‘What are you girls up to on this lazy Sunday?’ Mum nurses her coffee in both hands. Without make-up on, the brown patches of sun-damaged skin make her look so much older. Her eyes are small and red showing how tired she is. I’ve never known her go to bed early. She’s suffered with insomnia ever since she had me. I think it’s why she likes to have men round as company.
‘Um, not sure yet.’ I wink at Amy. We aren’t about to tell her anything of our plans or she’d be sure to try and stop them. Amy’s job this morning is to check to see if the baby monitor has been switched on. My job is to collect together all the information to finish the fake Facebook page in Cole’s ‘Truman Capote’ name then, when the time is right, send friend requests to everyone on his list saying that his existing account has been hacked and to please join this new one and to ignore any warnings about it, because they were messages from the hackers. We’re considering doing the same for the mouse. She’s the one more likely to post news about the baby and what’s going on in their lives, but at this point I need to know what he’s thinking, what he’s planning, if anything. I can keep an eye on her at work and on Instagram.
They are due home later this afternoon, so we rock up early and wait.
It had been silent when we left last night. I made sure I put all the photo albums back exactly as I’d found them. Amy and I had a laugh photographing all the best ones. His whole childhood was catalogued. There was even a snap of him at his first job, standing by the sign outside, pulling a silly grin and pointing to the name of a private grammar school. I remembered him telling me he was there for five years, but felt it had been time to move because his class were all so ridiculously talented he felt he could do more good at a comprehensive, find a talented pupil from a disadvantaged background. Someone just like me.
The first time I’d ever read a poem out was in his class. He persuaded me to do it. He stood up and clapped, encouraging the whole class to join in. I’d been so embarrassed but elated that he considered my work worthy of a standing ovation. No one had ever told me I was good at anything before, except Mum. He was only there for a year, covering maternity leave, but it felt like he’d plugged the gap in my life of not having a dad around to encourage and praise his little girl.
One day he’d asked me to stay behind for extra English lessons. He said he could help me reach the highest GCSE level, that he only ever cherry picked the best pupils for further tuition, the ones who showed real promise. He told me I was talented, special, not just brains but the whole package. It became a regular thing after school. He knew so much about books and writing and what sort of answers were expected in the exam, what I could work on to give me extra points, I soaked it all up.
‘I’m thinking of organizing an extra-curricular trip to the theatre to see a production of An Inspector Calls,’ he’d said one day in our session after school. ‘Would you be interested in going? Do you think anyone else will be? It’s on at a local theatre, we could go to a Friday matinee. I can get a good discount on a student group booking.’ I’d stared at him speechless. It was breathtaking how there seemed to be so many books, plays and films we shared an interest in. I’d bought a copy of the play online and read it in less than a day. Mr Adams had waited for my answer, watching me, amused but not in a mocking way. The smile in his eyes, the way he gazed at me left me dizzy with desire for him.
‘But I won’t bother if my star pupil isn’t interested, because chances are no one else in the class will be either.’ He’d sat on the desk next to me, within touching distance.
‘I am, I am,’ I’d said earnestly, ‘I don’t know about everyone else, though.’
‘Maybe you can help me persuade the rest of the class to join us?’
‘I’ll do my best.’ I remembered glowing, self-satisfied at his praise and at him trusting me. Thinking I could galvanize the whole class to want to see it.
‘Do you know, it’s rare and wonderful to find such a gifted student as you.’ He’d let his eyes rest on me for even longer than usual, as though he was really seeing me properly for the first time – as a young woman not just as his student. He was taking all of me in – my glossy blonde hair, peachy clear skin, long tanned legs, pert breasts. I was aware of how fortunate I was on the looks front. I could eat and drink whatever I wanted, and it didn’t affect my waistline or my skin. But no one had known that all of it was hiding something ugly deep inside me – a cavernous hole in my heart, empty of love from not having a daddy. Instead, it was filled with resentment and jealousy. I knew all about consequences. I was living with whatever selfish or bad choices my mum and dad had made.
