The Girl I Used to Be(41)
She looked up, astonished. “But you can’t do that!”
I laughed. “Why not?”
“But . . .” Her face was pink with embarrassment. “What about Lucy? I thought she’d be coming back soon. I don’t want her to think I’m taking her job.”
“Lucy’s great, really great, but she only wants casual work for the next couple of years. Even then I think she’ll just want part time. Anyway, I’m offering you a promotion; you shouldn’t say someone else would be more suitable!”
She looked awkward and I realized just how young she was. She dressed older than her years and always looked well groomed, as though she wanted to be taken seriously at work, but in reality she was still very young. I knew I’d done the right thing; she deserved this promotion.
Just then Sophie returned with the cakes and I stood to go back to my desk.
“Please would you make us some coffee, Sophie? We’ve got something to celebrate.”
TWENTY-NINE
Tuesday, August 8
THERE WAS JUST one day to go before Joe and Rory returned, and the house was lonelier than ever without them. As soon as I got home from work that night, I put the chicken and salad I’d picked up from the local deli into the fridge and went upstairs to have a bath. I poured bath oil into the running water and found my Kindle. I locked the bathroom door firmly behind me—something I rarely did when Joe and Rory were at home—and put my phone by the side of the bath. I wasn’t going to take any chances.
I lay in the bath and thought of Rachel and her pride in her promotion—she seemed embarrassed that her skills had been noticed and hardly met my eye after I told the others. Sophie was the opposite; she was very keen that I should know she was progressing well, and I half expected her to ask whether she could have Rachel’s job, despite the fact that her only experience was a year in administration, but luckily she didn’t.
I sent Joe a text asking when Rory would be free for a chat, and he replied immediately, asking me to call in an hour. Perfect. I picked up my Kindle and started to read. The room was steamy now and the late-summer sun shone through the window, making it hard to see the screen. I jumped out of the bath to open the window, then sank back into the warm water to read some more.
I was just drifting into a nap when I heard a ping from my Kindle and jolted awake. My phone pinged then, too, a second later. I clicked on the notification on my Kindle and my e-mail box opened.
I didn’t recognize the sender’s address. I frowned. Was this junk mail? The heading was Are you ready?
My stomach fell. I knew this was meant for me. I clicked on the e-mail. There seemed to be nothing there and then I saw a link. Should I click it? I thought of what Stella had said, that I shouldn’t open any attachments or links from an e-mail, but I couldn’t resist. I touched it lightly and held my breath.
An image appeared. A gif. It was a timer and it was counting down in seconds. The time left on the image was five hours and forty minutes. I stared at it as the numbers counted down then looked up at the clock on the bathroom shelf. It was now six twenty P.M.
It was counting down to midnight.
In a panic I clambered out of the bath, pulled a towel around me, and sat on the chair in the bathroom with my Kindle and phone. The same message was left unopened on my phone; it hadn’t yet registered that I’d opened it on my Kindle.
My heart was thumping hard. What was going to happen at midnight? I would be here alone. Suddenly I was so scared I just didn’t know what to do.
As quietly as I could, I slid the lock on the bathroom door and peeped out into the bedroom. Everything looked the same as when I left it to have my bath. I pushed a chair against the bedroom door and dressed hurriedly. My mind worked frantically—what was going to happen? I couldn’t stay here, that much I knew. I had to get out.
I checked my messages to see what Caitlin had said about when she was returning home. It was as I thought; she wouldn’t be back for another week, so I couldn’t go to her house. My mind raced as I tried to think where I could go to. I thought of my other friends, but quickly abandoned that idea. Freya was a friend I’d made while I was on maternity leave with Rory; we still met up every now and again, but she’d had twins a year after her son was born and her life was really hectic now. Besides, she didn’t have a spare room; I knew she wouldn’t be able to put me up. It was only until tomorrow, when Joe was back, but even so I couldn’t just turn up there; I hadn’t even seen her for a few months, though we’d kept in touch on Facebook. And my friend Grace’s husband had been unfaithful last year and had walked out when he was confronted; he’d been meeting the other woman in hotels all over the place, so I didn’t want to tell her what I might have done in case she thought I was the same as him. Really, I wanted Caitlin, but she was Joe’s sister—how could I tell her I might have been unfaithful to her brother? I’d lose her. I’d lose him.
I started to panic. If I lost Joe, I could lose Rory, too. Joe was the one who took care of him each day, and yes, he could only do that because I worked all the hours I did, but the fact remained that he was Rory’s primary caregiver. If Joe left me, he might take Rory with him. They might go and live in Ireland.
I felt dizzy at the thought of that. I was not going to lose my son. I wouldn’t do anything that would put me in that position. But what could I do?