She’s curled up on the bed, her pillow wet with tears, when she hears Matt’s key in the lock. Any other time, she’d feel a sliver of excitement that he was home, but tonight there’s a weight on her chest and a ball of anxiety lodged in her throat.
It would be easier to stay here in the dark and pretend she was asleep, but she’s never been one for the easy option. She wants to watch the husband, who she’s loved and trusted for the past ten years, as he explains himself, because seeing his face will tell her if he’s telling the truth.
She flicks on the reading light and pulls herself up onto the headboard.
‘Hey,’ he says as he walks into the room. He lowers the book that Kate’s just grabbed from the bedside table and leans in to give her a kiss on her forehead. ‘Jeez, it’s hot out there.’
She can feel a faint line of perspiration along the top of his lip and offers a tight smile. ‘How did it go?’ she asks, as casually as she can.
He turns his back on her to hang his jacket up in the wardrobe. ‘How did what go?’
She doesn’t even know what she’s asking herself. ‘The pub,’ she says.
‘Oh, you know . . .’
‘No, I don’t,’ she says.
He turns to look at her as he unfastens his tie. ‘I’m detecting a little jealousy,’ he says.
Kate can’t help but flinch at the irony of his statement.
‘Or is it regret?’ he asks, smiling.
‘Regret at what?’ she says sharply.
‘That you turned down my invitation to go for a drink on a lovely summer’s evening.’ He looks at her with raised eyebrows. ‘You should have come – you would have enjoyed it.’
She wouldn’t bet on it. ‘Who was there?’
He turns away from her again and goes into the en suite bathroom. ‘Oh, you know, just the usual lot.’
If Kate hadn’t seen her husband flirting with a woman in a pub, if she hadn’t known it was the woman who was causing the destruction of her family, then perhaps she wouldn’t have noticed the flippant, ‘Oh you know . . .’ A sure sign that he’s on the back foot.
‘Who? Ben, Jamie . . .?’ she asks.
‘Yeah,’ he calls out from the bathroom. ‘They came a bit later, along with a few of the others.’
‘So, what? You were a Norman No-mates until they arrived,’ she says, piling on the pressure.
These were not the jealous thoughts she was used to having. This was not the kind of marriage they had. Kate prided herself on being a laid-back wife, at one with her husband’s career, friends and social life, on the rare occasion it didn’t include her. Whilst her girlfriends bickered and bitched about their partners going out without them, berating them when they dared to return later than 10 p.m., she would smugly declare that she trusted Matt with every bone in her body.
Now, she can’t shake off the ominous feeling that her complacency might be about to turn around and bite her on the behind.
‘No, a couple of us were there,’ he says. ‘Including the new junior reporter. You should have come; you’d have liked her. She reminds me of you when you were first starting out.’
Kate’s head feels as if it’s about to explode. She doesn’t know whether she feels relieved or even more suspicious. Jess is the girl he employed?
‘How’s she getting on?’ Kate asks.
‘Really good,’ he says. ‘She’s got a good nose for a story.’
‘What was her name again?’ Even she can hear the forced nonchalance in her voice. She holds her breath, waiting for him to answer.
‘Jess,’ he says. And in that moment, she flips the resounding question of, What the hell is he playing at? to What the hell is she playing at? There’s nothing to suggest that he knows anything more than he’s letting on, but it’s too much of a coincidence to think that Jess just happened to get a job with Matt.
‘You okay?’ he asks, as he comes back in and lies on top of the bed naked. ‘You look a bit pale.’
She nods, consumed by the unsettling feeling that Jess is up to something. There’s no doubt in Kate’s mind that she knows what she’s doing – the problem is, what is it?
Matt reaches across and pulls her into him, but although nothing’s changed between them, she can’t help but feel that everything’s different. If she doesn’t recoil from him physically, she ashamedly shirks from him emotionally, knowing it’s not his fault, but blaming him all the same.
‘You’d tell me if something was wrong, wouldn’t you?’ he asks, as if able to sense it.
‘Of course,’ she says, whilst wondering where she’d even begin.
As soon as she hears Matt’s breathing change, she slides herself out from underneath his arm, looking back to check he’s asleep. She pads quietly to his side of the bed and carefully unplugs his phone. Their pin codes for everything have always been the date of their wedding anniversary, and although they’ve often joked that they’re a criminal’s dream, right now she’s thankful that he hasn’t changed it.
There’s just enough light filtering in from outside for Kate to make her way into the living room, avoiding the brutal corners of the coffee table, to sit on the sofa. She opens up Matt’s emails and runs her eyes down the list, waiting for something or someone to jump out. She tells herself she doesn’t know what she’s looking for, except she does. As her eyes dart over anonymous names and meaningless subject headings, she can no longer tell
