The Family Friend by C. MacDonald (love story novels in english txt) 📕

had the same thought. If whoever it is has some sort of telephoto lens, they could, like a sniper in some horrific war movie, be shooting her from anywhere without her ever knowing. And in that case, what other photos could they have? Have they been outside her house? Taking photos through their front window. She looks at the bay window. They took down the chintzy curtains the previous owners left and haven’t got around to replacing them. Likewise, their bedroom window had a blind, but the cord has snapped so they’ve taken the whole thing off. Raf wanted to fit shutters but said they couldn’t afford them yet. Perhaps this might spur him on to do something about it.

‘Do you think it’s the same person as the other week?’ The three of them at the table swing round to Amanda in the kitchen, Bobby lolling across her as he drinks. Erin and Grace catch each other’s eye. Grace knows that Erin hasn’t told Raf about the video on the bank of grass on the seafront. Bobby’s head begins to droop so Amanda shifts him into an upright position and stands staring at them, her elaborate purple dress and wide, innocent eyes making her look almost doll-like. Raf seems to growl as he clears his throat.

‘What happened the other week?’

33

Raf’s shoulders couldn’t be more hunched over if he was scrumming down in a rugby match. He perches on the edge of their sofa, holding Erin’s phone out in front of him as if it were a bomb. The only sound in the room is the roar of the wind battering the microphone of whatever the video was recorded on. The video ends. Erin begins to speak but Raf puts a hand up to stop her. He presses play again. Erin feels like she has a stitch. She can hear Bobby squawking upstairs with Amanda. Soon after Grace left, Raf asked her if she’d get Bobby ready for bed. He didn’t need to explain why. As Amanda crossed the room to the stairs, Bobby clutching at her neck, she mouthed ‘I’m so sorry’ to Erin. But it’s not Amanda’s fault that she lied to her fiancé.

The video ends again. This time Erin decides to let Raf speak first. The hum on the fridge behind her suddenly seems as if it’s being played through a sound system, such is the silence that gathers between them.

‘What happened after this?’ His voice is low.

‘He was stuck in the buggy. I couldn’t get him out.’ A deluge of words tumble from her mouth. ‘He’d been screaming all morning, like screaming screaming. It must have been reflux pain. It was horrible. He was arching his back so much that I couldn’t get him out to give him a cuddle.’

‘So what did you do, give him a slap to shut him up?’ He twists his body to her, expression neutral as his words pierce like a stiletto.

‘I should have told you, I know I should have told you, but –’ She moves across the floor to him, but he doesn’t open up the space on the sofa so she’s forced to perch on the arm. The wind is throwing sheets of rain at the big window, rattling the frames and drawing Raf’s attention back to the halogen glow of the street outside their house. ‘I didn’t want you to see me like that.’

‘Your “team” managed to sweep it under the carpet?’ He glances at her and she nods in response. He bites his top lip and closes his eyes. ‘You weren’t ever going to tell me?’ She feels like she’s onstage and has forgotten her lines, throat dry, pulse racing. Of course she wasn’t going to tell him and her hesitation tells him as much. He sucks air through his teeth, stands up and bangs his shin as he walks towards the hall.

‘You’re going out?’ she says, voice cracking. She wants him to have a go at her, she wants to have it out with him and to be able to explain why she’d behave like that, why she wouldn’t tell him about it. She wants to be able to tell him that she feels like she’s not the mother he thinks she should be, that no matter how many times he reassures her about how good she is with Bobby she can see in his eyes that he thinks she’s failing them. But he’s going.

‘It’s hammering down. Can’t we – Talk to me.’

He stands in the door frame, pulling his long grey waterproof over him. He screws his maroon beanie onto his head and pauses, looking at the floor.

‘Someone is following you around taking photos, videos of you and our son. Think about Bobby. For once in his life, think about him.’ Erin stands, she opens her mouth. ‘What? What are you going to say? That you were thinking of him? That you always put him first? Fuck. I can protect you. My job is to protect you if you’re bringing psychos into our life. But how can I do that if I don’t know what’s going on? And like, what is going on? What else haven’t you told me?’

She goes to him, she’s garbling. ‘I’m sorry, I should – I was just so – I felt so –’ She’s grabbing at his waterproof, smelling the black pepper from his aftershave.

‘Or do I need to protect him from you?’ His words spread a chasm between them. She looks at him, his eyes dewy pools overflowing with disappointment. He tenses the muscles in his jaw and eases her hands off his jacket. ‘I’ve got work, a mountain of work, that I can be doing.’ He slides around her, straining every sinew not to make contact with her, his fiancée, as he walks out of their house.

She goes into the kitchen and flicks the kettle on almost by impulse. A cup of tea will do