Chapter 16 #2
‘I’ve got something for you,’ SJ muttered, wondering in amazement how it was still possible for him to elicit such a startling response from her body – particularly her hungover, party-all-night, very tired body.
A brief rummage in her bag produced a bent bar of chocolate with A Present from Temple Bar emblazoned across the wrapper.
‘Ha ha – lunch.’ Jacob pounced on it and then put it to one side and took hold of her shoulders. ‘But first, my tour. Follow me.’
They didn’t get any further than the bedroom. He’d even changed the sheets, she noticed, touched as he flung back the mauve duvet cover that clashed horribly with the olive-green walls of their bedroom.
‘I really ought to have a shower first.’
He brushed away her protests with a kiss and she was glad she’d at least cleaned her teeth and had been sucking mints on the plane.
‘I shall lick you clean,’ he announced, with a wicked gleam in his eyes. Then he coughed, squared his shoulders and straightened his face as his voice took on a more formal tone.
‘But first, I shall require you to remove your clothes. You can go behind the screen. Call me when you’re undressed. I shall need to check your notes.’
He was slipping from ‘domestic engineer’ into ‘doctor’ mode, SJ realised with a flicker of amusement as she moved around the other side of the bed and unbuttoned her jeans.
‘Now, Mrs Anderson, there’s really nothing to worry about. My name is Dr Clit. If you could lie back on the couch and relax – I’m going to need to examine you.’ He pulled on an imaginary pair of latex gloves and slanted a wicked grin at her to see how she was taking it.
SJ smiled back at him and lay down obediently. They’d played this game a thousand times before. She knew the drill.
‘I will need to have a very close inspection,’ he continued, sitting on the bed beside her and trailing a hand along the outside of her bare thigh. ‘Are you ready, Mrs Anderson? Are there any little problems you need to tell me about before we start?’
SJ shook her head, looked at his serious profile and went along with the game.
It was only later, when she was still reeling from her orgasm and Jacob was lying eyes closed beside her, that she remembered what their next-door neighbour had said about Alison.
She propped herself up on her elbows, still fuzzy and soft in the afterglow, and turned her attention to her husband.
‘What did Alison want?’
‘Alison?’ He looked momentarily puzzled, as if he couldn’t quite remember who Alison was.
‘My sister, Alison,’ SJ murmured sleepily. ‘Norah caught me on the way in and she mentioned her.’
‘Ah – that Alison.’ He nodded. ‘Yes, she did pop by yesterday. I meant to tell you. She wanted to know if you fancied going halves on your dad’s birthday present. She’s a bit strapped for cash.’
Alison was always strapped for cash when it came to buying presents for other people. SJ smiled. ‘Did she have any suggestions?’
‘She didn’t really say. I told her you’d ring her some time.’
‘Okay,’ SJ said, happily stretching. She could never sleep in the daytime like Jacob could, however tired she was. She clambered out of bed and showered and sorted out her dirty laundry to take downstairs.
She might as well put a load of washing on, she thought, hauling Jacob’s jeans out of the washing basket and emptying the pockets on autopilot.
A toffee, a fiver and a receipt. She smiled.
However many times she asked him, he never remembered to take things out of his pockets.
Distractedly, she glanced at the receipt.
Two pizzas – one pepperoni, one Hawaiian – ordered at ten thirty-five the previous night and delivered by Peter.
What an amazing thing technology was. Hang on a minute.
Hadn’t Jacob told her he’d gone out for a pizza?
So why would the receipt say it had been delivered?
She felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle and a spark of unease flickered in her stomach. Alison’s favourite pizza was Hawaiian.
It didn’t mean anything. No doubt there was a perfectly reasonable explanation. She went back upstairs and found Jacob was fast asleep. Perched on the edge of the bed, she stroked a strand of hair back from his face. ‘Hey, sleepy head, are you staying there all day?’
‘Uh huh,’ he mumbled, opening one eye. ‘Have you brought me a cup of coffee?’
