‘Yep. You cow,’ she says and I hear the grin in her voice. ‘I thought I’d done something to upset you.’
I draw in a long breath before I answer. ‘Don’t be daft. You could never upset me. It’s just been a tough week.’
‘A&E isn’t the same without you. Are you missing us yet?’
The question throws me. A part of me craves being in the thick of an emergency, to be wholly and completely immersed in my job, but I have loved spending more time with Beth and Archie, and it’s a relief to not feel torn in two by the guilt of trying to work and take care of the kids.
Then I remember the look of pity on Nancy’s face when she spoke to me. ‘Are you aware that your colleagues are concerned about you?’ I feel angry every time I think about it.
‘Jenna?’ Diya prompts.
‘Sorry. I miss it a bit, I guess,’ I say in the end. ‘I miss you more.’
‘Ah, well, it’s funny you should say that because I’m phoning to remind you that it’s my birthday night out tonight. Not that I think for one second that you’ve forgotten.’
‘Of course not,’ I lie, scrunching my eyes shut. ‘And Happy Birthday.’
‘Thanks. So you’ll come?’
It’s the surprise in her voice, the unexpected hope, that makes me say yes.
‘Great. We’re meeting at The King’s Arms at seven thirty,’ she says.
‘I’ll see you there.’
We hang up and I collapse against the counter wondering how I’ll make it out tonight.
By the time Stuart and the kids traipse through the door after lunch I’m on coffee number three and a headache is hammering in my temples.
‘Hey, there you are,’ I say, scooping Archie into my arms. ‘Have a good time?’
‘Yeah. Dad took us for fish and chips after swimming and a seagull stole some of Beth’s battered sausage.’
‘Oh no.’ I look to Beth.
‘I didn’t want it anyway,’ she shrugs.
‘How was swimming?’ I ask her.
‘Fine. Can I watch something?’
‘Sure,’ I nod. ‘Just for an hour, OK? Then we’ll do something together.’
Beth rolls her eyes but says nothing as she drops a damp swim bag on the floor and throws herself on to the sofa.
Archie wriggles out of my arms and races up to his bedroom. The door closes and I hear the thud of him jumping across the floor, fighting aliens on his planet Bong no doubt.
‘Feeling better?’ Stuart eyes me with concern.
‘Much better,’ I lie, wishing it was true. I’m quite sure I look at my absolute worst right now, and the polar opposite to Stuart who is wearing a dark-red t-shirt that hangs perfectly on his athletic frame.
The words, the truth about what I saw in the garden, swirl in my head and form in my throat. I wait for them to spill out, blood from a wound, but they don’t. I’m not even sure what I saw any more.
‘It’s Diya’s birthday drinks tonight,’ I say as Stuart pours himself a glass of water.
‘Are you going?’ he asks without turning around.
‘Is that a problem?’