The Babysitter

Jade was so tempted to invite him to do the same, but… it was too soon. He was clearly worrying himself silly about Melissa, imagining himself responsible for her, indebted to her in some way for giving birth to his children, as if she’d done something miraculous. Well, Jade supposed it was a bit of a miracle that she’d managed to produce two, given that the woman was useless at the fundamentals. He must have been so relieved when she did finally manage to get pregnant and hang on to it – he wouldn’t have to keep going through the mechanics of having sex with her. Jade doubted he would have got much satisfaction there. And he certainly wasn’t getting any now.

Jade might have to do something about that, she decided. Fuck him long and slow. Jade’s insides clenched at the thought of him coming hard inside her. She could almost feel it.

‘Another?’ She turned, waving the whisky bottle, sure he would see the burning desire pooling in her eyes, possibly throw his principles to the wind and stride across to take her there and then. Mark’s gaze, though, was unfortunately elsewhere, studying the happy-fucking-family snaps lined up on the mantelpiece. Bloody Melissa. Jade reined in her irritation. It wasn’t his fault. It was hers, digging her claws in and holding on to him, manipulating him. The sooner the man stopped torturing himself and made up his mind to leave her, the better.

‘Mark?’

‘What?’ Mark snapped his gaze back to her. ‘Oh. Sorry. I, er…’ He looked from her face to the bottle, taking in her breasts, which she was holding the bottle strategically in front of, and then back to her face. ‘Why not?’ he finally said, handing the glass to her.

The poor man was beyond exhausted. He needed a massage, firm hands to ease away the knots in his muscles. Pouring his usual small measure, then adding another good splash, Jade carried the drink over. His fingers brushed hers as she handed it to him, sending an electrifying jolt of sexual tension right through her.

‘Thanks,’ he said, such longing in his eyes as he smiled up at her that Jade was tempted to throw her own carefully laid plans to the wind and peel off her top there and then. But no. The decision had to be his. She couldn’t rush it. She couldn’t give him cause to lay the blame at her feet should he lose his children. Though that was highly unlikely – there was no way Melissa would be deemed capable of looking after them, assuming she didn’t do them all a favour and end her sad little life before custody was an issue – but it was still better to err on the side of caution.

Offering him an encouraging smile, Jade walked across to the seat opposite him, making sure to swing her hips seductively, but not too overtly, as she did. Curling herself up on the chair, she watched him pondering for a while – probably questioning how he’d come to be trapped in such a destructive relationship. ‘I’m a good listener,’ she said.

Mark turned his attention back to her, his expression pensive. ‘I hadn’t realised how bad things were,’ he said quietly.

Jade waited, hoping he’d say more, but Mark fell silent, kneading his temple instead.

‘I’m glad I can be here,’ she said. ‘To help.’

Mark nodded, once.

‘And how’s the investigation going?’ she asked, keen to show some support with the obvious lack of any from his wife.

‘Not great.’ He sighed and took a large gulp of his drink. ‘I thought I was on to something, a possible location on Hawthorn Farm, but…’

Oh shit! Alarm bells rang loud in Jade’s head. ‘No luck, I take it?’ she asked, trying not to sound too interested, as her brain scrambled for a plan. She’d have to speak to Dylan, enlist his help, bribe him or goad him. It wouldn’t be a problem, she assured herself. The man was as malleable as Melissa’s clay, but she’d have to do it soon.

‘No.’ Mark shook his head disconsolately. ‘Turned out to be a wild goose chase. I was so bloody sure.’

Sighing again, he got to his feet and walked to the cupboard to top up his glass.

‘Is that why you were late?’ Jade asked.

‘Yeah, sorry about that. I was later than I thought I’d be. If I’d known Mel was working I would have tried to get back sooner.’

‘It’s not a problem,’ Jade assured him. ‘I get that you’ll be detained sometimes. I mean, with a missing child investigation underway it’s bound to happen.’ She hesitated, then decided to go for it. ‘I’m sorry Mel didn’t seem to understand.’

Mark looked at her quizzically as he sat back down.

‘I overheard, when I brought the tea out.’

Mark nodded, his jaw set tight. ‘She used to,’ he said, taking a small sip of his whisky. ‘For some reason, she doesn’t seem to trust me right now. I’m still not sure I understand why.’

‘Does that worry you?’ Jade probed carefully.

Mark hesitated, as if not sure how much to confide. ‘Frankly,’ he said, after a second, ‘it bloody terrifies me.’

‘Why?’ Jade asked, gently urging him on.

Mark ran his hands up over his face. ‘I don’t… I know she’s ill, but I’m beginning to wonder whether she still…’ He paused, picked up his whisky, put it back down, then got to his feet.

‘She seems to be pulling away from me,’ he said eventually. ‘I’m not sure how I’d handle it if we split.’

What? Her heart flipping violently inside her, Jade stared hard at him.

‘I’ve seen the damage a broken home can wreak,’ he went on, plunging his hands in his pockets and walking to the window, staring out at nothing. ‘I don’t want that for my kids,’ he admitted, his voice tight.

And Jade’s heart settled clunkily back into its moorings.

And he wouldn’t have to, she decided, steeling her resolve. There would be no broken-home scenario. Angel was hers. She loved her. She was her child. She would never see her without her father. He must know that. Poppy, who was now grating seriously on her nerves, she hadn’t made up her mind about yet, but she could tolerate her, at least for a short while, if Mark was really going to be so heartbroken without her.

‘Crap!’ Mark said suddenly, moving away from the window and heading for the door.

Jade started after him, and then, realising Evie was crying, rushed into the hall. ‘I’ll go,’ she said, catching his arm as he mounted the stairs. ‘You’ve had one or two whiskies,’ she pointed out kindly, searching his eyes. Such troubled eyes, it tore at her heart.

Mark nodded and stepped back down, a little unsteadily on his feet, Jade noted. ‘One or two too many,’ he admitted, looking ashamed.

‘I think you probably needed them,’ Jade sympathised. ‘I’ll look in on Melissa as soon as I’ve settled Evie. Why don’t you have a lie down on the sofa? You’re obviously a bit tiddly. It might be an idea not to disturb her tonight.’



* * *



Knowing Melissa would be cooped up in the workshop for some time, Jade finished her tasks in the kitchen the next morning. She’d struggled a bit with the U-bend under the sink, but the lump of clay was now successfully wedged in place.

Having realised she needed to bring things to a head, Jade had lain awake in the night pondering how, and finally come to a conclusion. She had to shatter Mark’s white knight image once and for all, make Melissa believe that he wasn’t the perfect husband she had always thought. But the woman wouldn’t go of her own volition, not without the children, and Jade would never allow her to take Angel. Nor would Mark. He was obviously scared for his fragile demented wife, but his children came first. If Melissa wasn’t going to leave willingly without them, then Jade had to make sure she left unwillingly.

To which end, she had to make sure that Mark started being less concerned for his wife and more concerned for himself. He had to get good and angry, and Melissa needed to see it, to realise how utterly disillusioned with her he was. She had to learn that he was concerned for his children, as any caring father would be, and that having her sectioned might be his only option. Melissa would react, of course – irrationally and violently, hopefully. Yes, the more she pondered, the more she liked the idea. Melissa would go, and soon, one way or another.

And Jade would step seamlessly into her shoes.

We’ll all be together soon, sweetheart. She mentally addressed her precious Angel. Just you, me and Daddy. Won’t that be lovely?

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