Читать книгу Envy - Amanda Robson, Amanda Robson - Страница 25

Sunday evening. I pull the car into our drive. Lights smoulder down from the top of the house. I have flowers for you, Faye, and a soft toy each for the girls.

I let myself in and switch on the light. The hallway is filled with its usual clutter. The buggy. A row of shoes. A pile of old clothes to take to the charity shop. This evening the house is eerily quiet. Silence presses against me and the vision I had of you rushing to greet me, smothering me with kisses, echoes towards me making me feel sad.

Perhaps you are having difficulty settling our offspring. I leave my gifts on the dining table and slowly, quietly, move through our living area, and tiptoe up the stairs. Past Tamsin’s bedroom, past Georgia’s nursery. The lights are dim. I hear the repetitive sound of their gentle breathing. Into our master bedroom with its state-of-the-art bathroom, only recently installed, which I am so pleased to have been able to afford. More dim light. This time I hear electronic music. Pounding and trance-like. You are sitting, back arched, cross-legged on your exercise mat, arms stretched out like a ballet dancer. Not that I am an expert at this, but it’s Pilates I guess.

As soon as you see me, you snap the music off and slowly unwrap your body.

‘The wanderer returns,’ you say as you stand up.

‘Not a very exciting wander, I can assure you.’

‘It must have been much more exciting than staying at home,’ you say with a grimace.

‘Haven’t you had fun then?’

‘Depends what you call fun.’

‘Well I don’t call sleeping through lectures about computer algorithms fun.’

‘And I don’t rate being cold-shouldered by a sanctimonious prick who owns his own modelling agency.’

Your eyes are wide and glistening with tears. I take you in my arms and pull you against me. You clamp against my chest as if the world is about to end.

‘I ran into Jonah at the party,’ you murmur between sobs.