Her voice was rising to a scream.
“Cassie, please. Don’t be upset. Come here.”
Ryan spoke gently.
“Please, come into the lounge. Sit down.”
Cassie didn’t feel like sitting. She was far too angry. But Ryan shepherded her into the family room and somehow she found herself on the couch, remembering that this was where they had first kissed, and where he’d first told her that he wanted her to be a part of his life.
“Cassie, listen to me. Please.”
He sat next to her, his knee touching hers. Angrily, Cassie pulled her legs away. She didn’t want to touch him, ever again. It was all she could do to look into his handsome, lying face.
“We are separated. The divorce is pending. The only step that has to be completed is that some of the documents need signing. You are right, and I must apologize because I didn’t tell you how badly Trish was taking all of this.”
Cassie glared at him, challenging him to make her believe his version.
“She has been acting very erratically since we started the process. Coming back on short notice like this is just one example. There have been a few others.”
Cassie was going to demand that he name them, but Ryan continued.
“She suffers from depression. It’s been a problem for a while. Remember I said how demanding, how needy, she was becoming?”
Reluctantly Cassie nodded.
“It was symptomatic of what she was suffering, because I do understand it’s an illness. It meant I had to proceed very slowly with this. Even though our relationship isn’t what it was, I still feel responsible for her. I couldn’t even make a start on the process until her medication was right. That took months, and Cassie, they were not happy months.”
She stared at Ryan and no matter how hard she looked, she could only see truth in his eyes.
Then she remembered that Trish hadn’t looked like a depressed person. She knew herself what depression was like, how anxiety was the devil on your shoulder that never went away.
Although, perhaps Trish was able to hide it well, if her meds were finally in balance.
“She’s the mother of my children,” Ryan continued. “I would never forgive myself if my actions, my own selfishness, caused her to harm herself. So I have been patient. More patient, and more accommodating, than you’ll ever know.”
He sighed.
“This is just the latest hurdle but it’s the final one. I didn’t want her to come back here—but if she has had a hectic business trip and wants somewhere familiar to lay her head while this whole process wraps up, I can’t say no. Would you say no?”
“Where’s she been living?” Cassie challenged him.
“She has been renting an apartment close to Heathrow Airport. It makes sense for her to be there because she travels so much, but the problem is she has no friends or support structure nearby. I told her she should rent within the village until all this was finalized, but she refused. I guess she was worried that people might talk.”
Cassie shook her head.
“You didn’t even tell me. Do you have any idea how upset I felt when she walked in?”
Ryan leaned closer and she thought he wanted to take her hand, so she pulled it away and bunched her hands together in her lap.
“I didn’t know she was arriving now. She told me she was stopping by work first, and would get here after supper. I intended to sit down with you before we collected the children, and explain what was going to happen. I see she’s had a look at the timetable and has gone off to pick up the kids herself.”
“Yes,” Cassie said.
She suddenly felt like bursting into tears because she’d been longing to catch up with the children and to find out how their big performance in Canterbury had gone. It would have meant a lot to her to have been waiting when the bus arrived.
“Please, Cassie, help me get through this. It’s not going to be easy, but it hopefully won’t be for too long. If you want proof of my feelings toward you, I brought you a present. As a thank-you for being so special, and to remember the amazing experience we had while away.”
To Cassie’s astonishment, he produced a small velvet box from his pocket and handed it to her.
She opened it, realizing her hands were shaking.
Inside was a pair of gold earrings, with beautiful green jewels set in the shape of flowers.
“The stones are emeralds. When I saw them, I thought how beautiful that color would look on you. It’s a gift from the heart, because you’ve brought so much joy into my life, but it’s also a promise. We have a future together. We just have to get through the next few days. You are strong enough. I hope I’m strong enough.”
Cassie stared down at the earrings.
Did they make a difference?
She decided they did. Ryan’s calm, logical words had finally gotten through to her and they made sense. She accepted that this was just the final, difficult phase of a tricky divorce.
“Thank you,” she said. “I’ll try. But please, Ryan, this can’t go on too long.”
“It won’t,” he promised.
*
Trish arrived home with the children at five.
Cassie had hoped to hear all about their adventures, but when she came out of her room to greet them, she found herself facing two sullen children who barely acknowledged her. Madison headed straight for the bathroom, and Dylan folded himself down on his bean bag in the dining room.
Cassie hovered nervously at the dining room door.
“How was your trip?” she asked.
Dylan looked up from his book reluctantly.
“It was OK,” he said, and then turned back to his reading.
The bathroom door slammed, and Cassie hurried off, hoping to catch up with Madison, but she marched into her bedroom and closed the door firmly.
Standing outside, Cassie frowned. She was sure Madison had seen her, but the closed door was a clear message she didn’t want to talk.
Then, to her surprise, she smelled food cooking in the kitchen.
