There was a heavy weight on Molly’s chest. Panicking, she tried to push it off but she was caught under it and couldn’t free herself. Gasping, she made one last effort, gave a firm push and felt the weight move. And then she was free – and immediately cold.
Opening her eyes, she saw the duvet she’d pushed to the floor. She’d been dreaming. How long she’d been asleep, she’d no idea, but it was almost dark, the room lit only by the street lights outside. She remembered thinking that Amelia had poisoned her and shut her eyes, opening them quickly when she realised, she’d still been there when she’d… what? Fallen asleep or collapsed?
Pushing up onto her elbows, Molly listened. There wasn’t a sound to be heard. She reached for the lamp and clicked it on to look at her watch. Almost six. It would have been easier to stay where she was, but with a grunt she swung her feet to the floor and stood, keeping her hand on the bedhead until she was sure she wasn’t feeling dizzy.
Letting out a breath, she rolled her shoulders. She felt better. Whatever they’d given her in the hospital had obviously worked its way out of her system. The idea that Amelia had tried to poison her, had been involved with Pleasant, surely it was all a product of her overtired and overstressed mind. Molly switched on the landing light and headed down the stairs. The door to the living room was shut but she could see a rim of light around the edges. Maybe Jack was home. Molly took a deep breath before she twisted the knob and quietly pushed open the door.
Amelia was sitting with her back to her. She had a magazine in her hands, legs crossed, one foot bouncing lazily.
‘Hi,’ Molly said.
The magazine went flying and landed on the floor with a loud smack. ‘Bloody hell, you scared the wits out of me.’
‘Sorry,’ Molly said automatically even as she thought there you go again with that bloody useless word. ‘I fell asleep.’
Amelia picked up the magazine and threw it onto the coffee table before going over to her. ‘You didn’t fall asleep,’ she said, ‘you passed out. There’s a difference.’
‘The medication the hospital gave me obviously didn’t agree with me.’ Molly dredged up a smile. ‘I feel better after that sleep.’
‘Well, you look awful. Come and sit down. I’ll make you a cup of tea.’
Molly sat and listened as the kettle was filled and switched on. She seemed to be drinking a lot of tea and coffee these days.
Minutes later, a mug was put on the table in front of her.
‘I really need to go,’ Amelia said, checking her watch. ‘I’m way overdue at a meeting.’
‘Go, please, I’ll be fine.’ The suspicion of Amelia still lurked; Molly didn’t want whatever was in the mug, and certainly wasn’t going to drink it, but picking it up allowed her to switch her focus to it and hide her mistrust.
‘Jack will be back soon, won’t he? So, you will be okay.’
Looking up, Molly gripped the mug more tightly. ‘Yes, of course.’
Amelia didn’t look convinced. ‘Maybe I should wait until he’s here?’
‘No please, go. I’m sure he’ll be home soon. I’m going to finish my tea, then lie back and probably sleep again.’
‘If you’re sure.’ Amelia picked up her coat and slipped it on.
Molly listened as Amelia’s footsteps crossed the hall, the front door opened then closed. Finally, silence. Standing, Molly took the tea and threw it down the sink. What if she’d been right, that Amelia, for whatever reason, was trying to kill her? It was preposterous, ridiculous, but the truth was someone had tried. They’d failed. Wasn’t it logical they’d try again?
Molly turned the tap on to wash all traces away. Rinsing out her mug, she spooned coffee in and filled it from the kettle.
‘Damn,’ she said, turning to stare into the sink. She should have kept it and given it to the inspector to have analysed. It would have confirmed her suspicion or set her mind at rest. Either would have been good. He’d probably have thought she was barking mad, but she wouldn’t have cared. But it was too late.
She was considering whether she should ring the inspector and keep him up to date when the sound of the front door opening startled her, eyes wide and staring as she listened to the sound of heavy footsteps approaching the kitchen door. Panicking, she looked around, her hand reaching for the biggest knife attached to the magnetic strip on the wall. As she grabbed it, her hand slipped and the knife clattered onto the counter.
