of it. By then Roger was panicking anyway because she wouldn’t leave him alone and eventually she moved away.’
‘Unlikely she’d reappear after all this time.’
Charlotte shrugged. ‘I’ve looked for her on Facebook but I couldn’t–’
Fay put hand on arm. ‘Don’t!’
Charlotte shook her head. ‘I know! I hate myself for being like this and I hate Roger for making me.’
Fay spoke firmly. ‘Now come on. We don’t know he has yet. If that Hannah caused him trouble before, he’d hardly engage with her now, even if she did turn up again. And this Marion could be anyone.’
They both looked at the piece of paper Fay was still holding – displaying the name and mobile number in Roger’s handwriting.
‘A client for example’ said Fay.
‘He doesn’t have clients any more does he? He’s the in-house lawyer.’
‘Who’s negotiating a string of take-overs – he told me about it when I came for the curry. CTG are snapping up all sorts of smaller wealth management outfits, aren’t they? Marion could be some hot-shot chief executive he had to phone back – or her secretary!’
‘Yes, she could be. But my gut tells me she’s the same woman who sent the sexual message. And I feel like I did last time. When I knew there was something up but I couldn’t put my finger on it.’ Her voice became bitter. ‘And he denied it of course.’
‘Well of course he did.’ Fay’s tone was matter of fact. ‘You said – he was panicking.’
‘And I have the same feeling again,’ Charlotte went on. ‘That he’s hiding something.’
‘Your birthday present?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Look,’ Fay leant her elbows on the scrubbed wood and looked hard at Charlotte. ‘You don’t have to wind yourself up like this. You simply say: Roger, I read that message and it sounded like innuendo and I couldn’t help noticing when I was having a poke about, that you’ve changed the code on your phone. Why?’
‘But then he’ll make up something plausible that makes me sound like a mad, jealous old shrew and then I’ll feel worse. And–’ Charlotte stopped abruptly and stood up. ‘Do you want a glass of wine?’
Fay looked at her watch. ‘Yeah ok. Len’s at the office. I don’t need to go back.’ She pulled out her phone and glanced at it. ‘Just one.’
Charlotte crossed her kitchen and opened the huge fridge, returning to the big pine table with two goblets of white and a bowl of peanuts.
She sat down and took a swallow. ‘What I’m going to do,’ she said, putting the glass down and surveying Fay with what appeared to be fresh determination, ‘is see what happens on Wednesday.’
She took another mouthful of her wine. ‘If he’s got a rendezvous planned then he’ll have to make some excuse to be back late. So then I’ll know. And if she – whoever she is – has been putting him through his paces, he’ll find it was nothing to what I’ll be doing when he gets home!’
‘OK,’ said Fay. ‘So that’s a plan. Sounds good. Now, how are we getting on with the party?’
She watched Charlotte, as her friend reluctantly allowed the subject to be changed and brought Fay up to date with her investigations into cake designs and balloon prices. ‘Two hundred in silver, a hundred in this sort of pale lilac, and a hundred in burgundy – they look really stylish grouped together. And the pale ones will have burgundy lettering – The Big Five-O!’
‘I like it,’ Fay nodded. ‘Helium?’
‘Of course. Long strings so they come up from the floor, with shorter ones for the tables.’
‘Brilliant.’
‘I thought we could let them all go over Viking Bay at the end. Video it!’
‘Yeah, great.’
There was a small silence. Charlotte had finished her first glass of wine and was pouring a second. Fay put her hand over the top of her own glass. ‘Got the car.’
‘If I even feel like having a party then–’ Charlotte added.
‘You will!’ Fay ate a peanut.
‘I wish I was more like you,’ Charlotte suddenly burst out. ‘You’re so, so – sure of everything.’
‘You are like me!’ Fay grinned at Charlotte. ‘First time I met you – when you were still with Wainwright’s and there was that bloody woman with the poodles whose mortgage hadn’t gone through – do you remember?’
Charlotte shook back her curls. ‘How could I forget? You had two vans of her furniture outside and she was wailing and all those damn dogs were yapping.’
‘We were already short of a driver – that’s why I was there – and we had another job to load up the same day. I was about to land her one when you turned up.’ Fay laughed. ‘I can see you now. ‘Enough!’ you said. ‘Calm down.’ And even the dogs shut the hell up.’
Charlotte smiled.
‘I knew then that you were my sort of woman,’ finished Fay. ‘We don’t fuck about. We’re toughies.’
When Fay had left, Charlotte poured another drink, pulling a face as thirteen-year-old Joe, arriving home from school and dumping his rucksack and sports bag in the middle of the kitchen floor, frowned at her. ‘You’re not drunk, are you?’
‘Of course I’m not.’
She supposed it made a change from his usual repertoire of grunts and for once he wasn’t surgically attached to his phone or Xbox either. ‘Fay was round,’ she said, aware as she said it, of the effects of the wine on her largely empty stomach. She took the last handful of peanuts. ‘Have you had a good day?’
Joe shrugged.
‘Homework?’
‘Haven’t got any.’
‘Don’t believe you.’
He grinned at her and she heard his feet thumping their way upstairs, his bags and blazer left behind where they’d been dropped. She knew she wouldn’t see him again until she called him for dinner and that he’d disappear straight after. She sighed. The house felt different without Becky. They’d done nothing but row before she left for uni – it was time for Becky to spread her wings – but Charlotte missed her daughter more than she could ever have imagined. If it had been Becky standing here, who’d seen that text, she would have tackled Roger at once. ‘What’s this Dad? Who’s putting you through your paces? Sounds a bit strange …’
Last time, she’d tried to keep it from the kids, but Becky had picked up the tail end of the hoo-ha. Knew there’d been a woman chasing her father and had been none too impressed.
Charlotte
