‘I’ll live.’ He pulls me into a hug. ‘Are we okay now, Kirst?’
‘Yeah,’ I say, suddenly feeling a renewed warmth towards my husband. ‘Course we are. Yesterday was just a stupid misunderstanding.’
‘Good. I hate it when we fight.’ Dominic releases his hold on me and I feel instantly colder, more alone. He’s leaving for work, and once again I have this sinking, twisting feeling in my belly about Daisy and I being left on our own. I need to get a grip. I lift Daisy out of her cot. I need to change her nappy, but we’ll do it in a minute. For now, we follow Dom down the stairs and kiss him goodbye. I stand in the doorway and watch as he walks away.
‘Okay, Daisy Doo, I better get you changed.’ I turn and close the door, about to head back up the stairs, when there’s a loud knocking at the front door behind me, like someone’s using their fists. Dom is shouting for me to open the door. I turn back and pull it open. His face is red, confused, angry.
‘Dom? What is it?’
‘Some bastard keyed my car!’ he cries.
‘What?’
‘Yeah, there’s a huge great gash running all the way down the driver’s side. I can’t believe it!’
‘Who did that?’
‘I have no idea. But I’ll bloody kill them if I find out.’
‘Could it be the same person who did the flowers and the paint?’ I ask.
But Dom is already striding away down the path. Still in my pyjamas, with Daisy balanced on my hip, I follow him towards his gleaming, dark-blue Audi. Daisy’s eyes widen as she looks around, enjoying being outside.
‘It must have been kids,’ I add. ‘Or…’
‘What?’ he says. ‘Or what?’ He stops and turns to me.
‘That person I saw in the fields last night, it could have been them. It probably was them.’
‘Of course! I forgot about that. What did they look like? Did you see their face?’
I bite back a retort. Now he’s interested in who it was. Now that his precious car has been damaged. But that’s not fair of me. I’d be pissed off too if it was my little Golf. ‘I told you I didn’t get a good look at them. It was dark. I couldn’t see them properly.’ I think about mentioning the fact that Callum has been hanging around the Parkfields’ house, but I honestly don’t think it was anything to do with him. What possible reason would he have to scratch Dom’s car? He was never a troublemaker at school. I can’t imagine it would have been him. And if I tell Dom, he’ll mention it to the police and Callum might get in serious trouble. I don’t want to be the cause of that.
We continue on down the path until we reach Dom’s Audi and I walk around to the driver’s side. At once, I’m both fascinated and repelled by the previously immaculate paintwork now scarred by a thin, uneven metallic line from front to back. For a strange moment, my cheek throbs in sympathy, like someone has scored the skin across my face. I put my free hand to my cheek, gently touching it with my fingertips. But, of course, it’s smooth, unhurt.
‘I wonder if my car’s okay.’ I glance over at my silver Golf.
‘It’s fine,’ Dom says. ‘I already checked.’
‘You better call the police,’ I say.
He sighs and rolls his neck from side to side. ‘You’re right. I’ll call them when I get to work. Otherwise I’ll be late.’
‘Do you think it’s just your car?’ I ask. ‘Maybe the neighbours’ cars got—’
‘Good point,’ he interrupts, and strides off in the direction of the Parkfields’ driveway. He scans Stephen’s BMW and Lorna’s Honda CRV. Next, he heads over to the Cliffords’ drive. While he’s checking Rosa Clifford’s cream VW Beetle, she steps out of her house, a flimsy white dressing gown wrapped around her willowy figure. Even from here I can tell she doesn’t have much else on underneath. Her dark hair is tousled and she shades her eyes against the morning sun as Dom points my way. But then I realise he’s pointing to his car, explaining. Rosa’s hand flies to her mouth. They check her Beetle together, walking all the way around it. Next, they check her husband Jimmy’s black VW California.
Dom says something and Rosa laughs, lightly pushing his shoulder. They seem very pally. I think back to what Dominic told me, about visiting their house to have a beer with Jimmy. I wonder if Rosa was there at the time. And if she was, why didn’t they ask if I wanted to join them? Is Dom ashamed of the post-baby me? Does he have a better time when I’m not around?
My husband eventually heads over to Mel’s place to check on her Mercedes. Rosa gives me a short wave before disappearing back into her house. I wave back, thinking uncharitable thoughts.
Finally, Dom heads back to me, jogging across the road, handsome in his suit, his tanned face creased in a frown. He slows down once he reaches the pavement, and shakes his head. ‘Their cars are all fine. It’s just mine. Typical.’
‘What about Martin’s car? Is it back in his drive?’ I suppose I could have checked it myself, but I can’t bring myself to go over there.
‘Oh, yeah. Hang on.’ Dom disappears from view for a few moments.
Martin’s house is screened by laurel hedges and leylandii. Despite the rising heat, I give a shiver. For a Tuesday morning, our close is very quiet. The builders haven’t arrived yet.
Dom returns, a scowl plastered across his face. ‘Of course they don’t touch Martin’s twelve-year-old Corsa, no, they have to vandalise my brand-new Audi. Wankers.’
‘Martin’s car’s back then?’
‘What? Yeah, it’s in his drive.’
‘Don’t worry,’ I say, putting a hand on his arm, and trying not to think about the fact that Martin has now returned from wherever he was yesterday. ‘Work will get it fixed for you. It’s covered by insurance, isn’t it?’
‘I bloody hope so. It’s not just that, though. It’s the hassle. Explaining what happened, calling the police, filling in forms. I could do without it, Kirst.’
‘I know.’ It’s not actually Dom’s car, it’s a company car. But he loves that thing like it’s our second child.
He gives me and Daisy a distracted kiss each before sliding into the disfigured vehicle and closing the door. He buzzes down the window. ‘I might be late tonight.’
‘Late?’ I cry, trying not to overreact. ‘How come? You’re working really long hours at the moment.’
‘Tell me about it.’
‘They shouldn’t expect you to stay late every night. They know you’ve got a new baby.’
‘Look, I don’t want to worry you,’ he says, which has the effect of instantly making me feel worried, ‘but there have been a few rumours at work. Some people are saying that the company might be taken over.’
‘Taken over?’ I don’t like the sound of that. ‘What does that mean?’
‘They’re saying an American company is interested in buying us out. Hopefully they’re just rumours. But, even if it’s true, I’m pretty sure my job will be safe.’
‘Pretty sure?’ My mind starts to rush ahead. Without Dom’s income we’re screwed. We’d have to sell up, downsize. We’d probably have to leave Wimborne. It’s not exactly a cheap place to live. ‘Why didn’t you tell me this before?’
‘I didn’t want to worry you. But that’s the reason I’ve been staying later than usual.’
‘What will we do if you’re made redundant?’ I ask, even though I know now is not the time to talk about it.
‘Don’t worry,’ he says reaching out a hand through the window and taking mine. ‘As long as I work my butt off and make myself indispensable, there’s no way they’ll lay me off. But I have to put the hours in, okay? I don’t want to give them any excuse to get rid of me.’
‘Okay,’ I reply. I don’t suppose he has any choice.
‘I’ll call you later. Let you know what time I’ll be back.’
‘Good luck with the police,’ I say.
‘Thanks. Love you. See you later.’ He lets go of my hand and closes the window.
I watch him drive away, plumes of dust swirling in his wake, my whole body churning with anxiety.
Seventeen