Two

TWO

CARA

Come on. Answer the door. The length of time between pulling the bell and waiting for the door to open was agony. It had taken a while to work out where the doorbell was; it was one of those old-fashioned pull contraptions which ring an actual bell. Of course. Jack always did like to show he was better than anyone else.

Should she try again? Maybe they hadn't heard? They were definitely in because they'd pulled up outside half an hour ago. Half an hour. That's how long she'd been waiting in the car, trying to pluck up the courage to go in as well as rousing a reluctant Sophie from the back seat, where she'd fallen asleep. On the upside, this late hour might work in her favour.

The last remnants of summer seemed to have disappeared in the last few days, and tonight's cold October air had blown the last of the sleep from Sophie. Now she jumped from one foot to the other, chattering with the excitement of being allowed up so late. ‘I like the door, Mummy. It's blue. My favourite colour.'

Cara smiled at the blue bobble hat pulled so far down over Sophie's ears that she could barely make out her nose between that and the scarf tucked up around her chin. ‘It is nice, isn't it? Hopefully it will open up soon.'

As if she'd conjured it with her words, the latch on the door clicked and it opened to reveal an attractive woman of around thirty, holding a glass of red wine. Even though her hair was shorter – cut to chin length with a full fringe – Cara recognised her from the picture she'd found on an old friend's Facebook page: Rebecca. Did she live here too?

‘Hello?' Rebecca tilted her head, her shiny hair swinging back and forth.

Her vivid blue wrap dress, manicure and expertly discreet make-up made Cara feel shabby and scruffy. It must be nice to have the money to look like that. ‘Hi, I'm looking for Jack Faulkner. Does he live here?'

Rebecca glanced down at Sophie and then back to her. ‘He does. I'm his wife, Rebecca. Is he expecting you?'

Wife? So, he'd turned out to be the settling down type, after all. ‘Can you just tell him that Cara is here to see him? Cara Miller.'

This was ridiculous: she sounded like a ten-year-old calling for her friend to play out. Jack was always a soft touch, but he didn't need his wife to play bodyguard, surely? Was she ever going to let them in? Rubbing Sophie's arm as if to warm her up had the desired effect: Rebecca held the door open. ‘Do you want to step into the hall?' She stood away from the entrance and leaned backwards to call out, ‘Jack! There's someone here to see you.'

Inside, the warmth hit them like a slap after the crisp October evening. Though they rubbed their feet on the doormat, their boots made damp footprints on the black and white floor tiles. Cara took in the high ceilings, the Tiffany lightshade, Jack's sketches framed in black, lining the left-hand wall. She pulled the hat from the top of Sophie's head, her blonde curls lifting with the static. The heat wasn't the only reason for taking it off; it was important that Sophie look her best.

Jack also had a glass of red wine in his hand when he appeared in the doorway to what was presumably their lounge. Sitting in the car, she had wondered if he would recognise her straight away, but the look on his face answered that question. ‘Cara? What are you doing here?'

Rebecca looked from one to the other. Did she know who Cara was? Had Jack ever mentioned her before? ‘I… er… I need to talk to you about something.'

She couldn't blame Jack for being shocked. It had been a while. And Rebecca looked completely on the back foot.

‘Do you want to come through to the lounge?' Rebecca held out a hand towards the door. ‘We've just finished a bottle of wine but I can make you tea and—' she looked at Sophie ‘—milk?'

Though a girlfriend had felt likely, Cara hadn't factored in a wife. It would be far better to speak to Jack alone. ‘Black coffee would be great, thanks.'

Sophie pulled on her mother's hand. ‘I need the toilet, Mummy.'

Rebecca pointed to a doorway under the stairs. ‘There's a toilet there you're very welcome to use. Just come through when you're ready.'