Page 43 of The Bordeaux Book Club

It was the end of April and the temperature had risen to a comfortable but warm twenty-six degrees; everything still felt fresh and brand new. She wanted to look forward to the endless evenings, the barbecues and drinks on the terrace she associated with summer. Scarlett had about ten weeks left of school beforeshe’d be on holiday, and Leah had been considering booking something up – a late-deal holiday; probably expensive, but it would do them good to get away, if they could get someone to feed the chickens, collect the eggs and water everything in their absence. But until she knew, until she felt safe, she wasn’t sure she could move on with anything.

Leah already felt as if Nathan suspected something. ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’ he’d said earlier when he’d finished breakfast and grabbed a fresh towel for the shower.

‘I just thought we were weeding this morning?’ she’d said, trying to sound nonchalant. ‘Normally, you don’t get spruced up to crouch in the mud.’

‘It’s a bit… well, I thought we might do it this afternoon?’ he’d said. ‘It’s… the weather’s lovely and I thought I might just, well, see if I can find a few bits for the kitchen this morning. In, um, well, in town. There’s a couple of antique places I’ve had my eye on…’

Leah wondered whether her husband could hear her heart thump as she asked him, ‘That sounds fun. Should I come? It does look lovely out there.’

She’d felt a frisson of hope when he’d paused, looking at her. And for a moment, she’d thought he might say yes. That the trips out would becometheirtrips out – and she wouldn’t have to worry about it all any more.

Then the familiar, ‘Honestly, don’t worry. It’ll probably be pretty boring. You just put your feet up. And no touching those weeds – we’ll do them together afterwards!’

She wanted to say,Actually, I love antiques stores, or,Seriously, why can’t I come?But she knew she had to let him go unquestioned if she wanted to finally play detective and find out what was up.

Since her meeting with Grace a week ago, she’d hoped that her husband’s strange and sudden exits might simply stop.That she could laugh about them and say,I must have been imagining it!but Nathan had continued to slip out under various excuses. Occasionally, she’d see him texting furiously on his phone beforehand.

Of course, it wasn’t as if he’d never left the house before all this started. He’d often used to shoot out to the bricolage for something else they’d needed and overlooked (they weren’t natural gardeners, it had to be said). She didn’t keep him prisoner or want to be glued to his side at all times. But something was different when it came to these disappearances and she had to know what it was.

Scarlett had left for school an hour ago; it was still early. But Grace had said ‘anytime’, hadn’t she? So as soon as the water started to run, Leah had dialled her friend.

‘OK,’ she said now. ‘Keep your mobile by your side and I’ll call you as soon as I can.’

‘Will do, captain!’ Grace quipped. ‘How exciting!’

‘Grace!’ she said, careful to keep her voice low. ‘It’s not exciting for me! It’s… well, I feel awful about the whole thing.’

‘Of course you do, of course you do,’ Grace said, her voice much more sober. ‘I just… I suppose it’s thrilling to follow someone, isn’t it? And it’ll be nice for you to find out the truth.’

‘I…’

‘I’m sure it will all be perfectly innocent,’ Grace said firmly.

‘Well, I hope so,’ Leah said. ‘I guess we’re going to find out.’

‘Ooh. I’ll get my hat. Great excuse to wear it!’

Ten minutes later, Leah was in the Clio, wondering how she’d be able to follow Nathan without him seeing her in the rear-view mirror. He’d left the drive and turned left moments before. As she bumped onto the road, she saw him disappear around the corner.

It was half past eight and traffic was building up; she was grateful for the two cars that stood between her and theirScenic ahead. Hopefully, it would be enough. If not, she’d just tell Nathan that she’d raced after him for some spurious reason. To remind him about something. She wracked her brain desperately. She really should have got her ducks in a row before setting off.

She’d just have to be careful, she thought, five minutes later after the two cars she’d kept between them turned off and she watched him turn decisively left, heading towards the centre. He slowed, and she hung back for a moment, trying to move quickly enough to avoid having the driver behind sound his horn, but without catching Nathan up or – even worse – having to pass him.

At the turn, he signalled again then out of nowhere, slid into a space. She quickly turned right into a little side road as he straightened up, and managed to wedge the Clio between a badly parked people carrier and a motorbike which took up a disproportionate amount of space. She could still just about see him through the window and held her breath as she watched him looking around for a meter to pay for his parking. She prayed he didn’t make use of the one close to her turning. But luckily, he found another and began to type his information in on the electronic screen.

Then, glancing around almost furtively, he began to walk down the street. She was going to lose him! She slipped out of the Clio, feeling like a criminal already for failing to pay for a ticket. But there was no time. Hopefully, she’d get away with it just this once.

She walked a distance behind him, on the opposite side, making sure to stop whenever he did and annoying a couple of pedestrians who almost bumped into her when she halted abruptly, then slipped into the crowd on the pavement, keeping to the side furthest from the edge of the roadway where she hoped he wouldn’t spot her.

It didn’t take long for her spying mission to come to its conclusion. He turned into a café and stood, nonchalantly, in the queue, checking his phone and waiting to be served.

A café! She didn’t know whether this was a good sign or a bad one. It could be a quick espresso before going to the antiques stores he’d mentioned. It could be the meeting point for an illicit liaison. Either way, he’d be there for at least ten minutes, she reasoned, watching the person in front of him point at the menu impatiently. She turned and rushed back to her car – thankfully un-ticketed – slipped back into the driver’s side and called Grace.

‘Grace,’ she hissed, although really, why was she whispering? It wasn’t as if Nathan could hear her. It just felt somehow to suit the mood. ‘He’s in a café, on Cr Victor Hugo. He’ll probably be there for a bit.’ She very nearly said ‘over’ but stopped herself just in time.

‘Is he… is anyone with him?’

‘No, thank God! He’s on his own. Shall I come and pick you up?’

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