Woman with a Secret (13 page)

From
: Mr. Jugs

Date
: Tue, July 2, 2013 13:56:07

To
:

Subject
: Re: Distress signal

What exactly happened at the police station?

You’re not being harsh. Or rather, if you are, I assume I must deserve it. And I do love your bizarre analogies.

I admire your fierceness. When the war starts, can I be in your unit?

G.

From
: Nicki

Date
: Tue, July 2, 2013 13:59:04

To
:

Subject
: Re: Distress signal

Bizarre analogies? What do you mean? Please tell me exactly why you said that.

N

From
: Mr. Jugs

Date
: Tue, July 2, 2013 14:02:35

To
:

Subject
: Re: Distress signal

Just “N,” no “x”? What have I done wrong now?

Bizarre analogies? Barack Obama being a vegan!

G.

From
: Nicki

Date
: Tue, July 2, 2013 14:07:23

To
:

Subject
: Re: Distress signal

Barack Obama being a vegan is only one analogy. You said, “And I do love your bizarre analogies,” plural, as if a) I have come up with quite a few, and b) you’ve been fond of and familiar with this tendency of mine for a while. What other analogies have I ever put in my emails to you?

N

From
: Mr. Jugs

Date
: Tue, July 2, 2013 14:09:07

To
:

Subject
: Re: Distress signal

Nicki, what are you getting so steamed up about? I don’t get it.

G.

From
: Nicki

Date
: Tue, July 2, 2013 14:10:04

To
:

Subject
: Re: Distress signal

Husband back—have to go to London.

N

From
: Mr. Jugs

Date
: Tue, July 2, 2013 14:23:19

To
:

Subject
: Re: Distress signal

Are you on the train? Email me, please.

G.

From
: Nicki

Date
: Tue, July 2, 2013 14:56:04

To
:

Subject
: Re: Distress signal

No, I’m in the Avis Rent-a-Car office in Rawndesley. The trains are buggered today.

I don’t know why I’m answering you.

N

Sent from my BlackBerry 10 smartphone

From
: Mr. Jugs

Date
: Tue, July 2, 2013 15:02:08

To
:

Subject
: Re: Distress signal

What have I done to piss you off? Please tell me.

G.

From
: Nicki

Date
: Tue, July 2, 2013 15:15:31

To
:

Subject
: Re: Distress signal

“When the war starts, can I be in your unit?” Ring any bells?

N

Sent from my BlackBerry 10 smartphone

“NICKI. IT’S YOU.” MELISSA’S
voice is swallowed by the roar of traffic behind us. She and Lee live on a main road in Highgate, in a modern brown three-bedroom maisonette that looks like a chocolate bar with windows. Adam and the kids and I used to live five minutes’ walk from here, in a shabby, gardenless Victorian terrace that we couldn’t afford to renovate.

81 Enfys Road. Home
.

Standing on Melissa’s doorstep, I feel like someone returning from the dead. I miss this noise. I need to move back to London, as soon as I can. That would cancel everything out, as if none of it ever happened. It would bring me back to life, if anything could.

I try not to think about what has happened most recently, about what I believe I’ve proved to myself beyond all reasonable doubt.
Gavin . . .

Stop. You can’t fall apart now. Don’t think about Gavin, King Edward, any of it
.