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Tilda pulled out her phone from her bag. ‘Turns out he’s been very sloppy about covering his tracks.’ Tilda couldn’t help but smile at this, a glint in her eye. ‘Susie, if you needed evidence, it’s all here.’ Tilda pointed at her phone. She tapped the screen a few times, then swiped and tapped some more. She held the screen so Susie could see it. ‘There.’
Susie squinted at the screen. ‘May I?’ She took it from Tilda to get a good look. ‘Oh my God, I knew it. His old fucking girlfriend.’ She started laughing.
‘I’m not sure what reaction I was expecting, Susie, but it definitely wasn’t laughter.’
‘I’m sorry, but I should have known it would be her. He’s far too lazy to actually put in any effort to find someone new.’ Susie tapped at the screen again. ‘Wow, she hasn’t changed much.’ Susie looked at the familiar features of her husband’s old university friend. She’d even met her a few times, first at their wedding, then over the years at various landmark birthday parties. ‘I never liked her.’
‘Susie, I’m so sorry, but you did ask me to.’
‘Please don’t apologise. You did exactly as I asked. I don’t even have a Facebook account any more so there wasn’t a hope of me ever finding this stuff out. So how did you know?’
‘Well, she goes on and on about being single, in a “lady doth protest too much” kind of way. Then I looked at her photos and sure enough, she’s been in all the same restaurants as the ones he’s been in on the dates you told me. Luckily, her serial posting addiction worked in our favour. And if you look at this photo, where she’s taken a selfie…’ Tilda scrolled to find the offending photo, ‘you can see there’s a hand on her thigh.’ She zoomed in on the photo.
There, quite clearly, was a pudgy hand resting high up on the smiling woman’s thigh. Susie got closer to the screen. ‘He didn’t even bother to take his wedding ring off.’
‘You sure you’re OK?’ Tilda put her phone back in her bag.
‘Well, it’s hardly a surprise. I just hadn’t envisaged being a divorcee.’
‘You mean that’s it? No second chances?’
Susie smiled with relief. ‘No second chances. This is my ticket out.’
35
Flora had arrived early, not wanting to risk getting lost or stuck in traffic. It was still over half an hour until the agreed meeting time. She found a quiet table at the back of the café suggested by Denise, ordered a pot of tea and a toasted teacake and went to the table with her tray.
The café was busy with people coming and going, the constant buzz of conversation meaning that individual ones couldn’t be heard. Thank goodness, thought Flora.
She’d parked not far away, walking through the streets of the unfamiliar town, Christmas lights twinkling overhead and in shop windows. The high street was busy with shoppers carrying bulging bags, the sound of a brass band in the air. But now, sitting here, a teacake she suddenly had no appetite for in front of her, Flora wondered what on earth she was doing. What had made her think that meeting this woman would make any difference to how she felt about losing her brother? Flora looked at her watch. Fifteen minutes until the meeting time. She still had time to make a run for the door and forget the whole thing, if she was quick. She put her arms back into her coat and reached down, looking for her bag on the floor.
By the time Flora looked up again, someone was standing opposite her, an older woman. Same grey hair, a small smile on her face. ‘Hello.’
‘Oh, I…’ Flora stumbled on her words, embarrassed.
‘I’m Denise.’ The woman’s voice trembled a little.
‘I’m so sorry, I just…’ Flora shook her head. ‘I’m Flora. Please, sit down.’
Denise did so, unravelling her scarf and putting it with her coat on the back of her seat.
‘Can I get you some tea?’
‘No, thanks, I ordered some on the way in. They’re bringing it over in a moment.’
They looked at one another, neither sure of what to say next.
‘So,’ Flora began.
‘So,’ said Denise.
Flora took a deep breath. ‘I guess I need to start by saying thank you for agreeing to meet me.’
‘Honestly, it’s the least… I feel I owe it to you.’ Denise wanted to reach out her hand but stopped herself, worried about saying or doing the wrong thing.
‘I’m not expecting you to say anything to make me feel better. I think I just want to… I don’t know.’ Flora sighed. ‘I’m sorry, Denise, I don’t know what I want.’ She laughed nervously.
Denise looked at her. ‘Listen, this is an awful situation for us all. You’ve lost a brother and I am so, so sorry for that.’ Her voice trembled again. ‘More than you will ever know.’ She put her hands together, letting them fall into her lap. ‘And my son is in prison for doing what he did.’
