Mark could save himself all the hassle if only he’d intervene and have his mental wife sectioned. In time he would see it was the only kind thing to do, for her own and everyone else’s safety. Meanwhile, though, Jade had no choice but to ramp up her efforts, even if she did have to manufacture the proof that Mark found his needy wife about as exciting as cold tapioca.
Collecting Mark’s laptop from the hall, Jade extracted the luxury bar of chocolate from her handbag, peeling back the enticingly shiny wrapper and settling down at the kitchen island to browse at leisure. Mark and Melissa would be ages at the hospital, which gave her plenty of time.
Popping a chunk of chocolate in her mouth, Jade sucked slowly. Mmm. It really was as delicious as she’d mentioned to Poppy. Hopefully, after the trauma of her collapse and hospitalisation, the brat wouldn’t remember eating it, but if it came out, then Jade would just play her part – innocent and apologetic. And of course, it had never occurred to her to imagine the thieving little brat would sneak into her bag and help herself to it.
* * *
Up bright and early the next morning, Jade hovered at the kitchen window, intending to catch the postman before Mark or Melissa came down. They weren’t likely to surface early after the dreadful night they’d had at the hospital, opting to stay by Poppy’s side.
She’d survived, probably due to Mark’s quick thinking in getting her there. Mark had rung her, as he would, to let her know they were keeping her in for observation for at least eight hours. He really was so thoughtful, assuming she’d be worried. Her blood tests had been clear, he’d also told her, which had perturbed Jade a bit. Having given his consent to Jade spiking needy Melissa’s bedtime drink once, he’d perhaps suspected Jade might have thought he was condoning it on an ongoing basis, therefore inadvertently feeding Poppy a sleeping tablet. As if she would. It was tempting. Very. But it would have been monumentally stupid, when he plainly loved Poppy, as a father should love a daughter.
Quashing a pang of jealousy twisting inside her, Jade spooned coffee into the mugs and popped a pill into Melissa’s.
She’d been hoping the chocolate might do the job. But… c’est la vie. Jade had been disappointed, naturally, but pleased for Mark, who, despite being exhausted to the point of dropping when they’d arrived home, had look so heartbreakingly relieved, Jade could have cried.
Aha, at last. Noting the postman heading for the front door, Jade took the eggs she was scrambling off the heat. She was going to feed them a hearty breakfast – and Melissa another pill – after their traumatic experience.
‘Good morning,’ she said brightly, beaming the postman a smile. He smiled delightedly back, his eyes trailing lustfully over her – as men’s eyes did – and handed her the post.
Moron, Jade thought, her smile widening nevertheless as she closed the door and looked at the envelopes, one of which contained a green document, which, if she wasn’t mistaken, was a certain speeding ticket.
Glancing quickly up the stairs, as she heard someone rising, Jade tore the envelope open, quickly scanning the contents. Oh, well done, Dylan. The man had excelled himself. Clearly, he did have a brain cell rattling around inside that dense skull of his. Jade noted the perfect location and timing of the speeding offence, which was well after she’d arrived home – courtesy of a lift to the end of the lane from ‘Call-me-Pete’ Cummings – and everyone had been tucked up in bed, apart from Mark.
Fifty-Seven
MARK
‘Morning,’ Mark said, tugging his shirt on as he came into the kitchen.
Jade, fixing them up a late breakfast, turned to smile tremulously at him. ‘Morning,’ she said quietly, and then turned sadly back to her task.
Narrowing his eyes, Mark looked her over as he walked across to the fridge for orange. ‘Something smells good.’ He nodded towards the bacon cooking under the grill.
Jade didn’t look back at him. ‘I thought something a bit more substantial might help, after spending the night at…’ She broke off, looking close to tears. I’m so sorry, Mark. I had no idea there was dairy in the hot chocolate powder. I—’
‘No… It wasn’t your fault.’
Mark ran a hand wearily through his hair as he noted a tear slide down her cheek. He’d thought… As he’d watched Mel with Poppy, not letting go of her tiny hand, not moving from her side for a second, he’d wondered just how accidental the shit that kept piling on top of them really was. His imagination had run riot. He’d got it wrong, looking for someone to blame, he guessed. There wasn’t anyone. Not even God.
Sighing, he pulled his beeping phone from his pocket to mute it, wondering only briefly why Lisa would be texting him to ‘chat’ when they’d agreed to send no texts unless it was urgent.
Jade was chopping at the mushrooms. Chopping blindly, if the now steady flow of tears was anything to judge by. ‘I prefer less salt with mine,’ he joked, attempting to lighten things.
Clearly not appreciating his efforts, Jade just cried harder, dabbing at her cheeks, before going back to the mushrooms with a vengeance.
‘I’m not into fried fingers much either,’ Mark tried.
Jade stopped chopping. ‘I’m so sorry, Mark,’ she said again, looking utterly miserable. ‘I’ll go if you want me to. I’d understand. I…’
Mark hesitated as she heaved in a breath and pressed the back of her hand to her nose, and then he reached out to tentatively wrap an arm around her shoulders. ‘I’d be in one hell of a mess if you did,’ he said truthfully.
Jade turned and buried her face in his shoulder. ‘I’m sorry,’ she repeated, with heart-wrenching anguish.
‘I think I got that.’ Awkward though he felt, Mark gave her a squeeze, and then carefully moved to put a little distance between them. ‘Poppy’s home safe now. Let’s just put it behind us, shall we?’
Jade nodded and smiled up at him. It wasn’t her usual radiant smile, but at least she didn’t look consumed with guilt any more. ‘How’s Mel?’ she asked.
‘I think she’s feeling as guilty as you seem to be, to be honest.’
Mel hadn’t actually said much while they’d waited at the hospital, but Mark had read the body language, the arms wrapped tightly around herself, seen the torment in her eyes. She didn’t need him to drive it home. ‘Stuff happens.’ He shrugged. ‘At least she’s relented a bit on the accident in the bath. I think we’ve both realised we could lose her.’
Jade looked up at him. ‘You’re a nice person, Mark Cain. Do you know that?’
‘Yeah.’ Mark smiled ruefully. ‘I only wish my wife thought I was.’ Mel hadn’t looked at him much either, apart from with sheer relief when they’d realised Poppy was going to pull through. She hadn’t come to him, ruling out any body contact between them, if only to offer each other comfort. But at least she had finally looked at him. Maybe there was hope, he thought wearily.
Reminded of his close proximity to Jade, which might be misconstrued, given Mel’s current suspicions, he moved quickly away from her.
Jade looked at him confusedly.
‘It’s probably not a great idea for Mel to see us… Well, you know,’ Mark explained, finishing clumsily. Offering Jade a reassuring smile, he prayed that they could all put this behind them, that the small improvement he’d noticed in Mel’s physical symptoms might mean they could move forwards and somehow find their way out of this nightmare.
‘I’ll take Mel’s breakfast up,’ Jade said, her smile definitely brighter as she turned back to the chopping board.
Fifty-Eight
JADE
So, they’d had a little bonding session at the hospital, had they? Well, she’d soon nip that in the bud. Jade restrained herself from banging things into the dishwasher, placing them just so, lingering over the extremely sharp knife she felt like chopping certain little fingers off with.
Spoiled, that’s what she was. A wilful, overindulged little…
‘Do we need anything?’ Mark said behind her, pulling his jacket on as he came back into the kitchen.