Chapter 10
10
JESSE
Five Months Ago – January
‘How’s it going?’ Jesse asked, as he answered the FaceTime call he was anticipating. He was walking around the flat searching for Ida’s cuddly koala as he took the call. He picked up cushions and looked under the sofa, again.
‘Good thanks,’ Hannah replied efficiently, staring into the screen at her own face rather than Jesse’s. ‘Everything OK?’ Vague questions. She could only ever steal a few minutes during a client dinner, a quick text or a phone call from the loo. She always hoped Jesse’s answers would be just as expeditious.
‘I couldn’t find Kling – can’t find him anywhere.’
‘Oh dear.’
‘She must have left him at school – so we had a bit of a meltdown at bedtime.’
‘Oh dear.’
Jesse threw the cushions back on the sofa, plumped them up and positioned them. Even halfway through a cuddly toy disaster, he liked his mid-century modern sofa to look aesthetically pleasing.
‘Yeah, I only just got her to sleep. She was all over the place about Kling. Probably overtired from going back to school. Magic Animal Friends did the trick.’
Jesse could tell Hannah didn’t have much time so he stopped talking about the bloody koala, gave up on him, and peered through the crack in the bedroom door. His daughter was curled and calm, facing the wall. He went in quietly, just to see the soft rise and fall of her cheek, which he showed Hannah on camera before retreating, gently pulling the door to, so the noise of Mummy on FaceTime wouldn’t wake Ida straight back up.
‘I can’t really talk, dinner is running on.’
‘Oh no.’
‘ Such a bore… ’ Hannah bemoaned as she stared into the camera from what looked like a cramped cupboard but was probably some opulent restaurant bathroom cubicle. The occupational hazard of being an accountant in the hospitality industry was it involved a lot of corporate dinners, which in turn involved a lot of Jesse ending up eating on his own or finishing Ida’s macaroni cheese leftovers. ‘The client has just ordered a bloody round of limoncello shots for Pete’s sake; I’ve just escaped to the loo to see how things are.’
‘Well yeah, it wasn’t great but she’s OK now. I’ll ask Miss Sullivan in the morn?—’
‘Did she do her Times Tables Rock Stars?’
Jesse wanted to tell Hannah he’d sacked off the times tables because the game was making Ida cry, and that was before they realised Kling was missing. They put on Just Dance instead. Horsing around to the ‘William Tell Overture’ always lifted her mood. But it was easier to say yes. He’d explain it in the morning.
‘Yep all good here.’
Little lies.
He could feel Hannah’s eyes scrutinising the screen from her FaceTime corner.
‘OK great,’ she said, as if she was only half listening anyway. She had work on her mind.
There was a knock on the toilet door.
‘Yup, hang on a sec!’ Hannah hollered, sounding stressed.
‘OK well Ida’s asleep, I’m about to have a beer, no need to rush,’ Jesse conceded. ‘I’ll watch a Peaky Blinders and clear up.’ Hannah hated Peaky Blinders . And Narcos and Planet Earth . So Jesse caught up on all of the programmes she hated when she was out schmoozing, which was usually a couple of nights a week.
The person knocked on the cubicle door again and Hannah looked flummoxed.
‘Go! Enjoy the dinner. Eat their profits,’ Jesse assured her.
There was a knock again, more frantic this time.
‘Hang on, I won’t be a second!’
‘High-end restaurant with only one ladies’ loo? Jesus. They need to get more toilets.’
‘Yah this is more of a gentlemen’s club. Again.’ Hannah rolled her eyes. ‘I’ve got to go. See you later, bye.’
‘Bye, honey.’
Jesse assumed Hannah had already left the call as he felt cut off by a sharp change of angle and the sudden disappearance of his wife’s face. He was about to press the red button on his phone when he realised Hannah’s phone had fallen somehow, its camera now facing the ceiling. A ceiling that looked much bigger and much more ornate than a ladies’ bathroom cubicle.
The camera was still on and the call was still running. Jesse thought Hannah would be mortified if he heard her on the toilet, she always shut the bathroom door to pee, even after sixteen years together, after eight of marriage.
‘Hannah?’ Jesse said, almost in a stage whisper. Hazy silence. Then he heard a click. Voices in the distance, getting louder. Muffled ruffling. Jesse went to say Hannah’s name again, but something stopped him, so he muted the already-low sound of the news on the living-room TV and slumped on the sofa, on the cushions he had just rearranged, eyes still on the ceiling that was showing on the phone screen. A familiar voice spoke in an unfamiliar tone.
‘I’m so sorry, darling, just tying everything up at home.’ Hannah didn’t sound like a frantic accountant in a small toilet cubicle any more. She sounded relaxed. The voices became indistinct again, then he heard a mumble, a groan. An in-joke, a laugh.
Jesse sat on the sofa of their stylish but small two-bedroom Kentish Town apartment, his eyes piercing the phone screen, dreading what he might hear.
‘I want that pussy and I want it now,’ said a male voice.
Jesse planted his hand over his mouth as he choked, remembering he might be audible even if he were invisible. He looked around his living room in shock. Sophie Raworth was looking back at him sympathetically as she read the news.
He glanced down at his phone, wanting to throw it across the room, yet he felt compelled to listen, like a prairie wolf, ears alert, his throat ravaged with thirst on the precipice of a discovery.
A thick voice. A zip.
Big lies.
A gasp. A groan.
A hairy arm came into view, a hand pushing a phone away until it was covered and muffled by a sheet, a cushion or a pillow. But still, Jesse heard the familiar cries of his wife’s pleasure, bubbling up from somewhere in his past. He ended the call before anyone could hear him cry.