Chapter 15

‘I don't know about you, but I'm stuffed,' Theo says, two hours later, rubbing his bloated belly. We're sitting on the garden patio, enjoying the afternoon sun. Theo is stretched out on the rattan lounger and I'm on a chair next to him. Frank hasn't left Zelda's side all afternoon, not even for a loo break, which has made Linda's plan impossible. Jesus, what kind of bladder has he got? He's guzzled enough beer and wine today to fill a barrel with wee.

‘We've still got dessert.' I look up at the cloudless sky. Birds chirp and croak in trees. Their voices a backing track to the hum of conversation and laughter in our garden. It's hard to believe it's mid-March. It feels like a spring day.

‘I'm sure I could squeeze some in.' Theo smiles. ‘Is it one of Zelda's?'

‘No, she didn't have time. I made a crème caramel.' Out of a packet, but he doesn't need to know that.

‘My favourite. Nice and light.' Theo points his beer bottle at Frank. ‘So, what do you make of pretty boy, then?'

I look across at Frank – he's talking to Tom at the garden table, crowded with plates smeared with food and crumbs, bottles of wine, squashed cans, a jug of orange squash and half-filled glasses. Frank looks relaxed – legs outstretched and crossed at the ankles - hands on the back of his head, revealing patches of sweat under the armpits of his pale blue shirt. Zelda is sitting next to him, looking on, with a faraway expression. I know that look. She's bored senseless. I wonder if she's tiring of him. It'd make life a lot easier if she dumped him of her own accord. At least he hasn't forced her into an uncomfortable ensemble today. My eyes sweep over her starry print emerald green tunic, tanned legs and white trainers. I notice that she keeps looking at her phone – checking the time, or is she waiting for a text?

‘I don't really know him that well, Theo,' I offer, wondering how much Linda has told him. ‘He was my personal trainer at Serval for a few weeks.' Theo nods, she's told him that much, then. I narrow my eyes at a jaybird that's landed on a branch in our magnolia. ‘But I think they're unsuited.' I take a sip of GT. Ahead, Linda tops up Zelda's glass with prosecco, then offers some to Daisy, who declines.

I discovered that Daisy was teetotal on her second day with us. Her glass of merlot, which Tom put in front of her automatically, as if it were a given, went untouched during our Sunday roast. ‘If you prefer white or blush, I'll get some in next time,' I told her, when Tom had gone out to chuck the empties into the recycle bin and Georgia had disappeared upstairs. ‘It's really no bother at all. I quite enjoy a glass of white, especially during summer.'

‘I don't drink,' she confessed, rolling up her sleeves at the sink.

‘What, nothing?' I stopped clearing the table and looked at her, several glasses squeezed between my fingers.

‘Nope. Mother was an alcoholic and father wasn't far behind her. They weren't good drunks – argued a lot – sometimes got violent. We had the Garda out occasionally. It put me off booze for life.' I now make sure the fridge is fully stocked with Coca-Cola and sparkling spring water – her favourite tipples.

Linda, clearly tipsy now, insists that Daisy has a drop of fizz in the manner of Mrs Doyle from Father Ted, but Daisy covers her empty glass of cola, which prompts Georgia to stick out her glass instead, arm stiff.

‘Oi,' I call out, shooting to my feet, ‘you're too young to drink.'

‘Oh, let the girl have some fun,' Linda yells, waving the bottle. ‘You were a teenager once, remember.'

‘No,' I shout, pointing a finger and taking a few steps towards them. ‘Linda,' I warn, ‘Don't.' At this, Linda shrugs and sways a little as she sits back down on the bench next to Daisy, and Theo raises his eyebrows at me knowingly.

‘Motherrrr!' Georgia cries out furiously, as Zelda tiptoes past me, miming loo. ‘Why do you always have to spoil EVERYTHING? I have had alcohol before, you know.'

‘Not under my roof.'

‘Oh, whatever!'

‘Hey, do as you're told,' Tom says absently, without looking up from his phone, and Georgia folds her arms, muttering under her breath, probably obscenities about me and her dad.

I sit back down to a babble of female laughter. ‘What do you think of him?' I ask Theo, cocking my head at Frank.

Theo narrows his eyes, ‘I dunno.' He twists his wedding ring around his finger. He can't know about Linda's night of passion with Frank. Linda told me he didn't say a word after we left that night. ‘Bit flash, isn't he?' I stay silent. ‘Full of himself.'

‘Personal trainers are like that. Posers. They like to show off all those gorgeous muscles.' I realise what I've said and feel my face tingle.

Theo removes his glasses, unperturbed by my comment, exhales on the lenses and wipes them with the hem of his olive-green casual shirt, wrinkled from bunching up against his skin on the chair. ‘Cocky bastard, if you ask me,' he mutters under his breath. He's right, of course, but I don't say anything.

‘How's your sister Elaini?' I ask, changing the subject, as Theo slides his glasses on and leans back in his chair. I love it that he hates Frank but I don't want to spur him on. ‘Is she coping okay?'

‘She had her last chemo on Wednesday. It's really taken it out of her, Bella.' Theo smiles sadly, eyes filling, then he takes a gulp of beer. ‘She's seeing the consultant next week.' I've upset him. Theo has a very close-knit family. Why did I have to mention Elaini? The awkward silence is filled with Georgia and Daisy's voices, arguing over a selfie that Georgia has just taken and is threatening to post on Instagram.

‘Don't you dare,' Daisy screeches, chasing Georgia around the garden. Georgia screams and Frank turns his head stiffly and watches them, forearms resting against his thighs.

‘Gym guy likes the ladies, eh?' Theo remarks loudly, over Georgia and Daisy's squealing. I hope that observation is because he can see him eyeing Daisy up and not because he's suspicious about Frank and Linda, because if he is, then my life won't be worth living.

‘He gets a lot of attention from the women at the gym,' I say. ‘Mostly middle-aged.' Theo nods, eyes on Frank. Shit, why did I say that? Linda's middle-aged.

The sound of Tom's laughter snatches my attention. Frank is showing him something on his phone. At least one of us is having fun. I can't stop thinking about how I'm going to corner Frank and whether Linda's master plan will work.

Tom, who is now in possession of Frank's phone, throws his head back and laughs some more, which causes Zelda to dart a glance at them as she fills a glass with red wine at the table. I bet Frank's showing him some of his dad joke memes. Tom chuckles as he slides a finger across the screen of Frank's phone, and then suddenly his expression hardens and his head snaps up at me. Acid swishes in my stomach. Why is he looking at me like that?

Tom seemingly doesn't notice when Frank snatches the phone out of his hands until he mutters something to him. Tom looks round at him, nods, says something.

And now Tom is making his way towards us. Frank behind him, head bowed. What has Frank done?