I’d reached for the next photo album and my stomach pinched as soon as I’d opened it. Cole and Gemma in silver lettering on the translucent first page, their wedding date underneath. Photo after photo of their wedding day on a beach somewhere exotic, four years ago. I flicked through windswept photos of her in a floaty cream dress, bare feet in the sand. Nothing original. Cole looking gorgeous in his white Armani jeans and half-open white linen shirt, hair streaked blond. She looked so young, so happy. I bet she couldn’t believe her luck, bagging someone like Cole. I’d thumped my fist down on their faces. It should have been me.
We wait almost half an hour in our hiding place across the road before they finally arrive. The mouse is still enormous, so at least they hadn’t sneaked off for a caesarean. Cole helps Gemma out of the car and, arm round her waist, walks her to the front door. On the step he says something to her and she stops and looks at him. He kisses her lips. Is this for real or is he putting on a show for me?
He carries the suitcase in just as the mother of the big family next door comes out in her slippers, arms crossed. I can tell he wants to get away, but she chats to them for a good ten minutes, pointing up to the window I’d been looking out of last night. Maybe she is only telling them that they’d left the curtains open. If she thought I was a burglar, she’d have called the police.
The urge to run over the road and throw my arms around Cole is almost too much. I want to let him know he doesn’t have to be saddled with her and a baby. He can have a better life with me, like it was meant to be.
Chapter Fifty-Five
5 August 2018
Scarlett
The warm weather usually brings people out, loosens them up. Most want to enjoy dinner on the terrace, imagining they’re on holiday in Italy or Greece. Georgio says Sundays are sometimes as busy as Saturdays but tonight it’s barely half full.
‘Didn’t expect to see you tonight,’ I say when Gemma comes in that evening. ‘Did you have a good time?’
‘It was lovely, thank you. Thought I’d pop in to see how you’re all getting on.’ I hope she doesn’t feel the need to go into details.
‘Everything’s fine.’ I shoot a look across at Bonnie who nods too.
Gemma heads straight out the back.
She’s more subdued than I expected, like she’s trying to give it a positive spin to convince herself. Probably dog tired.
‘And thanks for feeding Missy, especially at such short notice,’ She says when she comes back out.
‘That’s all right, she’s really sweet. I’ve got your key in my bag, by the way. Do you want me to go and get it now?’ I point to the cloakroom with my thumb.
‘Later will be fine. No rush.’
‘Did you know that another cat sneaks into your house? A female, I think, with a grey mark on its head.’ I check the receipts on the side and start making the first order of coffees.
‘I know, I can’t get rid of her. She’s often sniffing around Missy. I don’t know what to do. I can’t lock the cat flap in case she thinks we’re locking her out.’
‘I’ve no idea what to suggest. You look exhausted, by the way, if you don’t mind me saying.’
She glances at me in surprise. ‘I am actually. I’m not staying long. I just had to… I thought I’d check in, make sure everything was running okay. I knew we were going to be fairly busy tonight.’
‘We’ll manage if you want to get home? Up to you, of course, you’re the boss.’ I add a tiny wrapped biscotti to each saucer and lift the coffees and a pot of demerara sugar onto a tray.
She lets out a deep sigh. ‘Nick can be… he likes to make all the decisions at home, but here I get to make them.’
I’m so close to asking her if they’re splitting up but then I think of him wanting me to get an abortion. If he was intending to leave her, he wouldn’t be so against my pregnancy.
‘Did you know when you met him that this was the man you’d marry?’ I hand the tray of coffees to Bonnie and start making the next order. The mouse hands me four clean cups. It’s not like her to linger for a chat, but I get the feeling she needs to talk and I’m the perfect candidate to listen to her marriage woes.
‘Does anyone ever know that, really? Soon after Nick and I got together, he whisked me off to Las Vegas. A couple of days later he took me to a chapel in a white limo, got down on one knee and proposed. He’d organized the wedding without telling me. I couldn’t believe he’d sprung it on me. It was lovely and everything, but I couldn’t exactly turn him down.’
