The Best of Friends, Alex Day [feel good books to read .txt] 📗

you off. It’s not ideal for my son to be in your care but I need him out of the way and it’s vital that Dan doesn’t get wind of the fact that I know who he seduced in my absence. Or who he was seduced by. Not before the time is right, anyway.

But as you exit through the back door, an angry, chill wind blows up and I am overcome by a sudden, inexplicable feeling of dread.

Two hours later, in an attempt to bolster my spirits before Dan arrives, and to remind myself of your perfidy, I look at the photo I took. I’ve opened the wine and had one glass already, and together with the gin and tonic I drank earlier, I’m feeling a little woozy. Normally, I’m just a social drinker and, unlike you, I never have more than a glass or two so of course it’s going to go straight to my head. This is a night when I might have to break my no-carbs rule and absorb some of the alcohol with rice and naan bread.

Impatiently, I zoom into the details of the picture, teasing the edges outwards until the part I want to see is centre-screen, blown up to almost life-sized. It’s further proof, more evidence, the absolute confirmation of your betrayal.

I take a gulp of wine.

Are you deliberately taunting me by wearing the very necklace I returned to you in the post or is it just that you are stupid? What is the curry all about? Some crazy, half-baked (pardon the pun) way to get back at me for trying to reconcile with my husband? A way to get into Dan’s trousers?

And, most chillingly of all, how far are you prepared to go to get what you want?

Chapter 36

Susannah

I turn in my seat to check that Luke and Sam have fastened their belts. They are chattering and giggling about something, a shared joke, a hidden secret. Jamie is silent, intent on his phone. He’s been so quiet since they got back from their time with Justin; I’m sure he knows there’s something troubling me, however hard I try to behave as if everything is absolutely normal. Before starting the engine, I rub my hands over my tired eyes, hoping to dispel the anguish that’s suddenly engulfed me. An intense pain sears through me. Shit! I’ve got chilli on my fingers from making the curry and I’ve managed to get it into my eyes. They smart and water and I squeeze them shut in an attempt to dispel the pain.

Suddenly, it all feels too much. I want to cry and sob and roar at the sky about everything that’s gone wrong. I want a cuddle and a hug and someone to tell me it’ll be all right. But there is no one to do that and instead I am the one who must be strong and indomitable, making sure my boys don’t find out that the world is dissolving around us. Again.

At this moment, the boys notice that we haven’t actually moved yet, that we’re sitting with an idling engine going nowhere.

‘Mum!’ says Jamie. ‘Let’s go. We’ll be late for the party.’

I nod. ‘Yes, sorry, just had something in my eye.’

He’s in the passenger seat next to me and I see him looking closely at me, appraising my response, calculating whether it’s anything extra he should be worried about. Charlotte regarded me in the same way, just now, in her kitchen. In fact, her whole manner was a bit off, her gaze uncanny.

Remembering that Charlotte’s bedroom window looks out on the circular gravel driveway, I release the clutch and move off. She might be watching me, wondering why I’m not leaving. Suddenly, I want to be away from here, out of sight of the house within which Dan held me close. The stones scrunch beneath the tyres as I pull away.

The gates open as I approach, silent and smooth; in the mirror I see them closing behind me, monumental and black, separating the house from the real world outside, preserving Charlotte in well-heeled luxury.

And suddenly I understand. I know, fully and unequivocally, how much it all means to her and how far she will go to maintain her hold over it all – including Dan.

Where that leaves me, I don’t even want to contemplate.

Chapter 37

Charlotte

When I open the door to Dan, he leans in to kiss me in greeting. I sidestep quickly away from him but I’m already pleased about one thing. That he’s rung the bell rather than used his key. This shows he’s taking things seriously, not just assuming that because I’ve invited him for this meal, everything is back to normal and he can act as if he still lives here. He’s going to have to work very hard to earn that right back – if he ever does.

He retracts from the almost-kiss and I usher him in. A storm is coming. The wind howls and gusts, banging the loose garage door, sending a flurry of leaves plummeting downwards from the ornamental cherry in the centre of the driveway. I push the door to and it slams itself shut. Though it’s not cold, it’s a wild night out there. This will be the first autumnal tempest. The weather forecasters predict it will be a big one. As we retreat down the hallway to the kitchen, I hear the rain starting, the gale flinging it aggressively against the windowpanes like handfuls of pebbles.

In the cosy safety of the kitchen, I offer Dan a glass of wine. He accepts and I discover that the first bottle, the one I opened earlier, is empty. I didn’t think I’d drunk quite that much but what the hell? I uncork a second one. One only confronts one’s lying, cheating husband once in a while, right? Might as well make it an occasion for indulgence.

‘So,’ Dan says, doing his best to look and sound contrite. Actually, he’s managing both quite well. His face