Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
Victoria
And then I made myself the biggest, strongest cup of coffee I could.
Sipping the bitter black liquid, I hope that it jump-starts my fuzzy brain so that I can come up with some practical steps to take.
Camilla was in my house last night. That means she broke in.
That means that she’s committed a crime and I can go to the police.
But what will she tell the police about me?
‘Really?’ he asks because since he gave up work he has taken over the drop-off and pick-up from school, something we used to share.
‘Yeah, my first meeting is late and Blake won’t mind if I’m not in at exactly nine a.m.’
I don’t mention that the reason Blake won’t mind is because I quit my job. I don’t mention that I am planning to drop the kids off and then park somewhere quiet and get some sleep so that I can tackle the Camilla problem clear-headed.
Normally I would confide in my husband, but since he resigned from his job, I am finding it difficult to talk to him.
And I know he will be completely furious about me quitting.
I have effectively deprived my family of income.
I can’t have a conversation with Ed about work.
And I can’t have one about Camilla because I’ve never even mentioned her to Ed.
At some point Reese and I decided that we never wanted to discuss Camilla again.
We moved on and we simply pretended she had never existed.
I would usually call Reese who I know would have some sympathy and advice and a way to make me feel better over the job thing and she would also understand why I’m so freaked out about the photograph, although perhaps anyone would understand that.
She may not understand about my reluctance to call the police but she doesn’t know everything that I did. Was any of it illegal? Or was it just immoral?
But I can’t call her because I know she’s going to want to talk about Ben and I don’t see the point in that discussion. I still can’t figure out why she wants to have that discussion again. I thought we discussed it to death when it happened.
The coffee is no help and my brain feels like it’s surrounded by cotton wool as I automatically make lunches and pack the boys’ bags.
In the car on the way to school, I am only dimly aware of them arguing about something because nothing feels quite real.
‘Are we staying at after-school care?’ asks Dylan when I pull into the drop-off line.
‘Oh.’ I think hard. ‘Yes, yes, you are. Daddy works in the studio on Fridays.’
‘I hate, hate, hate after-school care,’ whines Cash.
‘Me too, me too,’ agrees Dylan.
‘Sorry, but Daddy has to work and I do too,’ I lie. ‘And you never want to leave when I come and pick you up, so you can’t hate it that much,’ I say with a sigh. I am so tired, I feel like I might cry.
‘Out you get,’ I chirp, trying to sound enthusiastic. ‘Have a lovely day at school.’
I’m grateful to move out of the drop-off line and drive through familiar streets in my silent car. I pull over in a quiet street and lower my seat.
It pisses me off that I can’t go home but Ed only leaves for the studio at eleven, so I have to stay out until then.
Closing my eyes, I will sleep to come so that I can think straight. But my mind is whirling and will not rest.
After an hour, I give up and find a coffee shop where I spend money I can ill afford on a piece of chocolate cake and another strong coffee.
I keep checking my phone in case there is a reply from Blake but there isn’t one.
And then I open Instagram messages and stare at the last message I sent to Camilla.
Should I confront her? Do I threaten the police again?
She’ll just threaten me right back. This is such a mess.
I know you were in my house last night. And now I’m going to take this photo that you so kindly left to the police. So thanks for that.
I need to get aggressive with this woman.
Are you sure you want to involve the police?
She thinks she’s got me. What I did sixteen years ago wasn’t illegal, not really. But breaking and entering is, stalking is.
Yep. Going now. Unless you want to meet and tell me what the fuck this is all about?
You took everything from me Victoria.
I stare down at the words. Is that true. Did I? I meant to punish her for what she did. She deserved to lose everything. Did she really lose everything? I don’t care. I think she’s actually insane and what happened doesn’t really matter at all.
I don’t reply to that message but I do go home and I can feel my muscles relax when I walk into the house to find it empty.
Ed has, predictably, left the kitchen in a mess so I clean up and when I’m done, I feel like I can get some sleep.
Lying down on the sofa because I don’t want to struggle in the unmade bed, I fall into a deep sleep and I’m only woken by a text message on my phone.
Do you know where your kids are?