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‘He’ll be fine. We need his skills, and we need them tomorrow, he can enjoy being warm for once.’
42
KATIE WAS ONthe phone to her mother when Max arrived home a few hours later, to Nutmeg’s total delight. She’d obviously imparted the news of her pregnancy, and there was clearly much excitement at the other end of the phone. She smiled wanly, her face pale as Max handed her a cup of herbal tea, which she took and set on the side, but shook her head when he asked if she wanted any food.
Max quickly made some cheese on toast, to go with his tea. He was hungry but had no interest in cooking something significant, and clearly his wife wasn’t hungry, her pale blotchy face giving some indication of the nausea she was feeling.
‘Hey, how are you?’ said Max, chewing his cheese on toast, as Katie placed her phone on the side.
‘Tired, and constantly feeling nauseous,’ she said, shaking her head but stroking Nutmeg’s ears. Nutmeg clearly wasn’t interested, giving all her rapt attention to Max as he ate.
‘Sorry, is there anything I can do?’ he said, unsure what else he could say.
‘Why are you apologising?’ She looked up from Nutmeg, and her beautiful eyes bored into him with an unusual intensity.
‘Because …’ He paused, unable to find the words.
‘Maybe because you have a job that means you’re rarely at home? Because I’m stuck here, feeling sick and tired, and lonelyand wrung out that my husband always puts his work first?’ Katie’s eyes softened, and she reached out and touched Max’s cheek.
‘Aye, all of that. I’m really sorry. I want to be here, but …’ Max just couldn’t find the words, and he just sat there, mid-sentence, his mouth gaping. The silence in the room was thick and awkward. He looked at his wife, taking in her choppy, dirty-blonde hair and kind smile, and he was gripped with a sudden, almost overwhelming love for her.
‘Max. I understand. I realise how much your job means, and I know I can’t ask you not to go to work. As much as anything, we’ll need the money once I’m on maternity leave. I have a doctor’s appointment in three days, please tell me you’ll be able to come?’ Her eyes were wide and almost pleading.
‘Aye, I’ll come.’ Max curled his fingers around Katie’s, lifted her hand and kissed it, gently.
‘Promise?’
‘I promise. I’ll do everything I can to be there, Katie.’ Max smiled, but his insides were churning at the prospect of letting her down.
‘When are you working tomorrow?’
‘Earlyish,’ said Max.
‘How early?’
‘Pretty early. It’s a big job,’ he said, shrugging.
‘They’re all big jobs, Max. That’s always the problem. I take it a long day in store?’ She pulled her hand away from Max’s, and rubbed at the bridge of her nose.
‘Probably, we’re getting Frankie out of jail to a debrief site.’
‘But you’ll be at the doctor’s appointment, yes?’
‘I promise.’ Max stroked her hair.
‘Good. Give us a bite on your cheese on toast, then,’ she said, her smile wide and genuine, and the glint returning to her tired eyes.
Max offered the plate and she took one of the slices and bit into it, chewing with relish. Within about thirty seconds, the colour drained from her face, and she stopped chewing. She handed the plate back.
‘I hate you for making me pregnant, you bastard,’ she said, leaning against his shoulder, a tear appearing in her eye.
‘Sorry.’
‘You should be. You made me hate cheese.’
43
KYLE ELLIS, ORmore accurately, as the passport in his pocket declared, Davide Arbon was feeling mildly buzzed, most likely because of the decent bottle of red wine he’d consumed in the Newcastle restaurant a short while ago. He threw the taxi driver a twenty-pound note and told him to keep the change, and climbed out close to the hotel in the flat and open area close to the ferry port by the Royal Quays outlet centre. He zipped up his coat and flicked up his collar against the cold evening air. He wasn’t staying at the hotel, as experience had taught him that it was a good idea to always get dropped off away from your actual destination. There was hardly any traffic or pedestrians about, being as it was almost midnight as he set off, burping and grimacing at the stale garlic aftertaste in his mouth. He couldn’t wait to be back in a country with decent cuisine … as always, his visits to the UK reminded him of how godawful the food was.