‘So you got married there?’ But their wedding photos were on a beach.
‘We did. I was very young. I hardly knew him really.’
‘But you were madly in love with him, weren’t you?’
‘Maybe more flattered with his attention to start with, infatuated. But yes, he’s easy to fall in love with. He’s so charming.’
I realize I’m staring at her and I make myself look away. Without thinking I touch the hot steam nozzle with my fingertips. A jet of pain blasts through my skin.
‘Sugar, sugar!’ I try not to swear.
‘Are you okay? Put your hand under cold water, I’ll finish these.’
‘I’ll be fine.’ I shake my hand.
‘No, I insist.’ She turns the cold tap on and holds my wrist, so my fingers are being drenched in icy water. I stand there while she makes three cappuccinos and two mochas. She carries on talking, almost to herself. ‘I felt such an idiot for not guessing. He’d picked out a cream shift dress for me and matching heels and a hairdresser came to our room and styled my hair. He’d hired a tuxedo and looked every bit like James Bond. A bouquet of white roses was waiting for me at the chapel.’
‘It sounds absolutely amazing.’ I frown, bewildered. What about the wedding photos I found in their house? ‘I’ve always dreamed of getting married on a beach one day,’ I lie, ‘but now I’m thinking Vegas is a much better option.’
‘Funnily enough we did that too. After a few days honeymooning in Vegas, we flew to the Maldives. He said he wanted beautiful photos, so we dressed up and had a professional photographer take a whole shoot of us in a casual set of wedding clothes.’
‘Wow. He really splashed out on you then.’
‘He did. I know I’m very lucky.’ She doesn’t sound it, though. She glances at her rock of a ring, probably only just realizing she’s forgotten to take it off.
‘Trouble is I didn’t have a chance to tell my parents or any of my friends, let alone invite any of them. I feel really sad about that. It’s not how I imagined my wedding day to be.’ She gazes down at her bump and touches it lightly. ‘I’m sorry, I sound so ungrateful, don’t I?’ She pulls up a tray and lifts the coffees onto it.
‘No, it’s understandable. Almost every girl I know has a fantasy about their dream wedding. Were your parents okay with it once they’d got over the shock?’
She slowly shakes her head. ‘They’ve not talked to me since.’ Bonnie takes the tray from her. ‘Anyway, sorry to dump all that on you. How are your fingers? A bit numb?’
‘They’re much better, thanks.’ I switch the tap off and dry my hand.
‘Thank you for listening to me.’
‘That’s all right. You can talk to me any time.’
‘I’ve not told anyone half this stuff before. Nick doesn’t like me sharing our personal lives, but sometimes it’s a lot to carry around on my own.’
‘They always say it’s best to share.’
‘A few months ago, I suspected Nick was seeing someone but of course he denied it.’
I blink once and freeze, waiting for her to scream blue murder at me, but she carries on talking.
‘I was seriously considering leaving him. But then I found out I was pregnant. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t tell him straight away but when I did he was overjoyed, insisted we work on our marriage.’
‘So he wasn’t seeing anyone and you didn’t split up?’
‘If he was, he must have ended it. He was at home more, being nicer. So no, we didn’t separate.’ She frowns at me probably wondering why I asked, but I have to know.
‘That’s good then.’
‘He didn’t see his dad after his parents divorced, so he’s adamant we have to stick together because he won’t let that happen to his child.’
‘I can understand that.’ I clench my teeth. I was so sure she’d got pregnant to entrap him. But despite him staying with her and wanting their baby, she’s not happy with him. Why did he tell me they’d split up and were getting divorced? Why pretend he wanted to be with me? What is clear is that if Gemma is telling the truth, Cole has been lying to me from day one.
Chapter Fifty-Six
8 August 2018
Scarlett
I wave goodbye to Amy at 10 a.m. on the ground floor and take the lift up to the maternity ward. I bought one of those massive helium balloons from the shop by the entrance to hold in front of my face. My other hand is tightly balled up in my dress pocket. The maternity door has a security button, so I press it, not sure what will happen. A nurse comes and opens the door.
