‘Do you love me?’ Chrissie asked even though Adam had used those exact words just a few minutes previously.
‘Of course.’ There was no hesitation, no curiosity about why she’d ask, just a simple statement of fact.
‘I’m going to leave Cam.’ The words, once said aloud, sounded so right, so straightforward. She could do it; people left their spouses all the time. ‘Tom’s old enough to choose and I think he’d choose me. I can’t live like that anymore – not now.’
Adam reached across the table and took her hand. He looked so concerned, and so happy that she’d made this decision. ‘Whatever you decide is fine with me. I can help you to move in with me; I can help with Tom, I can do whatever you need, just ask.’
Chrissie pulled her hand away and Adam’s smile faded. ‘You’re not going to come and live with me, are you?’
She shook her head. ‘Not at first. I need to find out who I am without Cam. I love you, Adam, I really do but I’m worried what Cam will do if he finds out about us. I don’t want to be one of those women that jumps from one man’s bed to another.’
‘I thought you just did.’
Chrissie shook her head. ‘I want to be with you, honestly. You just need to be patient and let me do this my way. I don’t even have a job – how am I supposed to support myself and Tom?’
Adam opened his mouth to say something, his eyes suddenly alight again but Chrissie stopped him.
‘I won’t– I can’t accept anything from you. It’s important that I do this on my own.’
‘What if you change your mind? Or if I wait and you decide you don’t want to be with me?’
This time she reached for him. ‘That’s not going to happen. I love you. I just need to do the right thing for Tom. And for Cam.’
Adam nodded and smiled sadly as Chrissie looked at her watch. ‘Shit! I’m going to be late.’
‘Late?’
‘I told Cam I was meeting Laura and then heading home. I can’t risk him ringing the house to check – I need to get back.’ She smiled. ‘But you’re such a lovely distraction.’
Adam stood up and she could see that he was unhappy. ‘You shouldn’t have to do this. Rush around just so he can check that you’re where he expects you to be. How can you live like that?’
Chrissie grabbed her bag and shrugged on her jacket. ‘I can’t. Not for much longer. I can’t afford to have him getting suspicious now I’ve decided to leave. It’d only make things worse.’ She stepped around the small table, leaving a twenty-pound note to cover the cost of their lunch and drew Adam into a hug. ‘Soon, my love. Soon.’
20
Natalie listened again to the recorded message.
‘You’re through to Fellbeck Academy. If you want to report your child as absent for the day, please press one. For the latest…’
She ended the call and frowned again at the large glass entrance door that showed nothing but a reflection of the car park and the sky. What the hell was going on in there?
The main gate to the school was locked, as was the smaller pedestrian gate beside it which suggested that nobody else was likely to be leaving the site and somebody on the front desk could control who came in. But there wasn’t anybody on the front desk. Had the whole school been evacuated?
Val said that her son had told her they’d been evacuated to the theatre. It was big enough to hold all the students and staff from Fellbeck – Natalie had covered enough events there to know the capacity of the building – so it made it a logical choice for a place to send everybody. That’s where she needed to be if she was going to get any answers.
The theatre was a relatively new addition to the town. Opened in 2009, it had replaced a disused 1950s cinema complex that had seen a dramatic fall in customers since the opening of the multiplex in Workington. Built from local slate and standing three storeys high, the theatre blended effectively with the landscape and the top-floor café commanded impressive views of the surrounding fells. Natalie had attended a few productions since it had opened and had been impressed by the range and professionalism of the theatre’s offering.
The car park was quiet so Natalie chose a spot quite close to the impressive glass-and-steel atrium and, as she approached the doors, she saw that the large reception area was empty. It looked like the students had already been seated in the main auditorium of the theatre.
‘Yes?’ The man on the main desk gave her a thin smile that almost disappeared beneath his bushy dark moustache. ‘Can I help you?’ His posture and narrowed eyes suggested that he was following his script, but he had no intention of being helpful. He was tense and watchful.
‘I’m looking for whoever’s in charge of the students,’ Natalie said, brightly. ‘Is it Mr Cleaver or his deputy?’
The eyes got even narrower and the man looked her up and down with barely disguised disdain. ‘I’m the general manager of the theatre, Paul Scott. And you are?’
‘Natalie Beckett.’ Nat dug in her pocket and pulled out a battered business card that stated her position as reporter even though she hadn’t been out on an assignment in months.
‘A journalist? What do you want?’ he asked, handing the card back to her between the tips of his index finger and thumb.
