We arrive at Esther and Rufus’s house and, along with a huge bouquet of flowers and a bottle of champagne, Jack hands Esther back her book, which I presume he’s returned to its original state. She asks me what I thought of it and I tell her what I told Jack, that it took me a while to get through it because it wasn’t the sort of book I would normally read. She seems overly disappointed, which makes me wonder if it was her who highlighted the words after all and, hiding my panic, I look at her anxiously. But there’s nothing on her face to suggest I might have missed an opportunity, and my heartbeat slows back down.
We go through to where Diane and Adam are waiting, Jack’s arm around my waist. I don’t know if it’s because of all the little courtesies he’s accorded me or because I managed to wear the dress that I wanted, but, by the time we’ve finished our drinks and are heading for the table, I’m beginning to feel as if I’m a normal woman on a normal night out instead of a prisoner out with her jailer. Or maybe it’s just that I’ve had too much champagne to drink. As we wind our way through the delicious dinner that Esther has cooked for us, I’m aware of Jack watching me from across the table as I eat too much and talk a lot more than I usually do.
‘You look pensive, Jack,’ Esther remarks.
‘I was just thinking how much I’m looking forward to Millie coming to live with us,’ he says, in what only I recognise as a call to order.
‘It can’t be long now,’ she says.
‘Seventy-five days.’ Jack sighs happily. ‘Did you know that, Grace? Only another seventy-five days until Millie moves into her lovely red bedroom and becomes part of our family.’
I’d been about to take a sip of wine, but my heart plummets so fast that the glass comes to an abrupt stop in mid-air and a little slops over the side.
‘No, I didn’t know,’ I say, wondering how I could have sat there so complacently when time is running out, wondering how I could have forgotten, even for one minute, the desperate situation that I’m in. Seventy-five days—how could there be so little time left? More importantly, how am I ever going to be able to think of a way of escaping from Jack when I haven’t been able to in the three hundred and seventy-five days that must have passed since we came back from our honeymoon? Back then, even after the horror I had been through—and the ones that had faced me when we arrived at the house—I had never doubted that I would be able to escape before Millie came to live with us. Even when each attempt I made failed, there had always been a next time. But I hadn’t tried for more than six months now.
‘Carry on, Grace,’ says Jack, nodding at my glass of wine and smiling at me. I stare back at him numbly and he raises his glass. ‘Let’s drink to Millie coming to live with us.’ He looks around the table. ‘In fact, why don’t we all drink to Millie?’
‘Good idea,’ Adam says, raising his glass. ‘To Millie.’
‘To Millie,’ everyone chimes, as I try to fight the panic rising inside me. Aware of Esther looking at me curiously I raise my glass quickly, hoping she won’t notice my shaking hand.
‘While we’re in a celebratory mood,’ Adam says, ‘perhaps you’d all care to raise your glasses again.’ Everybody looks at him in interest. ‘Diane is expecting a baby! A brother or sister for Emily and Jasper!’
‘What wonderful news!’ says Esther, as congratulations fly around the table. ‘Don’t you think so, Grace?’
To my horror, I burst into tears.
In the shocked silence that follows, the thought of the punishment that Jack is going to exact from me for my lack of self-control makes me cry even more. I try frantically to stem the tears but it’s impossible and, horribly embarrassed, I get to my feet, aware of Diane at my side, trying to comfort me. But it is Jack who takes me in his arms—because how can he do otherwise?—and holds me close, cradling my head against his shoulder, murmuring soothing words of comfort, and I cry even harder, thinking of how it could have been, of how I had thought it would be. For the first time, I want to give up, to die, because suddenly everything is too much and there is no solution in sight.
‘I can’t go on like this,’ I sob to Jack, not caring that everyone is listening.
‘I know,’ he soothes. ‘I know.’ It’s as if he’s acknowledging that he’s gone too far and, for a split second, I actually believe that everything is going to be all right. ‘I think we should tell them, don’t you?’ He raises his head. ‘Grace had a miscarriage last week,’ he announces. ‘And I’m afraid it wasn’t the first.’
There’s a collective gasp and a few seconds of appalled silence before everyone starts talking at once in subdued voices, commiserating with us. Although I know that their kind words of sympathy and understanding relate to a miscarriage I’ve never had, I manage to derive enough comfort from them to be able to pull myself together.
‘I’m sorry,’ I mumble to Jack, hoping to dilute the anger I know I’ll have to face later.
‘Don’t be silly,’ says Diane, patting my shoulder. ‘But I wish you’d told us. I feel awful about Adam announcing my pregnancy like that.’
‘I can’t go on any longer,’ I say, still speaking to Jack.
‘You’d find it much simpler if you just accept everything,’ he says.
‘Can we just leave Millie out of it?’ I ask desperately.
‘I’m afraid not,’ he says solemnly.
‘Millie doesn’t have to know, does she?’ asks Esther, puzzled.