The door clicked shut behind him, and he stood there in the hallway, coat still on, keys still in his hand. He’d told Sarah he needed to go home. She’d raised an eyebrow but hadn’t asked why. He was grateful for that.
He found her in the living room, not draped on the sofa like he’d hoped, but on her feet, vacuum cleaner in her handand a look on her face that said she’d rather be anywhere else. She stopped when she saw him. “You’re home early. “”
“Closed early.
“”
“Right. “”
He dropped his keys in the bowl by the door. “Sarah’s with the client. I was just sitting in my chair, not able to concentrate.
“”
“Why’s that? “”
He crossed the room and took the vacuum from her, setting it aside. “Because I wanted to be here. With you.
“”
She blinked at him, and then her face softened, just a little. “Oh. “”
“I thought you might feel better. We had someone finish the business.
“”
“Not the breakfast. “”
“No, not the breakfast. “”
She looked down at her hands. “So are we back together, then?
“”
He stepped closer. “I’ve broken it, haven’t I? “”
“No. “ She held up a hand.
“No, no. Stay there. ” She took a breath. “It’s just going to take a while.
”“”
“Okay. “”
“Just so everything feels all right. If we rush it—”“”
“No rush. Slow is fine.
“”
“Slow is good. “”
“Not too slow. “”
He almost laughed. “Not too slow.
“”
She smiled, barely. “It’s going to be a musician yet. “ She looked down at his fingers. “Seen these fingers.
They’ll have to grow a bit before we get fitted for a piano. “”
“Do my fingers look big in this? “”
She laughed, just once, quiet. Then her face went serious again.
“Scary, isn’t it? Everything that can happen to you once you actually get out into the world. “”
“Well, not to Harper. Daddy won’t let anything bad happen to you.
Ever. “”
Her eyes flickered. “Something bad happened to Jodie. “”
He went still.
“What did she tell you? “”
“Not me. Kit. You know the crash, right?
“”
“Apparently she was tied up. Escaped from something. Someone. “”
He stared at her.
Then he pulled outhis phone. “Yeah. Oh, hi, Jonah. It’s me.
I’m with Jodie. She said she’s locked herself out, and then she just lost it. “ He paused. “Right.
Okay. Well, have you got your key? “ Another pause. “Well, no, but I don’t really want to leave her.
“ He listened. “Okay. Um, look, Jodie’s going through a really tough time at the minute. “ He glanced at the woman in front of him.
“Are we all? Um, right. Just try and keep her there, and I’ll come home. “””
He ended the call and looked at her.
She was watching him, waiting. “She’s at Jonah’s. I need to go. “”
“Go.
“”
He hesitated at the door. “It’ll be so much easier if we went cashless. “”
She almost smiled. “Oh, don’t set me off.
“”
“Set you off? “”
“Why can’t we just use real money? You can be mugged these days and not even know. “”
“Yeah, well, it’s better than getting knocked out for a couple of quid, isn’t it?
“”
She shook her head, but there was something warmer in her eyes now. “Heredity. That’s your genes, isn’t it? “”
“Yes.
Can cause heart things. “”
“Not my side. My auntie Bridey lived to be 115. “”
He frowned.
“No, she didn’t. I knew her. “”
“Did you? “”
“No, I just meant—”“”
“Oh, no, she didn’t.
Really? You’re talking about great-aunt Bridey? Lived until 115? “”
“Felt like it.
We thought she’d never pass. Only knew she was gone because she stopped talking and the kettle went cold. “”
He laughed, short. Then he looked at her, serious again.
“Why are you talking about how long people live for? Where’s your brother? I’d like to get the tea on. “”
“He’s probably sulking or kicking off, as normal.
“”
“You could be more sympathetic. He’s probably just worried about your dad. “”
“There’s no excuse. “”
“Listen.
Go easy on him. You’re more mature than he is. “”
“Mature? “ She raised an eyebrow.
“That’s not heritage from his father. “”
He didn’t answer that. He just looked at her, and something passed between them, something quiet and uncertain and maybe hopeful. He turned toward the door.
“I’ll be back. “”
“I know. “”
He found Jodie sitting on Jonah’s sofa, knees drawn up, eyes red. Jonah stood by the kitchen door, looking helpless.
He nodded at him when he came in. “She’s been like this for an hour. Don’t think she’s said two words since I called you. “”
He sat down on the arm of the sofa, not too close.
