Page 37 of The Good Girl

Chapter Thirty-Six

The golf club’s function room was decorated with soft white linen and polished silverware, like a wedding or a christening, or a farewell party, and the crassness of it made Molly’s stomach churn.

The grief that had earlier clung to the mourners like smoke, had dissipated, floating off and mingling with the scent of perfume and trays of canapés.

Conversations ebbed and flowed, low murmurs, the occasional ripple of laughter, the uncomfortable shuffle of guests who passed by not knowing what to say.

They had pushed the boat out in grand style for Julia because a luxury liner was what she deserved and that’s what she was getting.

Champagne cocktails, her favourite dishes, the desserts she could never say no to even though they’d mean an extra hour in the gym the next day.

Compiling the list of foods for the menu had been one of those bittersweet tasks that had given them the freedom to reminisce, bringing Julia into the room as though she were catering for one of her grand soirées, or Molly’s farewell party.

That thought was swiftly shut down, although Molly had a feeling it had been on Magda and Nancy’s mind, too.

Dee had gone outside with their gran and granddad for some fresh air and everyone else was at the buffet or bar. She had been joined by her three close friends, Jilly and Rolo, and Phoebe.

Ever since Molly could remember, the three of them had been regular visitors at home, sleepover buddies and pool party stalwarts.

Julia had always welcomed them with open arms, and had a soft spot for Rolo, the only boy in the group who boarded at school.

His mum, a local MP, was often overseas and Julia took shy Rolo under her wing as did Magda who fussed and spoiled him.

It was Rolo who broke the awkward silence between them all as they sipped drinks, nobody knowing what to say.

‘I wrote a special note for your mum, and put it inside my flowers… just, just saying thank you for always looking out for me and being so kind. She was so nice, even when we tramped wet footprints through the house or made a mess in the kitchen.’

Rolo’s cheeks went a bit pink and it made him look even more sweet and endearing than normal. No wonder Mum took a shine to him , Molly thought as Phoebe found her voice.

‘It’s true. Julia had the patience of a saint with us, didn’t she? I’m going to miss her a lot. We all will.’

Jilly went next. ‘I don’t think I’ve seen her since bonfire night, when we came round for fireworks and then before that… I can’t remember, but anyway, I wish I’d seen her one last time…’

Molly felt her mood dip, and perhaps it showed in her expression that Jilly’s words once again highlighted how much of her life she’d given up, neglected, for Shane.

Up until her sixteenth birthday, her three friends had been the focus of her life, never apart, texting, calling, hanging out and then gradually Shane had somehow managed to keep her home, on call, 24/7.

Christ, how she hated him and herself. Wanted to slap her own face so hard it left a big stinging handprint.

Her face flushed, as though she’d said the wrong thing. Jilly grabbed Rolo’s hand and said, ‘Come on you. Let’s go and grab some food. Molly, do you want us to bring you something?’

Molly shook her head but managed a smile then watched as the two of them shot off, weaving through the black crow guests.

As soon as they were out of sight, Phoebe took Molly’s hand and said, ‘It’s really hard to know what to say, isn’t it, at times like this. I’m always scared of putting my foot in it.’

‘It is, and I get it. I don’t know what to say about all of this either because I feel like I’ve woken up in someone else’s bad dream.

So if you fancy giving me a really good shake so my eyeballs rattle and wake me up, I’d be really grateful.

’ Molly turned to Phoebe whose sad expression mirrored her own.

‘Maybe we should talk about something else, anything will do, just not… this.’ Molly jerked her head towards the rest of the room where life, eating and drinking and chatting, was all going on without her mum.

Not being shy at the best of times, and seizing the opportunity, Phoebe whispered, ‘I’ve been wanting to ask, is he here? Your bloke.’

Immediately Molly stiffened and pulled away her hand, regretting her suggestion which made her reply harsher than she meant it to be. ‘No. He’s not and anyway it’s over. I ended it so I’d rather not talk about him anymore.’

