Girl A, Dan Scottow [best short books to read .TXT] 📗

He crossed to the hall cupboard and opened it, taking out his leather jacket, sliding it on.

‘Right,’ he said chirpily, ‘I’m off to work. You going to be okay?’

Beth hugged her husband. ‘Yeah. I’ll be fine. I wish you weren’t working on a Saturday though.’

‘It’s only for a few hours. I’ll be back after lunch. I’ve got to tie a couple of things up at the office before Monday.’

He kissed her and walked towards the front door. Without another look he was away.

Daisy was playing with Cooper in the garden; aside from that the house was quiet. Beth headed upstairs for a shower.

* * *

Peter lay on his bed in a pair of grubby white Calvin Klein pants. Unable to get to sleep, he listened to the sound of the shower running from his parent’s en suite. A few minutes later the noise of footsteps padding down the stairs. He jumped up, opening the door and hurrying out onto the landing. ‘Are you going out, Mum?’ he shouted.

‘Yeah, I’m popping into town for a bit,’ Beth replied.

‘Can you hold on? I’ll grab a lift with you. Just need to throw some clothes on.’

He hurried back into his room, without waiting for a reply, pulling on a plain, black T-shirt, and a pair of baggy jeans with large rips in both knees. He rushed down the stairs into the kitchen.

‘Have you had a shower?’ Beth nagged, sniffing her son as he passed her.

‘Nah, don’t need one,’ he replied, heading out of the front door.

Beth shook her head, following behind him.

They drove into town with Daisy and Peter arguing for most of the thirty-minute journey. Beth pulled up in a parking bay and the kids jumped out onto the pavement.

‘How long you going to be, Mum? I’ve got to pop to the record shop. There’s some new vinyl I want.’

‘Don’t know, Peter, call me when you’re done.’ She pulled her phone out of her bag, checking her battery.

‘Can I go with Peter?’ Daisy asked.

‘No!’ Peter protested. Beth shot him a scolding look.

‘Please, Petey?’ Daisy’s tone indicated a tantrum was imminent. Beth mouthed please to her son.

‘Fine,’ Peter said sulkily.

‘Don’t let her out of your sight,’ Beth shouted as the kids walked away from her. She watched them turn the corner, then she sighed and glanced around. Town was busy. Saturday morning shoppers lined the streets, and Beth felt a little more relaxed.

She’d felt a sudden need to be around people. She didn’t need anything in town. It was just nice to be out of the house.

She crossed the street and headed into a small coffee shop. As she was standing staring blankly at the menu, someone tapped her on the shoulder.

Beth pivoted, still a little on edge, and found herself looking up at a tall woman.

‘Margot! Hello,’ Beth said, relieved to see someone she recognised. Margot was a lawyer at the small publishers in town where Beth worked. Crossing paths most days, she was probably as close to a friend as Beth had.

Margot was in her early-forties, at a guess, about five feet eleven and eternally stylish. She had deep auburn hair, dyed, Beth had always assumed, but impeccably styled. Being single and having no children, she had all her money to spend on herself. And money was something she had in abundance. She was independently wealthy from a successful career in law, but as Beth understood it, when Margot’s husband found out that she couldn’t conceive children, he had left her. And Margot had taken him to the cleaners. This morning Margot was wearing an ankle-length cashmere jumper dress, in varying shades of blue. She had a white silk scarf with royal-blue doves printed on it, draped over her shoulders, and an enormous pair of designer sunglasses covering her eyes. Reddish-brown hair fell in loose curls around her shoulders. She pulled the glasses off, revealing her expertly applied make-up, and gave Beth a tight smile.

‘Beth, hi!’ she said, with a loud air-kiss on each cheek. ‘What a surprise! It’s so lovely to see a friendly face, darling! I absolutely abhor these Saturday morning shoppers. Try to avoid them whenever I can but needs must.’ Margot’s perfect received pronunciation stank of an exceedingly expensive education. When she had first started at Greys a few years earlier, Beth had been terrified of her. But the first time they’d chatted, side by side at a mirror in the toilets, they had clicked. Margot had been touching up her flawless make-up. Beth had been fiddling with her hair, tucking it behind her ears, then tying it back in a loose ponytail. Margot had given her a sideways look in the mirror and said, ‘You should wear it down. It’s fabulous,’ before offering Beth her Christian Louboutin lipstick to try.

Margot had spent the majority of her career in London, working in family law. She also devoted most of her free time and a lot of her money volunteering with underprivileged children. She had once claimed rather flippantly to Beth that as she couldn’t have any of the little buggers herself, she thought she would help the ones that other people didn’t want.

‘How are you? I didn’t see you at work this week, were you off?’ Beth asked, still half reading the coffee-shop menu on the wall behind the counter.

‘Indeed I was, my dear. Helping out with some kids. They needed a chaperone on a camping trip, so I thought what the hell, why not?’

Beth smiled briefly at the idea of Margot camping but refrained from commenting.

A young lad turned to Beth from behind the till. Camp was an understatement. Tall, and slim, wearing far too much make-up; she couldn’t help thinking he could do with some lessons from Margot on how to apply it properly.

‘What can I get you?’ he asked.

With one last glance up at the menu, Beth ordered a tall, skinny Americano. ‘And whatever she’s having.’ She motioned towards Margot.

‘Not at all, darling. These are on me. I’ll get a vanilla oat