‘We could go for lunch at the Canalside Café, if you fancy it,’ Anna suggested, and Luke’s heart dropped.
‘Anna, I have something work-related on,’ he reminded her. ‘A property to look at, remember?’
‘Oh.’ Her expression was a mixture of hurt and disappointment, and Luke wondered again what the hell he was doing. Seeing the crushing pain in Claire’s eyes when he’d declined to hand her his phone, he’d felt like the biggest shit that ever walked the earth. How could he have shown it to her, though, when Anna had texted him: Good luck. I hope your wife’s not too hard on you. Her timing couldn’t have been worse. He’d been desperate to talk to Claire, hoping she might give him the chance to explain. He didn’t get that chance before his phone started pinging with messages.
He’d read the bloody things once he’d left. How did it go? was the next one she’d sent, followed by I’m really sorry I kissed you in public. I should have thought that someone you know might see us.
He’d have stood no chance if Claire had read those. The next text had jolted him. He was outside the apartment when I went out just now. He said if I tell tales to the police he’ll kill me. He means it, Luke. I don’t think I can do this. I’m terrified. I don’t want to live like this.
It’s not your problem, he’d told himself. Tried hard to convince himself he should have nothing to do with it. But how could he not? From what he knew, there was no one else she could turn to. The fucker who’d hurt her might still be hanging around her apartment, and she was inside on her own. Feeling suicidal? He wasn’t sure that was what she’d meant, but when her phone had gone repeatedly to voicemail… What kind of man would he be if he walked away from that? He should have damn well called the police. Would have but for the thought that he might be placing her in further danger.
She’d texted and called him constantly since. And no matter how hard he tried to convince himself she would be okay, still he dropped what he was doing and came over when she asked him to. Because he was scared too. Because he felt responsible and wasn’t sure he could live with it if he didn’t turn up and then found out she’d taken her own life.
He shouldn’t be here now; it was sending out the wrong messages. His hope was to persuade her to get some sort of counselling, to enlist the help of the police, but meanwhile, he felt he’d no choice but to be around for her. He had no way to explain any of this to Claire, as if she would want to hear it. He just hoped she was coping. She’d answer with a short ‘Fine’ when he asked her how she was. He doubted that was true. Prayed she wasn’t drinking too much. She never had in the past, but recently he’d noticed too many glasses left about with wine dregs in the bottom, which worried him. He was concerned she wouldn’t hear Ella if she got up in the night. And with Bernard wandering aimlessly about…
‘Pickle?’ Anna said.
‘Sorry?’ Luke realised he’d been miles away.
‘In your cheese sandwich. You can’t go off to a building site without any lunch.’ She walked from the kitchen to the lounge area, butter knife in hand.
Luke groaned inside. ‘Anna, I really do need to go,’ he said apologetically.
‘Oh,’ she said, eyes flicking down, disappointed. ‘Not to worry. I can always put it in the fridge. It will keep. Do you fancy going to the pub later?’ she asked, returning to the kitchen. ‘There’s a live band on.’
Luke was about to test the waters, see how she would react if he said he might not be able to get back later, when she went on: ‘I’ve got my doctor’s appointment this evening. I thought maybe we could meet up afterwards.’
‘Doctor’s appointment?’ Luke felt hope leap in his chest.
Anna gave him a smile over her shoulder. ‘He’s going to refer me to a counsellor.’
Thank God. Luke’s relief was considerable.
‘So? Do you fancy it? We could have a quick bite to eat and then go on there.’
‘Er, yes. Why not?’ He tried to inject some enthusiasm into his voice.
‘Brilliant.’ Anna sounded pleased. ‘How’s your little girl, by the way?’ she asked, as Luke collected his car keys from the coffee table and glanced around for his phone.
‘Okay, I think,’ he answered evasively. ‘Confused, obviously.’
‘Poor thing. She’s bound to be,’ Anna said with an understanding sigh. ‘You’ll have to bring her round soon. We’ll take her on a nice day out or something. Cheer her up a bit. I’m actually quite good with children.’
‘Yeah.’ Luke wasn’t so sure about that. ‘I’ll have a word with Claire, check her schedule and see if we can organise something.’
‘Is Claire doing okay?’ Anna enquired. ‘Coping with her dad, I mean. It must be really hard on her with him declining so rapidly.’
‘It is.’ Luke really wished she wouldn’t keep asking about Claire – she felt guilty, she said, blaming herself for the situation he was in.
‘She should probably think about a care home,’ she went on. ‘I know she’s done her best, but with little Ella to look after, she—’
‘Crap!’ Luke said over her. The care home! Please God tell me that’s not today.
‘Problem?’ Anna came back to the lounge.
‘Major,’ Luke said, now searching under cushions and down the sides of the sofa for his phone. ‘I’m supposed to be looking after Ella today. I bloody well forgot.’
How could he have? Because he was hardly getting any sleep at Steve’s place, which wasn’t conducive to a restful night since they’d just got married and the walls were thin, and he’d forgotten what the date was. Why hadn’t Claire called or texted him?
Feeling frantic, he glanced around the room again. ‘Haven’t seen my phone, have you?’
‘On the kitchen table.’ Anna nodded towards it.
‘Cheers.’ Luke walked past her, picked it up and checked urgently for missed calls, finding several, as well as texts. What the…? His jaw tensing, he glanced back at Anna. ‘You put it on silent?’
Her face flushed with guilt. ‘You were dozing. You looked so tired, I thought I would let you sleep,’ she said. ‘I didn’t realise you were expecting a call. You should have said. I would never have muted it if—’
‘Forget it. It doesn’t matter.’ Luke tried to keep his immense agitation from his voice. He had said. He’d told her specifically that he never muted his phone. He had a four-year-old daughter, for Christ’s sake. Anna was aware that Claire might need to call him at short notice. He needed to be contactable at all times. ‘I have to go.’
‘But you’re coming back later?’ Her voice sounding tremulous, Anna stepped towards him as he collected his jacket.
Luke sucked in a tight breath. He was sorely tempted to say no. But how could he, when he might end up receiving a call from the hospital telling him God only knew what?
‘I don’t know. Claire might need me,’ he said instead. He had no idea how she would get through today. If he hadn’t messed everything up, he would have been going to the care home with her. As it was, she’d said she didn’t want him there. She would be devastated, going back to that empty house on her own.
‘Right. Of course she might. She is your wife, after all. I’m sure you’d rather be with her than here. You go. I’ll be fine.’
Oh no… Hearing the quaver in Anna’s voice as he headed for the door, Luke’s heart slid to the pit of his stomach. ‘Anna, don’t,’ he said, turning back to see her wiping a tear from her cheek. ‘I have to go. I have to be there for Ella.’
‘Go,’ Anna urged him. ‘I’ve said I’ll be fine. I don’t want you here because you feel responsible for me. That’s the absolute last thing I want. I actually thought that we…’ She stopped, drawing in a shaky breath. ‘Just go, Luke, please. You won’t receive any texts from me, I promise.’
Shit. Luke watched helplessly as she hurried to the bedroom. Bracing himself, he followed her, heard a sob catch in her throat as she headed across to the en suite, closing the door behind her.
Now what did he do? Could she not see that he did feel responsible? Don’t lock the door. Swallowing hard, he prayed fervently. There was no way he could walk out of here and leave her if she did. Please don’t lock the door.