That had been two weeks and five days ago. The text came three days after she’d seen Bella at the farm. A simple missive but enough to trigger what Gina imagined a cardiac arrest to be like.
She’d been checking Jimmy’s phone and emails ever since she’d been alerted to the threat, and because he trusted her far more than she trusted him, she had access to his laptop and phone. Gina was nothing if not rigorous and methodical in her snooping which she carried out when Jimmy was in the bath. He loved a good soak did Jimmy.
So, while he and Alexa whiled away an hour, Gina snooped and like every stupid person gone before, was ridiculously unprepared for the moment they actually found something earth shatteringly, chest crushingly, incriminating.
Hi, I’m back and tentatively wondering if you want to pick up where we left off. Still up for it if you are. No pressure. I’m back in Blighty for the foreseeable. You know where I am. Ciao for now ;)
Hi, I was wondering if I’d hear from you. Welcome back and yes, I’ll come over as soon as I can get away. Sooner the better. I’ll be in touch soon. J
And there it was. Proof she hadn’t imagined it. Proof that he’d been biding his time for over a year. Proof that Gina had been nothing more than a convenient stop-gap and source of sex and entertainment while he waited for his lover to return.
What a mug she’d been.The sooner the better.Christ, he was gagging for it and yes, her husband knew where Bella was all right… two point seven miles up the road. Ready and willing to show him what he’d been missing.
As she’d sat there on the swivel stool, staring at the phone which lay on the kitchen island, Gina swooned. The floor flipped, the edges of the room blurred, and invisible hands gripped her throat preventing her from breathing. Cold dread engulfed her body and in the midst of pseudo heart failure, all she could hear was Jimmy singing in the bath.
By the time he wandered back into the kitchen, having learnt how to live with the fear and knowing how to mask the stain it left behind, Gina faced his deceit head on, the only way she knew how. With more of her own.
Slipping his phone into her pocket, out of sight until she could stuff it back down the side of the sofa cushion where she’d found it, Gina sucked in air and steadied her trembling body.
‘You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. You haven’t, have you?’ Jimmy pulled his robe tighter around his body and feigned a terrified look, then made his way to the fridge.
‘No, course not. I think I’m getting a migraine and came over a bit queasy, in fact my period’s due, so it’ll be that. I think I’ll have an early night.’ Gina slid off the stool and tested her legs. Yes, they still held her up.
Jimmy prattled on. ‘So, you won’t fancy a beer… shall I make you a brew?’
‘No, no it’s fine.’ Gina spoke to his back as he grabbed a mug, and flicked on the kettle, her voice trailing off as she threw his phone onto the couch then made her way towards the stairs, not wanting to look at his face or hear his voice for a moment longer than necessary.
‘You go to bed, love and I’ll bring one up, and some toast to settle your stomach… take a paracetamol, there’s some in the cabinet in the bathroom.’
She heard the fridge door open and the sounds of rummaging as he raided the shelves for his obligatory pre-bed snack. He was totally oblivious to his wife’s true state of distress as she wearily climbed the stairs.
That night Gina didn’t look in on Max and Mimi or remove her make-up and brush her teeth. Instead she dragged off her jeans and climbed straight into bed not caring if her bra was uncomfortable and her T-shirt would make her hot. She just wanted to sleep. Close her eyes and then maybe in the morning it would all be…
Don’t be so ridiculous. It’s not a dream and it won’t all be better after a big sleep. You’re not a child so face facts. It’s all going wrong, and you know what? It’s going to get a whole lot worse.
CHAPTERTWENTY-SIX
The stompingof Babs in her slipper-clad feet as they made their way back down the stairs forced Gina out of her maudlin state. She plastered another fake smile on her face, however, she’d forgotten that today’s masterclass in ‘let’s pretend’ wasn’t for her distracted, randy husband’s sake. She had a rapt audience and, as always, Babs didn’t miss a trick.
As she wiggled onto the spinney-stools, as she called them, and rested hervery weary feet, Babs gave Gina one of her looks and wasted no time in explaining it.
‘So, what’s up with my Skinny Minny? I can tell something’s bothering you and if I’m not mistaken you’ve been crying…’ Babs then cast her eyes downwards as if giving Gina time to think, taking the pressure off while she busied herself with the wallpaper and fabric swatches scattered across the island.
Gina scrabbled for something to say, anything but the truth.
‘Ooh I like this one, it’s got sparkles. What’s it for?’ Babs held up a square of wallpaper, flock embossed with gold.
Glad of the momentary diversion, Gina explained. ‘I’ve been asked to prepare a mood board for my magazine editor. She has a friend in London who wants her whole house redecorating and she put my name forward, but I’m not sure if I want the commission, even if I get it.’
A half-truth would have to do because Gina had already decided she wouldn’t take the job. Would not be going to London on the train and staying overnight or meeting the client for dinner. In fact, the whole lot was going straight in the bin as soon as Babs went home. She hadn’t even told Jimmy about it because he’d be mega enthusiastic and shuffle her out the door like a shot so he could have a night with shag-bag Bella. She wasn’t stupid. Well, she was, but not a total pushover.
Babs helped herself to a chocolate covered marshmallow and began to unwrap the foil, then gave Gina a bemused look. ‘Why on earth not, love? It’d be lovely to get out and about, especially a trip down to London. And I thought you were looking for a bit of part-time work when Mimi starts nursery. This might be perfect for you.’
Gina sucked in a deep breath and forced down the swell of panic that the mere thought of leaving the house, the village, Jimmy, the kids, brought on. However, in a rare moment of clarity, or perhaps for want of a better excuse, she made a confession to the only person who she thought would understand.
‘Yes I was… but I don’t think I’m ready, you know to get a job and face people and I’d worry about germs and being around strangers, so I think I’m going to email her and tell her to find someone else…
‘… and anyway, why do I have to go to work? Jimmy said I don’t. Not yet, so there’s no rush, and these are just a bloody waste of time…’ And before she could stop her hands from scraping together the swatches, or the tears and the sob that escaped as she strode over to the bin and stamped on the pedal, she’d stuffed them all inside. Seconds later she was back at her spinney-stool.
