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Feeling ludicrously ashamed, Jenna watched Richard’s shrewd eyes returning to hers. “Do you have any reason to think this woman might be involved in these charges for your clients?” he asked carefully.

Jenna shook her head. “I’ve no idea, but she’s very hands-on with the business, so I’d be surprised if she doesn’t know about them.”

“Much more hands-on than Jenna is,” Hanna added, “which is suspicious in itself, don’t you think?”

Richard didn’t comment on that. “The woman’s name?” he enquired.

“Martha Gwynne,” Jenna replied.

His eyebrows rose. “The business consultant?”

She nodded. “Do you know her?”

“I know of her, yes.”

“I introduced her to my sister and brother-in-law,” Hanna explained. “She did some work for us a couple of years ago—my husband and I have a PR company in London—and her services were faultless. Obviously, or I’d never have recommended her to anyone, least of all someone in my family.”

“She does have a good reputation,” Richard agreed, “but we still need to find out exactly what kind of role, if any, she’s played in these recent developments. So, would you like me to draft a letter, or would you rather speak to your husband yourself?”

“I’d like you to do it,” Jenna replied decisively. If she took it on herself, it would only turn into yet another ugly showdown, with the probability of not much being resolved at the end of it. However, if he knew for a fact that she’d already spoken to a lawyer, he’d have to come up with some answers.

“If you’re sure about this, you need to let me have a current address for him.”

“I don’t have one,” Jenna replied helplessly. “He hasn’t told me where he’s living, only that it’s in the Maritime Quarter.”

“I see. Well, I would strongly suggest that you do find out where he is, for your children’s sake, if not for your own.”

“Of course,” she replied, feeling useless for not having done it sooner.

“When do you think you’ll send the letter?” Hanna asked.

“It’ll probably go in tomorrow evening’s mail, first class,” he replied. “This will give you some time to think it over in case you’d like to change your mind,” he explained to Jenna. “If you do, you simply have to call me. Now, there’s one more thing before you go. I would suggest you order a more thorough audit of the company, so we can be sure there is nothing else to be concerned about.”

Jenna looked at Hanna.

“Do you have someone you can recommend?” Hanna asked him.

“Yes, I do. He’s done a lot of work for us in the past, so I can assure you he’s discreet, thorough, and fast. My secretary will give you his number as you leave, but I’ll call myself to let him know that you’ll be getting in touch.”

“Thank you,” Jenna murmured as he got to his feet. “You’ve been very helpful.”

“Yes, very helpful,” Hanna added, shaking his hand. “I have to go back to London tomorrow, so it’s a big relief to know I’m leaving my sister in your capable hands.”

Richard’s smile was ironic as he said to Jenna, “You have my number. If you are uncertain about something, or if you need more advice, don’t be afraid to use it.”

Once outside and in the car on the way home, Hanna said, “I think that went well, don’t you?”

“I guess so, in the circumstances,” Jenna responded.

Hanna glanced at her. “You’re worried this isn’t going to do anything to help repair your marriage,” she stated.

Jenna turned to look out of the window. Yes, she was worried about that, but more worrying still was the fear that they were already past the point of repair.

“Are you going to call this auditor?” Hanna prompted.

Feeling she had no choice, Jenna said, “I’ll give Richard the chance to call first. Maybe I’ll do it this afternoon.”

“Richard?” Hanna teased.

Surprised, Jenna said, “It’s what Bena calls him.”

“Of course, and it’s his name, so why not? I liked him, did you?”

Jenna nodded and continued to stare out of the window. She was wondering again where Jack was now and what he might be doing. Wherever and whatever it was, she guessed he was with Martha. Was she planning to give him a job with her company, something to release him from the delusional ambitions of the Internet enterprise he’d dreamed up with his naively trusting wife? Had he used the money he’d taken from their clients to buy his way into Martha’s firm? Or had it gone toward their new apartment?

Remembering that she needed to get an address from him, she took out her mobile and pressed in his number. She wasn’t surprised, only annoyed when she found herself going straight to voicemail. “I realize you’re screening my calls,” she said evenly, “so if you don’t want to speak to me, perhaps you can text me the address of your new apartment. Don’t worry, I won’t be paying you a visit. This is purely in case of emergency.”

