Page 16 of The Good Girl

Chapter Fifteen

The kitchen was filled with late afternoon sunshine that highlighted the intricate grain of the long oak table that had served a thousand family meals and witnessed just as many arguments.

The air carried the faint scent of basil from the pot on the windowsill and the comforting aroma of Magda’s freshly baked apple cake, still cooling on a wire rack.

Julia stood barefoot, one hip resting against the Aga, sleeves pushed up, a glass of water in her hand.

While she’d been taking a nap to fend off her fake migraine, Molly had left to meet her friends and now, Julia felt the need for company.

Across from her, Magda was chopping salad vegetables, her movements rhythmic and steady.

There was something so grounding about Magda’s presence, solid, unflustered, entirely unpretentious.

For over two decades, she had been the calm at the centre of the storm, not just a housekeeper, but something closer to family.

They were talking about the party. Or rather, Magda was talking, and Julia was listening, nodding occasionally, smiling when she could manage it.

‘Erik has bought a new shirt,’ Magda said with a grin. ‘He wants to look smart for your friends. And he keeps asking if there will be dancing. I told him this is England, not a Polish wedding.’

Julia chuckled softly. ‘He’ll dance anyway. Erik always does, which I like, so please don’t clip his wings.’

‘I won’t, as long as he doesn’t start to sing. I am not putting up with that.’

Julia sipped her water and leaned back slightly.

‘You know, I’m half dreading it. The party.

I know it’s for Molly, and she deserves a proper send-off, but I can already feel a headache coming on just at the thought of it all.

I wish I’d listened to her and let her have a quiet dinner with her friends. ’

Magda raised an eyebrow, pausing with the knife. ‘Too many people? Or too much pretending?’

Julia gave a small smile. ‘Both.’

There was a soft mechanical click. The door leading from the gym corridor creaked open. Shane appeared, and with him came an instant shift in the atmosphere, subtle, but unmistakable. Like someone had turned the thermostat down a few degrees. The kitchen no longer felt quite so warm or welcoming.

His face was thunderous, jaw set, eyes dark.

He didn’t look at either of them. Just moved through the space like a man being pursued by his own demon.

He opened the fridge with a yank, the bottles inside rattling against one another, grabbed a water, and slammed the door shut hard enough that the basil leaves on the windowsill trembled.

‘Afternoon,’ Julia offered, her voice deliberately neutral. ‘I see you didn’t bother going into work today or have you taken a holiday?’ It was just another example of Shane doing what he wanted and it irked her that he thought his behaviour was acceptable.

He didn’t respond. Just stared for a beat. Took a long swig from the bottle, then walked straight past them and up the stairs, his footsteps like hammer blows on the floating glass. The silence that followed was awkward even between good friends.

Magda placed the knife down carefully, wiping her hands on her apron. ‘What is it now?’

Julia exhaled slowly, keeping her gaze on the floor. ‘No idea. He’s been like that on and off all week. Sullen or sarky. Like he can’t make his mind up which one he prefers to be.’

Magda watched the staircase, eyes narrowed. ‘It was worse than usual. That wasn’t sulking. He looked very annoyed.’

Julia said nothing.

‘I don’t like it when men behave like that. It isn’t nice, Julia, not nice at all.’

‘He’ll get over it,’ Julia said quietly, though even as she said it, her stomach twisted slightly.

‘I hope so. Please keep out of his way until he goes out. Dee told me he’s off on a work trip and I am glad. I wonder where she’s got to? She was here earlier, telling me about your girls’ night.’

The kettle clicked off, forgotten. Julia looked at her phone and checked the Ring app and saw that Dee had left not long after Molly. ‘That’s odd. Dee’s gone out without saying hi or goodbye… did she say where she was going?’

‘No, nothing. And she knows to tell me if she goes out, naughty girl,’ Magda huffed. ‘I think I will stay here a little longer, until he goes out. It will make me feel better.’

‘It’s fine,’ Julia replied, forcing a smile that didn’t connect with her eyes. ‘Go. Erik will be waiting and I’ll finish up here.’

‘Julia… Shane didn’t look right. I’m worried and you’ll be here alone.’

Julia turned, facing her friend fully. ‘Honestly I’ll be fine and I’ll ring Dee and see when she’ll be home so please don’t fret. Get off early, enjoy the sun.’

They stood like that for a moment, both listening to doors slam up above.

‘Stressed men drink. They get angry and hit,’ Magda said.

Julia swallowed. ‘He’s never hit me and I know he wouldn’t. He’s not like that.’

‘Yet.’

Another silence.

Julia turned and opened the wine fridge and grabbed the first bottle she saw, placed it on the counter and undid it with a swift twist before pouring a generous glass.

Her hand trembled slightly. The pressure of everything was suddenly building up and the last thing she needed was an audience if she and Shane had a row.

‘I promise I’ll be fine, Magda. Go. I’ll text you if I need you. ’

Magda lingered another moment, then stepped close and kissed Julia on the cheek. Her hands were warm. ‘Call me. Anything happens. Day or night.’

Julia nodded. She watched her go, listened to the door close behind her.

Now the kitchen felt cavernous. She drained the glass in a single gulp, set it down, and reached for the bottle again.

One large refill and another couple of glugs later, she felt the alcohol going to her head so left both glass and bottle on the counter.

A bath. That’s what she needed. Heat and silence and maybe later, another glass, and by the time she came out of her room, perhaps Shane would be gone.

She wandered barefoot across the tiles, the slap of her own footsteps unnerving in the hush.

She paused at the bottom of the floating glass staircase, staring up.

The air felt cooler, as if the temperature dipped the higher she went.

It was always like that when he was in one of his moods, the ones he saved for when the girls were out.

It was part of his power play, a threatening silence ramped up by heavy drinking and cocky stares.

Which was why Julia was glad he was going to Glasgow even if there was a chance he’d be meeting his bit on the side there.

She climbed slowly. Each step felt deliberate.

She turned right and made her way to the end of the corridor where two doors led to her private suite and the roof terrace.

She passed the gallery of photographs lining the way.

Smiles, holidays, birthdays, a family in still life.

The images had started to look unfamiliar now.

Like someone else’s story. A bygone time she could barely remember, so clouded by the present that it distorted her memories.

She hated that and it made her even more determined to regain control of her life.

For a moment she considered going up to the terrace where she could breathe in the fresh air and look out over the Cheshire hills.

But she was too weary to make the climb and the lure of a warm soak in bubbles won the day.

She opened the door to her suite, climbed the steep stairs and at the top, stepped into her sanctuary.

Breathed in the place where his voice never reached.

The space, a sitting room, bedroom with double dressing room and his and hers bathrooms ran the length of the top floor.

Julia looked around the perfect place, designed by her and Ronnie to be their hidey-hole.

There was a small balcony accessed by French doors, totally private from the roof terrace above.

Moving across the sitting room that held two russet velvet sofas and armchairs arranged around a low coffee table, Julia flung open the doors to allow in the balmy afternoon air. The bathroom called to her, the thought of running water and L’Occitane already soothing her tense body and mind.