The Girl I Used to Be(24)



It was a video of me.



* * *



*

WHEN I HEARD my own voice, I nearly jumped out of my skin.

“I don’t know. I’m not sure I would have married him if I’d known.” My cheeks were pink and a glance at my eyes made it clear I was drunk. “It’s not that he’s lazy,” I heard. My tone was confidential, as though I were telling a secret, and my voice was husky. “Well, he is lazy sometimes!” On the video I laughed, just a bit too loud, and covered my mouth to stop myself. “God, he’s so lazy at times.” I sounded irritated now, rather than fond. “It’s just that when he said he’d stay at home with Rory, I didn’t think he meant forever! I just wish . . .” My voice became pensive then. “I just wish I’d been able to stay at home, too. Instead of him. I wish I’d had that chance.” I looked up at the person I was speaking to. “You only get one chance, don’t you?”

On the screen I picked up my glass of wine and drank some. A little wine smile appeared around my mouth. I said, “What?” and then laughed, using a napkin to wipe it away.

The person I was speaking to said something then. In the car I strained to hear it, but I couldn’t. On the screen I replied, “Well, that’s what he wants. And he wants to try for another baby now. I’m just worried that he’ll never go back to work.” Again, the other person spoke. I could see my own face in the video, drunkenly focusing on what was being said. Then I said, “I don’t know. I just don’t know if I would marry him again, knowing what it would be like.”

The video stopped there, frozen with my face in a grimace, my glass in my hand.



* * *



*

I STARED DOWN at the screen, my mind whirring. What on earth was this? I had no memory of saying it to anyone. I hadn’t even thought it, or not for a while, anyway, and only then in a temper. I wanted to play it again but now the list of messages I’d received appeared and next to WatchingYou it said Video Unavailable.

I scrolled through the messages. The last one I’d had, prior to this, was one I’d had from Caitlin the other day. She’d sent me some photos of toys and clothes that she wanted my opinion on for Rory’s birthday. Those photos were still there.

I swiped the Instagram app so that it disappeared from my screen, then reopened it. I could still see that WatchingYou had sent me a video, but that it was unavailable.

I felt like I was about to hyperventilate. Where was the message? Who had sent it to me?

And then I realized. In the video I was wearing that dress I’d worn in London, the night I had a meal with David. Although most of the video showed just my face, there was a moment when I picked up my glass where I’d seen a flash of a dark green shoulder strap. One strap must have slipped down my arm—it was always doing that—and it had almost looked like I was naked.



* * *



*

I DROVE SLOWLY back to Chester, my mind racing. When I got back into the office, all was quiet. A couple was leaving as I entered, their hands full of brochures. I forced myself to smile at them, to ask them whether they’d gotten what they’d come for, and they promised they’d be in touch when they’d looked through the house details. All the time I was thinking about the video, the way I appeared. Drunk. Flirty. Betraying my husband without a second thought.

Brian was on the phone; it sounded as though he was talking to a tenant about rent that was overdue. I looked at him, knowing I should ask him what was going on, but I couldn’t concentrate on anything else but my own fears. He gave me a thumbs-up so I let it go. I knew he’d manage without my input.

Rachel was typing on her computer and Sophie was washing up some cups in the kitchen. I took a bottle of water from the fridge, found some painkillers in my drawer, and sank into my office chair.

“You look tired,” said Rachel. “Is everything okay?” I didn’t know where to start. I looked over at her, just dying to confide in someone. She smiled at me. “Rory okay?”

Rory was about the only thing that was okay, I thought. I wondered what Rachel would say if I said, Yes, actually, he’s fine, but everything else seems to be going wrong. I pictured her face if I told her what was actually going on and I thought it would only be a matter of seconds before she told Sophie.

I knew that the only people I really trusted were Joe and Caitlin. The only people I wanted to talk to were the ones who mustn’t know what was going on.





SIXTEEN


I LET EVERYONE at the office leave a few minutes early, saying I would be okay to lock up. I put the Closed sign on the door and put the latch down, then went through to the back and made sure the door to the small backyard was locked, too. When I was certain I was the only person in the office and nobody else could get in, I sat back at my desk and downloaded the CCTV footage for the car park.

I own the tiny car park behind the office. Because of the security systems in place, we have to lock up and leave via the front door, then go round the corner into the car park. There was room for only six cars and the spaces were clearly marked. After the incident last year when my car was damaged, I’d installed a cheap CCTV camera to record vehicles entering and leaving the car park. I wondered whether David had parked there when he’d come into the office. I couldn’t remember whether I’d asked him when we drove off where he’d parked.

Mary Torjussen's Books