Read Online A Question of Identity by Anthea Fraser - Free Book Online Page B

Where, she thought, her throat tightening, he immediately fell asleep, while she lay tensely awake, listening for Alice’s inevitable cry.
    Jenny could hear her now through the open door, chuntering away to herself in her playpen. The fierceness of the love she felt for her baby had taken her by surprise, and, looking back, she admitted that since her birth Daniel had been assigned a back seat. Alice needed her, and it seemed Daniel did not, though which had come first she could now not be sure.
    Then, when she was at her lowest, Paul had come on the scene – successful, debonair Paul, seemingly without a care in the world and with at least one divorce behind him. He had pressed all the right buttons, showering her with compliments, buying her chocolates, taking her out for lunch, and suddenly there was excitement in her life again. It was wrong – she knew that – and she kept promising herself she’d end it. Just not yet.
    But procrastination was dangerous. Though they’d met a month ago, when he’d come into the florist’s where she worked, they’d not yet slept together. Their affair – if it could be called that – had consisted of phone calls, lunches out, and increasingly passionate kisses in the car, reviving memories of her teenage years. Then, last week, Paul had suggested coming to the house after work.
    â€˜Look,’ he’d argued, ‘we might as well face facts. I want you, you want me, and your husband considerately goes away. What could be better? We have a warm, comfortable house at our disposal – a distinct improvement on a car seat! – with only a baby as chaperone. And she’s not going to tell, is she?’
    The idea had excited her, and, like a fool, she’d agreed. Paul had arrived with a bottle of champagne, but throughout the meal the atmosphere between them grew increasingly electric and she began to panic. Then, just as they finished eating, Alice had awoken and refused to be comforted, and, with a mixture of relief and disappointment, she’d insisted that Paul leave. He’d been very tight-lipped about it, and the phone call Catherine intercepted had been to suggest a return visit. And Jenny knew only too well how that visit would end.
    The phone interrupted her musings, and as she lifted it she heard traffic noise before her husband’s voice.
    â€˜Hi, sweetie. I’m on my way, but I have to call at the office to collect some papers, so—’
    â€˜But that’s miles out of your way! It’ll add a good hour to your journey!’
    â€˜I know, it’s a pain, but I’ll need them first thing on Monday.’
    She tried to keep her voice level. ‘I was expecting you any minute. When
will
you be home?’
    â€˜I was late leaving, so not before eight, I’m afraid.’
    â€˜Then you’ll miss Alice,’ Jenny said tautly, ‘and you haven’t seen her for four days.’
    â€˜I know, but tomorrow’s the weekend . . . OK?’ he prompted, when she didn’t speak.
    â€˜I suppose it will have to be.’
    â€˜Give her a big kiss from me. See you soon.’ And he rang off.
    Turning quickly, she hurried into the adjoining room and scooped the baby out of her pen.
    â€˜Bath time!’ she said unsteadily, kissing Alice’s curls and wetting them with her sudden tears. Holding the child tightly to her, she carried her upstairs.
    Fifty miles away in Marsborough, another homecoming was not going as planned. Kevin Coombes strode into the house just after six, brushing past Lucy in the hall, and without a word made straight for the drinks cupboard and the whisky bottle. She watched from the doorway as he poured himself a generous measure and tossed it straight back.
    â€˜Bad day at the office?’
    â€˜You could say that.’ He refilled the glass, frowning as the two little boys came running into the room.
    â€˜Daddy!’ They hurled themselves