‘Hi.’
Jack’s voice. Of course, it was Jack. Letting her breath out in a whoosh, she turned and almost ran to him, feeling his arms close around her. Ignoring the twinge from her broken rib, she snuggled deeper into him as if to burrow for safety.
‘You’re okay,’ he whispered into her hair. Resting his chin on her head, he continued to hold her.
In the safe circle of his arms, the trembling eased and the fear faded a little. After a few minutes, she pulled back and looked at him. ‘Can you ever forgive me?’ She kept her eyes fixed on his; she could tell so much from the light that glinted in them, sometimes baby-blue soft, sometimes almost steely-grey. When they turned soft, when he bent his head and planted a gentle kiss on her lips, she felt a release of the tension that was wound so tight it hurt more than her broken rib.
‘What choice do I have?’
She’d have preferred a straightforward yes, but she wasn’t in a situation where she could be picky. ‘Thank you,’ she said, resting her head on his shoulder.
‘Are you feeling okay?’ he asked, pushing her away gently. He took off his coat and draped it over the back of a chair. ‘You look so pale.’
‘I was feeling awful. Amelia had to–’
‘Amelia?’ he interrupted. ‘What the hell was she doing here?’
Molly moved to the sofa and sat, her movements slow and laboured. Her side was painful, she needed to take more painkillers. ‘She called around when she heard about the accident. We had tea and talked. Afterwards, I was feeling so weak, she had to help me up the stairs.’
There was no point in telling him that Amelia had made the tea and that she was afraid she might have put something in it. He’d think she was crazy.
‘You look pale and tired,’ Jack said. ‘How about we go out somewhere for something to eat? A nice meal would be good for you.’
She put her hand over his. ‘The police said I should stay indoors to be safe.’
He pulled away and shook his head. ‘How long are we going to have to live like this? It’s crazy. Why would anyone want to murder you? I’d say you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. The police are making a huge leap in connecting your accident to the death of that man.’
She shut her eyes for a moment, trying to get her head clear. ‘They said they don’t believe in coincidences,’ she said eventually, but Jack had gone to the fridge.
‘Hang on,’ he said, as he peered inside it. Shutting it, he took out his mobile. ‘The fridge has milk, beer, and not a lot else. I’ll order a takeaway. What would you like?’
‘Indian, the usual dishes,’ she said automatically, wondering why he bothered to ask. In all the years, they’d never ordered anything else. He rang it through as she sat staring at him, a slight frown between her eyes, her concerns about her own predicament fading a little as she took in his pallor.
He took the seat beside her again. ‘Now, what were you saying?’
What had she been saying? She shook her head in frustration. ‘I can’t remember.’
He leaned forward and planted a kiss on her cheek. ‘Try to stop worrying. Have you heard from the kids today?’
‘Just messages.’ She smiled. ‘They’re really busy. I’m going to try to Skype them tomorrow, it would be nice to see them. They seem to have settled down, both mentioned friends they were meeting.’
‘Good,’ he said, echoing her smile. ‘I’m going to get out of my suit. The meal will be here in ten. If the doorbell rings, leave it, and I’ll come down, okay?’
She reached a hand out, felt it clasped in his. ‘I won’t move.’
He raised her hand to his lips and gave it a kiss. ‘Good, I’m going to spoil you until you’re better.’
She was still smiling as she heard his step on the stairs. They’d be fine. Whatever was going on would be sorted and they’d get back on track. As for her suspicions, either the meds they’d given her in the hospital or the bang to her head were making her imagine things and jump to ridiculous conclusions.
The police would do their job and things would return to normal. Then she remembered something. Before she’d passed out, she clearly remembered asking Amelia why she’d mentioned Pleasant’s amazing brown eyes. She’d never answered.
Maybe Molly was overthinking it all. Or maybe she was right, maybe Amelia and Lucien Pleasant weren’t strangers at all. Taking out the inspector’s card, she took her phone and put his number in under a speed dial key. With one stroke she could contact him.
She wished it made her feel safer.