Page 20 of The Girlfriend’s Secret

Will she admit it?

‘There was something,’ she tells me. ‘A piece of paper. You didn’t see it?’

‘I’m afraid not,’ I lie again. ‘And I’m afraid if it went through the washing machine, it is most likely gone now.’

God bless the torrid insides of a washing machine and their propensity to destroy flimsy pieces of paper.

Haven looks disappointed by what I just said, as she might well be, given that I have just told her something she owned has now gone for good.

‘Was it something important?’ I ask her, leading her towards what I hope will be more information for me.

‘Oh, no, it doesn’t matter,’ she says simply, but I can tell she is lying based on how quickly she puts the tip of the beer bottle in her mouth after speaking. Psychologists say that when people lie, they subconsciously try to stop themselves from saying more words, so they often put something in their mouth to cover it up as quickly as they can. While I might not have a degree in psychology, I have watched enough TV shows to know that Haven was lying to me then when she said the piece of paper was no big deal.

She knows it’s a big deal.

What she doesn’t know is that I have it in my back pocket.

‘Maybe in future, just leave my things and I’ll wash them myself,’ Haven says then.

‘Okay, I can do that,’ I reply as casually as I can.

‘It’s not that we’re not grateful for you washing our clothes,’ Joel quickly says, in case Haven’s request came across as rude.

‘Of course,’ I say, swatting the air. ‘Don’t worry about it.’

With that, the conversation is over, and while I didn’t learn any more details about what the note I found might be referring to, I did learn one thing.

Haven wants it to be kept a secret

Too bad for her that it is not.

THIRTEEN

LIANE

I’m not sure why I feel the need to re-read the note before I go to sleep, but I do, which is why I have it in my hands as I sit on the edge of the bed while my husband is in the bathroom. It’s as if I’m scouring every letter written on this piece of paper for clues, not that they offer me any. I don’t know who wrote it, nor do I know why Haven seemed too keen to not discuss this note further, despite thinking that I ‘accidentally’ destroyed it in the washing machine.

I’m just about to put the note away in the top drawer of my bedside table when…

‘What have you got there?’ Frederik asks me, and I jump because I hadn’t realised he had re-entered the room.

‘Huh? Oh, nothing,’ I say, but it’s too late because he’s already seen the piece of paper and I assume he also saw how intently I was staring at it.

‘It looks like something interesting, so what is it?’ Frederik persists, and I don’t think there’s a way of me putting this note away now without it seeming even more mysterious. So I take a deep breath and then tell him.

‘I found this in Haven’s jeans when I was washing them,’ I say as I hand it over to him.

‘What?’ he cries as he takes it.

‘Keep your voice down,’ I urge him, conscious of how close to our bedroom my son and his girlfriend are while in theirs.

‘I thought you told her you didn’t check her pockets,’ Frederik reminds me.

‘I only said that because I didn’t want her to know that I’d found it,’ I say.

‘Found what?’

‘Just read it.’