Chapter 55
FIFTY-FIVE
JEMMA
Jemma was checking the beef bourguignon when her phone rang. Popping the lid back on the dish, she placed the spoon on the spoon rest, cursing silently when she failed to catch a drip before it plopped onto her pristine worktop, then hurried to answer.
Noting it was Jack calling on the new number he’d texted her using, her heart missed a beat.
‘Anyone interesting?’ her husband asked, coming into the kitchen.
‘Sales call,’ she said, eyeing the ceiling in faux despair and quickly pressing reject.
Andrew was perusing the wine rack for a suitable wine to complement the food when the phone rang again. ‘Persistent buggers,’ he commented, arching an eyebrow in her direction.
‘I get loads of them.’ Jemma sighed. ‘They drive me mad.’ A flutter of panic climbing her chest, she rejected that call too, then placed the phone face-down and pushed it to the back of the worktop.
‘Merlot or Malbec?’ Andrew asked, pulling a bottle out and examining the label.
‘I’m not fussed. You choose.’ Jemma opened the top cupboard, mopped her too hot forehead with the back of her hand, then fished the dinner plates out.
‘You should block those calls.’ Andrew glanced at her and back to the wine, his look inscrutable. ‘Register your phone with the Telephone Preference Service.’
Jemma’s heart stalled. He sensed something.
She could tell by his frequent glances and stiff body language.
Just as he had when she’d behaved furtively once before.
Why in God’s name would Jack be calling her at this time of day when she’d specifically asked him not to?
Not to call at all, in fact, unless for a legitimate reason.
‘Good idea. I should have done it before, but I haven’t had much time,’ she said, studiously avoiding eye contact as she went to the oven to put the plates in to warm.
‘Would you like me to do it for you?’ Andrew asked, a curious edge to his voice that told her he also knew very well she wasn’t about to let him anywhere near her phone.
‘No, dinner’s almost ready,’ she said, closely followed by ‘Shit!’ as she managed to burn herself on one of the oven racks.
‘You should run that under the cold tap,’ Andrew suggested, now pointedly not looking at her.
Flustered, Jemma hurried to the sink, yelling, ‘Kids, dinner in five minutes,’ as she passed the door to the hall.
Why had she done it? she asked herself, as she had a thousand times over.
Andrew couldn’t find out. She’d acted stupidly, selfishly and impulsively, risking everything.
She’d regretted it immediately, terrified she might lose her husband, lose her home and her family.
She couldn’t. She loved Andrew. Despite his workaholic tendencies, staying late at the office because other people couldn’t get their accounts in on time, she’d loved him then.
She’d told herself he wasn’t paying her enough attention.
That he wasn’t there for her when she’d lost her dear mum.
It wasn’t true. He had been. Tried to be.
He’d never been overly demonstrative emotionally, but he’d done his best to support her.
The truth was, feeling jaded by the effort of juggling her own work, caring for her mum and the children – unseen, unless as a mother – she’d been flattered by the attention, attracted to a man who found her attractive.
How na?ve and immature she had been. It was Jack’s number she should block.
Thankful when the children bustled noisily into the kitchen, she concentrated her efforts on them, whilst keeping one eye on Andrew, who seemed not to be joining in much with the conversation, and one eye on her phone in case he wandered over and picked it up.
Once the meal was over and Andrew had encouraged the children into the lounge for half an hour’s TV before bed, she seized the opportunity to grab the phone, which seemed to be taunting her, and retreat with it to the loo.
She would text Jack, she decided, tell him she was deleting his number and why.
And then delete the text. Hell. She wasn’t cut out for all this subterfuge.
Andrew would take one look at her face and know in an instant something was going on.
She was sure he suspected something before.
He didn’t confront her, didn’t force an argument.
He simply looked at her so sadly it wrenched her heart from her chest. This had to stop.
Firing up her phone, she was taken aback to see a string of missed calls from Kara. Oh no. A lurch of fear gripped her. Did she know?