‘Stay away, Louise. I told you before and I meant it.’
‘And I told you, I don’t know what you’re talking about. And I have stayed away. I’ve had enough of the pair of you.’ I deliver it fiercely, but it’s all lies, lies, lies. He can see through me. I hate that.
He looks at me for a long moment, and I wish I could read him better. His blue eyes have dulled to match the dying sky, and I can’t see what’s going on behind them. What he’s thinking.
‘Stay away from us. If you don’t want to end up hurt.’
‘Is that a threat?’ I want to cry and I don’t even know why. What have I got myself into? And after everything, why do I find it so hard to hate him when he’s right in front of me like this? My David.
He glares at me. That cold David is back. The stranger. ‘Yes, it’s a threat. Believe me, it’s a threat. You know what you forgot last night?’
I’m silent, just staring. What? What did I forget?
‘There’s a security camera outside the clinic.’
Oh God, he’s right. I can see where he’s going with this before he says it. He knows, but he says it anyway.
‘One word from me to get last night’s recording looked at and at best all that will happen to you is that your chances of future employment are screwed. At best.’
He jabs a finger at me and I flinch. The pills. The file with all the notes on Adele. Psychotic break. Sociopathic tendencies. Maybe it’s him who has them. Maybe he’s not only a mercenary after his wife’s money. Maybe he’s the madman. But still, although he has me over a barrel, none of this would look good on him if I got to have my say. I’m a threat to him too.
‘Stay out of my marriage,’ he finishes. Each word is spat out as if he wishes he could spit right at me.
‘Says the man who fucked me. Maybe you should worry about yourself rather than whatever I’m doing or not doing.’
‘Oh, I do, Louise,’ he says. ‘Trust me, I do.’ He turns to walk away, and then pauses. ‘There’s one thing I’d like to know. One thing I need to know.’
‘What?’
‘How exactly did you meet my wife?’
‘I told you. I bumped into her. I wasn’t stalking her or you or anything.’ Don’t flatter yourself, I want to add.
‘I know that. I mean when and where.’
I stare at him, hesitant. ‘Why does it matter?’
‘Humour me, Louise. I want to know.’
‘It was a morning. I’d just dropped Adam off at school. She was on her way back from walking with you to the clinic and I bumped into her and knocked her down.’ It feels like yesterday and yet so far away. So much has happened since then. My head starts to throb. Ensnared as I am, as much as I’m determined to help Adele, right now I wish I’d never met either of them.
David shakes his head and half smiles. ‘Of course,’ he says.
‘What?’
He looks at me then, directly at me, but his face is in shadow, his eyes glints of glass in the gloom, his words disembodied. ‘My wife has never walked to work with me in the mornings.’
‘I don’t believe you,’ I say. ‘I don’t believe anything you say any more.’
He’s still standing there, a darkening figure, when I close the door, shutting him out, reclaiming my small world, my private space. I press my ear against the door to see if I can hear his footsteps on the concrete outside, but my head is filled with my heartbeat throbbing in my ears.
Oh God, oh God, oh God. What am I doing? Maybe Sophie is right. Maybe I should walk away. How much of my life do I want to fuck up for this? David could make me look like a crazy person to Dr Sykes. To everyone. I could be screwed for work for ever. I could probably go to prison. It’s all my own fault. My curiosity’s fault. If I hadn’t been curious about Adele I would have made my excuses and not gone for coffee that morning. And what did he mean ‘she never walks to work with me’? She must have done. What’s he trying to make me think?
Don’t trust him, I tell myself. Don’t listen to him. Go with what you know. You know about the pills. You know about the calls. You know about his drinking and the money and the file in the office. These things are solid things. And he just threatened you.
Adele still hasn’t texted me back, but even if I do decide to walk away from it all, she needs to know about what I found in the office. She needs to make her own decisions based on that. I’ll go and see her tomorrow and then I’ll leave it all alone. I’ve said that before, but this time I mean it. I have to mean it.
My head is pounding and I sit on the sofa and let my skull rest against the back cushions. I need to calm down. I inhale through my nose and breathe out through my mouth, letting the air get deeper and slower and forcing the tense muscles of my scalp, face, and neck to relax. I empty my thoughts, imagining them being blown away on a night breeze. I don’t want to think about them. I don’t want to think about my mess. I don’t want to think about anything. I want to leave myself behind, just for a while.