Page 72 of One Step Behind
‘It was too damn hot to work. I sent the boys to the pub and thought I’d walk with you to collect the kids.’
‘I wasn’t going to forget to collect them.’ I mean it as a joke but my tone is snappish and it lands all wrong. ‘Sorry.’
Stuart’s phone buzzes and he frowns for a moment before tucking it back into his pocket. ‘Are you sure everything is OK? What have you been doing today?’
‘Nothing much,’ I reply. I dip my head, hoping to hide the red glowing on my cheeks as I think about following Rachel. ‘Trying to sleep mostly.’
He smiles then, backing out of the room, away from the fight that’s been building between us like the threatening storm. ‘I’m going to grab a shower and change, then we’ll go. Or I can get them and you can stay here and rest if you like.’
‘No, it’s OK. I want to come.’
Stuart reaches for his phone again and heads upstairs.
Thick white clouds cover the sky above us as Stuart and I walk side by side, neither of us talking, but I’mglad he’s with me after what happened yesterday. He hasn’t noticed my grazed knee and I still haven’t mentioned it.
Stuart hasn’t said anything but I know he’s worried about me. Does he think I can’t be trusted to look after Beth and Archie? After what happened this morning, a part of me wonders if he is right to be worried. What was I thinking?
‘Looks like the heatwave is almost over?’ he says, nodding at the sky.
‘I hope so.’
‘Has Beth been OK with you this week?’
‘Yes.’ My reply is quick, automatic. ‘Why?’ What I mean is, why wouldn’t she be OK? She’s spent the week with me, but then I think of the insolence she shows at every little request I make, and I wonder if she’s said something to Stuart.
‘She’s just seemed a bit grumpy lately, that’s all. Do you think it’s hormones?’
‘Probably,’ I reply. Secretly I wonder if that’s true or just an excuse we tell ourselves anytime the children act out. ‘You don’t think this is her reaction to what’s happened to me, do you?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Archie has been an open book. The bad dreams he tells us about at breakfast and then not being able to go to the toilets by himself at school because he’s scared a man is going to be waiting for him inside. Maybe Beth is having her own reaction. It’s not been easy for them.’
The gates of the school come into view as we round the corner. Stuart is just about to reply when I spot Rachel’s husband climbing out of a car. My eyes move past him to Rachel, sitting in the passenger seat,staring ahead and pretending not to see us. My insides knot and I hurry Stuart along as though I can see the scene about to unfold.
‘Can I have a word?’ Rachel’s husband says, striding towards us and only stopping when he’s close enough for me to see the blood vessels in his eyes.
A red heat prickles my skin. I know before he speaks that this is about this morning.
‘Er …’ Stuart glances at me and then to the car towards Rachel. Even from here I can see her cheeks are as red as mine. ‘Maybe this isn’t the best time.’ Typical Stuart, forever trying to placate without even knowing why.
‘I’m Bradley Finley, Rachel’s husband. It’s about your wife, mate.’
‘Excuse me?’ Stuart frowns, turning to me for an answer I don’t want to give. I glance behind me. Most of the parents are walking through the gates for pick-up, but there are still pockets of mums and dads chatting by their cars and looking our way.
‘Look,’ Bradley sighs, smoothing down the fabric of his shirt, which is straining so tight across his body that I can see snatches of his chest and gut through the gaps between the buttons. ‘I appreciate she’s been through a lot,’ he says, looking at me and yet somehow talking about me like I’m not here. ‘But she needs to leave Rachel alone.’
‘I’m standing right here,’ I reply.
‘What?’ Stuart’s mouth drops open. ‘Jenna, what’s going on?’
‘She’s been harassing my wife, mate,’ Bradley replies, pointing a finger at me. ‘Phone calls day and night. Knocking at our door and now following her. It needs to stop or I’m going to the police. OK?’Bradley marches off towards the school without waiting for a reply.
When he’s gone, Stuart turns to look at me, his face taut. ‘What the hell, Jenna?’
‘It’s nothing. A misunderstanding,’ I add, even though it’s not and I know it.
We walk into the school playground and choose a spot away from the groups of waiting parents.
