.

 

So I cooked the best dinner I could, fed Matt a bottle of Bordeaux (from his own wine rack, it must be said – I know nothing about wine) and a rare steak, managing to get his attention off the FT rolling news for long enough to tell him. It was obvious that he hadn’t known – his surprise was evident.

 

I told him I’ve got a second interview for the college job – and he was pleased – and then I told him I’d been worried about applying to teach again. Deep breath: because of the Seaborne incident.

 

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ He put his hand over mine on the table after I’d finished talking. ‘I’m sorry you went through that.’

 

The flood of relief washing through me was immense; tears sprang to my eyes.

 

‘Poor Jeanie. What a nightmare for you, hon.’

 

Holding back my tears, I asked him if he remembered the email I’d sent to Munich. Fortunately, he did – and that he’d not read it.

 

‘So – are you okay now?’ He was tentative. ‘It’s all – behind you?’

 

‘Yes,’ I said, and I felt so relieved, so free and light that I started laughing, topping up my glass and his, wanting to get up and dance.

 

‘What’s so funny?’ He looked confused.

 

‘Nothing. Everything. I was just so worried – and I shouldn’t have been. I knew you’d understand.’ I threw my arms round him and kissed him all over his face and neck. ‘Oh I’m so pleased, Matty. I love you so much.’

 

It took a lot to say those words.

 

 

 

 

 

Twenty

 

 

 

 

 

Jeanie

 

 

 

 

 

11 February 2015