Helen
‘So what did you think?’ he asked.
‘I think the treehouses looked fab, but I wouldn’t go for the wenge wood floorboards - too dark.’
‘Good point.’
She clipped the seatbelt in place just as her phone buzzed. A text from Nigel. Her heart skipped a beat again. Bloody perimenopause. She unlocked the phone and read the message. Not the ‘Hi! How are you?’ she’d been hoping for.
‘Everything ok?’ Mark asked as he turned on the engine.
‘I think you should check your phone.’
He did as she suggested. ‘What am I looking for?’
‘A phone call or a text.’
He shook his head.
‘From Lucy or Nigel?’
Mark looked panicky. ‘What do you mean? I haven’t got a signal.’
‘It’s going to be alright, but Nigel’s taken Lucy to hospital.’
‘He’s done what?’
‘To get her checked out.’
She could see the penny drop. Mark tossed his phone into Helen’s lap, slammed the car into first and accelerated up the drive. ‘Programme the satnav, will you,’ he said as he pulled out onto the main road.
Helen gripped the passenger seat. Mark had driven like his mother on the way here. She had a feeling his driving was about to become even worse. She looked at the ETA on the satnav screen. Great! She was in for a white-knuckle ride for the next thirty minutes.