After ringing off she stared down at the phone, as though expecting a text to arrive straightaway. It didn’t, but a call came in a few minutes later from Miss Kendrick at Paige’s school.

“Mrs. Moore, I hope I haven’t caught you at a bad time?”

“No, now is fine,” Jenna assured her. “Is everything all right?”

“I hope so. I’m just a little concerned about Paige. Is she still unwell?”

It took Jenna a moment to remember that her mother had collected Paige from school last Friday. “Oh, yes, she seems fine now,” Jenna assured her. “Thank you for asking.”

“So she’ll be returning to school tomorrow?”

Jenna frowned. Unless she was imagining things, Paige had left home at her usual time that morning to get the bus. Waffle had gone with her and returned about ten minutes later, as he always did. “Are you saying…I’m sorry, but isn’t Paige there now?” she asked.

“I’m afraid not,” Miss Kendrick replied. “Mrs. Haynes tells me she attended registration first thing, but she didn’t turn up for maths straight after, nor for my class after that. I was hoping she’d changed her mind about withdrawing from her part in
Under Milk Wood
for the centenary celebrations.”

Stunned to learn that Paige had actually pulled out, Jenna said, “I’m sorry about the confusion. She must have felt unwell again, and I expect my mother has come to the rescue. I’ll find out what’s going on and call you back.”

After ringing off she immediately rang Paige, but once again found herself going to voicemail. “Paige, where are you?” she asked. “I’ve just had a call from Miss Kendrick and I’d like to know what’s going on. Please ring me as soon as you get this message.”

—

Paige was curled up in a corner of a sofa in Charlotte’s bedroom listening to her mother’s message, while Charlotte, still suffering with the flu, lay tucked up and fast asleep in bed. Paige was desperate to catch the bug too, so she’d have a legitimate excuse to be off school, but so far, in spite of spending most of the weekend here, she hadn’t produced as much as a sneeze.

Now, with Charlotte’s mother at work all day, she could stay as long as she liked and no one would even know she was here. The trouble was she couldn’t just ignore her mother’s message, or Jenna would end up calling the police or something equally as random, and that was the last thing either of them needed.

They’d had the worst weekend ever. It had made Paige rage inside every time she saw her mum crying, or shouting at her dad, or trying to pry the twins off him. It was like they’d all gone mad, and she despised the way her dad had started shouting into her mother’s face as if he could beat her down with the sheer force of his words. She wanted her mum to stick up for herself and win, but no matter how hard Jenna fought back she never seemed to get the better of him.

Paige didn’t understand it. They’d always been such a close family, but she was coming to learn that things could change with no warning, like her dad going off with another woman—and like people who’d never paid her any attention before, or who didn’t even know her, suddenly making her the butt of their jokes or the focus of their cruelty.

Your face makes me want to smash it up.

Didn’t you know that no one likes an arse-licker?

I think of you, bitch, and I vomit.

Come into school on Monday and get killed.

Oliver Pryce wants you to back off.

Stop bugging people who can’t stand you.

The texts and posts and IMs were coming from loads of different people now, numbers and names she didn’t even recognize. It was like everyone was jumping on board and no one, apart from Charlotte, was sticking up for her. At least Julie was tipping her off when she heard what the Durmites were planning, though she never tackled anyone publicly, which Paige didn’t blame her for, given that she’d been through it before. She definitely wouldn’t want to run the risk of having to endure it all again.

How long did it go on for?
she’d asked Julie over the weekend.

About six months,
came the reply.
It was the worst time of my entire life.

Paige didn’t doubt it, because this was definitely the worst time of hers, and the thought that it could go on for so many more months before they gave up was making her more afraid than ever.

So far today there hadn’t been any texts or posts, though she didn’t believe for a minute that it was all over. They’d gone quiet for long periods over the weekend, but then they’d come back with just as much bad stuff as before. She’d thought about trying to block them, but as much as she hated reading the messages she needed to know what was being said. It was the only way she could stay on top of it.