Ryan had told her that the family had fast food on Sundays, usually pizza. Trish either hadn’t remembered about this, or maybe it only happened when she was away. Either way, she was cooking for the family and that unsettled Cassie, because what had happened to Ryan preparing all the meals? It felt as if Trish was entrenching herself.
Cassie went back to her own room, feeling like a dog with its tail between its legs. She didn’t venture out again until she heard Trish calling out for everyone to come for supper.
The square kitchen table was made for four. Five was a squeeze. Trish had set a place for her next to Madison, but there wasn’t enough space and Cassie had to shift sideways so that her legs were on either side of the table leg. It was awkward and uncomfortable, and gave her the feeling that she truly was a fifth wheel in the home.
The children ate in silence, and Trish updated Ryan on her trip and asked after people Cassie knew nothing about. From the context she realized some of them lived in the village.
“The Richardsons are opening a stationery store in town,” Ryan said.
“Part of the post office? Or separate?”
“I believe it’s opposite. On the other side of the road.”
“I’m unconvinced about the viability of a stationery store in this small town,” Trish said. “If it was part of the post office, it would be different. But separate, I’m not sure.”
Cassie could contribute nothing toward this conversation. She ate her food, discovering that Trish was a substandard cook and the chicken pasta she had made was bland and under-seasoned. She wished she could be somewhere else. Sitting at this table made her remember all the other times she’d enjoyed meals here, and how during every dinner, she’d been looking forward to sharing wine with Ryan outside. That would be impossible now.
“There was a power outage yesterday morning,” Madison said.
“Really?” Trish asked.
“There was a scary
storm and then everything went dark.”
“That must have been frightening,” Trish said. “Are there flashlights in the bathroom and in your bedrooms? That’s something you could see to tomorrow,” she said, addressing Cassie for the first time.
“During storm season these outages are fairly frequent,” she continued. “If there are flashlights in everyone’s rooms, you won’t have to find your way to the bathroom in the dark.”
“I know my way around,” Madison protested. “Sometimes I test myself by walking to the bathroom with my eyes closed.”
“You must think of others. It’s a long walk from the guest bedroom to your bathroom.”
Madison frowned, puzzled.
“Cassie wasn’t sleeping—”
Just in time, Cassie realized what the young girl was going to say.
With a mouth full of food, she had no way of stopping the innocent statement that was going to land both her and Ryan in an ocean of trouble.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Cassie knocked her water over.
It was the only conversation-stopper she could think of.
She slammed the back of her hand into the glass, and it thumped down onto its side. Water sluiced all over Madison’s plate, which was almost untouched, and into Madison’s lap.
Madison uttered a dismayed shout.
“It’s cold! Yuck!”
Cassie hastily swallowed her food.
“Sorry, Maddie. That was clumsy of me,” she apologized.
Ryan jumped up and grabbed a dish towel from the hook above the sink.
Cassie’s heart was pounding from delayed shock at the bombshell Madison had come so close to dropping. She helped Madison mop up the splashes on her lap and dried the table while Ryan dished another helping of food for her.
“Do you want some more water?” Trish asked Cassie, coolly polite, once everything was back to normal.
“No, thanks. I’m fine,” Cassie said. She felt even more on edge than before, knowing that at any moment, innocent dinner table conversation could give the game away
She glanced at Madison anxiously, but she was not her talkative self, and had relapsed into silence again.
Once everyone had finished their food, Trish checked her watch.
“It’s already after seven, and we are meeting the Robinsons at half past. Do you need to get changed?” she asked Ryan.
Cassie couldn’t stop herself from gaping in astonishment at what was unfolding before her eyes.
“It’s only drinks at the Seafarer’s Arms. It’ll be fairly casual,” Ryan said.
“Well, we’d better get going.” Trish turned to Cassie. “You’ll ensure the children are put to bed by eight thirty? And could you tidy the kitchen?”
“Sure, I—sure. I’ll do that.”
Cassie had to bite back a stinging retort, realizing it would be completely out of place. After all, she had been hired to do this work. She just hadn’t thought she would be taking instructions from Ryan’s wife.
Ryan walked out of the kitchen, humming to himself, and a minute later, he and Trish were on their way out.
Cassie turned on the TV for the children and then headed back to the kitchen, agonizing over Ryan and Trish. She’d never been to the Seafarer’s Arms but guessed it was among the pubs and restaurants down by the harbor. From the sounds of it they were meeting a married couple.
Another married couple, Cassie corrected herself.
This seemed like a normal life being lived; that was the most worrying part of this whole inexplicable situation. When had this drinks arrangement been made? Why had it even been made if there was so much uncertainty surrounding their relationship?
She wished she could drive down to the pub and peer through the windows and see how Ryan and Trish were interacting, whether they seemed friendly, or even loving. Was Trish going to try and use this outing to make Ryan change his mind and rethink the divorce?
Cassie stopped herself as she was putting the salt and pepper shakers into the dishwasher, realizing she was so distracted she was messing up horribly with the simple job of tidying.
