on a part-time salary? Dream on, Lucy.’
‘So we’ll move. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that we’re happy, and we’re not at the moment, so go. Go to your precious hospital if you really must, but you have to realise that if you do, you won’t have a marriage to come back to, not even a lousy one.’
He stared at her, at the distress and anger and challenge in her eyes, and, for the briefest moment, he hesitated. Then, because he really had no choice, he turned on his heel and walked out of their bedroom and down the stairs.
She’d cool off. He’d give her time to think about it, time to consider all they’d be losing, and after he finished work, he’d come home and apologise, bring her some flowers and chocolates and a bottle of wine. Maybe a takeaway so she didn’t have to cook.
And he’d make love to her, long and slow, and she’d forgive him.
Two more weeks, he told himself grimly. Just two more weeks until the course was finished and the exam was over, and then they could sort this out.
They’d be fine. It was just a rocky patch, everyone had them. They’d deal with it.
He scooped up his keys, shrugged on his jacket and left.
CHAPTER TWO
HE’D gone. Turned on his heel and walked out.
She’d heard the utility room door close, the garage door slide up, the car start. Slightly open-mouthed with shock, she’d sat there in their bed, the quilt fisted in her hands, and listened to the shreds of their marriage disappearing off the drive in a slew of gravel.
The silence that followed was deafening.
She couldn’t believe he’d gone. She’d thought—
What? That he’d stay? That he’d phone the hospital and tell them he couldn’t go in, his wife had thrown a strop and threatened to kick him out? Hardly. It wasn’t Andy’s style. If he didn’t talk to her, he sure as eggs didn’t talk to anyone else.
And he’d told Steve he’d do it, so it was set in stone. It seemed that everything except them was set in stone.
She felt a sob rising in her throat, but she crushed it ruthlessly. This wasn’t the time for tears. She had the children to think about. Later, maybe, after they were in bed again, she’d cry. For now, she could hear Lottie chatting in her cot, and she pushed the covers aside and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, heading for her baby on autopilot.
She’d pack him some clothes—just enough to tide him over, give him time to think about things—and drop them off at work. Maybe that would shock him to his senses, because something surely had to.
She walked into Lottie’s room, into the sunshine of her smile, and felt grief slam into her chest. What had their baby done to deserve this?
‘Hello, my precious,’ she crooned softly. ‘Oh, you’re so gorgeous—come here.’ She scooped the beaming baby up against her heart and hugged her tight. Delicious, darling child, she thought, aching for what was to come. The fallout from this didn’t bear thinking about.
But Lottie didn’t know and she didn’t care. She was beginning to whine now, pulling at Lucy’s top, and she took her back to bed and fed her.
She was still breastfeeding her night and morning, but she might not be able to keep it going, she realised with a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, not if she had to get the girls ready for school and out of the door in time to get to work. She stared down, watching her daughter suckle, treasuring every second of this fleeting, precious moment.
The baby flung her little arm out, turning her head at a sound from the window, endlessly curious and distracted now her thirst was slaked, and Lucy sat her up in the middle of the bed and handed her a toy to play with while she packed a bag for Andy.
It seemed so wrong—so unnecessary! Why couldn’t he see? Why couldn’t he give them the time they surely deserved?
Damn. She swallowed the tears down, threw his razor and deodorant and toothbrush into a washbag, tucked it into the holdall and zipped it up. There. Done. She’d drop it in later, on their way out somewhere.
The zoo?
No. It was cold and rainy. Maybe she’d take them swimming to the leisure centre, to take their minds off Andy’s absence.
Oh, help. She’d have to tell the girls something—but what?
That he was working? So busy working he didn’t have time to come home, so he was going to stay at the hospital?
That was a good point. She had no idea where he’d stay, and she told herself she didn’t care, but he might need to wear something at night. She unzipped the bag again, put in the emergency pyjamas which never saw the light of day and a clean dressing gown and the slippers his aunt had sent him for Christmas last year, and tugged the zip closed with a sinking feeling.
Christmas. It was only a little over two months away.
Would he be there with them for Christmas? What if he never came to his senses?
What if they simply didn’t matter that much to him?
She choked down the sob and scooped Lottie up, carrying her and the holdall downstairs and putting her in the high chair with some toys while she put the bag into her car. He’d need his laptop, she realised, and went into his study to get it. She wasn’t giving him an excuse to come back here tonight and try to win her round. They’d been married ten years now and she knew how his mind worked. No. He had to take this seriously.
There was a large brown envelope lying on the lid of his laptop, the address written in his bold, slashing script. His assignment, she realised. She frowned at it. His writing was untidier than usual—because he was so tired? Probably. His fault, she told herself, crushing the little flicker of sympathy.
She put the envelope into the case with the computer, threw in the power lead and his flash drive, then remembered his mobile phone charger, as well, and took the case out to the garage.
By the time she got back into the kitchen, the girls were coming down the stairs, giggling and chasing each other into the kitchen.
Oh, lord, how to tell them?
‘Morning, darlings.’
‘Morning!’ Emily reached up as she bent down and kissed her, then went and sat at the table, legs swinging. ‘Mummy, what are we doing today?’
Megan’s arms were round her hips hugging her, and she stroked her hair automatically and tried to smile at her daughters. ‘I don’t know. What would you like to do?’
‘Can we feed the ducks with Daddy?’ Megan asked, tipping her head back, her eyes pleading.
She hauled in a breath, her smile faltering. ‘No, sorry, he’s had to go to work.’
‘But he said he wasn’t working today!’ Emily said, looking appalled. ‘He promised us!’
‘I
