Chapter 19 Freya
FREYA
I know just by the way the front door slams that Charlie is in a bad mood. His bulk fills the doorframe of the living room, his taut arms pulling against the fabric of his tight-fitting T-shirt, as he stands there, considering me through narrowed eyes.
“You’re home early,” I say, looking around to see if there’s any evidence that I’ve been doing something I shouldn’t. Because that’s how he’s making me feel, or maybe that’s my own guilty conscience kicking in.
“I thought you said you were working late.”
“I was,” I say, wondering if he can hear the lie as loudly as I can. “I’ve just got in.”
He goes to the fridge and I watch his muscles twitch, as if desperately hoping he’ll find a cold beer waiting for him. His brow furrows at the realization that there’s not one there—that there will never be one there.
“So what was it that kept you at the office so late?” he asks, with his back to me, as if protecting himself from what I’m about to say.
“We were just finalizing the funds for that little boy at Unicorn House.”
“At the office?” he asks again, his tone abrupt.
I look at him through a frown, as if questioning why he would feel the need to ask. But more’s the point: Why should I have to answer?
“Yeah, I was just thrashing out the details with Pauline.”
He nods. “So you’ve been in the office all this time? You’ve not gone anywhere else?” He’s staring at me intently.
I weigh up my options, assessing what the chances are that I’d been spotted at the Fleece by someone we knew.
And how well had I known them if they hadn’t said anything to me, but reported straight back to Charlie?
Not very well, I deduce. It was going to be my word against someone I barely knew, so who was he going to believe?
I wish I hadn’t asked myself the question.
“I’m sorry, I’m not sure…,” I start, hoping I look confused.
He smiles tightly. “What bit aren’t you sure about, Freya? Where you’ve been tonight, or who you were with…?”
My mouth dries up as my beleaguered brain battles with itself as to which way to go. I thought I’d been clever. I thought that ten miles was far enough away not to be seen. I thought I’d get away with it. I should have known better.
“I really don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, continuing with the charade, even though I know how unwise that is.
“So you weren’t in Cirencester?” It’s a rhetorical question that he seems pretty confident of the answer to.
“Oh,” I say, as if I’d forgotten what I was doing an hour ago.
He stares at me, silently waiting for me to do the right thing. And I would, if I was brave enough.
“I was there earlier.…”
“Who with?” he barks.
Dare I tell him the whole truth? Why shouldn’t I? I’ve not done anything wrong.
“I was with…”
Charlie’s shoulders hunch up around his ears, as if I’m about to tell him it was a secret lover.
It’s my last chance to lift the burden of deceit that hangs like a weight on my shoulders. But that’s only because he’s put it there.
“I was with … Jane,” I say, deciding against it at the last minute.
“Jane?” he questions, as I knew he would. “Who’s Jane?”
“The manager of Unicorn House. It’s her day off and she lives over that way, so I said I’d go and meet her to discuss how we can work together going forward.”
I watch as the muscles that had been so tightly wound begin to uncoil.
“She’s asked if I’d like to go down to see their new respite center on the South Coast.” It’s out before I even realized the idea had formed in my head.
But sensing an opportunity, I press on. “They’ve just finished it, but as you can imagine it’s cost a fortune and they’re looking for funding to help them run it. ”
Charlie looks at me with an air of suspicion. “When are you thinking of going?”
“Next weekend,” I blurt out, before I can stop myself.