‌Day Minus Thirteen, 20:40‌
Todd gets into his car, revs the engine and drives away, leaving Jen alone in the dark bathroom, her knees damp from the water sitting on the side.
See you at home.
The person on the end of that phone is Kelly.
Ask Nicola.
Kelly knows Nicola. Not Todd. Todd wasn’t lying when he was introduced to her.
I almost called your secret phone.
It is Kelly to whom the burner phone belongs. It is Kelly who texted Nicola.
‘You were just on the phone to Todd,’ Jen says the second she storms through the front door. Todd isn’t home yet. Perhaps he caught up with Clio again. And Jen can’t wait. Who cares? She has no tomorrow. She’s got to ask him now.
Kelly is wearing faded jeans and a white T-shirt. He is sitting on their velvet sofa. They put it in the bay window in their living room. It fits exactly, not even a centimetre of wiggle room. They had laughed so much as they tried to thump it into place. Kelly had suggested they use lube and Jen hadn’t been able to stop giggling.
She drops her handbag on to the wooden floor. The house is quiet, the lamps on low.
Kelly apparently needs a moment to think. Those three seconds break Jen’s fucking heart.
‘I know he’s involved in something dodgy – and so do you,’ she says.
Evidently, Kelly decides to go for an outright denial. ‘He’s having women trouble.’ Kelly’s eyes don’t change at all as he speaks these words, these lies. ‘Jen?’ He reaches for her.
‘I heard you,’ she says. ‘We talked about Clio.’ ‘Who’s Nicola?’
‘What? I don’t know a Nicola.’
‘Kelly,’ she says, the word exploding out of her. ‘I know you know them.
Who is Joseph Jones?’
‘No idea,’ Kelly says quickly, not missing a beat. He busies himself, standing and turning on the overhead light, her enigmatic husband.
Mysterious – or a liar? ‘Sorry – I don’t know what you mean?’ he says, turning to her.
As he does, she sees the glimmer of sweat around his hairline catching
the light for just a second. ‘I know you’re lying,’ she says to his back as he begins to retreat again. Now he’s putting shoes on, a coat.
‘This is not up for discussion,’ he says. He opens the front door and leaves the house, the frame shaking as he slams it behind him.
