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Behind Her Eyes: Part 3: Chapter 53

Louise

I’m shaking as I hang up.

Have any of my words sunk in? What will she do now? Call the clinic? Smash up the house when she realises I wasn’t lying? I think of how broken she sounded. No. She believed me. She knows he’s gone. I try to ring David, but his phone goes through to answerphone. He’ll be on the train already and the service must be bad. I curse under my breath, but then leave a message to tell him I’m safe.

Safe.

Adam. I’m supposed to pick him up in an hour. How can I play happy families with him tonight? With all this going on? Oh my baby boy, I love him so much, but I can’t deal with him today. I’m too distracted. Also, there’s Adele. She knows where I live. What if her awful upset turns to anger? Sociopath. That’s how David described her. What if she comes after me when all this sinks in? I consider checking us into a hotel as David suggested, but that would require too much explanation to Ian when Adam sees him. Also, part of me wants to know how crazy Adele is going to get. If she comes after me I want to be prepared. I think she’s going to lose control without David there. I almost hope she does. That would help support David’s version of events.

I call Ian, silently promising that whatever else happens, tomorrow I’m taking Adam out for a special mother and son tea. ‘Hey,’ I say, when he answers, mildly concerned. I never ring him at work. Those days are long gone. ‘Nothing to worry about. I just wondered if you and Lisa could do me a favour. It’s a bit last minute though.’

‘What is it?’

‘Could you have Adam tonight? Collect him from Day Play? Something’s come up and I’m running late and I’ve also had an invitation out to dinner this evening.’

‘Sure!’ he says. ‘I’ll call Lisa, she’ll go and get him.’

I can hear the enthusiasm in his voice. He thinks I’ve got a date. Finally, his ex-wife is moving on.

‘Thanks,’ I say. ‘You’re a star.’

‘No problem. And have fun!’

We say our goodbyes and hang up. How strange it is that love can turn to hate and then to this mild friendship.

I resist the urge to go and buy a bottle of wine on the way. As much as I tell myself I’d only have one glass, in the mood I’m in the bottle would be gone by the time David calls, and I don’t trust myself not to beg him to change his mind if I’m drunk.

And then of course, there’s Adele. If she turns up and I’ve been drinking I’ll have no chance against her.


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