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‘Itnever came up.’Hekicked at a stain on the floor.
Outof nowhere, she thought ofWally, how he was judged for his looks, too.Notin the same way asConnor, but not entirely dissimilarly either.Thenagain, being good looking came with its perks, too.Shewasn’t completely buying his sob story.
‘Itdoesn’t change the fact that you lied to me.Andthat since we came back, you’ve been ignoring me unless you want food or sex.’
Hestudied her for a moment and reached for her hand again.Thistime she let him take it. ‘I’msorry.Ididn’t mean to make you feel that way.Ijust…didn’t want to miss this opportunity.’
Lettinghim see all the sadness she felt through her eyes, she said, ‘Wasthis opportunity more important than being honest with your wife?’Asob caught her unawares. ‘Whydidn’t you trust me to have your back?’
Thesilence hung between them.
Shecontinued, ‘I’mnot an idiot,Connor.Iwouldn’t have made you skip this meeting because of where it came from.Iknow just as well as you what it could mean for you.Foryour career.’Sheturned her head towards the wall and squeezed his hand. ‘Butwe could have worked together to figure out a way through it that sidelinedValentina.’
Heraised her hand to his lips and kissed her just above her rings. ‘Ican only apologise.AndsayIwon’t do it again.’
‘Okay, well.’Shestudied their conjoined hands, frozen in an imitation of the day he slipped that wedding ring on her finger.Therewas so much more to discuss.Heneeded to change; it wasn’t an option.Theycouldn’t go on like this, with her being the invisible wife and him, the star player.Shehad plans and dreams of her own.
Butat this moment they needed to concentrate onGrace. ‘I’mnot done talking about this,’ she said, ‘but right now,Iwant to hold my baby girl.’
Shefreed her hand, threw open the door, and strode back toGrace’sroom.Butnot before noticing how the woman in the waiting room ogledConnor.
Krishwishedhe hadn’t been able to hear every word ofConnorandStella’sargument, but he had.Thewalls in this hospital weren’t that thick.
‘So…’ saidClaudiawhile strokingGrace’sarm, ‘how’d the proposal go?’
‘Itdidn’t.’Hehoped she wouldn’t ask more.Thelast thing he wanted to do was launch into that story.
‘Oh, well.Sorryto hear that.’
Thatwas surprisingly sensitive forClaudia.
‘Kiss,’Gracecalled to him.Shecouldn’t say his name properly.Hethought it was adorable.Pickingup her little hand, he nuzzled the palm and then blew a raspberry on her stomach.Shegiggled.
Yes, she would be fine.
StellaandConnoron the other hand…
Ashe listened to their argument, something struck him that seemed profound in that moment: a couple having a biological child didn’t guarantee any fairy tale endings.Peopleacted like that was the gold standard of families, but it simply wasn’t.Familiescame in all shapes and sizes.Assumingeverything was in working order, any man could make a baby.GeorgeLucaswas 69 when he had his last child.
Butit took a real man to make a relationship work.
34
Francescalookedup at the odious building that housed her old office.Sheshuddered.Howhad she put up with this place for so long?Itstank of urine and made her feel like she was a character in a film where people would scream at the screen: ‘Don’tgo in that room!He’sgoing to kill you!’
Afterher call with the bride, that scenario seemed uncomfortably more probable than it had before.Herbrain flip-flopped between thinking nothing would happen to believing that she was in mortal danger.
Onehand held her cricket bat, which she tapped against the side of her calf.Herother hand stroked the bottle of criminal identifier spray in her pocket.She’dbought it from aFacebookad months ago, but then stuck it in a drawer and never used it.Pepperspray was illegal, so the next best thing was a non-toxic red foam that stuck to criminals’ skin.She’dwatched a video of somebody testing it, and he said it took him four days to wash off.
Forthe millionth time since leaving her flat, she surveyed the landscape for tails, just in case.Nothingseemed out of the ordinary, but then again, what did she know?Thatguy vaping next to the newsagent across the road could be a mob hitman.Thatold woman with theZimmerFrame, a trained killer.
Heftingthe cricket bat onto her shoulder with a confidence that was all for show, she swaggered towards the door and pushed it open.Breakinginto a run, she climbed the stairs two at a time, assuming that a fast target would be harder to hit.
Shecrashed through the door to her office and the first thing to hit her was the stench.Shecovered her mouth with her hand.Take-away boxes filled with gnawed bones littered the desks, and crushed cans lay like little aluminium corpses across the floor.Somebodyhad been squatting here.
Placingher cricket bat on the table, she pulled a bin liner and a pair of yellow gloves out of her backpack, having come prepared for all possibilities.Shequickly did what she could before the builder arrived, filling up two bin bags in minutes.Theodour of rotting food lingered.
Allshe could think as she tidied was that she longed to be inCamden, in the office she shared withKrish.
