Chapter 49

‘I'd change before leaving, if I were you,' Tom says, the next morning, as we're preparing breakfast. We move around the kitchen in synchronisation. Just as we have hundreds of times before. Only this time it's different. This time this thing, this invisible shield, hangs between us. I know what it is. It's the aftermath of my revelation about Liam. I learned early on in our marriage that Tom is one of those people who gets shocked into submission when they're insulted or mistreated, and then, when they've slept on it, rebel. But I don't rise to the bait.

‘Do I stink?' I raise my left arm and sniff. ‘All my shirts are in the wash.'

After our midnight drama with Stanhope, I left Tom in the kitchen googling phantom smells and went straight to bed. With a fitful sleep, I was the first one up this morning, slipped into my wide-legged trousers and blouse, which I was wearing all day yesterday, emptied the dishwasher, texted Mum about her flight home, fluffed up the cushions in the lounge and made a cooked breakfast for Georgia and Daisy. I then sat at the table and watched them ravish it, nursing a cup of tepid black coffee, barely registering what they were talking about – head full of Frank and Zelda and Liam.

‘I'll spritz myself with that perfume Daisy bought me yesterday.' A thank you gift for everything we've done for her, from a boutique shop called Icecube. ‘I haven't got time to wash and iron a blouse. I'll be late for my appointment.'

‘I'd use something stronger if I were you,' Tom says, pulling out a carton of milk from the fridge. ‘Those cheap scents don't last long.' I grimace but say nothing. ‘You, okay?'

‘Yes, why wouldn't I be?' I ask. Tom pulls a face, as if I'm being defensive. ‘Are you doing a full day today?' I quiz, clearing up Georgia's empty plate off the table and chucking the bacon rind in the bin.

‘Yep, back-to-back appointments.' He places two Weetabix biscuits into a white bowl. ‘Roll on Sunday.'

‘We need to slow down,' I muse. ‘Maybe think of moving again. Somewhere quieter, greener.'

I flick the kettle on again, even though it's just boiled and Tom gives me a sideward glance, eyebrow raised as he splashes milk over his cereal.

‘Move? After we've spent so much money on this place? That's just boiled, by the way,' he points out, screwing the cap back on the milk.

I busy myself with cups and tea bags. ‘Hertfordshire is nice. Cheaper, too. We could pay off all our debts and still have money left over and…'

The milk carton hits the worktop so hard it makes me jump. Tom is looking at me through angry eyes, fists clenched against the worktop, skin taut against his knuckles. ‘We agreed that we're not moving until I retire. For fuck's sake, Bella, you can't run away from your responsibilities. My work is here. Our families are here. Not to mention Georgia's private school.'

‘Keep your hair on,' I say defensively, throwing a glance at the door. ‘It was just a suggestion. And will you please keep your voice down. The girls are upstairs getting ready.'

‘I'll do as I please, thank you very much. It's my house, even though it seems to have turned into a bloody hotel.'

‘What's that supposed to mean?' I retort, ‘You're the one who hired Daisy and agreed to let her stay. Why are you being weird? I thought you liked her.'

‘Excuse me?' he says indignantly. ‘I'm not the one who…'

‘Sorry,' a voice says, and we both swivel our heads towards the door. ‘Hope I'm not interrupting anything,' Daisy says, face pink. She's standing there awkwardly in her new pink bathrobe looking beautiful and angelic.

‘No, of course you're not, love,' I say, praying she didn't hear Tom calling our house a hotel. ‘Is everything okay?'

Daisy wrings her hands, takes a step forward, shooting a quick look at Tom. She heard everything. Tom pulls out his phone and scrolls through it, glancing up at Daisy with mild irritation.

‘Um… I wanted to let you know that I've found a job. It's at a car dealership in Brentford. Money is good, great perks. Cars are top of the range. Prestigious clientele.'

‘Right,' I manage, hoping it's true and that she's not just saying this because of Tom's hostile remark. ‘Well, that's wonderful, Daisy. Congratulations.'

‘I don't want to leave you in the lurch,' she says hurriedly. ‘But they want me to start on Monday.'

‘This Monday?' I exclaim, and she nods. ‘It's a bit short notice, love. Maggie isn't due back for a few weeks.' I look at Tom for backup, but he just rolls his eyes.

‘Oh look, don't worry. Forget I said anything. I'll turn it down. I…'

‘No, it's okay, sweetheart,' I say, coming to my senses. I can't stand in her way because of my own selfish needs. This is a brilliant opportunity for her. ‘You must accept it. It was just a bit of a shock, that's all.'

‘Will you be moving out too?' Tom asks.

‘Tom,' I snap, giving him a sharp look. ‘You can stay as long as you like, Daisy.'

Daisy laughs lightly. ‘It's okay. I know I've overstayed my welcome.' No, you haven't. I love having you around. We all do. ‘You guys have been saints, but…' she pauses, looks at Tom again. Is that unease I see in her eyes? ‘I can't thank you enough.' I go to protest but she talks over me, ‘I'm looking at two flats today. They sound really good. Fully furnished, close to amenities.'

‘Oh, Daisy.' I go over to her. ‘Only if you're sure, love.' She tells me that she's a hundred-per-cent sure, and after a brief chat about her new job and the properties she's viewing today, she's gone.