Robert will be home soon. I sashay up the stairs, revelling in what I’m about to do next. Luxuriating in the knowledge that this will most definitely throw the cat amongst the pigeons.
Thirty-Nine
Tonight is the night of Diane’s charity dinner dance at the golf club. The one she’s spent the last six months organising. I leave work early, but the Friday traffic is a nightmare. Diane will kill us if we’re late. Or rather, she’ll killme. She’ll assume I left work late; that I wasn’t organised enough. I’m sure this dinner dance is just an excuse to put her family on display. She loves to show Robert off to her golf-club buddies. Although she’d hate me referring to them as herbuddies. Diane doesn’t have buddies. She has family friends or acquaintances. I sigh. I need to stop thinking like this, it’ll only make the evening worse. I’ll make an effort to be extra nice to her tonight.
Home at last, and I have less than half an hour to get ready. I fly inside, say hello to Sadie, plant kisses on the children’s cheeks, promising them we’ll catch up properly tomorrow morning, and I run upstairs. Robert is in the bedroom wearing nothing but his boxers, about to put on his shirt and dinner jacket, which are hanging on the back of the door.
‘Hello!’ I say. ‘Looking good, Mr Ballantine.’
He grins and flexes his muscles in the parody of a bodybuilder. ‘I was worried you were going to be late,’ he says.
‘Me? Late? Never.’
He snorts.
‘Traffic was crap,’ I add, stripping off my work clothes.
‘Friday night mayhem?’
‘Yep. Well, I’m here now. Thought I’d wear my green dress – the one with the diamante clasp.’
‘Good choice. But, then again, you look good in everything,’ he says.
‘Aww, thank you.’
He kisses my bare shoulder. ‘Can you hurry though? Mum made me promise we’d be there right on the dot of half seven.’
‘Sure. I’ll be ready in ten… no, maybe fifteen minutes.’
‘Perfect.’
While Robert finishes getting dressed, I jump into the shower. As the warm water washes the day away, I realise I’m quite looking forward to tonight. We’ll be sitting at the same table as James and Amelia, so the evening will definitely be fun. We’ll drive there and get a taxi back, or maybe we’ll even walk back. I could quite easily spend another ten minutes under this blissful hot water, but I turn the dial off after a two-minute blast. I get dried in record time and head back into the bedroom, the towel wrapped around me. Robert’s not here so I guess he’s already dressed and has gone downstairs.
Rebecca and Charlie are going too, so I’ll have a chance to chat to her away from the children. I asked Suri if she and Steve wanted to come, but she said they were busy. I hope that wasn’t an excuse. I made Eva apologise to Maya after the name-calling incident, but things have been strained between us since then. I don’t suppose I can blame her. Hopefully the girls will make up and Suri will find it easier to talk to me again.
I slap on some body lotion, then put on my underwear before sitting on my side of the bed to pull up my stockings. Sadie must have tidied up the house today. I notice the bed has been made. I wrinkle my nose. I can smell her perfume in here. It’s so strong. Maybe I could ask her not to wear it. Say I’m allergic to it or something. But I can’t do that. That’s probably not an acceptable thing to ask. I’ll just have to put up with it while she’s here. And I must admit, after my doubts, she’s been fantastic this week. Really sweet and helpful.
I open the wardrobe and locate my emerald-green dress, praying it’s not creased or stained. I should have checked beforehand. Holding it under the light, I run my eyes across the crepe material. Luckily, it appears crease- and stain-free, so I slide it over my head. Then, from the jewellery box on my dressing table, I select a diamante cuff and wear it on the opposite wrist to the art-nouveau shoulder-clasp on my dress. In the mirror, I eye myself critically. Just hair and make-up left to do now. Should take me five-ish minutes.
I sit at my dressing table and blast my blonde locks with the dryer. That’s the beauty of having a short style – it doesn’t take long to dry. Next, I slick some product through it and apply my make-up. Lastly, I spritz some perfume onto my wrists and throat. I’m impressed with how quickly I managed to make myself presentable. I’ll put my shoes on once I’m downstairs. I get to my feet and turn to pick up my discarded towel from the bed when something catches my eye.
A hair.
A long, dark hair stuck to my side of the bed, near my pillow. I walk over to the bed and pick it up between my thumb and forefinger. Sadie was in here tidying today, so it’s entirely feasible that one of her hairs ended up on my pillow. But I realise the smell of her perfume is stronger right here, overpowering my own subtle perfume. I bend down to sniff my pillow and rear back in shock. My pillow absolutely stinks of Sadie’s perfume. It’s almost as though… as though she’s lain here.
I pull back the duvet and press my nose to my sheet. The smell is even stronger in my bed. And then I see another long, dark hair stuck to the underside of the duvet.
My heart begins to race. Surely this doesn’t mean anything. It can’t mean what I think it means. But how else can it be explained? I walk round to Robert’s side of the bed, my legs unsteady, my insides twisting. I can smell it here too, not as strong, but it’s still here. What should I do? Should I say something to my husband? Ask him about it? Accuse him?
I straighten up as I hear footsteps on the stairs. The bedroom door opens.
‘Are you nearly ready, Gems? Wow! You look stunning.’
I stare at him as though he’s an alien creature. Not my gorgeous, familiar husband. Surely he would never betray me like this. I trust him. But that scent… her hair…
‘Weird thing…’ I begin, my voice unsteady.
‘What?’ He’s still standing in the doorway. ‘We’ve really got to go, Gemma.’
