“What the hell…?” he starts.
“Oh, thank God,” I wheeze, the breaths I’ve been holding in all rushing to get out.
“What the hell’s going on?” he asks, wavering on the spot, unsure whether to approach me or back away.
“I thought…” I gasp. “I thought…”
“You thought what?” he says, stepping forward to gently prise the knife from my clutched fingers.
I backtrack over the day’s events, berating myself for allowing my imagination to get the better of me. I don’t know whether I feel more foolish or nervous at the prospect of having to explain my irrational behavior to Leon.
“W-what are you even doing here?” I ask, stalling. “I thought you weren’t coming home until tomorrow.”
He eyes me warily. “The traffic was good so I decided to come straight back.”
I can feel unexpected tears spring to my eyes and I go to him, burying my face into his neck. I don’t know whether it’s relief or panic.
As if sensing there’s more going on, he holds me away from him and looks at me earnestly. “Are you OK?”
I nod, willing my tears not to fall. “It’s just that I saw the light on and thought someone was in the house.”
“I didn’t mean to frighten you, but you’re not normally this jumpy.”
“I know,” I say, looking up at him. “I just wasn’t expecting you and…”
“It’s OK,” he says. “I should have phoned. Where have you been anyway?”
“I, erm…” My brain scrambles for a legitimate alibi, but I’m so much on the back foot that it can’t work quickly enough. He knows me too well to be able to scam him. “I, erm, I went out for a drive…”
Leon looks at his watch. “It’s almost ten o’clock at night,” he says, with a hint of suspicion.
“Y-yes,” I stutter, feeling like I’m under a microscope, being dissected in its spotlight. I resent him for making me feel this way, but then I realize I’m doing it to myself. All I have to do is tell the truth; after all, I haven’t done anything wrong. But I already know that’s not how Leon will see it, otherwise I would have already told him by now.
He’s still looking at me with raised eyebrows, waiting for an answer that sounds more plausible than going for a drive on a whim.
“And then,” I go on, “I popped into Shelley’s for a cup of tea.” A beat passes as I wait, with a sickening feeling in my stomach, for Leon to call me out. He knows that I would never just turn up at my friend’s front door on the other side of town unannounced. Especially given that I’d spent half an hour on the phone to her last night.
Yet he lets it go, and with it the expectation for me to elaborate any further.
“So the traffic was good?” I say unnecessarily.
He takes a mug out of the cupboard and I step aside as he comes toward the fridge for the milk.
“I don’t suppose you want a tea, if you’ve just had one?” he questions, in such a way that it makes me feel as if he has an eye into my soul.
I shake my head numbly, even though I’d like nothing more, if only to settle my nerves.
“So, how’s Shelley doing?” he asks, as he pours boiling water into the mug, then drains the tea bag on the side of the cup and chucks it in the bin.
“Good,” I say, feeling as if my voice box is being squeezed. “Busy with work, but all good.”
“So the dog hamper idea has taken off?” he asks, referring to the new business she mooted in passing a few months ago.
“Yes, it seems that every pet owner wants to treat their dog.”
He nods, but every fiber in my being feels as if he’s testing me and knows full well that I’m lying. I guess that’s what a guilty conscience does to you.
“We should get something set up with her and Dave,” he says. “We haven’t seen them since the choir competition.”
“Mmm.” I nod. “That would be nice.”
“How is Dave?” he asks. “Did you see him?”
“No. So did you get everything you needed?” I ask, desperate to change the subject.
He nods somberly.
I go up to him and tuck myself under his arms. “I love you,” I say, feeling a complicated mixture of relief and guilt. Relief that he’s home and that I don’t have to spend the night alone, and guilt that I’ve lied, and lied again, about something I should have been able to be honest about.
I kiss him to assuage both.
“This reeks of a guilty conscience,” he says, as if reading my mind. I pull back, saddened that I’m not able to kiss him without that being his first thought.
But he’s right, isn’t he? Still, I swallow the insult and nuzzle his neck, reaching for him through his trousers, though I can already feel his reticence.
“Have you done something you shouldn’t have?” he asks, tilting himself ever so slightly away from me.
I stop, angry that I’d fooled myself into thinking that spontaneous lovemaking was what we needed. I’m even angrier when he lets me walk away.
“I’m going to do some work,” I say, letting myself out of the back door, knowing that I won’t be able to sleep until I work out what Jacob’s wife might know and where she got her information from.
Once I’m in the office, I put the lamps on and will Jacob’s case file to fly from wherever it is and slot back into its rightful place in my filing cabinet by the time I get to it. I walk painfully slowly, as if giving it every last chance to do what I so want it to.
But no matter how hard I look, it’s not here. Shit.
If Vanessa has managed to find him because my security is so lax, I’ll never forgive myself.
I perch on the edge of my desk, reading through my notebook, though what I’m looking for I don’t know. Defeated, I take my glasses off and rub at the bridge of my nose.
“Hey,” says a voice, making me jump out of my skin.
“Jeez, will you quit scaring me?” I say, as Leon’s face emerges from the darkness into the light.
“What has got into you tonight?” he says.
“Nothing,” I say, waiting for my heart rate to subside. “I thought you’d gone to bed.”
“I had, but then something came in on my phone and I had to get my laptop, which was on the dining table…”
I look at him, wondering where this is going.
“And then I found this and wondered if it was what you were looking for earlier.”
He holds out a folder and raises his eyebrows.
“Oh my god,” I say, snatching it from him. “Where did you find this?” I check inside that it’s what I think it is.
“It was on the dining table,” he says. “In full view.”
“It couldn’t have been, I had the whole place upside down.”
“Well, it was there, hiding in plain sight.”
“Thank God for that,” I say, almost to myself. If Jacob’s wife hasn’t got the information from me, there’s a greater chance that she’s just calling his bluff.
“So, can you come to bed now?” he asks, coming toward me.
Even in the low lighting, I can see that his eyes have changed. Gone is the coldness of just half an hour ago, having been replaced by the softness that made me fall in love with him.
Without saying a word, he pushes me back onto my desk, sending the pen tidy crashing to the floor. He unbuttons himself before lowering himself on top of me, planting soft feathery kisses on my neck.
“Turn the lights off,” I say, as he unbuttons my blouse.
“I want to look at you,” he says, reaching underneath me to unfasten my bra.
“But someone might see…” I lamely protest, already abandoning myself to the tingling sensation of his tongue.
“If there’s anyone out there,” he says, daring to stop, to look at the inky blackness beyond the window. “Then they can have a ringside seat.”
7