Читать книгу My Husband’s Lies: An unputdownable read, perfect for book group reading - Caroline England, Caroline England - Страница 22

Dan

Maya pops her head around Dan’s office door.

‘Wasn’t sure if you were still on the phone. Is Geri OK? She sounded a bit anxious when she called earlier—’

Dan smooths his soft beard and shakes himself back to Maya’s voice. Geri is nearly eight months pregnant and every unexpected call makes his heart lurch and race with anxiety. He wouldn’t dream of telling anyone, not even Maya. They would think he was stupid, a pathetic weak fool. ‘Bloody men!’ he hears Jen Kenning laugh. ‘They’re not the ones who have to scream, puff and push, never mind dealing with the bloody haemorrhoids.’ Yet that’s the problem. If he was the one puffing and pushing, he could deal with it head-on. It’s being a helpless onlooker which scares him. ‘Yes, she’s fine thanks,’ he replies automatically, but Maya still hovers, a frown on her small forehead. ‘Well, she had a bit of a fright this morning,’ he explains. ‘The baby hadn’t moved for a while …’ The thought of losing the baby almost paralyses him. He doesn’t really want to talk about it, but knows Maya has his best interests at heart. He tries for a smile, taking in her fringe, which has changed colour since yesterday. ‘But it’s fine. By the time I’d finished with the Hendersons and phoned her back, she said the baby was doing somersaults. So all’s good now.’

Maya raises her eyebrows. ‘Sounds like a lazy boy.’ She hands him the second post. ‘There’s the signed inventory for the Oak House penthouse.’ She puts her hand on a hip. ‘I wouldn’t mind that swanky new furniture. But then again, a cigarette burn or a coffee stain …’ She grins. ‘Then there’s chewing gum, tomato ketchup, curry, hair dye. Ouch! Can you imagine the bill?’

Dan feels a prickling on his spine. ‘Oh, it’s gone then? Someone has signed up?’

‘Yeah, your dreamy chiselled friend.’ She looks for a moment at his face. ‘I assumed you knew. He signed up last week, I think. Andrew sorted it out.’

‘Oh, right. Great.’ He picks up his mug. ‘I’m parched. I don’t suppose there’s a coffee going?’

When Maya leaves the room, he sits back in his chair and breathes, feeling surprise, and if he’s honest, slight pique. Seb Taylor hasn’t been in touch, but then again, why would he? They’re not really friends. He’s the younger brother of a friend; just an acquaintance. Yet after the viewing they drove back to Chorlton Green. When they arrived, he could see Geri was dead beat, but she made pasta, then sat on the sofa in her fleecy pyjamas and chatted amiably with Seb for more than an hour.

Leaning forward, he doodles, picturing the scene. He made up the fire, then sat opposite them in the armchair and watched, mesmerised by their striking and contrasting beauty: Geri, her face plump and rounded, her black skin and dark eyes glowing and warm, against Seb’s. His face so sculpted, his nose straight and sharp, his eyes piercing and blue. The conversation was fascinating too. Geri asked the questions he wouldn’t have broached, and though Seb’s face was thoughtful, he replied easily. Information about his life, a world away from theirs. The ins and outs of modelling, the sort of money he earned, the famous people he’d met or worked with. And about Claudia, also a model, how they had loved and lived and how it stopped, suddenly.

‘I just fell out of love,’ he said with a shrug. ‘I couldn’t get enough of her one day, then the next it just ended, like I was living with a stranger.’

The fire had sizzled and snapped, the conversation moved on, eventually to sport and swimming came up.

‘Dan likes to swim,’ Geri said. ‘You should see him on holiday in his budgie smugglers. Races of course. Every blooming stroke, even butterfly. He always has to win.’

‘That’s just the toddlers pool,’ he quipped. ‘Though, seriously, there’d be no chance of beating Sebastian Taylor. A county champion, Geri. He could beat everyone. Though if it was squash or tennis, I might be in with a shot …’

‘Sunday morning, then,’ Geri replied, smiling. ‘We can sign Seb in at David Lloyd as a guest. I can go swimming, at a gentle speed for once, you two can play squash and then we can all meet in the cafe for a bite of lunch. The winner pays!’

‘You’re on,’ Seb replied, the grin back on his face. Then Geri said she was exhausted and had to go to bed. Seb ordered a taxi and they hugged at the door. An easy friendly hug, a pat on the back, see you on Sunday. Relaxed and so natural, the whole evening had felt good, really good.

The aroma of coffee alerts him to Maya’s presence at his desk. He lifts his head to her questioning dark gaze, wondering if he has a smudge of ink on his nose, but she simply asks for the last tape so she can push on with the typing in time for the post.

Not friends, not really, he’s thinking. Seb sent him a text the next evening. ‘Sorry, squash another time,’ it read. He hasn’t been in touch since.

Dan looks at his watch; the second hand jerks, much like his heart. He put on his bright confident voice when he phoned Geri back. ‘A baby acrobat, eh? Sounds like my boy! Everything is fine, Geri. No need for you to worry.’

But still, better safe than sorry, and the midwife said to call any time.

He picks up his mobile and scrolls down the contacts. The midwife’s voicemail message kicks in, so he leaves a reply. ‘Hi, it’s Dan Maloney from Chorlton Green. Everything’s fine with Geri and the baby, but could you pop by this evening? Just tell Geri you were passing? A little reassurance would be great.’

Dan washes the dinner dishes absently, then takes the coffees through to Geri. She’s curled on the sofa, her eyes on the television screen.

‘Come on, Dan, you’re missing it.’

She turns to him with an amused smile on her face; it’s a comedy they both like, and he sinks down next to her, aware of sounds and seeing colours, but his ears tuned for the doorbell. Trying not to glance at his watch, one programme merges into the next.

The bell finally rings at eight-thirty. A plump midwife bustles in with the cold February wind. She’s called Bernadette; she’s visited before. Looking at Geri, she crinkles her freckled nose. ‘I could say I was just passing, but that wouldn’t wash, would it?’