Cuckoo (aka Claire, Darling)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Eight

I may have turned on notifications under my Emma Smith Facebook and Instagram accounts, to alert me whenever Noah or Lilah update their profiles so I can keep track of their relationship. I’m not proud of it, it makes me feel seedy and desperate, but surely I’m owed some sort of explanation, which Noah is clearly not going to give me.

I need to understand what I did wrong, why he left. Clearly, he has been with Lilah since they were children, so maybe he’s just staying with her out of some sort of misguided loyalty? Or a fear of change? I mean, if he had been happy with her, truly happy, why would he have asked me out? Why would he have created this beautiful life with me, put a ring on my finger, if he was content with her? I can’t help but be hopeful about the fact that her left hand is clearly bare. So he must like me more. There’s something she must be holding against him, keeping him with her against his will. I just need to find out what it is. You may think you’d behave differently, but when push comes to shove, if you found yourself in a situation as bizarre as this, I don’t doubt you would be doing the same.

I open the notification and pull up the photograph. It shows a gigantic bouquet of flowers that must have cost a small fortune. For a moment I feel a stab of panic– is she engaged? Pregnant? But no, my heartrate slows right down as I take in her caption. Lovely surprise from clients . Then I take in the setting and realise, of course, it’s a work thing. The background isn’t a home environment, I can see strip lighting that indicates an office, and the desk that the bouquet is showcased on isn’t the sort of designer shabby-chic piece that would fit in at pristine number 48. She’s clearly at work.

Perhaps there are secrets that could be extracted from studying her office. I haven’t even considered it so far, but if Lilah wants to store something she can use to blackmail Noah into staying with her, it would make sense that she’d conceal it somewhere he didn’t have access to. I flit back to LinkedIn where I type in her full name and click through to the company page. She works for Sparxx, a luxury womenswear brand that I’ve heard of but haven’t ever shopped at. It’s a bit overpriced and housewifey for me, a lot of pastel cashmere jumpers and beige cigarette trousers. Beneath the ‘About’ section the company head-office address is listed in Notting Hill. It’s not too far from my own offices. From home, it’s a bit further than I’d want to travel and I don’t usually head that far west but I have the whole day off. Maybe I can do a bit of window shopping while I’m there. I tell myself that it makes sense, that I’ll just have a little nosy around the area. I work out the best route to take.

I get dressed in to one of my staple work outfits: pale blue shirt, grey trousers with boots and my long camel coat. Then I throw on a pair of sunglasses and put a black scarf into my handbag before I make my way to the Underground station. It’s not that I want a disguise per se, but I don’t want to draw attention to myself. Lilah might be walking around the area and recognise me from the altercation at the club.

Another thought strikes me– how much does she know about me ? What has Noah told her to explain the incident where a stranger threw a ring at him in a club? Maybe she thinks it was just a one-night stand, or maybe he managed to keep it from her entirely. I mean, why would she stay with someone who had been cheating on her for over a year? Does she have no respect for herself? And all this time Noah has been with me, where did Lilah think he was? The whole way to the Underground station I wonder what is really happening behind the closed door of number 48.