Chapter 23
TWENTY-THREE
Florrie was crying so hard, she didn’t notice Ed come into the room.
He eased onto the bed beside her, slipping his arm over her shoulder and kissing the side of her head.
‘I’m so sorry you’re feeling sad. I wish I had a magic wand to wave and make everything better.
’ He held her close, smoothing her hair until her sobs subsided, then eased back and placed his thumb under her chin, tilting her face to him. ‘You okay now?’ he asked softly.
She shook her head, wiping her eyes with her fingers. ‘Not really. No.’ She felt exhausted, as if she had a lead weight on her shoulders.
‘Has something else happened? Have you heard from your mum? Is your dad all right?’
‘It’s not my dad, and I haven’t heard anything else from my mum, which I guess is good news – at least, I hope it is.
’ How could she share her suspicions when he was already wracked with guilt about his parents’ behaviour contributing to the reason her dad was lying in a hospital bed in intensive care?
‘So what’s got you all upset again? Did you feel overwhelmed after everything that’s happened?
It’s completely understandable if you did.
I feel distressed and worried, and Charlie’s not my dad, so I can’t begin to imagine what it must be like for you; your mum, too.
But you could’ve told me you were feeling rubbish, I’d have listened, given you a cuddle. You shouldn’t be crying on your own.’
Tears sprang to her eyes again, the kindness in his words just about undoing her. Bite the bullet, Florrie. You have to tell him. Swallowing hard, she wiped her eyes and steadied herself. ‘I think someone’s been in the house again.’ She couldn’t bring herself to name his mother.
‘What? No way?’ She watched as myriad emotions flittered over his face, his expression suddenly hardening.
‘My mother! Again! She’s clearly looking for something in particular and not just to have a preview of your wedding dress.
It’ll be why she was so insistent on coming here to wait for the kettle to be delivered, making out she was doing us a favour when it really offered her the perfect excuse to snoop around our home.
I should’ve known.’ His anger appeared to be pushing him on.
Florrie hadn’t seen him look this annoyed before.
He continued, ‘Last Friday when you were at the Jolly and she was here, she excused herself to go to the bathroom. She was gone for ages – and I mean, ages. When I asked her what had taken her so long, and joked that I’d been thinking of sending out a search party, she told me not to be so rude, and cut me off when I asked if she’d lost something.
But all that time, she’d been snooping around, hell-bent on trying to find something – no doubt to do with the bookshop.
’ He shook his head, his breathing shallow. ‘Absolutely unbelievable.’
‘I’m sorry, Ed.’ Florrie felt the need to apologise for piling yet more unpleasant revelations about his parents onto him.
‘You’re not the one who should be sorry, they’re the ones who should be apologising, not that they ever do.
They leave a trail of trouble and distress wherever they go.
It’s why we had to move around so much when I was a kid.
’ He brushed his hand over his head, his expression morphing into one of confusion.
‘Hang on a minute… she doesn’t have a key anymore, she gave it back to me the other day.
’ He met Florrie’s gaze, searching her face.
Chewing on her bottom lip, she hoped he’d put two and two together, save her the awful task of having to put her suspicions into words.
She didn’t have long to wait. ‘No way? Surely she wouldn’t stoop so low?
That’s a massive thing, having a key cut so you can sneak into someone’s house while they’re out, without their knowledge or permission…
’ Ed shook his head, anger radiating from him.
‘The worst thing is, I can actually see her doing that.’ He pushed himself up from the bed.
‘We need to get the locks changed. I’ll call Bear, ask if he can get onto it first thing.
Once I tell him the reason, I’m sure he won’t mind.
We need to get one of those doorbells fitted, too, the sort that have a live video link to your phone. ’
Florrie looked on as this unfamiliar version of Ed strode out of the room and thundered down the stairs. Seconds later, the front door slammed shut and the house fell silent.
Florrie was sitting in the living room, curled up on the sofa and trying, but failing, to read a book; she’d lost count of the number of times she’d reread the opening paragraph.
Her stomach had been in knots since Ed had left their home in such haste, though she’d made sure not to mention it when her mum rang with an update on her father who she was pleased – and relieved – to report was now fully conscious and responding well to the medical team’s questions.
It had been good to hear her mum sounding a little brighter.
Tiredness had been creeping over her for the last hour, helped by the fire she’d lit not long after Ed had gone out, the exhausting day catching up with her.
She glanced over at the clock on the mantelpiece to see it was almost eleven p.m. She and Ed were usually snuggled up in bed together by now; she’d be reading a book, Ed with his AirPods in his ears as he listened to his latest audiobook – like Amery, he’d become a huge fan of R.J. Kingston.
Florrie was gathering her empty hot chocolate mug and paperback together when Gerty jumped up from where she was toasting herself in front of the fire and trotted into the hallway.
In the next moment, there was the sound of the key in the door, followed by Gerty’s happy whimpers and the thud of her wagging tail hitting the wall.
Florrie was making her way around the sofa when Ed appeared in the door frame.
‘Hi,’ he said.
‘Hi.’ Her eyes roved his face, noting he looked pale, drained and dishevelled. There was a look in his eyes she’d never seen before, and not just that, his body language seemed different, too. She didn’t know what to make of it. ‘Where’ve you been?’ she asked.
‘Speaking to my parents.’
The tone in his voice made her heart plunge.