‘Sorry, sorry, Molls, that was insensitive of me… I just wanted to…’

Feeling bad, Molly re-took her hand. ‘No, I’m sorry, Pheebs.

I didn’t mean to snap at you. Look, why don’t you go and get some food while I go and find my grandparents and Dee and check they’re okay.

Then I’ll meet you back here. Get me a vodka and Coke, make it a big fat double. I’ll only be a few minutes.’

Before Phoebe could respond, Molly stood and after a quick hand squeeze, she left her friend at the table and set off in search of her family.

Her gran had been inconsolable for most of the morning, repeating to anyone she spoke to that it should have been her instead of Julia.

‘No mother should have to bury her child,’ she’d sobbed, over and over.

The refrain drilled itself into Molly’s bones and became unbearable. So she had no intention of seeking her gran out and was glad when she’d buggered off, grateful for the solitude in her quiet corner.

The room was crowded as Molly wove her way through, not making eye contact with anyone.

Most of the staff from ClearGlass had come, the old guard and new hires alike.

They lined the buffet tables, stood in clusters, or circled the bar like moths to flame.

When she reached the door, Molly turned and stepped to one side so she could observe them all.

Her eyes swept the room like a scanner, ticking off potential suspects in silence.

Who was it? Who was the woman Shane had been sleeping with?

She had narrowed it down to a handful of possibilities.

The new admin assistant, brunette, mid-thirties, always perfectly made-up.

One of the two receptionists who he said used to giggle when he walked past, using that little teaser to compare Molly who was far more mature. Or was it to keep her on her toes?

Oh what a big stupid sponge she’d been. Sucking in his praise and taking the bait, gobbling up in more ways than one the dangly worm of jealousy he’d placed so adeptly before her.

What about the depot manager with the athletic build and blue pixie hair-do? No, not feminine enough for Shane. Molly observed everyone in the room, disqualifying them one by one as she watched for a glance too long, a whisper too soft. Nothing. Just polite chat and a plate full of posh-nosh.

At the bar, Shane was holding court. He’d been drinking steadily since their arrival. Jack Daniels, his favourite tipple. He laughed too loud, patted too many backs, and threw his arm around people with a familiarity that made Molly cringe. She watched him with growing unease.

She glanced to the far side of the room where Nancy moved gracefully from group to group, thanking people for coming, accepting kind words with composure she wore like armour. Nancy had been her lifeline. Strong, calm, unflinching. Molly adored her.

They had already discussed what came next.

After the reading of the will, Nancy would fly to Toronto at the weekend, to make some personal arrangements.

But before that, a request. Nancy had told Molly she wanted a private chat, away from the house, about the contents of the will and other matters.

Molly’s curiosity had piqued but trusted her aunt when she said it was better to wait until they’d got the funeral out of the way.

Tensions were high enough as it was and she didn’t want to make things worse.

And she was right. Getting through today had been hard enough so whatever Nancy wanted to tell her could wait. Molly was adept at waiting her turn.

One thing she did know was that, once the will was read, Nancy and Molly were going to ask Shane to leave.

Which was why Magda was going to stay at the house and help look after Dee and keep Molly company when Nancy was in Toronto.

A battle was on the horizon and the thought of it made her feel sick with nerves, terrified that at any moment Shane might expose her and she would die, right there on the spot, poisoned by shame.

Dee was the bigger worry, though. Withdrawn, temperamental, refusing to eat some days, avoiding showers, pacing her room.

There were nights she cried so hard Molly had to lie beside her, stroking her hair until she calmed.

And then there was the night Molly had found Shane sitting on the edge of Dee’s bed, murmuring soft words in the dark.

He’d said he was comforting her, but Dee wouldn’t look Molly in the eye.

That moment haunted her.

Nancy had agreed that Shane needed to go. They had to keep Dee safe and out of his clutches because they feared he was using her fragile state to get her on side. Psychiatric help might be necessary but they were holding off until Nancy returned from Canada.

