Chapter 9
I’m in the kitchen, cooking a dinner I’m not sure we’ll finish eating when Michael finally gets home. We may not even start, I don’t know. I’m just trying to keep up some kind of routine.
I glance up at the clock as I hear him out in the hall, and I feel that familiar ache in the pit of my stomach, that nervous anticipation, that worry – is tonight the night something changes?
A loud crash from the garden startles me.
‘Ellie?’
Michael runs into the kitchen, crouches down to pick the wooden spoon I’ve dropped in shock up off the floor.
‘Are you okay?’
‘I … I heard something, out there. Out in the garden. And the security light … the light’s been triggered.’
He goes over to the back door and I close my eyes as I wait for him. I’m so on edge these days. Lack of sleep and working too hard, I guess it’s all building up. It’s coming to a head. I love my husband but we never were tied to each other. But now – now I dread being alone. I’d rather have Michael here, rather endure the silences and that painful gap that’s growing wider between us as each day goes by; I’d rather have that than be alone. Here. In this house.
‘It was just a fox.’
I look up as Michael comes back inside; watch him as he locks the door, I watch him closely. Has he flicked both locks?
‘They knocked a couple of pots over, that’s all.’
‘Okay.’
He comes a little closer and I crave his warmth, his attention.
‘Everything’s fine, Ellie. All right? It was just a fox.’
He steps back and the gulf between us widens again.
‘I’m going to grab a quick shower before dinner.’
I nod and return to the stove.
The doorbell ringing makes me jump again and I take a second to pull myself together before I go out into the hall, checking the small black and white security monitor by the door first to see who’s outside. It’s only Liam.
‘Hey …’ He frowns. ‘Are you okay?’
I fold my arms and throw him a small smile. ‘I’m fine. Just tired, that’s all. When did you get back from Berlin?’
‘Landed about an hour ago. I’m on my way home from the airport, but I found this in my car, Michael must’ve left it there. And as I have to pass your place on the way to mine, I thought I might as well drop it off.’
I take the jacket Liam holds out, his fingers accidently brushing mine as I gather it up, laying it over the crook of my arm.
‘Thanks. Do you want to stay for dinner? I’ve got a casserole on the stove. There’s plenty.’
He shakes his head and steps back from the door. ‘I’d love to, but I’ve got a meeting first thing, not to mention copious notes to write up for a conference I’m attending next week, so …’ He shrugs and gives me an apologetic smile, ‘I’ll pick up a take-away on the way home. Are you sure you’re okay?’
I nod and try to muster up a more convincing smile. ‘Yes. Michael’s just grabbing a shower, then we’re going to have dinner, maybe grab an early night.’
Liam drops his gaze, scuffing the toe of his boot against the step, his hands in his pockets. He doesn’t say anything and even when he raises his gaze he just smiles at me again as he starts to walk backwards towards his car. ‘I’ll see you later, huh?’
‘Yeah. Later.’
I close the door before his car’s left our driveway, flicking the locks and double-checking them before I hang up Michael’s jacket. And I’m about to go back into the kitchen. I should check on that casserole, but I don’t. I stop and I glance quickly up the stairs. I can hear Michael moving around up there. I can hear his voice. He’s talking to someone.
Taking a deep breath, I turn back to look at the jacket Liam’s just returned. It really has come to this.
I slide a hand into one of the pockets and feel around inside but there’s nothing in there. So I try another pocket. Still nothing. But I’m sure this jacket has an inside pocket and I reach around to find it. And the second I put my hand in there I feel it. A slip of paper. A receipt, maybe? I pull it out and look at it. It is a receipt, for lunch at a Spanish restaurant in the city. The same restaurant we used to love going to, but we haven’t been there for a long time now. We haven’t been there, but he obviously has, and I check the date – it was a few days ago, his lunchtime visit. Just a few days ago. I scan the receipt more closely. Definitely a meal for two. He wasn’t alone.
Shoving the receipt back into his pocket I glance up the stairs again. His voice is a little more muffled now. It’s barely audible. He must’ve gone into his office. It isn’t Liam he’s talking to … so who is it?
Climbing the stairs, carefully, quietly, I try to avoid those steps that I know have creaking floorboards. He’s still just that little bit too far away for me to make out what he’s saying.
I make my way along the first-floor landing, again moving slowly so as not to make a sound, but I stop when I reach the bottom of the stairs that lead up to the top floor. His voice is a little louder now, but he’s definitely inside his office and the door is closed, so whatever he’s saying – whoever he’s talking to, I still can’t make anything out. And then it goes quiet, and I hear him moving about again, so I turn to go, but he’s already coming down the stairs. I dart into our bedroom, pretend to look for something I don’t need.
‘Ellie?’
I turn around and he’s standing there, in the doorway.
‘I needed a change of shirt. I splashed something on this one.’
He comes over to me, takes the shirt I don’t need from my hand and tosses it onto the bed. ‘What’s going on?’
‘I need to change my …’
‘Why were you really at the university today?’
I laugh quietly, fold my arms across my chest and step back from him, shaking my head. ‘You think I had some ulterior motive for dropping by to leave you lunch?’
‘I don’t know what to think, Ellie. I don’t. I mean, there are times when you’re fine, you’re good; times when everything is normal …’
‘You think everything is normal, Michael?’
He takes a step towards me, reaches out to take my hand and I let him, his fingers curling around mine. It’s a feeling I’m so unfamiliar with now, him touching me, so when it happens, even under these kind of circumstances, I take it. Because I just want to feel him touch me again.
I drop my gaze and look at his hand holding mine.
‘Please, Ellie, don’t do this.’
‘Who were you talking to? Just now?’
He lets go of me and narrows his eyes, pushing a hand back through his hair. ‘Jesus, what the hell is wrong with you? You turn up at the university, out of the blue, you demand to know who I’m talking to … whatever the hell you think is going on it’s all in your head, okay?’ He jabs the side of his temple hard as he says that, his eyes darkening as he stares at me. Yeah, he’s angry. So am I. I’ve been angry for a long time. I have every right to be. ‘And that call was to Neil Haywood, a colleague of mine from Edinburgh. He’s visiting the university next week for a guest lecture. I just wanted to make sure he has all the details he needs before he gets here.’ He pulls his phone from his back pocket and holds it out to me. ‘Go on. Check my call history if you don’t believe me.’
I lean back against the wall and fold