The Girl I Used to Be(30)

The house felt weird without Joe or Rory in it. I stood in Rory’s room and looked at his toys, at his little wooden bed and his bookcase, overflowing with the books I remembered from my own childhood. I would have given anything to have him there then, to kiss him as he slept, to feel him wriggle and then settle under my touch. I sat for a moment on his bed and held his pillow to my face, breathing in the familiar smell, holding it close in lieu of him. When I stood to put it back and straighten his quilt, I saw that his little toy rabbit, Buffy, was still there, stuffed down between the bed and the wall. Rory had slept with that rabbit every night of his life; I thought Joe must have had a nightmare putting him to bed without him tonight.

After I’d had a quick shower and was ready for bed, I switched on the lamps on either side of my bed and curled up under the quilt with Buffy in my arms. I called Joe but he didn’t pick up, and I guessed he’d be down at their local pub with Brendan and his dad by now, his happy mum left with all the children. I took a photo of myself holding Buffy close and sent it to Joe via text, with a message saying, Tell Rory I’m taking good care of Buffy and we can’t wait until you’re both back home. xxx

I wasn’t expecting a reply that night. He hadn’t seen Brendan for months and they’d be talking all night. I opened my Kindle and started to read, knowing I’d be asleep within minutes.

I was just on the brink of sleep when my phone gave a loud beep, making me jerk back to consciousness. Thinking it was Joe replying to my text, I reached over to grab my phone, hoping he’d sent a photo back.

He hadn’t.

On my screen was another Instagram message. As soon as I saw the name my stomach sank. WatchingYou. Again it said the person messaging would only know I’d seen their request if I chose Allow.

I sat up in bed and stared at the screen, my stomach tight with panic. I held my breath as I selected Allow. I couldn’t not see the message.

An image appeared on my screen. It was a photo of me, lying on a bed. My eyes were shut and I looked as though I was asleep.

I had a sheet wrapped loosely around my waist and legs and I was wearing no clothes—nothing at all.



* * *



*

I THINK THE photo must have been on my screen for about five seconds before it disappeared. All that was left was WatchingYou and Photo Unavailable.

My hands started to shake. When had that photo been taken? It wasn’t my bed at home, I knew that. We have a white wrought-iron bedstead and the bed in the photo was completely different.

And then I knew. I think I knew right from the moment I saw it, really, but had tried not to believe it. I lay back down on the bed and buried my face in the pillow. It was the hotel room I’d stayed in while I was in London, I was sure of it. It had had a brown suede headboard, and I knew the one in the photo was the same.

I had no memory of that photo being taken. How much had I drunk? How much would I had to have drunk to expose myself to another man? Fidelity was so important to Joe and me. We’d both been burned by people in the past; it was the one thing we agreed on.

Once that’s happened, the relationship’s over anyway, whether the other person knows or not, Joe had said, and I had agreed.

Did this mean my marriage was over?

The thought of that whipped me into action. I wasn’t going to let my marriage die without putting up a fight. I needed to go down there. I needed to go back to that hotel room and see what I could remember.





TWENTY-ONE


Friday, August 4

THE NEXT DAY I was at work early. I’d been awake most of the night worrying about what was going on. Everything that had happened kept rolling around my head. The photocopy of the receipt. The photo of David kissing me. The video of me saying horrible things about Joe. And now the naked photo. I felt like screaming.

I’d called Lucy at eight A.M.

“Lucy, it’s me, Gemma. I need to ask a huge favor. Are you free today?”

“Do you want me to come in? I can ask my mum to have Maisie after school. I can be there by ten if that’s any good.”

“Would you? That would be great. Brian will be in, but Sophie’s off today and I don’t want to leave Rachel on her own with sales.”

She agreed to that and sure enough she was there just after ten, ready to start the day.

“I’ve got to go back home,” I told them once everyone was in. “My mum’s got a hospital appointment so I said I’d go with her. I’d forgotten all about it.”

“Back to the Wirral?” asked Rachel. “Which hospital?”

Rachel and I had grown up in the same town, though I hadn’t known her as I was eight years older and we’d gone to different schools. When she’d come for an interview six months ago I’d read her application form and recognized the school she’d gone to. We’d talked for a while about the area. She’d gone to university in Liverpool but I’d been desperate to leave, and only went back on occasional visits.

“Arrowe Park.” I couldn’t think of another one offhand.

“Do you know that area, Rachel?” asked Lucy.

Rachel nodded. “We’re both from New Brighton.”

“Really? I didn’t know that. Did you know each other before you started work here?”

“No,” I said. “Obviously I’m older and we went to different schools.”