The Happy Family by Jackie Kabler (electric book reader txt) 📕

surely that would take a while? And I’ve seen her, remember? Robin, acting oddly in your bedroom and in your bathroom. She’s the only one with the time, here in the house on her own. It must have been her, Beth. I don’t know why; that’s the only thing. It doesn’t make sense to do something like that, but I can’t work out how it could have been anyone else.’

I thought long and hard after that. Thought about how Robin, even though she didn’t live anywhere near me, just happened to see the card I’d put up in the village shop looking for help with the kids and the housework.

Could she possibly have some connection with Lucy’s family and have known who I was all along? And yet, despite the occasional hint of slightly odd behaviour, she’s always been so … so great. So incredibly helpful, a rock, and someone the kids adore. It seems so unlikely that she’d come here with the sole purpose of trying to destroy me, and why wait so long anyway? It just didn’t seem logical to wait until I was really happy, with my mum back in my life, because who could have foretold that? She could have been waiting for years, for decades, for something like that to happen.

Could my past have been something she found out about later, though, while she was working for me? Again, so unlikely. There’s nothing in this house to link me with Lucy Allen and what happened. Nothing. No diaries, no newspaper cuttings. The only other possibility was that somebody told her. But who, and why? The only person in Cheltenham who knows about it is my dad, and she’s never even met him. And if it were me, if I discovered something that awful about my employer’s past, I’d be horrified, yes; it might even make me reluctant to work for them anymore. But would I take it upon myself to wreak some sort of revenge, to punish them for what they’d done to someone I didn’t even know, so many years before? No, of course not. No sane person would do that.

I couldn’t have this conversation with Mum, of course. Instead, I tossed the arguments back and forth in my mind for hours until my head was pounding. I thought about the other stuff too – the central heating, the accident with the trampoline, all of it. And even though it still didn’t really add up, I finally decided that the unease I’ve been feeling about Robin recently was something I could do without. I was struggling as it was, and if Mum was happy to take over Robin’s duties for now …

‘Of course, darling! I’ll even help you recruit someone new before I have to leave. You’re doing the right thing,’ she said and hugged me. I clung to her, muttering my thanks. I made the phone call immediately, knowing I’d chicken out if I waited a moment longer, but when Robin picked up, still sounding curt with me, I lost my nerve a little. I knew I should confront her about the letter, the videos, all of it. But I still wasn’t sure, was I? And frankly, I was feeling too fragile, too exhausted. And so I kept it short and to the point.

‘I’m sorry it’s such short notice, Robin, but I don’t think you’ve been very happy here recently, and it seems silly employing someone when Mum’s here now and can help me out. I’ll pay you to the end of the month, obviously. I hope you understand.’

There’d been a long silence on the other end of the phone, and then she’d simply said, ‘Fine. Say goodbye to the children for me. Bye, Beth.’

Her voice had cracked as she mentioned the children and I wondered if she was crying, and whether I’d made a terrible mistake, but it was too late. And now, as I pull into the surgery car park, clamber out of the Audi and slowly, reluctantly, make my way across the road and into the building, I try to put Robin out of my mind. Today, my focus has to be on keeping my job because if I lose it, if they don’t believe that making and posting those videos was nothing to do with me, what then? How will I get another job with that disgrace hanging over me? What will Jacob do? He might actually try for full custody of the kids, and that … well, that doesn’t bear thinking about. I swallow a sob as I push open the door to my office, hang my coat up, run a brush through my hair, and dab on some lip balm. And then I take a deep breath and go and face the music.

An hour later, I’m back in my office, tears running down my face. I haven’t been sacked; instead, I’ve been told to take some time off work – a month or so. They’re still going to pay me too, and they told me it’s to help me, to give me a break, but it still feels like a punishment.

‘We’ve become increasingly concerned about your mental health, Beth,’ Gabby said gently. ‘After that worrying letter, and now these videos …’

She paused and exchanged meaningful glances with Dr Andrews and Dr Wilson, who were also sitting at the big round table in the doctors’ meeting room. The room was warm and the sickly smell of too much furniture polish mixed with coffee from the pot sitting inches away from me was not helping my still present nausea.

‘The good news is that we haven’t heard anything else from the newspaper reporter who got in touch with Gabby so hopefully that worry’s gone away at least. But the problem is, we don’t know how many of our patients saw those … well, those images,’ Dr Wilson said, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. He’s young – in his early thirties – but dresses like a sixty-year-old, all tweed jackets and