Simon reaches for Lauren’s phone on the bedside table and attempts to bring it to life with her passcode. She flinches as Try Again lights up the screen, knowing that he’s going to be more suspicious of her changing it than anything he might find. She’d taken great care to delete any messages between her and Justin.
Try Again.
Try Again.
She feels sick as he turns to look at her. ‘What the fuck’s going on?’
She sits up and holds her hand out, hoping he doesn’t notice it shaking. ‘I changed it,’ she says.
‘Why would you need to do that?’
‘Because Noah knew my pin,’ she says, as light-heartedly as she can. ‘He was playing games on it whenever I turned my back.’ She wants to say, It’s none of your damn business. It’s my phone and you’ve got no right to look at it, but she knows there’s nothing to gain by riling him when he’s in this mood.
‘So what’s the new code?’ he asks, still holding on to it.
‘Give it here and I’ll do it.’
His eyes narrow. ‘How about you tell me what it is, and I’ll do it.’
‘Fine,’ she says. ‘1921.’
His face flashes with satisfaction as the phone lights up, before clouding over again. ‘You’ve got eight missed calls from Kate and five from me.’
Shit, that’s something she hadn’t cleaned up. ‘Really? I had no idea.’
‘What time did you get back from your mum’s?’
‘Erm, I don’t know,’ she says. ‘Around eight, but then Kate caught up with me here, so it’s all good.’
He’s still looking intently at the phone, making Lauren’s nerves jangle. ‘What was so urgent?’ he asks without looking up.
‘Eh?’
He turns to face her. ‘What did Kate need to talk to you about so urgently?’
She slides back down the bed. ‘Oh, it was just something about Jess,’ she says, faking a yawn. ‘She’s got a bee in her bonnet – you know Kate.’
‘So what time did Kate come here then?’
His questioning makes her feel as if she’s on the stand, in front of a judge and jury. She needs to tread carefully because like the best of lawyers, Simon’s good at catching her out.
‘I can’t remember,’ she says. ‘Probably about nine-ish.’
Simon’s brow furrows. ‘That’s odd, because she left that message on my phone at nine thirty.’
An overwhelming heat engulfs Lauren’s body, instantaneously making every pore prickle with sweat.
‘And she last tried you at ten,’ Simon goes on. ‘So that doesn’t add up, does it?’
‘I’m tired,’ says Lauren, bringing the duvet up over her head. ‘Can we talk about the semantics in the morning?’
‘It is morning,’ says Simon, pulling the cover off her. ‘And I want to know where you were.’
‘I already told you, I was at Mum’s.’
‘Until ten o’clock?’ asks Simon.
‘I can’t remember the exact timings, but if that’s when Kate last called, then yes.’
‘So you took the kids with you?’ asks Simon.
He knows she would never keep the children up that late. ‘No,’ she says hesitantly. ‘I left them here . . . with Jess.’
Simon leaps up from the bed. ‘You left my kids with a fucking stranger?’
‘She’s not a stranger, she’s my sister.’
‘All to go to your mother’s?’ Simon’s jaw tightens as he shakes his head. ‘Nah, I’m not buying it.’
Lauren swallows hard as she backs up onto the headboard.
‘Do you know where I think you really went?’ he says. ‘I think you went and covered that shift.’
‘What?’ exclaims Lauren, wondering what on earth he’s talking about.
‘The shift that woman was going on about yesterday,’ he goes on. ‘Sheila, or whatever her name was.’
Lauren didn’t know it was possible to feel relief and an impending sense of dread at the same time. She weighs up which answer will get him off her back faster.
‘I . . . I didn’t want you to get mad,’ she says, seeing a way out. ‘It was only for a few hours and I thought we could do with the money.’
‘Why do you think I’m out all night? Providing for my family.’
‘Yes, I know,’ says Lauren, reaching out and holding on to his arm. ‘And I’m very grateful, but it doesn’t hurt to have a little bit extra, does it?’
He falls heavily back onto the bed. ‘I don’t want you having to work. Your place is here at home with the kids.’
She nods enthusiastically in agreement. ‘You’re right, and I’m sorry.’ She hadn’t realized she could be so manipulative.
‘I’m sorry I woke you,’ he says, suddenly conciliatory. ‘I was just worried.’
‘That’s okay,’ she says. ‘I may as well jump in the shower before Jude wakes up.’
She sees her phone on the bed, but there’s no good excuse to take it into the bathroom with her, so she leaves it where it is.
She showers as quickly as she can, sticking her head out the door to listen for any sounds from the children as soon as she’s finished. Even with Simon in the house, she’s always felt the children are her responsibility. She doesn’t know if that’s the innate instinct of a mother or if it’s the way Simon makes her feel.
There’s total silence, though, and she revels in the last few minutes of peace before her day becomes overrun with the physical demands of three children. However, she fears it may be the incessant noise of her thoughts that will be her greatest distraction today. If she could just stop thinking about the way Justin’s touch had set her skin alight; how his lips on hers had felt like the most natural thing in the world. Stop! It is done, but it must never be repeated. It was a mistake, and she now needs to focus on her family and husband, who is trying so hard to keep their boat afloat.
As soon as she banishes Justin from her mind, the next thought gets in line, desperate for her attention. She roughly blow-dries her hair, her hands working ever more feverishly as she thinks about the pact she made with her mother and father all those years ago. The three of them vowed never to talk of it again,
