‘Oh good, not too long in the car, then. Bye, bye, Jessica. Take care, darling. It really has been lovely to see you.’ She gives me another hug, a little longer this time, and a kiss on the cheek. I can feel her silently willing me strength and love. It makes me want to collapse into her arms and sob.
I manage to smile, and dig my hands in my pockets as I turn to walk away. I know she sees the tears in my eyes but is kind enough not to come after me. I don’t ever think of her – only Ben – in relation to what I’ve done and yet, here she is, seventeen years later, still visiting the grave of her ‘granddaughter’. Somehow her still being the human equivalent of a cup of tea – she was always so supportive to me – only makes my lie a hundred times worse. While it’s clear she doesn’t know the truth for one second – and that means Ben doesn’t either, because he tells his mother everything, always has done – it’s so small a comfort it vanishes before I’ve even properly felt it.
Is she right – was our meeting here meant? Is this supposed to be my opportunity to turn back and tell her the truth now, just as Laurel said I should? I hesitate and stop on the path – but then carry on walking, even speeding up determinedly.
Yes, probably, it is meant. Laurel is almost certainly right – the way this week has gone so far, whoever is doing this to me does plan to tell Ben. But they might not – and I’m prepared to cling to that sliver of possibility, because actually Laurel is wrong – it doesn’t matter who tells the Davies family the truth; they will be devastated either way, and I’d rather they have as long as possible in blissful ignorance… before their hearts are broken all over again.
* * *
Once I’ve dropped Sandrine off at college with a promise to collect her at 4.30 p.m, and firm orders for her not to go back to our house before then, I drive to Ed’s parents’.
Bob answers the door. ‘Hello, sweetheart!’ He kisses me, but also looks slightly dismayed to see James back again. ‘We’ve got the boy this afternoon then, have we? I had half an eye on the driving range. Still, I’m sure Sheila knows all about it. Come in, come in!’
Sheila has already appeared behind him, and scoops James into her arms, covering him with kisses and snuffles – which make him giggle with delight – while cooing ‘hello my little Jim-Jam! Nanna’s got some lovely lunch for you! Yes, I have! Come on in, Jess, love. Big day today, then! Have you heard from the solicitor yet?’ She calls over her shoulder, already half way down the hall with James, towards the kitchen. By the time I arrive in the doorway, she’s already putting him in his high chair and there’s a little plastic plate on the table, ready and waiting, containing pitta strips, hummus, carrot sticks, cheese, and cucumber.
‘OOOh! Yummy!’ James exclaims, as if he hasn’t eaten for a week, and tucks in happily. Sheila ruffles his hair fondly and smiles at me. ‘So you were saying? Any news?’
‘No, not yet.’ Although on cue, my phone rings and it’s the solicitor. ‘Hang on. This could be it now.’
‘Good morning, Mrs Casson,’ a crisp female voice says when I answer. ‘Rebecca Lomas from Burnett & Co. We’re ready to exchange and I’m just ringing to make sure you still want to proceed?’
‘Yes, definitely,’ I say.
‘Great, I’ll call you back when we have.’
I hang up. ‘Cross your fingers – it should be about to go through any second now.’
Sheila pulls an anxious face. ‘Don’t think about it. A watched pot… tell me instead how your dad is? Feeling better?’
That catches me off guard, I have absolutely no idea what Ed has said to them about last night. I must look like a rabbit in the headlights, but I answer slowly: ‘Yes, much better thanks.’ I wait to see if she mentions anything about the gas leak – which is presumably why we are here now, but she doesn’t, so I have no idea what it’s safe to say next.
‘Well now, Jess, are you staying for lunch?’ she asks politely, ‘or have you just got to go straight off?’
Where am I supposed to be going? I flounder around slightly. ‘Um, actually I’ll just get on, if that’s OK, Sheila. I’ll be back to get him around four? That’s what you agreed with Ed?’
‘Whenever you’re ready. I can give him tea too if you like? He slept in the car, I expect, so he doesn’t need a nap?’
‘Yes. Sorry.’
‘Oh, no bother at all. We’ll just go and feed the ducks after lunch then, Jamesy. Get that Grandad to come with us too, shall we?’ She looks up at me and winks. ‘All taken care of. Off you go, love and good luck for the house. Look forward to hearing your good news later!’
* * *
I park round the corner, to try and gather my thoughts, as my phone rings. It’s the solicitor again. ‘Congratulations,’ she says. ‘We just exchanged with completion set for three weeks today.’
‘Oh, thank you so much!’
‘Not at all, I’ll put the confirmation letter in the post to all parties tonight. Have a good weekend.’
I feel weak as I hang up. Thank God for that. I want nothing more than to be out of that house now. I call Ed, but he doesn’t answer. I text him instead, and get one back saying he’s in a meeting, can’t talk but that’s great, and he dropped a new set of keys with the estate agent before work this morning.
Feeling suddenly very flat and totally exhausted, I wonder what to do next. I can’t go home; I don’t want to go and see any of the NCT girls; I don’t want to see anyone actually. I ought to go and do some work, but perhaps I’ll try and catch up on All That Sparkles tonight instead. I close my eyes for a moment, and Ben’s mother pops back into my head, smiling and holding her flowers. I can’t bear that someone might be poised to devastate her too, and I’m suddenly sick of feeling so completely powerless to prevent all of this from happening, bar telling her myself. I hesitate, and then reaching suddenly for my phone, I google ‘Simon Strallen headmaster’, which brings up a news article from the school in Surrey that Simon is now at, ‘delighted’ to be announcing his appointment. I look at the school’s website – it’s only an hour away. I could be there and back, and have time to talk to Simon for twenty minutes, by four o’clock. Ed would be furious, but I think I need to see Simon. I want to know if anything has been happening to him too – if he has any answers for me at all.
* * *
His PA – because it’s that kind of school – informs me regretfully that Mr Strallen is meeting with the Chair of Governors, and can’t be disturbed. I ask her to tell him Jessica Davies is here to see him, and it won’t take long.
It doesn’t. I look up from my seat at the sound of brisk footsteps on stone floors, echoing around the Abbey school corridor, to see him walking towards me, today in expensive pinstripe. He looks absolutely in his element.
‘Mrs Davies.’ He smiles widely, as if I’m a prospective parent, and offers me his hand. I take it, but as we shake, his fingers slide briefly to the inside of my wrist, and he gently presses, as if taking my pulse. It completely unnerves me and I step back as we drop hands. He leans in through the door of his PA’s office and says: ‘I’ll just be five minutes, Penny.’
Did I just imagine him touching me like that?
‘No, I won’t have tea, thank you. Mrs Davies, can I offer you a drink?’
I shake my head mutely and, unfazed, he calls back over his shoulder: ‘We’ll pass thank you, Penny. I’ll be in my office if you need anything. Now, Mrs Davies.’ He turns his attention back to me, opening the door to a vast, plush room containing an imposing panelled desk in front of a large leaded window, and several armchairs round a roaring wood burner. ‘Do come in.’