Rechecking, she found a few idiotic errors. The cheese was in the cupboard and she’d folded a dirty dish towel and put it back with the clean ones. Quickly she corrected her mistakes, now frantic with worry that she would keep buckling under stress. Trish seemed to be a stickler for correctness and Cassie didn’t think she looked like the forgiving type. Even a small slip-up might land her in trouble.
She went back into the family room to find that Dylan had already gone to bed, and Madison was dozing on the sofa. She’d been doing a puzzle, but the tray had tipped sideways and some of the pieces had fallen onto the floor.
“Come on. It’s bedtime. You’ve had a busy day,” Cassie said, carefully righting the tray to salvage as much of Madison’s work as possible.
“What time is it?” Madison asked, confused.
Cassie glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece.
“It’s a quarter to nine.”
She’d run late without even realizing it.
On her hands and knees, Cassie picked up the puzzle pieces and peered under the couch to make sure none of the others had fallen out of sight.
She could see no puzzle pieces, but something else, pushed far under the low-slung couch, caught her eye.
Scrabbling her fingers along the carpet, Cassie grasped it and pulled it out, before staring at it in consternation.
It was the manila envelope that the unpleasant, dark-haired man had delivered a few days ago. She recognized the handwritten address on the front. Ryan had opened it, but the papers were still inside. So this was surely nothing to do with any divorce.
Suspicion crystallized inside her as she wondered why Ryan had hidden it away after opening it.
Now she had found it, and Cassie resolved that as soon as she was alone in her room, she was going to look inside.
She put the envelope in her jacket pocket and picked up Madison’s tray.
Madison followed Cassie to her bedroom in sullen silence.
Cassie had no idea why she was so moody, but she was starting to suspect it had nothing to do with the so-called divorce. On the spur of the moment, she decided to ask Madison some careful questions. She was desperate to find out what she knew.
“Madison,” she asked softly, “do you know if your mum and dad have been planning to live in different places? Did they talk to you about it at all?”
Madison frowned at her.
“How do you mean?” she asked.
“If your mum was moving out?”
She didn’t want to put ideas into Madison’s head, and felt as if she was walking a tightrope. Madison could so easily pass this information on to Trish. Cassie clenched her hands tightly, realizing her palms felt damp.
“No. She hasn’t moved out. She spends a lot of time at work though.”
“You haven’t felt sad about that?”
Madison looked confused.
“No,” she said.
Rage flared inside Cassie and she had to struggle not to show Madison, through words or gestures, how furious she was.
This was not what Ryan had told her, not at all. He’d said the children knew about the divorce, and it had affected them so badly they weren’t willing to speak about it.
Not true. In fact, they knew nothing about it and that was why they had said nothing about it. All the nuances she thought she’d picked up in their behavior had simply been coincidence. Even Dylan’s shoplifting had nothing to do with the mention of the children’s mother.
God, what a fool she’d been. If she had asked them about this at the start, she could have gotten to the truth of the situation and not become embroiled the way she had. She hadn’t asked them because Ryan had told her how traumatized they were.
He’d covered all his bases like a seasoned liar, and Cassie was starting to fear that was what he was.
“I’m very tired, Cassie,” Madison said.
Cassie clim
bed hastily off her bed.
“Sleep well. I hope you will feel happy in the morning,” she said.
She switched Madison’s light off and closed her door.
Rage was still simmering inside her as she sat on her bed and took the manila envelope out of her pocket. She pulled out the papers, noticing that her hands were shaking, and then stared at them, appalled.
This was no divorce document. It was a final demand for payment from a loan agency.
Cassie read it carefully. It was for a substantial amount, and Ryan was months overdue with it. From the printed statement, it looked as if he’d defaulted on every single repayment. Either he hadn’t had money, or he’d ignored the payment requests completely.
Now she realized why the delivery man had been so unpleasant to her—and she was the one who’d bear the brunt of his attentions if Ryan continued to default, and he came back again.
“He told me it was divorce papers. This has nothing to do with any divorce,” she said aloud. “Is there even a divorce? I doubt there is!”
Anger was making her reckless. She was entitled to know the truth. If it wasn’t being told to her, there were ways she could find it out.
Cassie left her room and walked quietly to the master bedroom, where she eased open the door.
Ryan had said that Trish was here to sign divorce papers. Those papers hadn’t been in the manila envelope, so if Ryan was telling the truth, they must be elsewhere.
The logical place was in the wooden filing cabinet in the corner—it contained two large drawers, one neatly labeled “Work,” and the other “Children/Personal.”
If divorce papers needed signing, they must be filed away for safekeeping. If they were there, Cassie was determined to find them.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
Cassie felt sick with tension as she stepped into the tidy master bedroom. She felt so angry, so violated and outraged by the lies she’d been told, that she was tempted to upend the files and rip through them. She warned herself that would only cause repercussions. She must keep control, and be methodical.
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