Page 33 of Don't Believe A Word

‘That’s good.’ After a beat he added, ‘Isn’t it?’

‘It could be, depending on what she has to say and if she actually goes through with it. Meantime, we’re heading to Exmoor at the end of the week to talk to the sisters’ old housekeeper, and, after that, we could be back in Guernsey.’ Her hands tightened on the wheel as she waited for his response. When it didn’t come she realized they’d lost the connection.

‘… still there?’ he asked, coming back on the line. ‘Can you hear me?’

‘I can now,’ and deciding not to mention Guernsey again, she said, ‘So how are things with you? It seems an age since we last spoke.’

‘That’s because it is. I’ve been trying to give you some space after the onslaught of Gaudions over Christmas. I just hadn’t realized you’d need this much.’

She gave a laugh of surprise, and relief; his words were so welcome that she almost asked him to repeat them. ‘Sorry,’ shesaid, ‘I’ve been pretty tied up with the pod since I got back, and Matthew still seems to think it’s my place to sort out his mess. Anyway, it doesn’t mean I haven’t been thinking about you because I have, a lot.’

‘Good to know.’

Suddenly afraid he might burst her bubble, without having any reason to think he would, she quickly said, ‘How’s everyone there? I had an email from Rosie all about the boyfriend, and from your mum saying she was thrilled to hear Aiden had tried out her spag bol recipe with great success.’

When he didn’t respond she realized the line had failed again, and, clocking where she was on her journey, she thought about pulling into the picnic area at the top of Tog Hill with its panoramic views of the lights of Bristol. However, as there was nothing to say the reception would be any better there, and it was a well-known dogging spot after dark, she kept going.

‘Are you still there?’ he suddenly asked.

‘Yes, I am. Sorry, this isn’t great, is it? How much did you hear, or was I just rattling away to myself?’

Laughing he said, ‘The last I got was something about spag bol.’

‘OK, moving on from that …’ It was on the tip of her tongue to ask if Juliette was still in Guernsey, but she forced herself not to, worried about how it might come out. ‘Tell you what,’ she said, ‘why don’t I call when I get home, or this is going to keep happening.’

‘Great idea, because we definitely need to talk. I’m out for dinner later, so maybe tomorrow?’

‘Sure. Tomorrow’s fine. Where are you going for dinner?’

‘Actually, it’s a place I haven’t tried before, in the Second Arrondissement.’

Realizing this meant he was in Paris the bubble burst so fast she almost hit the brakes. ‘OK, well, hope it’s good,’ she said airily, and unable to think of anything else, she ended the call, hoping he might think the line had dropped again, while not really caring what he thought.

*

By the following morning Cristy had decided that there was little point in calling David. She didn’t want an argument, or to come across as petty or jealous, or, God forbid, clingy. He had every right to be in Paris, presumably with Juliette. In fact, for all she knew they slept together regularly while still pursuing other relationships and, if that was the case, it wasn’t for her. Best to let it go now before she got in any deeper.

He rang as she was passing the M Shed Museum on Prince’s Wharf, while walking into work. It was a bitterly cold morning, with icy patches glittering on the water and bright sunlight dazzling the puddled walkways.

‘Too early?’ he asked when she answered.

‘No, it’s fine,’ she replied, slipping the phone inside her hat. ‘How are you? Good dinner last night?’

‘Not bad. We’d probably go again.’

Tensing at the ‘we’ she decided to come right to the point and said, abruptly, ‘Are you and Juliette …? Are you sleeping with her?’ Not exactly how she’d meant it to come out, but it was there now and he wasn’t bloody well saying anything.

‘OK, not answering is answer enough,’ she said, ready to ring off.

‘Hang on, hang on,’ he cut in angrily. ‘Before you start making assumptions, or rushing to judgements, tell me this, have you slept with Matthew since you … since he left you?’

Taking that as an admission on his part, and since she was in no position to deny anything after the night Aiden had cooked for her and Matthew – unless she wanted to get into an explanation of how nothing had actually happened, and she didn’t – she said, tartly, ‘You’re just digging yourself in deeper with that question, but it’s OK. I’m not your keeper. You are free to do whatever you please with whoever you please. I just wish you’d been a bit more honest about it and not made me drag it out of you …’

‘For God’s sake, Cristy! I don’t know what’s got into you. I thought everything was good between us …’

‘As did I until you …’

‘… then Matthew gets himself into trouble, and suddenly you change. It became all about him …’