The Guilty Couple(13)
I don’t need to hear Dani’s side of things. I can’t remember what I said that drunken evening when she claimed I said I wished my husband were dead but I know she lied and I’m pretty sure Dominic paid her to do so. Initially I assumed that he was so angry at me for leaving him for Jack that he framed us both. He couldn’t bear the thought of Grace living with another man. I told Ayesha my theory the first time she visited me in jail. She regarded me dubiously. Wasn’t framing someone a pretty extreme way of enacting revenge? Dominic was risking a prison sentence himself if he’d got caught. Why not fight me in the courts and make out I was an unfit mother? The more I thought about it the more convinced I became that she had a point. It was an extreme thing to do. There had to be a reason he wanted me out of the way.
‘Olivia,’ Nancy says now. ‘Don’t you think that—’
A cough from across the garage cuts her off. Ian is standing in the doorway to the kitchen, his six-foot-four frame almost filling the space. He’s grown a beard since the last time I saw him. It’s wiry and gingery like his mop of wild hair. He’s wearing a navy suit with his tie loosened and the top button of his shirt undone. His murky green eyes flick from me to his wife.
‘What’s she doing here?’
‘Hi, Ian,’ I say before Nancy can speak. ‘Sorry to surprise you like you this but I needed to get a few things.’
‘Liv—’ Nancy starts, but Ian talks over her.
‘I’d like you to leave, please.’
I take a step towards him, horrified by the tight set of his face. He looks nothing like the Ian I knew and loved. Who is this coldly polite man who can barely bring himself to look at me?
‘Can we talk about this? Please? I really don’t want to lose your friendship. I know what you think I’ve done but—’
‘Just go. Please.’
Nancy drops the bin bag she’s holding and joins my side. ‘Ian, don’t be like this. At least hear her out.’
‘I don’t need to hear anything she’s got to say.’
Five minutes ago I felt comfortably warm from the champagne and sorting through the bags, but the temperature has dropped since Ian appeared.
Tears prick at my eyes as I pick up the small pile of things I’ve selected from the box of underwear and jewellery, then I turn to Nancy. ‘I’ll call you later, okay?’
‘Of course.’ We hug tightly then I walk towards the doorway. Ian steps out of my way.
‘I don’t know who you are anymore,’ he says softly as I leave the kitchen and enter the hallway. ‘I wish you’d never met Jack.’
Chapter 8
DOMINIC
Dominic sits in his car in the underground car park beneath the shining tower block in South London where he works as a chartered surveyor, his burner phone in his hand. He really, really wants a drink. He’s spent the whole day stewing about Grace and her fucking flute, and what she might have overheard. Then there’s the threat Dani made. He’s been distracted in meetings all day and he even swerved an appointment to survey a multi-million-pound town house in Chelsea for an important client, making his PA ring up with a pathetic health-related excuse. If he doesn’t anaesthetise some of the stress he’s feeling, he’s going to explode.
D wanted more money. He bashes out a message, using the buttons of the phone as miniature punchbags for his thumbs. I said no.
His phone pings with a response.
And?
He types back.
She threatened to shop me.
His phone pings again.
She won’t. She’s got too much to lose.
Dominic runs a hand over the back of his neck. It’s tacky with sweat and the collar of his shirt feels too tight. He loosens his tie then turns his attention back to his phone.
She’s knows L is out.
So?
He turns the key in the ignition and puts the air conditioning on full blast. It’s not a hot day but it seems airless in his car and he feels claustrophobic, sitting in the low light of the car park with thousands of tonnes of glass and metal above his head.
It feels dangerous.
DO NOT LOSE YOUR SHIT NOW, the reply arrives, all in caps.
But Dominic is losing his shit. He’s on the verge of bankruptcy, his daughter hates him, his ex-wife is out of prison and he’s pissed off someone who could bring the fragile pile of cards that is his life tumbling down.
Another text flashes up on the screen.
There is a way out of this.
His stomach churns. He knows exactly what the sender is referring to. It’s something he’s been saying no to for years but he’s running out of options.
Ok, he types back. Tell me what to do.
Chapter 9
OLIVIA
I feel as though I’m being tailed by two geriatric private eyes. Esther and George Sutherland are pretending to be interested in the Gorilla Kingdom but, whenever the distance between us increases by a metre or two, Esther gives George a sharp little nudge and they trail after us again.
Grace hasn’t said a word to me other than the quietest of ‘Hi’s when we met at the entrance. She looked like a comma, head down, spine curved, her body language screaming, ‘I want to be anywhere but here.’ But it was me she chose to walk beside, after her grandparents paid for her ticket, not them. I’m taking it as a positive sign. I’ll take anything as a sign right now.