Free Be Careful What You Hear by Paul Pilkington Page A

– from a doctor, preferably.’
    ‘Did she?’
    ‘Not that I
know of.’
    I thought back
to how well she had looked in Allemandi’s , just yesterday.
It seemed crazy to think that the measured, cheerful exterior was
masking something altogether more fraught and wounded.
    ‘There’s
something else,’ he said.
    ‘What?’
    ‘I think in the
past two weeks, Sophie has been doing things.’
    ‘Doing things.
What do you mean?’
    ‘Silent calling
me on my mobile. Sending strange things to the dental
practice…’
    ‘Like what?’ I
interrupted.
    ‘Two days ago I
received a letter. There were instructions that only I should open
it, so Elizabeth passed it on to me unopened. Inside was an image
of a heart, which someone had doctored to show blood flowing out of
it. On the back someone had written, “Broken hearted. Only just
started.”
    I
shuddered.
    ‘And then the
other night, the person Max saw in our back garden.’
    ‘You think that
could have been Sophie?’
    ‘Of course. I
nearly told you everything then, but it just wasn’t the right time.
I was more concerned that I kept you two safe.’
    ‘Which is why
you booked the holiday away? So we’d be safe?’
    ‘Yes. For the
weekend, I knew there would be a lot of miles between us. I know
it’s not rational, that we have to go back to London on Monday, but
I guess I just felt the need to do something.’
    Then I thought
of something. ‘The flat tyres. You think that was Sophie, too?’
    ‘I assume so.
It might just be a coincidence, of course, but I doubt it.’
    And then I had
another thought. ‘She knows where we are.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘I gave her the
details of where we are staying. I texted her when we were at the
services.’
    He looked back
at me in horror.
    Bang!
Bang!
    I tensed. ‘Was
that someone at the door?’
    ‘Just the
wind,’ he said.
    But he didn’t
look at all convinced.

 
     
    10

     
     
    When we
finally did go to bed, at a quarter to one in the morning, James
offered to sleep on the sofa, and I let him. I still didn’t know
how I felt about his admission of infidelity, but I didn’t want him
so close to me that night – even though the storm, and the
lingering thoughts of Elsa Cartwright and Sophie, set me on edge.
You don’t hear your husband tell you he’s had an affair and then
promptly go back to bed with him, as if nothing has happened.
    I lay there in
the strange bed, in the isolated cottage by the sea, listening to
the wind and rain battering us. The bed was comfortable, but my
mind was running at full speed, trying desperately to process the
day’s events. To my surprise, when I finally did fall asleep, I was
out cold. And the next time I opened my eyes, it was morning, and
there was sunlight streaming through the curtains. I checked my
watch on the bedside table – half past eight.
    I wanted to
check on Grace first. It wasn’t unknown for her to sleep through
the night – we’d been extremely lucky in that respect. But when I
hadn’t heard from her for all those hours, it always sparked
anxiety in me.
    ‘Hello,
poppet,’ I whispered, standing over the cot. She was still asleep.
The unfamiliar surroundings and even the storm obviously hadn’t
disturbed her the way it had her mother.
    ‘Morning,
George,’ James said from behind me.
    I didn’t turn
around. I just kept my eyes on Grace. ‘Morning.’
    ‘Did you sleep
okay?’
    ‘Yes,
surprisingly. How about you?’ I felt that I needed to ask.
    ‘Woke up a few
times. The sofa is not the most comfortable. But I deserve it.’
    ‘I didn’t do it
to punish you,’ I said, turning to face him.
    ‘I know. I
know. Do you fancy breakfast?’
    I nodded and we
settled down to eat.
    ‘What would you
like to do?’ James asked, as we tucked into a bowl of granola
each.
    ‘What do you
mean?’
    ‘Do you want to
pack up and leave this morning? Go home?’
    ‘I don’t know.’
I honestly hadn’t thought about it, even though now the question
had been asked it