Chapter 6

Fatigue hits me by the time I get home, but it's nothing that a quick shower won't fix. I can't let Linda and Zelda down. They've been looking forward to this dinner party all week.

The house is still, dark, apart from the wall light projecting into the hallway like a spotlight. Georgia must've forgotten to turn it off before going to her mate Tilly's.

Dropping my gear by the front door, I slip the Waitrose bag next to the stairway. Then, as I shrug out of my jacket, there's a creak on the floorboards and then I'm illuminated in a flood of bright lights.

‘God, you frightened the shit out of me,' I gasp, heartbeat soaring. ‘What are you doing here?'

Tom's face is deadpan, blue eyes fixed on me. He's cleanly shaven and smelling gorgeous in black chinos and a white button-down shirt. His greying, mostly white, hair is slicked back with gel. ‘I live here, remember? Where the hell have you been?'

I'm speechless for a few moments, not liking his accusing tone one bit. ‘I was working,' I hit back. ‘Where do you think I've been?'

‘At this time?'

‘Yes, at this time. What's with all the questions, anyway? Are you checking up on me?'

The accusation in my voice irritates him. ‘And why would I be doing that, hmm?' He turns up the cuff of his sleeve angrily. Tom's cool by default, but I've lived with him long enough to know when something, or someone, has rattled his cage. Was it Frank? Did he wait for him outside and grass me up after all?

‘I had a last-minute job,' I say, not meeting his eye. ‘Mrs Anderson in Golders Green. She's divorcing and wants a quick sale, and then I had to stop off at a supermarket to get some wine for tonight.'

‘I said I was getting that,' he complains, tilting his head towards the kitchen. ‘They're in the fridge. Chilean white. They were on offer.' Cheap plonk that'll give us all a headache in the morning, no doubt.

‘There was a change of plan. Linda texted. Keiko only drinks red.'

I go to hang up my jacket when he says, ‘Georgia said the alarm wasn't on when she got in from school.' Damn, I knew I should've gone back in to check. ‘Honestly, Bella, have you any idea how many break-ins there's been on this road?' he points out, tone patriarchal. Anyone would think he was talking to Georgia. But I'm not in the mood for a row. ‘You do realise the insurance won't cough up if we don't bother to put the bloody thing on.'

‘I'm sorry, okay? I was in a rush. Anyway, I thought you were going straight to Linda and Theo's?'

He looks at me carefully for a few moments, jaw tight, vein on the side of his neck prominent, and then he seems to snap out of it. ‘The eye test was cancelled. Lee had an eyelash under his lid. His wife removed it. I came home to freshen up and Georgia roped me into taking her to Tilly's for her sleepover.' A result for Georgia. She usually takes two buses to get to her best friend's house. ‘Bloody stuck in traffic all the way back.' Welcome to my world. ‘And then….' His eyes dart to the Waitrose bag. ‘What else is in that bag?'

‘What?'

‘There's more than two bottles of wine in there.'

‘I bought four and Linda asked me to pick up dessert - lemon drizzle. Everyone likes that.' My husband gives me one of his looks. ‘Two bottles won't be enough for six people, Tom,' I protest. Reaching over, I hook my jacket in between his navy padded gilet and Georgia's oversized leopard print coat, feeling his eyes burning into my back, and then I hear the swish of plastic and the tinkle of bottles. He's looking inside the carrier bag. When I turn to face him, he's holding Mr Stanhope's bribe gin and reading the label, a slow smile on his lips.

‘We were running low,' I lie. ‘I'll just freshen up and we'll get going. I texted Linda to say I'm running late, so…'

‘We've got an unopened bottle of Bombay Sapphire in the cabinet,' Tom interjects. ‘You've splashed out a bit, haven't you? I haven't had Hendricks's in ages.' He twists the screwcap. Shit, I'll have to buy Mr Stanhope another bottle now. ‘It's your turn to drive, isn't it?' It sounds more like an order than a question.

‘Actually, I'm shattered. Do you mind if we get a cab?' I take his silence as a yes. ‘I'll get the glasses, then, shall I?' I say dryly. ‘Ice and lemon?'

‘Just ice, thanks,' he says, peering at the Merlot in the bag. ‘By the way, anything else you'd like to share?'

I freeze, stomach tightening. ‘No, I don't think so.' I head for the kitchen; he goes to follow me when his phone pings. His footfall stops. ‘If that's Theo, tell him we'll be there in half an hour.'

