Читать книгу Between You and Me: The bestselling psychological thriller with a twist you won’t see coming - Lisa Hall - Страница 18

Chapter Ten

CHARLIE

The golf day goes well, and Mr Pavlenco and his team are happy when we all head back towards the clubhouse at the end of the day. I feel like the weight on my shoulders has lifted briefly, now that I know Pavlenco is happier. Mr Pavlenco and his team head through to the bar and I take the opportunity to call Sal. The phone is answered immediately, so I relax and find myself able to enjoy a meal and a few drinks with the Otex team before catching a cab home. The day has been a small respite in the relentless torrent of paperwork and phone calls this demanding case has generated, and although I am feeling a little better about the potential outcome of the deal, I am still aware that there is a lot of work ahead of me if I’m going to pull this off successfully.

As I walk in the door, I catch sight of Sal snoozing on the sofa – there is no sign of Maggie, and as it’s past 8pm I guess Sal has already put her to bed.

‘Sal, wake up.’ I lean over and hiss quietly, shaking Sal by the shoulder.

‘Huh? Oh, Charlie, you’re home.’ Sal smiles up at me groggily and struggles into a sitting position, dark curls skewed at crazy angles. ‘How did it go?’

‘Excellent. The team at Otex are happy that we’re doing what we can to make sure the merger goes ahead as smoothly as possible, so fingers crossed all good. What did you do today? You seem exhausted.’ A tiny niggle of irritation burrows away at me, at the idea of Sal snoozing away on the sofa while I’m out slogging my guts out, schmoozing clients and bowing to their every whim.

‘Oh, nothing much. It must be the heat, takes it out of me.’ Sal yawns, stretching long fingers out in an arch. It is still ridiculously hot and muggy outside. ‘We just stayed at home, had a spot of lunch, nothing exciting.’

‘Sounds like you had a good day. And Maggie? She’s in bed?’

‘Yep, she was exhausted. I think the heat is a little too much for her, too, poor thing. I just hope the weather breaks before she starts school. It’ll be awful for the little ones to have to go to school in this heat.’

‘I’m sure it will – this is England not Africa! We need to enjoy it while it lasts. Come on. Let’s sit out on the patio and open a cold bottle of wine, pretend we’re enjoying this heatwave.’ I pull Sal up from the couch and we go through to the kitchen to hunt out wine glasses. I grab the cold bottle of wine from the fridge and a tub of green olives and we head out onto the patio, the early evening air still warm and fragrant with the jasmine that curls upwards from the pots next to the back door.

Maggie’s toys still litter the garden, where she was obviously playing with them today. Dollies with all their clothes piled up in a heap next to them lie alongside a bucket and spade, a football and a skipping rope. A pair of Maggie’s pink sandals lie next to the sandpit, while a stuffed toy lies face down in the sand, and Maggie’s cardigan hangs over the swing frame. I feel what was left of my good mood start to slip – how difficult is it for Sal to make sure the garden is tidy at the end of the day? I’ve spent all week working my arse off at the office, early starts and working all the hours God sends, while Sal does, literally, nothing. It’s not like there’s a huge amount to do, just put the toys back in the toy box, and make sure that shoes and cardigans are put away. Sal catches sight of the look on my face and scurries over to the sandpit and starts to pick up the mess that lies scattered over the garden. This infuriates me even more – the scurrying about, like I’m some irrational clean freak who flips out over mess; like I’m someone to be feared. I just want a clean and tidy house – surely that’s not unreasonable?

Sal scrabbles to pick up the toys from the sandpit, watching me warily. ‘I’m sorry, Charlie, I meant to get this all sorted before you got home, but I was just so tired and I thought I’d sit down for just a few minutes and … well, I fell asleep.’

Anger explodes out of me before I can stop it, like a tornado ripping along, tearing trees up by their roots. ‘For God’s sake, Sal, it’s not like it’s a difficult job, is it? To keep the bloody garden tidy? Despite what you might think, I wasn’t just off having a lovely time today; it was work, and the last thing I want to come home to is a total shit-hole. Do you understand?’ I glare at Sal, my good mood evaporated completely by the crap I have come home to. When will Sal ever learn? Marriage is about equality – both sides taking equal amounts of responsibility – not about one person doing all the work and making all the effort while the other feeds off them.

‘Yes, Charlie, I understand.’

‘Good.’ I stride across the garden and grip Sal’s jaw in my hands. ‘I’m going to bed now. You can stay out here and tidy all this crap up. I want it sorted before you come up. I don’t work hard all day long, even on the bloody weekend, just so you can leave shit everywhere. Right?’ I release Sal, and as I sweep past the patio table on my way up to bed my hand knocks the wine bottle off-centre, causing it to crash onto the stones below, taking the wine glasses with it. I don’t glance back as I hear the glass shatter across the paving slabs. It serves Sal right for ruining yet another evening.