“Jod. “”
She didn’t look at him. “I locked myself out. I must have left my key somewhere.
“”
“It happens. “”
“I just—I felt a bit—” She stopped. Then, quieter. “I think you were right this morning.
You know. Not talking about it just makes it harder. “”
He waited. She wiped her face with the back of her hand.
“I’m still worried about dad. “”
“I thought dad was okay. “”
“Yeah, he is. But worrying’s not going to change anything.
Just got to keep a close eye on him. “”
“Did you say something to him? “”
She shook her head. “No.
I actually thought you were that nice. “”
He didn’t push. He just sat there, beside her, while she breathed. After a long moment, she said, “They say you spent your early days tied up.
Escaped from something. Someone. “”
He didn’t answer. He waited.
She wasn’t looking at him anymore. She was looking at the wall. “Hello. “”
She told him everything.
Not all at once, but in pieces, her voice flat and far away. She told him about the man, the one she’d been with before. How he’d know where everything was, what she kept in which cupboard. How he’d hidden her bag, her keys, her money, her phone.
How he’d told her she was going to leave him, over and over, until she’d learned to say, “No, no, I’d never leave you,“ because saying anything else made things worse. ””
She told him about the pregnancy test. How she’d felt different, something off, something wrong. How she’d done the test alone in the bathroom, her hands shaking, and when the blue line appeared she’d thought, I can’t bring a child into this.
I can’t bring a child into this. “”
She told him about coming out of the bathroom. He was there. He was asking if she’d been calling someone, texting someone, why she’d been in there so long.
She only remembered bits after that. The cupboard. The bag. His shouting.
The yard. Lying on the grass, everything she’d packed thrown out the window, scattered around her. Her pants. Her deodorant.
Her St. Christopher. “”
And the bleeding. She remembered the bleeding most of all.
“”
She stopped. Her voice had gone thin, like it was coming from somewhere far away. He didn’t move. He didn’t reach for her.
He just sat, and let her be in the silence. “”
Jonah brought tea. Neither of them drank it. After a long time, she said, quiet,“He was always there.
Always watching me. Until that one chance. “”
“The crash. “”
She nodded.
“The crash. “”
He looked at her. “You got out. “”
She met his eyes for the first time since he’d sat down.
“I got out. “”
Something shifted in her face. Not relief, exactly. But something close to it.
Like she’d been holding a door shut for years and finally let her hands drop. “”
He said, “Thank you. Thank you for trusting me. For being honest.
“”
She blinked. Looked down. Then, almost inaudible,“Thank you. “”
“But I promise you, okay,“ he said, and his voice was steady,“ that this is just the beginning.
“”
She didn’t answer. But she didn’t look away, either. And in her eyes, for the first time in a long time, there was something that wasn’t fear. “”
Later, when he got home, she was still up.
She was sitting in the kitchen, a cup of cold tea in front of her. She looked up when he came in. “How is she? “”
“She’s going to be all right.
I think. “”
She nodded. Then she said, quiet, “I’m sorry. About this morning.
About Will. About all of it. “”
He shook his head. “You’ve nothing to be sorry for.
“”
She looked at him, and her eyes were tired but clear. “We said slow. We meant it. “”
“We did.
“”
She stood up, and crossed the room, and put her hand on his arm. Just that. Just her hand, warm through his sleeve. “Then slow it is.
“”
He let outa breath he hadn’t known he was holding. “Slow it is. “”
She almost smiled. Then she went to makethe tea.
“”
He stood in the kitchen doorway, watching her move around the room, and he thought about Jodie on that sofa, and about the man who’d watched her for years, and about all the ways people got trapped, and all the small quiet ways they got out. “”
The kettle clicked off. She poured the water. She didn’t look at him, but she said, “You did good today.
“”
“I didn’t do anything. “”
“You showed up. “ She set the cup downin front of him. “That’s not nothing.
“”
He picked upthe tea. It was too hot to drink. He held it anyway, letting the warmth seep into his palms. “”
“Harper’s asleep,“ she said.
“”
“Good. “”
She sat down across from him. The kitchen was quiet, save for the hum of the fridge. He looked at her, at the lines around her eyes that had softened, at the way she held her cup with both hands, like she was warming herself.
“”
“I’m glad I came home,“ he said. “”
She met his eyes. “Me too. “”
They sat likethat, in the quiet kitchen, neither of them rushing.
Slow was fine. Slow was good. And for the first time in a long time, neither of them felt the need to run.
“”