Molly’s head was wired, like a fizzing, sparking jumble of thoughts and doubts and fears and confusion.

She had to get away, find some fresh air.

Or at least take a break from the eyes of everyone in the room.

As she walked toward the ladies’ room, she passed through the lobby where Magda and Erik were chatting to Harley, Magda’s nineteen-year-old niece and one of Molly’s non-school friends.

Even though they weren’t from the same circle, they’d know each other all their lives through Magda. They’d spent sunny summer holidays as kids playing in the back garden at Molly’s and in their teenage years, meeting on the village park to drink cider and check out boys.

A year ahead of Molly, Harley attended the local secondary school and during that time Julia had fixed her up with work experience and once she left, found Harley a job in the offices at ClearGlass.

Molly had always liked Harley and often wished they’d been closer but so many things prevented that, an ugly class divide for a start, and when she turned sixteen, one thing or person in particular.

Still, they had a connection and seeing her old paddling-pool-pal, Molly smiled warmly at Harley who, on seeing Molly, immediately looked uncomfortable, nervously adjusting the hem of her black dress.

‘Hey, I wondered where you were,’ Molly said, ignoring the weird vibe.

‘We have been taking some air,’ Erik said, his voice quiet.

‘We were sat with Dee and your grandparents outside,’ Magda added, brushing a strand of insipid pink hair from her eyes that were still bloodshot from the funeral.

‘Thank you,’ Molly replied, her voice catching slightly. ‘For looking after them.’

Harley offered a small smile, eyes downcast. Her arms were crossed over her middle, twiddling the silver rings on her fingers. They exchanged a few more pleasantries about the weather and attendance, the vicar’s cold and impartial speech, the atmosphere both awkward and sincere.

Then, from the corner of her eye, Molly saw Shane approaching. He moved slowly, weaving slightly. His face was flushed, eyes glassy.

‘Magda,’ he said, nodding. ‘Erik. Harley. Good to see you.’ His speech was careful but slurred just enough to betray the JD on his breath.

As he passed, he reached out, just briefly, and placed his hand on Harley’s shoulder.

To anyone else, it would have looked like a gesture of balance, or drunken unsteadiness.

But to Molly, it was something else. The action was visually familiar.

The same way he used to touch her when they were in company. Light. Possessive. A secret signal.

Harley froze. A deep crimson blush spread from her neck to her cheeks, leaving a port stain on her chest. She cast her eyes downward, as if trying to disappear.

Shane moved on, disappearing down the corridor toward the toilets.

The moment was over in seconds, but its meaning was impossible for Molly to ignore.

She stood rooted, her pulse thudding in her ears.

Harley is ‘babe’.

It hit her like a punch. That person on the phone. The panicked cover story. The lie about being with a woman who worked at ClearGlass. Harley. Nineteen.

Magda didn’t seem to have noticed. She was chatting softly with Erik, fatigue, the toll of the day and past events evident in her body language. Molly tried to compose herself, to breathe. But Harley’s reaction had said everything and now she’d turned sickly white.

Molly turned to the girl. ‘Are you okay?’

Harley looked up, startled. ‘Yes. I’m fine, how are you coping?’

‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’ Molly wasn’t giving an inch.

Harley gave a nervous laugh. ‘I hate funerals and seeing Aunty Magda so upset.’

‘Hmm, yes. She’s taking it hard, isn’t she?

Right then, I’ll go find the others. Please make sure you get something to eat and drink.

’ Molly assumed hostess mode and didn’t press.

It provided a shield and allowed her to walk away head held high, but with each solid step her mind was already spinning out of control.

She didn’t know what she was going to do, yet. But she knew she had to do something. Not out of jealousy, either. That ship had sailed. Because Shane was dangerous. And now he was circling someone else. Someone young who could potentially end up like Molly. Riddled with bitterness and regret.