The First Mistake(19)

‘Not tonight,’ I say, rolling away from him.

‘Seriously?’ he asks, surprised by the refusal.

Him and me both. I can’t remember a time when I’ve rejected him. But if he thinks he’s going to go out, do what he wants, and have me as a subservient wife to come home to, he’s got another think coming.





8


With other things occupying my thoughts, I completely forgot that my car still hadn’t come back from its service, and it’s not until the morning that I realize I can’t drop Olivia over to Beth’s house like I normally do on a Saturday.

‘Is there any chance you can pick Olivia up from here?’ I ask when I call her.

‘Mmm, it’s going to be a bit tricky,’ she says. ‘Is Nathan there?’

‘Er, yes,’ I say absently, wondering when, and if, I’m going to be brave enough to ask him about the earring.

‘So, can you not borrow his car to drop Olivia over?’ says Beth.

‘I guess so,’ I reply, wondering why she can’t pick up from here, just this once. ‘Actually, I might see if Nathan can drop her over. I think he’s got a few things to do out and about this morning.’

There’s a muffled silence at the end of the line. ‘No, don’t worry,’ she says, suddenly. ‘I’ll come and get her, but can you have her ready to come out? I’ll text when I’m outside.’

‘Yep, sure. Is everything okay?’

‘Yeah, I’m just running really late and I’ve got a million and one things to do.’

‘Okay, well if you’re sure you don’t mind. I’ll pick them up after dance class and drop Millie back.’

‘Thanks,’ she says. ‘That would be great.’

I’m in the hallway, helping Olivia with her shoes, when the doorbell goes.

‘Oh God, that’ll be Beth,’ I say as I struggle with the buckle. ‘Quick, get your ballet shoes. They’re in the bag in the utility room.’

I swing open the door to find a beaming woman standing on the other side, peering through the foliage of a huge bouquet of flowers.

‘Are you the lucky lady?’ she asks.

I shrug my shoulders nonchalantly, though my brain is working overtime as it tries to recall today’s date and its possible significance. Have I forgotten our wedding anniversary, or the day we met? Both of which we normally celebrate.

‘I guess so,’ I say, holding out my hands.

‘Mind, they’re heavy,’ she says. ‘There’s been a fair few quid spent on these.’

I don’t need her to tell me how generous the sender has been. That much is obvious. ‘Thanks,’ I say, as I take the weight in my arms.

She’s already in her van and pulling away by the time I’ve opened the card.

To my darling Rachel

Sorry, please forgive me.

I love you.

x

I re-read the card a couple of times in confusion, but the message is too short for me to have misread.

‘Blimey, what have you done to deserve those?’ asks Sophia sleepily as she comes down the stairs, rubbing her eyes. I quickly shove the card into my jeans pocket.

I smile tightly at her, my lips pressed firmly together. ‘I have no idea.’

My phone is pinging with messages from Beth to say she is outside.

‘Go, go, go,’ I say to Olivia as she rushes past me in the hall, only to get to the front door and turn around to come back and give me a kiss.

‘See you later,’ she says. ‘Love you.’

‘Oh, you really didn’t have to,’ jests Nathan as I walk into the kitchen, the flowers weighing heavily in my arms. I watch him closely as he looks at them, waiting for some kind of recognition. ‘I don’t even think we’ve got a vase big enough. What’s the occasion anyway? Who are they from?’

I look to him, to Sophia and back again. She must see the expression I’m trying so hard to disguise as she grabs a banana from the bunch going brown in the fruit bowl and scoots out of the room.

I resist the temptation to fix myself a stiff drink, even though I could kill for the shot of confidence that alcohol usually gives me. I reluctantly fill the kettle instead.

‘Oh, by the way,’ I say flippantly, though inside I’m anything but. ‘Thanks for letting me use your car yesterday.’

Nathan looks up from his iPad and waits for me to continue.

The earring is burning a hole in my pocket. ‘I’m not sure what it is, but I found this in it.’ I fish around in my jeans and hold it up in front of him.

He looks at it quizzically. ‘I’d suggest it’s an earring.’

‘Well, yes, I appreciate that, but whose is it?’

He looks to me then back at the earring. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Well, who’s been in your car? Perhaps we can narrow it down that way and get it back to them.’ I’m aware of an edge creeping into my voice and try harder to keep my tone neutral.

He shakes his head. ‘Sorry, I’m not sure what you’re implying here.’

‘I’m not implying anything,’ I say. ‘I’d just like to get the earring back to its rightful owner.’

‘Perhaps it’s Sophia’s,’ he says.