Looking at her phone as her mum rang again, she felt a sudden flash of resentment and frustration that Jenna hadn’t realized for herself what was happening to her daughter. No one had. They were so wrapped up in what was going on with that bloody woman Martha that they weren’t sparing a thought for anyone else. Not that she wanted their help; they’d only end up making things worse, or confiscating her phone and computer. It was just that they ought to remember that they had children who might need their attention.

“Yes?” she said shortly as she clicked on the line.

“Where are you?” her mother demanded. “Why aren’t you at school?”

“I didn’t feel well so I came back to Charlotte’s, all right?”

“No, Paige, it isn’t all right. You can’t just disappear.”

“I didn’t disappear. You know where I am now, so why are you making such a fuss?”

“Because it’s not acceptable for you to walk out of school without telling someone where you’re going. Things are tough enough at the moment, I really don’t need you adding to them.”

“And I don’t need you getting on my case when I’m not very well.”

“What’s the matter with you?”

“I think I’ve got the same as Charlotte.”

“You don’t sound ill.”

“Oh, so now I’m a liar?”

“Paige…”

“No, it’s OK. I get that everyone thinks I’m a waste of space and ought to go away somewhere and die.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Would you like me to come and get you?”

“What for? I’ll only be in the way at home.”

“Paige, why are you doing this? You know what’s happening with Dad; I don’t want you turning against me too.”

“He’s not my dad, and it’s you who’s turning against me.”

“I don’t understand why you think that.”

“You just are. You never listen to anything I’m saying, you’re not interested in anything I’m doing…”

“You know that’s not true. OK, I’m preoccupied at the moment, but you’re fifteen, Paige, you understand what’s going on, so why on earth are you telling yourself I’m turning against you when you know it’s not true?”

“No I don’t.”

“Yes you do. And why have you pulled out of
Under Milk Wood
? I thought you were mad keen to do it.”

“I told you I didn’t want to be in it, but you weren’t listening. And I don’t want to go on the ski trip at the end of the month either.”

There was a short silence before her mother said, “I’d forgotten about that trip. Why don’t you want to go?”

“Because I don’t.”

“Is Charlotte backing out too?”

“I don’t know. What does it matter? I don’t want to go, end of story.”

“Has Dad already paid for it?”

“Not yet, no.”

“OK. We need to talk.”

“I’m not changing my mind.”

“I’m not saying you have to, but something’s obviously bothering you.”

“Nothing’s bothering me. I’m just telling you—”

“Paige, stop shouting at me.”

“I’m not shouting.”

“Yes you are.”

“I’m ringing off now and
don’t
come and get me. I’m going to stay here, where I know I’m wanted.” Clicking off the line, she took herself off to the bathroom so Charlotte wouldn’t hear her sobbing.

Everything was such a nightmare. Her whole life was falling apart and nothing she did was making it right. She hated herself for being so weak, for not standing up to the Durmites, for picking on her mother, for detesting her father, for wanting to hit Josh and the twins just to shut them up. Her grandma was the only one who really understood, but she wasn’t very easy to talk to, and anyway she had enough on her plate, taking care of everyone now that her dad had gone.

“Paige, I heard you on the phone,” Charlotte said from outside the door. “Don’t cry. It’ll be all right.”

Grabbing a handful of loo roll, Paige dried her eyes as she slid back the bolt to let her in. “Sorry I woke you up,” she said hoarsely. “My stupid mother was having a go. It’s like it’s my fault my dad has left her. How can it be my fault when it has nothing to do with me?”

“Is that what she said?” Charlotte asked worriedly.

Paige shook her head. “Not really. I mean, I don’t know what she’s saying half the time. I’m not sure she does either.” She inhaled shakily and blew her nose. “I’m dreading Auntie Hanna going back to London,” she confessed. “It’ll all be down to me then, and it’s not fair. I don’t want to be caught in the middle, sticking up for my mum, having a go at my dad…He’s the one who’s turned our lives inside out, so he’s the one who ought to be putting it right.”

“Why don’t you tell him that?” Charlotte suggested.