I try to think of any other places I could go for the rest of the day until Dom gets home. I would have visited my parents, but they’ve got Marjory and whatshisface over for lunch. I wish my brother lived closer. I always used to get on with him, but Rory left home as soon as he was eighteen. Wimborne was never enough for him. He couldn’t wait to get away. He lives in London now, an eternal bachelor, still pubbing and clubbing in his thirties, showing no signs of wanting to settle down with a family. It pains me to realise it, but we’ve grown apart.
I could mooch around the shops in town, but it would be too busy, too exposed, too risky. Normally, a walk in the countryside would lift my spirits, but if there’s some nutter out there who wants to take Daisy, then we would be alone, vulnerable. I can’t go to Mel’s, as I’m still unsure how things are between us after the money thing. And I’m mortified about throwing her and all the neighbours into a panic yesterday when I thought Daisy had been snatched. I guess there are other friends I could call on, but I feel too out of sorts to be good company.
No. I have no choice but to go home. And the thought fills me with dread.
* * *
As I pull into the cul-de-sac, I see Mel’s car parked in her driveway. Guilt needles me. I really should thank her for organising the search party yesterday. I don’t even bother to drive over to my house. Instead, I pull up on the road outside her house, behind someone’s brand-new BMW X5.
I ring the doorbell, Daisy in my arms. The clip-clop of Mel’s footsteps make me smile, but when she opens the door and sees me, her face drops a little. Is she still mad at me about the money? A flare of anger sparks in my chest.
‘Kirstie,’ she says. ‘How are you?’
‘Fine,’ I lie.
‘And how is this little troublemaker?’ She touches Daisy’s nose with her forefinger.
‘Daisy’s fine. It’s her mummy who’s been losing the plot.’
‘Don’t be daft. You’re not losing the plot.’
‘So you don’t think I overreacted yesterday?’
‘Of course I don’t think you overreacted. I told Dom he was a prat for not leaving you a note.’
‘Did you?’
‘Yeah, when you went back inside with Daisy, Dom came round and apologised to everyone for the misunderstanding. I had a go at him for putting you through all that worry.’
I’d been imagining them gossiping about how unreasonably I’d acted. It’s a relief to hear that Mel doesn’t think I did anything wrong.
‘I came round, and left you voice messages,’ she says, giving me a fake glare, ‘and texts, to tell you not to worry. When you didn’t answer, I thought you were mad at me.’
‘Sorry, Mel. I’m not mad at you. I just felt like an idiot. All I’ve wanted to do is hide away from the neighbours in shame.’
‘Daft cow.’ She kisses Daisy. ‘Your mummy is a silly billy. What shall we do with her?’
‘Just wondered if you fancied a bit of company?’
‘Oh, uh…’
‘Don’t worry if you’re busy. I just popped in on the off-chance.’
‘I would have loved that.’ She squeezes my forearm. ‘But I’ve got someone round at the moment.’
‘Ooh,’ I say, suddenly intrigued. ‘New man?’ I mouth. ‘That his BMW outside?’
She shakes her head, red-faced.
Mel doesn’t ‘do’ embarrassed, so now I’m really intrigued.
‘If you must know,’ she says in a low voice, ‘it’s Tamsin.’
I’m not sure if I’d heard her correctly. ‘Tamsin?’
She nods and grimaces.
‘As in, Tamsin-who-slept-with-Dom Tamsin?’ I ask, narrowing my eyes.
‘I know, I know. She got my number off Penny and asked if we could meet for a coffee.’
‘So you said yes?’ I hear the accusing tone in my voice, but honestly, it feels like a betrayal.
‘Sorry, Kirst. I couldn’t think of an excuse quick enough.’
‘She’s only doing it because she knows you’re my best friend. She wants to piss me off.’
‘We’re not at school any more, Kirst.’
‘Feels that way sometimes.’
‘It’s just a coffee. Why don’t you come and join us? Never know, it might be fun.’ Her eyes twinkle.
‘Thanks, but I don’t think so.’ I can picture Tamsin’s face if I walked in right now. She’d be smug and condescending and I just don’t have the strength for that kind of confrontation. Not after everything else that’s gone on this week.
‘Okay,’ Mel says, her eyes softening, ‘well, we’ll get together soon, yeah?’
I try to smile, but the lump in my throat is too big, so it comes out like a weird wide-eyed inhalation.
Mel gives me an awkward hug and I turn away as she closes the door. I guess I’ll just have to go home.
* * *
Daisy and I spend all afternoon and evening locked up tight inside our house. I’m trying not to think about my best friend and my arch-enemy over the road chatting together, but the thought of them is making me insecure. Will Tamsin try to turn Mel against me? Probably. Tamsin has made it quite clear she hates me. While Daisy naps, I plonk myself on the sofa and open Facebook on my phone. I go onto Mel’s page and see that she’s friends with Tamsin Price – of course she is.
I click on Tamsin’s name and it takes me to her page, where I see a photo of a smiling Tamsin on a tropical beach drinking cocktails with friends. I get an uncomfortable jolt as I notice that her status says ‘single’. Scrolling down, I see that she’s friends with all my school friends. All except me. I scroll further and see various posts where she’s out with friends in various wine bars and coffee shops. Going back further, she posts about her divorce, saying she’s ‘finally free’.
Tamsin Price seemed a lot less threatening when I thought she was still happily married. Now that she’s newly single, does that mean she could be a threat to my marriage? Could she be after Dom again?
I don’t even know why I’m looking at this stuff. I should just ignore Tamsin bloody Price. But it’s hard when she’s back in Wimborne and in contact with our group of friends, but purposely excluding me. It’s even worse that she isn’t with her husband any more. But just because she’s single doesn’t mean she’s a marriage wrecker, does it? I wonder if Mel knows that Tamsin has split up from her husband. She must know. So why didn’t she tell me?
This is ridiculous. I shouldn’t give Tamsin another moment’s thought. She’s just some annoying woman I used to be friends with, that’s all. I close Facebook and check my messages instead. I have a new WhatsApp notification. Looks like Penny is organising a Christmas dinner for all of us. It seems a bit early to be arranging Christmas already, but like she says at the top of the page, all the good places get booked up early. I realise I’m looking forward to it. Scrolling through the group chat, I see that Mel has already replied:
MEL: Yay, am having a cheeky lunchtime prosecco with Tamsin and we’ll both be there. Can’t wait!
* * *
TAMSIN: Mel’s a bad influence, girls. Just saying
* * *
PENNY: You two are a nightmare. We’ll have to seat you at opposite ends of the table.
* * *
MEL: Noooo! We’re twinnies. Me n Tam were separated at birth.
My heart sinks at their posts. I know it’s just friendly banter, but I feel so excluded, like I’m already on the outside of my own friendship circle. How can I reply to the chat now? I’ll have to wait until a few other people chime in, so it doesn’t look like I’m trying to gatecrash Tamsin and Mel’s lovefest. This is exactly what I was afraid of. And part of me believes that Tamsin is doing it on purpose. Although, I guess they’re her friends, too.
With a sick feeling in my throat, I spend the rest of the day trying to distract myself from thoughts of Tamsin and Mel. From thoughts of Martin, and all my worries for Daisy. I attempt to make the time pass more quickly by dozing and watching crappy daytime TV. But the minutes drag, the hours are endless. Daisy fusses, frets and grizzles. I thought she would have a lovely deep sleep after her busy morning, but she is overtired and cranky. I can’t get her to settle. Not with rocking or singing or feeding or any bloody thing.
Dominic eventually arrives home at quarter past seven, by which time I’m hot and frazzled and slightly delirious with exhaustion.