Forget Her Name(57)

‘You okay?’

‘Fine, thanks.’

‘So,’ Dominic says lightly, standing opposite and glancing at us both in turn, ‘I feel like I just interrupted something. Who asked you not to say what, Jasmine?’ His smile is steady but it still worries me. I know what he’s like when he thinks I’m hiding something from him. ‘Family secrets?’ he adds. ‘I’m one of the family now, you know. I get to hear about all those skeletons in the closet.’

Jasmine looks at me, her eyes wide and apprehensive.

‘Girl talk,’ I tell him quickly.

‘Hey, Dom, what do you think of this?’ Sally waves him over to see something on her smartphone that she and Louise have been laughing over.

Reluctantly, he turns to his boss. ‘What do I think of what?’

Jasmine mouths, ‘Sorry,’ to me behind his back.

I smile and take another sip of my white wine. I don’t want to drink too much. I’m already a little woozy and it could be a long night. As I put the glass down again, my gaze moves to Sally. She’s put the smartphone away, but is still looking at Dominic, a secret little smile on her face.

Taken aback, I flick a quick glance at Dominic, and he’s looking at Sally, too.

Also smiling.

A splinter of pain enters my heart.

It’s only a look, I tell myself. And indeed, a split second later Sally turns away to talk to Louise. Dominic returns to me and Jasmine, who is telling an anecdote about her mum and a pot of soft cheese, though I haven’t really been listening. Dominic grins at my cousin, adding something to the story. A flippant remark that makes Jasmine burst out laughing.

I laugh too, mechanically. But I’m still only half listening, agonisingly aware of the beating of my heart, deafening to my ears.

His boss.

God, he wouldn’t, surely?

We only just got bloody married. It makes no sense that he’d be playing around behind my back. Yet that look between them . . . what else could it mean?

Perhaps it’s a silly thing from the past. A one-night stand with his manager that he omitted to mention, long before I came along. I can’t hold something like that against him.

All the same, Dominic’s my husband now. He shouldn’t be looking at another woman like that – with that peculiarly intimate smile on his lips. It hurts just to remember it.

My hands curl into fists. Dominic’s been so demanding in bed lately. Almost brutal at times. I’ve been pretending I haven’t noticed the change. But I can’t keep hiding from the likeliest reason for this change in behaviour: I’m not exciting enough for him.

But Sally is?

I feel sick, and have to look away, struggling to breathe normally.

‘You okay?’ Jasmine asks.

Now Dominic turns to look at me. Louise and Sally, too.

Louise is concerned. ‘Cat, what is it?’

I fix them with my brightest smile, even though my heart feels like it’s breaking. ‘Nothing. It’s just my ankle. You know, the odd twinge.’

‘Ouch.’ Louise pulls a sympathetic face. ‘Poor you. And at Christmas too.’ She drains her glass of ale. ‘I should have given you a call when Dom told me. I feel bad about that. But it’s been so hectic at work. You sure you’re okay?’

‘Honestly, I’m fine,’ I say.

‘Let me get this straight,’ Jasmine says. ‘You fell down the cellar steps?’

‘That’s right.’

Sally is watching me now. Her smile is knowing. As if she thinks I’m one of those stupid, clumsy people who spend their lives getting into one scrape after another. ‘Head better now too?’

I manage a nod, remembering how friendly she was at the hospital that night, waving goodbye as the taxi pulled away. ‘All sorted.’

‘Kasia was telling me all about it this morning.’ Jasmine looks perplexed. ‘She said you thought you heard an intruder.’

‘A cat.’

Her eyebrows shoot up. ‘A cat? A cat in the cellar?’ She frowns. ‘Hold on, you don’t have a cat.’

I look at Dominic.

He puts his arm round my waist, his smile warm and understanding. ‘If Catherine says she heard a cat, then she heard a cat.’

Which is a very unsubtle way of saying he thinks I didn’t hear any such thing, but however crazy I am he is willing to support me one hundred per cent.

A group of hatted and scarved carol singers come into view, heading towards us from the pub round the corner, where we’ve heard them singing for the past half an hour. They stop a few yards away and start to sing ‘In the Bleak Midwinter’, two of their members walking among the drinkers, rattling buckets for a charity collection. Dominic puts a few quid in the bucket for us while I listen to the beautiful lyrics in a kind of trance. I think unwillingly of Rachel and the day she died: ‘Snow lay frozen, snow on snow, snow on snow . . .’ Why can’t I think of that day without feeling guilty? Is it because part of me was glad that my sister died, part of me wanted her dead? But how can I ever admit that to anyone?

Who would understand such a reaction? They would think I was a monster.





Chapter Thirty-Four

Dominic wanted to get a cab, but I told him I could manage the Tube. Though I hadn’t realised how packed it would be this late on Christmas Eve. With most lines closing soon for the holidays, the station is so busy we have to fight our way down the platform. Dominic helps me, and I put my arm around his shoulders. Though I don’t really need it. My ankle is far less painful now. But I like the way he’s holding me close. Or am I holding him close? Making sure he doesn’t stray?