Page 122 of Secret Paths

“That does not make you right,” she says.

“Obviously.”

“It means I was hungry.”

“Of course.”

“And mildly betrayed by my own uterus.”

“I would not dare comment.”

“Wise.”

I sit on the arm of the chair, rain still in my hair, and watch her break off another square.

Then I say, “I also ran into Alexandra.”

Mandy freezes with the chocolate halfway to her mouth.

“Of course you did.”

“She did not connect it to you.”

“Did she connect it to anyone with a pulse?”

“She has theories.”

Mandy closes her eyes. “What did you say?”

“That the items were for a Morton Hall guest.”

Her eyes open.

I continue because apparently the only way through humiliation is straight into the centre of it.

“And that Hunter had asked me.”

“Peter.”

“I know.”

“You do not even work there yet.”

“I also know that.”

“Why would Hunter ask you to buy sanitary towels and knickers?”

“Guest care.”

Her mouth opens.

Nothing comes out.

Then she starts to laugh.

Not the little controlled laugh she uses when she is trying to stay above things. This one catches her sideways and folds her forward, one arm around her stomach, the bag sliding down onto the blanket.

“Guest care?”