‘Visiting Gemma Adams.’ I wear my best smile.
‘And you are?’ The nurse’s eyebrows are overplucked and too far apart.
‘Her sister.’
‘Up the top there, on the right.’
‘Thanks.’
I walk silently along the corridor, glancing to one side then the other. Babies are being held up and admired by families while mothers lie in beds like war victims. Part of me wants to turn back, run away, but this bloody balloon keeps me moving forward as though it’s pulling me along. I have to see the little shrimp with my own eyes.
The last bay on the right is quiet, the curtains drawn round each bed. I search for the name Adams on the board at the entrance. It’s by the window. The curtain is half pulled to one side, but there’s no one there. The bed is empty, the sheets crumpled and turned back. A clear box stands alongside it, next to the window. I peer in at the tightly wrapped bundle. It looks too big to be a newborn. When I went into work last night, Georgio told everyone the news.
The baby’s golden thatch stands up on his head like a troll, eyes squeezed shut, fast asleep. He’s like a doll with painted rosy cheeks and feathery eyelashes. Especially as there is no movement whatsoever. Is he even breathing? I lean in closer to his face and wonder if I should poke him. What if he’s died and they don’t know it yet. I should go in case they blame me. But then I detect a movement at the edge of the blanket, the tiniest flutter of fibres from the baby’s breath.
‘Hey, is that you, Rosie?’ Gemma’s voice is too loud as she hobbles towards me. I wince at her using my second name out loud.
‘I wasn’t expecting to see you.’ She’s wearing a white nightdress, the sort of thing I imagine they wore in Victorian asylums. ‘Everything okay at work?’ Her hair is unruly, neither completely up nor down and one of her eyes has a burst blood vessel I can’t bear to look at.
‘All fine. Just wanted to see how you both were.’
‘Oh, well. That’s really kind of you. And is this for me?’
‘I hope you like it.’ I pass her the balloon. It seems a stupid present now. Cole’s bound to ask who it’s from.
‘He’s a big baby, isn’t he?’ I try my hardest to appear interested. I imagine Cole holding his son for the first time. Any thought of me era
sed from his mind.
‘He is. Almost nine pounds.’
‘What’s his name?’
‘We’ve called him Thomas.’
‘That’s nice. He was so still when I came in I was scared. I thought for a second he wasn’t breathing.’ Can’t she tell that the wicked fairy has arrived to cast her spell? ‘Anyway, I forgot to give you this.’ I hand her the front-door key. It’s been in my pocket. I could have let myself into their house any time.
‘Ah thank you. That’s good of you. Just put it on there.’
Mum spent weeks in hospital with me after I was born. She’s never said why exactly. I guess the birth wasn’t as straightforward as this one.
I wonder how long I’ve got before Cole comes back. When Amy and I arrived, I parked near his car and watched him return to it and drive away before I got out and came in. I don’t think he spotted it amongst all the others. We ducked right down as he walked past.
‘Anyway, I can’t stop, I just wanted to make sure everything was okay.’ I have one eye on the door. Cole could stroll back in any minute.
‘Thank you, it’s really kind of you.’
‘I was so excited to hear the news.’ I hope my sarcastic edge is subtle enough not to give me away. ‘Are babies always so quiet?’
She turns to the cot. ‘Not when he’s hungry. Nothing wrong with his lungs, that’s for sure. He kicks his little legs like mad when he cries.’
‘I’d better leave you to it then.’ I grin.
‘Thanks for coming.’ She eyes me up one last time and climbs into bed, immediately shutting her eyes. I head towards the door and hear the lift ping. I glance at a text from Amy warning me that Cole is back, only to see him coming towards me on the other side of the double doors holding a takeaway bag. I step into a side room and shut the door. I’m in a tiny kitchen area, holding my breath, hoping he didn’t spot me. My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pray he can’t hear it as he walks past. It’s from him!
Come to the house. I’ll be there this evening to collect a few things, check on the cat etc.
The Face At the Window Page 19