Chapter 21 Fenna – Day 5
‘So . . .’ Luke says, standing in front of the mirror, squeezing a dollop of hair product onto his hands. A wide grin is on his face. ‘Rosie and Theo, getting married. Mum’s over the moon. She bloody loves a wedding.’
‘Clearly,’ Fenna replies, deadpan. She was surprised by how ecstatic Marianne seemed.
It took her ages to win his family’s affection, but it’s being handed on a platter to Rosie.
Does no one apart from her have reservations about this new girl?
‘They barely know each other, they’re not living together, and she told me that her mum hasn’t met Theo yet . . .’
‘It’s a bit of a shock, I guess, but you’re clearly not a fan judging by your outburst earlier.’
Fenna bristles. She doesn’t want to be reminded of the way Theo threw daggers at her. She usually thinks before she speaks but sleep exhaustion has clearly removed her filter.
‘It seems rushed. Don’t you agree?’
‘Yeah, it’s quick, but when you know you know.’ Luke concentrates on his reflection. ‘He’s moving in with her when they get back from this holiday and isn’t her mum on some cruise? It’s not that suspicious.’
‘Hmm. You’re sure this is all Theo’s decision?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, your mum has a lot of money. This house for one thing—’
‘You think this has to do with money?’ Luke turns to face her. ‘Theo will get a pre-nup sorted.’
‘We didn’t.’
‘That’s because I trust you.’
There’s a pause. She knows Marianne tried to push Luke to sign a legal contract but he refused.
‘Anyway, a lot can happen between now and their wedding day. Don’t stress about it,’ Luke says, checking the time.
Richard had insisted the men continue the celebrations at the bar in town and Luke said he’d join Theo and Gerry once he’d helped get the children to bed.
Evelyn and Marianne seemed happy to be left alone to catch up and Rosie said she wasn’t feeling great, blaming a bad headache on the Champagne that Marianne kept pouring for her.
Fenna pulls her hair back into a ponytail and catches her tired reflection in the mirror. ‘Something feels off about her.’ She starts to take her make-up off with a cotton pad. ‘It’s like she’s playing a part.’
‘You’ll need to give me more than that.’
She takes a breath. It would be good to get his take on things. ‘I found her notebook. It had these strange notes in it.’
‘What? Where?’
She can’t say that she rummaged through another woman’s handbag.
‘It was on the table outside,’ she lies.
‘And you went through it?’ He gives her a look.
She drags the cotton pad over her eyes. ‘That’s not the point.’
‘What did it say?’
She remembers the scribbles, the map, the heavy-handed lines through words; she wished she’d had longer to try and work out what it all meant.
‘It was weird. There was loads of stuff crossed out so it was hard to read. What jumped out at me was the name Fraser, followed by a question mark, and an address in Laprezia.’
‘Ok . . .’ he says slowly, in a slightly patronising tone. ‘Have you searched for this address?’
Fenna shakes her head. ‘Not yet but—’
He sighs and checks his watch. The gesture irritates her. She wishes she’d not mentioned it. Clearly he wishes he was out with the boys. ‘Do you remember where it was? I’ll look now.’
She picks up her phone and reads it aloud. He doesn’t ask her why she took a photo of it.
‘It’s the address of a shoe shop in the town.’ Luke frowns a second later. ‘Well, it was. It’s closed down now.’
‘Shoes? Let me see.’
He turns his phone screen towards her. Google Street View shows an ordinary-looking house. A faded sign is painted on the side of the bricks. Mario’s Shoes.
He snatches the phone back when it pings with the sound of a message.
‘Err, I was looking at that.’ Fenna pouts.
‘Sorry. It’s Richard. He’s asking what’s taking so long.’
Luke types out a message, a dart of concentration between his eyebrows.
Fenna lifts the lid of her lavender-scented night cream. A closed-down shoe shop? Why would Rosie be interested in that?
Luke glances at her, picking up on the look on his wife’s face. ‘Maybe she just likes Italian leather shoes?’
‘Maybe . . . Something feels weird to me. I’m telling you, there’s something about her that I can’t put my finger on.’
‘You jealous?’ he says playfully, reaching across and tickling Fenna in the side. ‘Worried she’s going to be the new favourite daughter-in-law?’
‘No, I’m not jealous, I’m concerned. There’s a difference. I’m thinking about our children’s safety. I mean, none of us know this woman and she’s around our kids every day. If I’m totally honest, what happened at home has made me wary of new people. Is that such a bad thing?’
They’ve never properly spoken about the break-in and how it made them feel.
The smile vanishes from his face. ‘Babe, I told you I already checked her out. She’s really normal and boring.
And besides, she’s going to be family now.
You need to forget about the burglary. It’s one of those unlucky things.
Nothing more. You can’t let it warp how you see people.
Unless you’re telling me that you think she’s the scumbag who broke into our house? ’
‘No. I’m not saying that, I—’
He cuts in. ‘Are you ok though?’
‘Me? I’m fine,’ she says, pulling back the bed sheets. She’s had enough of this conversation and needs to sleep before Raffi wakes.
‘No.’ He steps towards her. His arms hold hers so she is forced to stay put. He tightens his grip. She wants to wriggle from his grasp but he’s stronger than her. ‘Are you sure you’re ok?’
A strange rush of emotion falls over her.
It must be the way Luke is looking at her, asking if she’s ok for the first time in what seems like ages.
Suddenly she wants to tell him all the spiralling thoughts she has in the dead hours of the night.
The ones when she feels like she’s the only person awake in the world.
It’s like they leak under the gap of the closed bedroom door and swirl around in the darkness.
Mostly she stresses about feelings of guilt and regret, and concern for her children.
Sometimes it’s the news – the terror, the injustice – or the chores she’s not finished, the messages she’s not replied to, the events she’s missed.
She panics about how it’s all going too fast and too slow at the exact same time and how is that possible?
How she wants this exhaustion to end but knows she will crave this chapter of her life in years to come.
‘I’m fine.’ She pulls away.
Maybe this isn’t about Rosie.
It’s just a phase. I’ll sleep again one day.
Luke keeps his eye on her for a second or two. ‘I mentioned what you said about moving to Italy to Mum.’
‘And?’ Her heart picks up.
‘And she said we’re welcome to come here for holidays if we want, as long as there are no guests booked in. She could give us mates’ rates.’
Fenna bites her tongue. Mates’ rates? Marianne’s practically offered to pay for Theo’s wedding and all they get is mates’ rates? She remembers to breathe and follow what Luke’s saying.
‘. . . She’s worried about you.’ He drops his voice. ‘Is this idea to relocate a cry for help?’
‘No!’
‘She thinks you might need to talk to a doctor as you’re not managing the transition going from one to two. You are ok, aren’t you?’
‘I’m fine. What else did your mum say?’ She crosses her arms, trying to stay calm.
‘Maybe it’s time to stop breastfeeding and get Raffi on formula so other people can help. So it doesn’t all fall on you.’
Not this again. She exhales. ‘He’s thriving as he is. I don’t want to change anything.’
‘But when you go back to work you’ll have to leave a bottle for him. I mean, what about that job Nisha mentioned? You won’t be able to stop the entire shoot to feed him, will you? Wouldn’t it be easier to introduce formula now? Mum says it’s called combi-feeding . . .’
‘Stop, please.’ Fenna doesn’t want to hear another thing about what Marianne thinks. It’s exhausting. ‘Forget it. Moving to Italy can stay as a dream. I’m fine, don’t worry about me.’
She wishes he would wrap his arms around her. Instead, he puts on his shoes and tells her not to wait up. Leaving her alone with the baby, again.