Читать книгу Apple of My Eye: The gripping psychological thriller from the USA Today bestseller - Claire Allan, Claire Allan - Страница 19

I press the call button and wait for him to answer. It doesn’t take long. He sounds concerned, or is it guilty? I want to scream at him. I wish he was here so I could do just that.

‘You have to know I have nothing to do with any of this,’ he says. ‘I’ve no idea what that note is about. I swear, Eli, I’m not cheating. I’ve never cheated. You know that. This is someone trying to mess with us.’

I’m almost too tired to speak. ‘Martin, I think we need to talk about it. I think you need to come home. Please, come home.’

He doesn’t hesitate. ‘I’ll book flights as soon as we’re done talking. Get back as soon as I can. I swear, Eli, you have to believe me.’

I imagine he wants me to say that I do believe him. That’s it’s all laughable that my husband would ever cheat, and any time before the last seven months I would probably have said so. But things are different now. I’m different.

‘Look, I’m really tired. Just get home. We’ll talk about it then.’

‘Okay,’ he says. He sounds subdued. Then again, he would be, if he’d been caught. ‘I love you, Eliana,’ he says.

I tell him I love him, too, and saying the words almost breaks me. Might I have to stop loving him? I can’t even think of that.

*

‘You’re not seriously going to work today?’ My mother fusses around me, trying to persuade me just to eat something. So far, I’ve refused a cooked breakfast, porridge and a croissant. She’s now making some toast, which she’s told me I must eat at least half a slice of, dry if necessary.

‘Yes, Mum, I’m seriously going to work. I have to go to work. I don’t work somewhere where they can just call in someone else at half an hour’s notice.’

‘But don’t they have bank nurses they can call in?’

I shake my head. While of course they do, it’d be an increased cost to our already stretched budget and we’ve one patient at least on the ward who’s unlikely to make it through the day. I’ve been caring for him since his admission ten days before and I don’t want to cause a big upheaval for his family by suddenly adding someone new to the equation.

‘I’ll be fine. If it’s quiet, I’ll even grab an hour’s rest in the on-call room. The other staff will look after me.’

I take a bite out of the slice of toast she hands me as if to make a point. The truth is, I desperately want to go back to bed and wake up to find Martin home so we can talk. He’s texted to say he’s secured a flight into Belfast shortly after lunch. He should be home before dinner. He emphasised his innocence. Told me he loved me. I’d replied with a ‘See you then.’ I couldn’t bring myself to type more.

My mother doesn’t look happy at my decision. Nor is she happy that Martin isn’t already at our front door.

‘Surely there’s an earlier flight than lunchtime?’ she says before apologising. ‘Sorry, Eli, me getting cross won’t help. I just worry about you. I worry about you both. This is very upsetting.’

She says it like it should be news to me, even though I’m painfully aware of just how upsetting it is.

‘He’ll be here soon enough,’ I tell her. ‘I’ll be at work anyway.’

‘I can’t say I approve, but you always were a stubborn one, Eliana Johnston.’

‘Hughes,’ I remind her. ‘Eliana Hughes.’

‘You’ll always be Eliana Johnston to me, my darling,’ she says.

She tells me she’ll stay, not go back to Belfast. She’ll deal with the SOCO people. I tell her to call the hospice directly if the police need more information. I’ll call back as soon as I get a minute.

‘I’ll call a glazier and get someone out to fix that window,’ she says. ‘It shouldn’t be too expensive. You don’t want to lose your good record with your insurance company.’

Ever practical, my mother. And good in a crisis – much better than I am, anyway.

My head is already thumping when I reach work. I’m rubbing my temples when Rachel walks into the nurses’ station and sits down beside me.

‘Tough night?’ she asks.

‘You’ve no idea. We had someone peg a rock through the window.’

Her eyes widen.

‘Seriously? At your house? Jesus, Eli, are you okay?’

I know I can tell Rachel everything if I want to. All about the rock, and the note and what the note said. She’ll be there for me. But for some reason I can’t face it. Not today. Maybe it’s just that I don’t want her looking at me with her sad eyes and inwardly welcoming me to her ditched wives’ club. Martin isn’t like her ex. Martin and I aren’t like they were.

So I nod. ‘I am, apart from this headache. But I’ll take a few paracetamol and get on with things. Can you give me fifteen minutes to pull myself together and I’ll get stuck in? Mr Connors, is he still …?’

‘With us? Yes, but his resps are slowing. The family are here. I think we need to make sure we’ve a nurse near them at all times. I sense of a bit of tension between two of the sons.’

Losing a parent is always tough, and we’re used to seeing emotions overspill, so I nod to Rachel. ‘I’ll keep a special eye.’

‘That’d be good,’ she says as I fish in my bag and pull out a packet of paracetamol. ‘Eli,’ she says as she makes to leave. ‘Are you sure it’s just a headache? I mean, with the stress and all? Do you want me to check your blood pressure? Have you any swelling in your feet or fingers?’

‘Rachel, I love you but it’s just a headache and I’m going to say this as nicely as I can. Can you stop fussing around me? I’ve had enough fuss for one day from my mother.’

I’m snappy and I can hear it in my voice. I don’t like it.

Rachel looks put out. She mutters something about only wanting to help and says she’ll leave me to it before turning on her heel and leaving. I swear under my breath and wish I’d started the whole day differently.

I fill a glass with water and take my tablets. Decide I need to get on with my work, where I’ll probably watch someone else die. That’ll be the least distressing part of my day.