by the change, Penny frowns. She’s no keener on talking than she was last time, but knows she must go through the motions for Will. Show Will that she’s fine. Not crazy at all. ‘I was anxious.’
‘Anxious how?’
She thinks. Where to start? Would complete honesty help? She doubts it. And anyway, she knows it was paranoia, just stupid delusion. ‘Just anxious in general. But right then I had to change my dress. It was stained. It felt important that I change it.’
‘You felt you should change your dress. Why?’
She almost laughs at the question. ‘You can’t wear something dirty in public!’
‘Who says?’
‘Well, my mum for starters …’
The woman smiles. ‘Ah, mums, eh? How’s your relationship with yours?’
Ha! She’s prepared for this one; it’s what she told Will. The grains of truth; a perfect reason why. He’s no idea she knows. But what does she know? Nothing, Penny. Nothing!
‘With Mum? Not brilliant, really.’
‘Why is that?’
‘Just the usual mum and daughter stuff.’ It feels disloyal to her mum, but it’s true in some ways.
The woman remains silent. Debbie, she’s called Debbie. Come on Penny, you need to say more. Blame mother, poor mother. ‘It’s my fault really. I try, but I never quite …’
‘Never quite what?’
‘Meet Mum’s standards.’ She catches Debbie’s gaze. ‘When I really should. Dad’s high up in the police, but Mum’s the achiever. Pretty much superwoman. She’s on the church committee, a Justice of the Peace, local school governor, Girl Guide coordinator …’
‘You feel you don’t meet your mum’s standards. How does that make you feel?’
The graduation photos on Facebook back then. Smiles, champagne, mortarboards, proud parents. She can give an honest answer to this one. ‘It makes me feel under pressure.’
‘What do you mean by pressure?’ the woman asks.
Anxiety, anxiety, crippling anxiety. Not to lose Will; to be the perfect wife. And fear. Fear of discovery; fear of Will lying.
She tries for a smile. ‘Like most women, I suppose. A need to get everything right.’
Will used to think she was perfect. She feels the tears breaking through for the first time since the wedding, but she sniffs them away. She has to get her Will back. She’ll do whatever it takes.
Dan
Maya pops her head around Dan’s office door.
‘Wasn’t sure if you were still on the phone. Is Geri OK? She sounded a bit anxious when she called earlier—’
Dan smooths his soft beard and shakes himself back to Maya’s voice. Geri is nearly eight months pregnant and every unexpected call makes his heart lurch and race with anxiety. He wouldn’t dream of telling anyone, not even Maya. They would think he was stupid, a pathetic weak fool. ‘Bloody men!’ he hears Jen Kenning laugh. ‘They’re not the ones who have to scream, puff and push, never mind dealing with the bloody haemorrhoids.’ Yet that’s the problem. If he was the one puffing and pushing, he could deal with it head-on. It’s being a helpless onlooker which scares him. ‘Yes, she’s fine thanks,’ he replies automatically, but Maya still hovers, a frown on her small forehead. ‘Well, she had a bit of a fright this morning,’ he explains. ‘The baby hadn’t moved for a while …’ The thought of losing the baby almost paralyses him. He doesn’t really want to talk about it, but knows Maya has his best interests at heart. He tries for a smile, taking in her fringe, which has changed colour since yesterday. ‘But it’s fine. By the time I’d finished with the Hendersons and phoned her back, she said the baby was doing somersaults. So all’s good now.’
Maya raises her eyebrows. ‘Sounds like a lazy boy.’ She hands him the second post. ‘There’s the signed inventory for the Oak House penthouse.’ She puts her hand on a hip. ‘I wouldn’t mind that swanky new furniture. But then again, a cigarette burn or a coffee stain …’ She grins. ‘Then there’s chewing gum, tomato ketchup, curry, hair dye. Ouch! Can you imagine the bill?’
Dan feels a prickling on his spine. ‘Oh, it’s gone then? Someone has signed up?’
‘Yeah, your dreamy chiselled friend.’ She looks for a moment at his face. ‘I assumed you knew. He signed up last week, I think. Andrew sorted it out.’
‘Oh, right. Great.’ He picks up his mug. ‘I’m parched. I don’t suppose there’s a coffee going?’
When Maya leaves the room, he sits back in his chair and breathes, feeling surprise, and if he’s honest, slight pique. Seb Taylor hasn’t been in touch, but then again, why would he? They’re not really friends. He’s the younger brother of a friend; just an acquaintance. Yet after the viewing they drove back to Chorlton Green. When they arrived, he could see Geri was dead beat, but she made pasta, then sat on the sofa in her fleecy pyjamas and chatted amiably with Seb for more than an hour.
Leaning forward, he doodles, picturing the scene. He made up the fire, then sat opposite them in the armchair and watched, mesmerised by their striking and contrasting beauty: Geri, her face plump and rounded, her black skin and dark eyes glowing and warm, against Seb’s. His face so sculpted, his nose straight and sharp, his eyes piercing and blue. The conversation was fascinating too. Geri asked the questions he wouldn’t have broached, and though Seb’s face was thoughtful, he replied easily. Information about his life, a world away from theirs. The ins and outs of modelling, the sort of money he earned, the famous people he’d met or worked with. And about Claudia, also a model, how they had loved and lived and how it stopped, suddenly.
‘I just fell out of love,’ he said with a shrug. ‘I couldn’t get enough of her one day, then the next it just ended, like I was living with a stranger.’
The fire had sizzled and snapped, the conversation moved on, eventually to sport and swimming came up.
‘Dan likes to swim,’ Geri said. ‘You should see him on holiday in his budgie smugglers. Races of course. Every blooming stroke, even butterfly. He always has to win.’
‘That’s just the toddlers pool,’ he quipped. ‘Though, seriously, there’d be no chance of beating Sebastian Taylor. A county champion, Geri. He could beat everyone. Though if it was squash or tennis, I might be in with a shot …’
‘Sunday morning, then,’ Geri replied, smiling. ‘We can sign Seb in at David Lloyd as a guest. I can go swimming, at a gentle speed for once, you two can play squash and then we can all meet in the cafe for a bite of lunch. The winner pays!’
‘You’re on,’ Seb replied, the grin back on his face. Then Geri said she was exhausted and had to go to bed. Seb ordered a taxi and they hugged at the door. An easy friendly hug, a pat on the back, see you on Sunday.
