My pulse skips a beat. Hopefully Callum has got the wrong end of the stick. ‘Really?’ I ask, ‘because Callum seems to think you are.’
‘Fucking Callum,’ she mutters.
‘He also said that my husband is the father of your child.’
To my horror, Hannah starts to cry. She sniffs and wipes her eyes with the back of her hand.
‘Why are you crying?’ I ask. ‘Is it true? Is that why you’re upset? Because you’re scared to tell me?’
‘No!’ she says.
‘Because if it is true, I need to know. You were a minor when it happened, so I won’t be mad at you. I just need to know the truth, that’s all. This is my husband you’re accusing, so tell me. Please.’
‘Just go away,’ she snarls.
At that moment the lounge door opens and Stephen Parkfield walks in, his eyes blazing.
‘I just need a couple more minutes,’ I say. ‘I’m talking to Hannah.’
‘No you’re not,’ he replies. ‘Hannah, go to your room.’
Hannah scuttles away. I call after her. ‘Please, just tell me the truth!’ But she’s gone already and I can’t exactly chase her through the Parkfields’ house.
‘Get out,’ Parkfield says to me. ‘Now.’
‘You don’t even know why I’m here,’ I say.
‘I don’t care,’ he says. ‘You’re a drunk and a troublemaker and you need to leave.’
A million and one retorts come to my mind, but they all remain unspoken, lying thick and heavy on my tongue. Tears prick behind my eyes. Why can’t I just get the answers I need? Why is it so hard to find the truth about what’s going on? I take a couple of steps towards the lounge door, where Lorna is lurking. She gives me an evil stare and something inside me snaps.
‘Fine, I’ll go, but you both need to keep your daughter away from my husband.’
Lorna’s face drops. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Exactly what it sounds like.’
‘You’re delusional, Kirstie,’ she says.
That’s not the first time today someone’s called me delusional, but I really don’t think I am. ‘Ask her who the father of her baby is.’ I turn to Parkfield. ‘You can kick me out of your house, but it doesn’t change the fact that your daughter’s sleeping with my husband.’
‘Nonsense!’ Parkfield says. ‘We already know who the father is.’
‘Callum, right? You think it’s Callum,’ I reply. ‘But maybe that’s just what Hannah wants you to believe because the truth… the truth is…’ My voice cracks, but I force myself to keep going. ‘According to Callum, your daughter has been sleeping with my husband, and he’s the father of her child.’
Lorna blanches.
‘My wife is right,’ Parkfield says, ‘you’re delusional.’
‘I wish I were,’ I say. ‘I bloody wish I were.’
* * *
As I let myself back into my house, I get the feeling that I’ve just made everything a whole lot worse. I should never have gone next door shouting my mouth off. If Dom is found guilty of sleeping with a minor, then he’ll go to prison. When she’s older, Daisy will discover that her father is a sex offender. There will be a huge scandal and all the kids at school will find out about it. My colleagues, family and friends will be shocked. Our world will implode.
But what the hell else was I supposed to do? Ignore it? Hope it goes away? If Dom really did do this thing, then he deserves to be punished, but it’s Daisy and I who will have to live with the fallout. I find myself back in my kitchen, standing at the sink once more, looking out of the window into the back garden. It all looks so peaceful and idyllic out there. So calm. The complete opposite of the frantic whirlwind inside my head.
Although, if I know anything about Parkfield it’s that he loves his precious career above anything else. He won’t report Dom to the police because he’ll want to avoid the scandal. No, it suits him to believe that Callum is the father.
I don’t know why I’m standing around here. I know what I need to do. I need to confront my husband. But I’m putting it off. If Dom admits to this, then I’ll have to accept that my marriage is over. I’ll have no choice but to leave him and bring Daisy up on my own. I don’t want it to be true. Please don’t let it be. My throat tightens and my eyes sting. But I can’t fall apart. Not yet.
Thirty-Six
I park my car at an untidy angle on my in-laws’ gravel driveway, next to Dom’s Audi, his scratched paintwork a stark reminder of everything that’s happened. As though I need reminding. I get out of the car and run my fingertip along the scarred surface of the scratch, the roughness scraping my flesh. I imagine how Callum’s anger at Dom must have turned to temporary satisfaction as he dug his key into the side of the gleaming vehicle. If Dom tells me that it’s true – that he’s having an affair with our neighbours’ daughter – perhaps I’ll give him a matching pair, and balance out the other side of his car. Or perhaps I’ll do what Callum wishes he’d done and ‘torch the fucker’.
I take a breath and pull my fingers through my curls. This won’t be easy. Before I get to speak to Dom, I’ll have to navigate his parents. I can already picture the disapproving looks, overlaid with distant politeness. But I can’t let their judgement distract me or make me feel guilty for something I haven’t done. I crunch over the gravel and ring the doorbell.
I hear laughter from inside. Footsteps approaching. More laughter. The door opens. It’s Audrey in full make-up, wearing an Emma Bridgwater apron over a knee-length, floral-print dress, her open smile turning to mild shock when she sees me. ‘Ah, Kirstie. We weren’t, uh, expecti— Never mind, come in, dear, come in.’
I step inside their expansive hallway, the smell of roasting meat wafting under my nose, making me fight the urge to retch. It’s thirty degrees out, but heaven forbid Geoff and Dominic don’t get their roast lamb with all the trimmings for Sunday lunch.
‘I’ve come to speak to Dom,’ I say. Male laughter floats out from the back of the house. Nice to hear my husband’s having such a jolly time.
Audrey purses her lips and lowers her voice. ‘I think you should give Dominic some space, dear. It’s all been a bit of a shock – your breakdown, and yesterday’s unfortunate incident. Maybe give him a day or two.’
I bite back my sarcasm. If she knew what her precious son had been up to, she might be a bit less judgemental. ‘I won’t stay long,’ I say. ‘I just need to have a word with him about a few things.’
‘Well, the boys are in the den watching the athletics. Why don’t you come into the kitchen and give me a hand with lunch? Speak to him after.’
‘Where’s Daisy?’ I ask, my whole body yearning to hold her.
‘Ah, the little darling is up in her room having a nap,’ Audrey says.
Her room. Since when does Daisy have her own room here? ‘Which room have you put her in?’ I ask. ‘Dom’s old room?’
‘No, dear. The small front bedroom. It’s perfect for her as it’s cooler than the others – north facing. It’s not good for babies to be too hot.’
I ignore the passive-aggressive advice. ‘Okay, I’ll just nip up and see if she’s all right.’ I make a move towards the sweeping staircase behind us.
‘Like I said…’ Audrey puts a bony hand on my bruised arm, making me wince at the sudden pain. ‘Daisy’s having a nap.’
I would be quite within my rights to kick up a fuss and insist on seeing my daughter, but I don’t want to cause a scene before I’ve even spoken to Dom. It takes all of my willpower to accede. But I do it, letting my shoulders slump as I turn away from the stairs. Right now, more than anything, I need to have this conversation with my husband. ‘Okay, well in that case, I need to speak to Dom. I’m afraid he’ll have to watch the athletics later.’