Читать книгу Bad Sister: ‘Tense, convincing… kept me guessing’ Caz Frear, bestselling author of Sweet Little Lies - Sam Carrington, Sam Carrington - Страница 27

Getting the later train had been a good call. There were no sightings of Jonesy, and more to the point, no further ‘gifts’ from strangers. Connie’s muscles had begun relaxing once she’d got home, showered, had a lasagne microwave meal and sunk into the sofa with a glass of wine.

Her personal mobile jumping into action interrupted her evening. Sighing, she pulled herself up and placed the glass on the coaster. For a moment, she froze. The caller ID showed as Niall. What did he want? Her finger hovered over the accept button, then moved to decline. She hesitated. He’d been a good support during the initial shit-hitting-fan stage of the Hargreaves cock-up. He’d popped over to the psychology block for coffees and chats, been very vocal about how none of it was her fault, how Ricky was an evil manipulator who’d pulled the wool over everyone’s eyes. Then he’d taken her out for a meal – to console her, cheer her up. Help her forget the horrible situation. They’d got on so well, and he had made her cry with laughter. He’d been exactly what she’d needed. And then of course there’d been sex.

There’d been no communication from him since she’d gone off sick last June. She hadn’t told him about her pregnancy, which had been a relief once she’d realised it wasn’t his. But regardless, she’d obviously become too needy in his eyes. So, the question was, why was he ringing her now? Was he the leak – the person who’d spoken to that sneaky reporter, Kelly? The thought made her cheeks burn. The arsehole. She jabbed the ‘accept’ symbol.

‘Yes?’

‘Connie. It’s Niall.’

‘Yep, what can I do for you?’

‘Uh … well, I was just wondering how you were doing, really.’ His delivery was unsure – a slight stammer evident. Connie assumed it was his guilt showing. Or hoped it was.

‘You haven’t wondered enough to call me in, what – the previous twelve months?’ Her voice was clipped. It wasn’t even intentional, in fact until now she hadn’t realised how annoyed she was about his total abandonment.

‘Of course I’ve wondered. I’ve thought about you a lot, but, you know … men aren’t great at this stuff …’

‘This stuff being?’ Why did men think if they pulled the ‘we’re not good at this stuff’ routine that women would roll over and accept it and forgive them their inadequacies?

‘Difficult emotions. It was hard for me to know the best thing to do …’

‘Oh, it was hard for you? I’m so sorry about that, Niall. How selfish of me to have put you through that.’

‘Okay, I can see this was a bad idea, I’ll leave you to it.’

‘Oh, you’re not enjoying the conversation? What a shame, I have so much to fill you in on.’

‘I’m sorry I’ve upset you by calling.’

How did he do that? One sentence, spoken in a quiet whisper oozing sincerity, and already she was regretting her abruptness.

‘No, no.’ Her voice softened. ‘It was brave of you to make the effort, finally.’

‘Can I pop over for a coffee sometime? Catch up properly?’ His tone was suddenly bright.

As much as it irked her to admit it, she would quite like some company. She would also like to do a bit of digging to find out what had gone on in relation to Hargreaves’ escape, and which employee had been responsible for giving her name to the media. To the police too.

‘I’m pretty busy with my consultancy, but I’ll check my diary and give you a text.’

‘Oh, okay.’ The pause lengthened. ‘You won’t text me though, will you?’

Connie sighed. She didn’t want to make this easy for him, why should she? But she found herself caving in on hearing the disappointment in his voice. Perhaps she was more desperate for company than she’d thought.

‘I will. More likely an evening though, I don’t get back from work until six-ish.’

‘Great. Thanks, Connie. I know I don’t deserve another chance, really.’

‘It’s just a drink. Don’t go getting any ideas, it’s not another chance like that.’

‘Loud and clear. I’ll look forward to your text. Night, love.’

He hung up before she could make further comment.

Her moment of relaxation had passed. Her shoulders felt tight, her neck stiff. From one telephone conversation? She rotated her head and massaged her neck. How had this week become so stressful, so quickly? It most definitely wasn’t part of her plan.