Flicking on the kitchen light, I quickly grab two tumblers, stick a few ice cubes in them and amble back into the hallway, ice tinkling against the glasses.

‘Did you hear what I said?' I look up at Tom, but he's busy texting with his thumb, bottle of Hendrick's aloft in his other hand. ‘God, what a day...' I begin, holding a glass out to him, and I can't help but wonder who he's texting with such urgency. By the look on his face, it's work related. Maybe it's that golfing chum Lee with the lash. Perhaps his wife poked him in the eye whilst trying to remove it. ‘Traffic was heaving and Mrs Anderson was a bit chatty.'

Tom slips his phone into his back pocket, then pours a generous amount of gin into each glass. ‘So, when were you planning on telling me?' I go cold all over. Damn. Frank did wait for him and now Tom knows everything. The double-crossing bastard. But no, no, not everything. If Tom knew about Liam, my bags would've been packed by the door. ‘Any tonic for this?' Tom asks.

‘I think there's one or two under here,' I say, grateful for the extra few seconds to think of a justification for hiring a personal trainer behind his back. Rummaging around in the understairs cupboard, I pull out a can of Fever Tree and hand it to him, dread soaring through my body.

‘It's not something you can hide, Bella, is it?' Well, technically, it is. I was using my personal account to pay for my PT lessons, so Tom would be none the wiser. ‘Can you hold this please?' He hands me his glass and I pray he doesn't notice the tremor in my hand as I take it.

‘Do you think we can talk about this later. I told Linda we'd be there by eight-thirty at the latest.'

I go to move, his hand flies up like a shield, and then he cocks his head sharply towards the living room, and it's only then that I see a pair of legs in black floaty trousers and a pair of white trainers in the gap of the door, followed by the rattle of a cup and saucer.

‘Your seven-thirty,' he whispers, eyes darkening. ‘I mean, you might've warned me.' I open my mouth to tell him that I've no idea what he's talking about but he just talks over me. ‘I looked like a right twat. Why did you book her in tonight of all nights, when you knew we had plans? Honestly, Bella, what were you going to do? Leave me sitting at Theo and Linda's with your sister and her new bloke like a gooseberry?'

‘No, of course not,' I mumble absently, as he groans that it wouldn't be the first time. ‘I honestly don't know…'

‘Poor girl expected to find you here,' he cuts across me angrily. ‘She was a bag of nerves when she arrived, shaking like a leaf. I had to make her a sweet tea to calm her down.'

I run a hand over my face. Strangely, I felt relieved when I thought Tom knew I'd been spending shedloads of our cash on a personal trainer. Now, I'm back to harbouring two secrets. ‘I'm sorry but I don't know who that woman is, or what she's doing here. I certainly didn't invite her over.'

‘She asked for you by name,' he seethes. ‘Bella Villin. I put her right, said your name is Harris.' I look at him blankly, and he rubs the side of his forehead with two fingers – something he does when he's getting pissed off with me. ‘She's here about the temp's job,' he states. ‘Apparently, you arranged it with her aunt.'

‘Aunt?' It can't be Mrs Anderson's niece already.

‘One of your clients.' He scrunches his eyes, frowning. ‘Tina.' Crikey. It is. Mrs Anderson didn't waste much time. ‘Look, I had to step in in your absence. Explained everything, hours, rate, and she's happy with the arrangement. She seems like a nice enough girl – keen. Look, you need help, Bella. I don't know why you've been dragging your feet. It's not as if we didn't budget for a temp, is it?' No, but I dipped into that budget to pay for a personal trainer instead. ‘Anyway, let's just park that for now and concentrate on her.' He jerks his head towards the lounge. ‘It would've been nice if you'd told me you were interviewing tonight, that's all.'

‘Do you honestly think I knew about this? I only spoke to her auntie.' I look at my watch. ‘About an hour ago. Mrs Anderson said she'd have a word with her niece and get her to call me.'

Confusion sweeps across Tom's face. ‘Right. I see. Sorry for jumping down your throat.' A pause and then. ‘Bit keen, aren't they?'

‘Tell me about it.'

‘Well, anyway, she's here now, so you might as well talk to her.' Ushering me towards the door, I let Tom take the half-filled glass from my hand like a robot, even though I haven't finished my drink yet. ‘Just go in there and have a quick word, then we'll make tracks.' I go to push the door and then he says. ‘By the way, I told her she's hired.'