Page 28 of One Snowy Day
‘Can I ask you something? How did you discover where he stayed last night?’ A vision of Monica following him, then sitting outside her house in the cold made her wince.
‘I put an AirTag in his car. I realise that makes me sound crazy.’
Georgie put her hands up. ‘I’m not judging. Clearly, I’ve done a crazy thing or two when it comes to Flynn too.’
Monica pre-empted her next question. ‘And then I heard him on the phone this morning, saying he’d left his wallet. He’d told me he lived in Weirbridge when he was married, so I put two and two together and googled you. That’s how I found the salon.’
‘If you ever leave the solar panels game, you’d have a great future as a private investigator.’
Monica reacted with a rueful smile. ‘Going by the reason I’m here, I’m probably way too gullible.’
Georgie wasn’t an advocate of violence under any circumstances, but right now, she wanted to punch her ex-husband right in the face.
‘Monica, I’m sorry. All I can promise is that now that I know about you, I won’t be seeing him again. At least, not in that way. We share a daughter, but from now on, that’s it. What you do with that news is up to you, but if you want my opinion, you seem really nice. He doesn’t deserve you.’
Monica took that in, then reached for her bag, which was sitting on the chair next to her. ‘Thank you. And, Georgie, please don’t tell him about this. I don’t want him to know I was here.’
‘I won’t. Good luck with…’ She wasn’t sure how to finish that sentence, so she went with, ‘…Whatever you decide.’
Hopefully that decision would involve Flynn Dern being poked by a large bargepole.
When she was gone, Georgie took a sip of her coffee, as she stared straight ahead, trying to process the conversation.
Flynn Tosser. Dern. What a cheek that man had.
And while they were very definitely divorced, and he was perfectly entitled to do what he wanted, to shag his way around Scotland if he cared to, he couldn’t do it while trying to win her back. Nor could he feed her bullshit lines, like the crap he’d come out with this morning when he’d lied to her about being the only one for him. Urgh. Every thought she’d had just a couple of hours before about reuniting and playing happy families again was torched by a flame thrower of fury that made her teeth clench. What. An. Absolute. Tosser. How dare he play that poor woman? How dare he play her? How dare he mess with Kayleigh’s world?
As if telepathy sent a bat signal from her thoughts, her phone burst into life and Kayleigh’s picture flashed up on the screen.
Georgie settled herself, then answered with a breezy, ‘Hey lovely, how’s your day going? Has Uncle Grant arrived yet?’
‘Yes, but he’s up in your wardrobe searching for a nude heel. Don’t ask.’
Despite the circumstances of her current shit show, that made Georgie smile, until Kayleigh wiped the grin right off her face.
‘Dad is here too, though. He’s asking when you’ll be home. And, Mum, you know how Gran invited him to the party…?’
Georgie had to work hard to keep her voice steady. ‘Yes, but he can’t make it, sweetheart. He already told me that he’s got a work thing tonight.’ A work thing. Or, to be more specific, shagging a work colleague.
‘Nope, apparently his plans have changed and he’s going to come. He’s got his best jeans on, so he’s ready to party. It’s, like, so embarrassing but kind of cute.’
Georgie was finding out that it was actually possible to speak while your face was on fire and your teeth were still clenched. But she wasn’t going to be the one to let their daughter know what a lying arse he was. ‘Smashing. You can tell Dad I’m on my way and I’ll see him and his party jeans when I get there.’
She hung up, paid Hugo for the coffees and picked three large slices of Victoria sponge to go. One for her. One for Kayleigh. One for Grant.
Her former husband was about to get what he deserved. And it wasn’t cake.
15
ALYSSA
‘All right, girls?’ their grandad had greeted them, as he’d nipped into the kitchen after them when they got back from the interview.
‘Everything is good, Grandad.’
Alyssa had shot Ginny a warning glance, reminding her that this wasn’t the time to tell Hugo that his job was at risk – not until she’d tried everything she could think of to fix this.
‘My interview went well, so hopefully they’ll let me know soon.’