‘I’ll make us one in a minute. So what time did Alison come round last night? Was it before you went out with the boys or after?’
‘After.’
SJ frowned. ‘But I thought you said you went to the Jolly Sailor and had a few more in town and then went for a late-night pizza.’
‘Yeah, we did. What’s with all the questions, SJ?’
‘So what time did Alison come over then?’
There was a little silence, and she could feel a nugget of anxiety building deep within her. Something didn’t add up, but then her brain wasn’t exactly in gear. What she really needed was to catch up on sleep. But Jacob still hadn’t answered her question.
‘I was quite pissed, SJ. I’m not sure of the times.’ He closed his eyes, indicating the discussion was over. SJ wished she could leave it there, but she couldn’t.
She wished Norah had been more specific, but she could hardly nip round and cross-question her…
‘Er, what time exactly was my sister here?’ Although doubtless she’d be able to tell her the exact times of arrival and departure.
Norah didn’t have a terribly exciting life.
And why was Jacob being so evasive? It wasn’t like him.
He couldn’t have anything to hide. Nothing to do with Alison anyway – he didn’t like her much. He’d always agreed with SJ that her sister was deep-down-shallow. In fact, she had a feeling he’d coined the phrase.
Downstairs, she paced while she waited for the kettle to boil. Maybe she should give Alison a ring. That would clarify things.
‘Hiya, SJ, how’s it going?’ Her sister sounded bright and chirpy. ‘Did you have a good time in Dublin?’
‘Yeah – great, thanks. Jacob said you’d popped over about Dad’s present.’
‘That’s right. I thought we could get him a season ticket for Romford FC. What do you think? Mum said he’d like one, but they’re quite expensive.’
‘Good idea.’ SJ was burning to ask what time Alison had come over, but she didn’t want to admit she didn’t know. She cleared her throat and heard herself saying, in a voice so casual she couldn’t believe it was hers, ‘Did you enjoy the pizza?’
‘Er – yes, it was scrummy, thanks. Look, I’ve got to go, SJ – the kids are fighting. Speak soon. Byee.’
SJ disconnected, feeling cold. Why would Jacob say he’d had pizza in town with the boys if he’d had it here with Alison?
Her heart was thudding. Her heart knew there was a problem before her hungover brain had latched on to what it was. Irritated, she stomped into the kitchen and made some coffee.
The phone rang.
‘Hi, SJ, it’s – um – Chalky here, is Jacob about?’
‘He’s asleep,’ she murmured, wondering if Chalky had been one of the lads Jacob had been out with. Probably – Chalky never missed an excuse for a good piss-up.
‘Okay, no worries, I just – um – wanted to let him know I’ve got that book he was after. I can drop it over if he’s in a rush. Otherwise, I’ll see him Tuesday.’
‘Couldn’t you have given it to him last night?’ SJ blurted out, wishing she could think of a more subtle way of asking him if he’d been out with Jacob, but unable to come up with anything at such short notice.
‘Well, um – yeah – if I’d seen him last night. But – durr – I didn’t, did I? He said he’d had enough at lunchtime and sodded off early. Flamin’ lightweight!’
‘Oh,’ SJ said, feeling faint. ‘Right, Chalky. Thanks, I’ll tell him you called.’
She marched upstairs, but in the doorway of their bedroom, she hesitated.
Jacob was still asleep on his back, half covered by the duvet, one hand flung back on the pillow like a child’s.
The midday sunlight slanted across his muscled upper body and highlighted his sculpted cheekbones and the lighter bits in his brown hair where he’d been out in the sun.
As she stood there gazing at him, she felt a rush of love so intense she could have wept.
He loved her. He wouldn’t hurt her, he wouldn’t betray her – he surely wouldn’t have anything to do with Alison. Jacob was well aware of how she felt about her sister. Yet something was wrong.
Her heart was still on triple time. A giant hand twisted her intestines and squeezed at her bowels. At best he wasn’t telling her the full story about Alison’s visit. And at worst he was lying. Why?