Jack had put his hands up to his face. For a very brief moment, she’d thought he was crying but then he’d pulled his palms down his cheeks and sighed deeply. ‘Okay, okay. You don’t need to keep saying that.’
Again, she’d had the feeling that he hadn’t seemed as shocked as he should have been. ‘Did you… know?’
Then he’d looked shocked. ‘What? No. Of course not. Did you think I’d been keeping a secret daughter all this time?’
She’d been surprised at the strength of his reaction, the fierceness of his whisper. Why had he spoken to her in that tone? This wasn’t them. They never argued like this. Maybe this conversation would be better at another time, when they weren’t so exhausted, so ready to bite chunks out of each other. There’d been no point dragging the conversation out all night, anyway. Especially as she’d wanted to get up early before Cara woke up. As much as she’d felt sorry for Sophie being dragged around town on a Friday night, she wasn’t entirely comfortable having two complete strangers sleeping in the house. Although, she’d had to remind herself, Cara wasn’t a stranger to Jack.
This morning, as soon as she’d heard the crunch of the gravel as his car pulled away, she got out of bed and into the shower. Even on a weekend, it was important to her to be showered and dressed before breakfast, ready to begin her day.
Jack was ambitious. What her dad would have called a ‘go-getter’. It was one of the things she’d most liked about him when they’d first met. There had been over 200 people at the Christmas party she’d organised for his advertising agency, but he had stood out from everyone she’d spoken to. His clothes, his speech, the way he interacted with all the staff at the party showed how he was driven, focused: just like her. In the last two years he had been promoted three times, and each time his new boss would comment on his dedication and vision. His golf game with a major client was important, of course it was. But surely it could be rearranged in the circumstances? Apparently not.
Before shutting off the shower, she let the water clean the suds from the shower gel and shampoo bottles. She’d already made a note on her phone to replenish the guest bottles she’d given to Cara last night. There was so much she wanted to ask Jack about Cara. The longer they’d spoken with her last night, the less she could understand how the two of them had been a couple. Jack had been brought up in a big house in Fincham village; Cara most definitely had not. All Rebecca had been able to get out of him was that they’d met at a club, that it had been during a ‘wild period’ of his life that he wasn’t particularly proud of. His eyes said that he didn’t want to talk about it, and when Jack didn’t want to talk about something, he would just shut down, become monosyllabic. She’d learned how to handle him. If she wanted to know more about Cara and him, she would have to catch him at the right moment. Theoretically, she had no right to be angry with him. They hadn’t been together when he was with Cara, so it wasn’t as if he’d cheated on her. But a child? This wasn’t part of their plan. Ever.
After making Cara a black coffee, they left Sophie in the kitchen eating her cereal and watching cartoons. Sitting opposite Cara in the lounge, Rebecca pushed the hair away from her face and took a deep breath. Where to begin? ‘So…’
Great start, Rebecca. For all her abilities to schmooze hoteliers and stately home owners into capitulating to her clients’ more unreasonable demands, she was not good at dealing with personal stuff like this.
Cara wasn’t helping her either. She just stared back at her. ‘So?’
Rebecca coughed. ‘What are your plans?’
Cara frowned. ‘For today?’
She really wasn’t helping. ‘In general. About somewhere to stay.’
‘Are you chucking us out?’ Cara leaned forward, put her head on one side.
Rebecca almost choked. Cara made her sound like a monster. ‘No, I’m not throwing you out. I just assumed you’d want to stay somewhere more… permanent.’
Cara laughed and sat back in her chair. ‘I’m just joking. Yes, I’ll start to call around this morning. It was just too late last night and it was a Friday night so…’
‘Yes, yes, of course.’ She was making Rebecca feel terrible. In the light of morning, Cara looked exhausted. Maybe she’d lied about sleeping well; Rebecca never slept the first night in a different bed. Hotel rooms were the worst; her mind could never shut off from the fact that other people had been in the bed the night before. Jack had laughed at her when she’d begun to travel with her own pillow. She found her voice softening. ‘Look. You don’t have to rush off. I mean, we’re not using the room for a few days and—’
Cara practically bit her hand off. ‘Really? That’s great. Thanks.’
Dammit. Why had she said that? Surely Cara could see that she was just being polite. Anyone else would have realised. But how could she backtrack now and tell her that she wanted them gone today?
Cara sat back in her chair and sipped at her coffee, seemingly oblivious to Rebecca’s anxiety. ‘Have you and Jack been together a long time?’
How had she changed the subject so easily? Rebecca nodded. ‘Four and a half years.’
Cara paled a little at that. She was probably doing the same maths as Rebecca had done last night. If Sophie was four, Cara would have still been pregnant when Jack and Rebecca had met. Rebecca’s stomach started to churn again. ‘Look, I don’t want to sound rude, but… are you really sure? That Jack is Sophie’s father?’
Cara looked her in the eye. ‘One hundred per cent.’
Rebecca’s phone rang. Izzy. ‘Sorry, I need to take this. It’s my business partner.’
Cara waved a hand and got up. ‘I’ll go and check on Sophie.’
‘Hi, Izzy. What can I do for you?’
‘Oh, Rebecca, great. I was hoping you’d pick up. Just checking in because I know you’ve got the Anderson dinner in the diary for tonight.’
Flip, the events of last night had driven it from her mind. A three-course meal for the entire company and their spouses to thank them for a record-breaking year. Maybe she would have been less critical of Jack’s golf game if she’d remembered she would have to go out this evening. ‘Everything is organised and ready to go. I’ll be there an hour before to make sure the canapés and pre-event drinks are ready and waiting.’
She could almost hear Izzy smile at the other end. ‘Of course, it’s organised. I know not to expect anything less. I, on the other hand, am anything but. Which is why I’m calling you in a panic. I’m out at Greenfield Manor with the Hunter-Woollards and I’ve forgotten those brochures you collated for me. Any chance there’s an electronic version you can pop onto an email? I don’t want to look a hot mess.’
Rebecca bit her lip. She loved her colleague but Izzy’s disorganisation drove her nuts sometimes. Why, she mused furiously for a moment, am I always the one who has to clean up other people’s messes? Messes that could be avoided with foresight and planning. Still, Izzy was her friend, and Rebecca had known what she was like when they’d started the company together. ‘Of course, can you give me half an hour?’