The Guilty Couple(7)
‘Gracie.’ I take a step towards her and a spark of fear crosses her face. She thinks I’m going to hurt her. The thought sends a spike of pain through my heart. ‘It’s okay,’ I step back again, hands raised. ‘I’m not … I’m … I just … I just wanted to hug you. I’m sorry, I know this is a shock and I’m not dealing with it the right way.’
Tears spark in my eyes and I glance back at the car, not wanting her to see them. Ayesha is sitting forward in her seat with her elbows on the steering wheel, worry written all over her face.
When I turn back to look at my daughter she’s got her phone in her hands once again, her eyes fixed to the screen.
‘Please,’ I say, ‘don’t tell Daddy or Granny that you’ve seen me.’
‘You don’t get to tell me what to do.’ Her voice breaks mid-sentence and I see a glimpse of the daughter I left behind as she fights to stay in control of her emotions.
‘You’re right. I don’t, but I do love you, Grace. I need you to know that. I know you’re angry with me and I understand why. But if you tell anyone about this then I’ll be sent back to prison.’
‘Good.’ The word is a grunt from her throat but there’s no force behind it.
‘Ayesha gave me one of her old phones,’ I add, ‘and she bought me a Giffgaff SIM so I’ve got a new number. I wrote it down for you.’
I dig into the pocket of my sweatshirt and pull out a folded piece of paper. Grace glances up as I hold it out towards her, then looks back down at her phone.
‘I’ll just put it here, shall I?’ There’s a bin to my left with a broken umbrella resting against the base. I tuck the paper between the bent fronds. I can tell Grace is paying attention, despite the phone in her hands. Her body is tense, primed to run or react.
‘I’m going to go back to Ayesha’s flat now. I’ve written her address down too, just in case. It would be nice to text each other, sweetheart. I have missed you so much.’
My heart pounds as I walk back to Ayesha’s car. Please, I will my daughter, don’t let me go. But Grace doesn’t look up and she doesn’t run and hug me. She continues to stare down at her phone as Ayesha wordlessly starts up the engine and pulls into the road. I twist round in my seat staring desperately at the angry, hunched shape of my daughter as she grows smaller and smaller, and then disappears.
Chapter 5
DOMINIC
It is seven thirty in the morning and Dom is in bed with his arms above his head and his gaze fixed on the ceiling. He should be basking in a postcoital glow, but instead he is irritated. DS Danielle Anderson shouldn’t be lying naked beside him, the duvet bunched over her hips. She should be in her own house, not his.
His plan had been to take her to a nice little eatery in Clapham for lunch then break the news that the on-off relationship they’d been having for the last five years was over. He knew she wouldn’t make a scene in a public place, she had too much self-respect, and, true to form, Dani hadn’t made a scene. She’d accepted the news with a shrug of her shoulders and a ‘c’est la vie’ little laugh then she’d ordered another bottle of wine and changed the subject. Three hours later Dom had an arm around her shoulders as they tumbled into a taxi. Thirty minutes after that, they were in bed.
Now what’s he supposed to do? He doesn’t want her to assume that he’s changed his mind about them splitting up so they’re probably going to have to have another conversation. He never meant to start up a relationship with Dani. She was his trainer, a side job she fitted in with her police work, and theirs was a strictly professional relationship. Well, it was until Dani asked him if he could lend her some money so she could send her sister to a private drug rehab clinic. At the time his stock market investments were doing well so he gave her five grand and said she didn’t have to repay it. She was adamant that she’d pay it back in instalments, but she only gave him two hundred pounds and Dom didn’t chase her for the rest. He’d been doing pretty well financially at the time and had liked the fact his money could help someone out. It had also struck him that it wouldn’t be a bad idea to have a cop in his pocket, just in case he ever needed her help.
It turned out that he did.
Their relationship – not that he’d ever use that term, what they share is a far more casual affair than that – began with a drunken shag after Dani met him for a drink following Liv’s trial. The sex is good – passionate and varied without the weight of love to complicate it. He’s never enquired whether Dani is sleeping with anyone else and she’s never asked him.
He pushes the duvet off and sits up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. Ghosting Dani would infuriate her. He’s going to have to bite the bullet and explain that what just happened was a spontaneous goodbye shag. She appreciates plain speaking, it’s one of the things he’s always liked about her.
‘Dani—’
‘Dom—’
Their voices overlap and Dom hesitates. Maybe they’re thinking along the same lines. If she wants to get there first then she’s welcome to.
He nods. ‘You go.’
Dani sits up, cradling the duvet to her chest, and Dominic feels a pang – not of regret per se, but of longing for something he’ll never have again. With her pale brown eyes, slim but curvy body and shoulder-length chestnut hair swept into a side fringe, she has a look of forties film star Gene Tierney in the film Laura, but more bed-rumpled and real than primped and polished. Not that Dani would have the first idea who Gene Tierney is.