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You’ve won the lottery?’

‘No and no!’ he said, still grinning.

‘Don’t tell me, you’re pregnant!’ she joked.

‘Mum!’ admonished Katie, her cheeks reddening.

‘No, but close!’ he said. ‘I’ve got tickets to watch the You’ve Got Talent live final in London! They were giving them out at work and I grabbed the final four.’

‘Really?’

‘Wow!’ said Katie, seeming genuinely impressed. ‘Can I come?’

‘I thought we could all go together as a family – it’ll be fun!’ he continued.

‘But Toby,’ Clare said, feeling a rising sense of panic, ‘you know I’m at that, um, conference again tomorrow.’

‘Oh,’ he said, his face falling slightly. ‘But you could meet us … go afterwards?!’

‘I’m not sure – it starts pretty early and lasts … well, most of the day,’ she said, feebly. ‘You know, networking. If I’m starting my own firm …’ She was beginning to hate the lies.

‘Oh,’ he said, the wind firmly out of his sails.

‘I tell you what,’ she said. ‘Let me see what I can do. The venue’s not far from there, so …’

He cheered up at this. ‘And Katie? You’ll come, will you, sweetheart?’

‘Definitely,’ she said, excitedly.

When Clare was settling down with a well-earned coffee, Toby came and sat with her, holding the tickets. The ink was starting to run in the corner of the top one, smeared by the sweat of his thumb. ‘Alfie said no, too,’ he said, sadly. ‘It seems he’s doing something football related.’

‘Oh, don’t worry about it. Look, you and Katie will have a lovely time. And I’ll make sure I’m there,’ she said – which wasn’t a lie, after all.

‘But won’t I look a bit of an idiot with empty seats around me?’ he asked. ‘Like nobody wants to sit with me?’

‘They’ll put someone else with you I’m sure,’ she said. ‘You know, move someone from the back to the front. They’re not just going to let a prime seat stay empty. Plus, who cares? You’re not in it for the positive publicity, and you can’t spend your whole life worrying what other people think.’

‘You’re probably right,’ he said. ‘Or, maybe I could see if anyone else from work wants it?’

‘I’m sure someone will.’

She watched as her husband typed something in on his phone and pressed a button decisively. ‘Group text,’ he said, as he looked up and met her eye.

Moments later, Toby’s phone began to ring. He looked at the caller ID and his eyes widened.

‘Hello?’ he squeaked. ‘Yes. Well, yes, of course. I should have … No, you’re right. Well, yes it would be. Well, yes, us too! OK, see you there.’

He hung up, his face pale, the red blotches reappearing on his neck. ‘That was Hatty,’ he said. ‘She was … rather friendly actually. Seems she’s keen on going – to show solidarity to Martha. She didn’t get her hands on any of the tickets yesterday … and she seemed, well, really nice.’

‘That’s good, right?’

‘Yes. I think.’

Once the kids were in bed and Toby was snoring in front of the news, Clare pulled out Alfie’s bag and emptied its contents into a desk drawer. Then, quietly, she went up to her bedroom and began to fill it with the things she needed: Martha B.’s sunglasses, which she’d squirreled away underneath the underwear in her top drawer, and the top and trouser combination Nadia had chosen for her final outfit. Nadia would be bringing the make-up and hair things, but Clare slipped her own make-up bag in too – just in case.

At her laptop, she printed out confirmation of her train ticket, before clearing the cache on her search engine, which would probably only make things seem more suspicious if Toby decided to check up on her. Feeling like someone on the run, she packed everything into the bag and put a folder on top for good measure – just in case someone decided to take a peek.

She knew that Toby didn’t believe her story of another property conference in Town; she knew that he was worried, and probably a little suspicious about her motives. But she also knew that she wanted to keep her secret, just for one more day.

He’d started to notice things again, in a way he hadn’t for a while. Noticed when she stayed out late or wasn’t home on time. Asked questions. Seemed suspicious and interested. In fact, at long last, showing her that he cared. Just with the worst possible timing.

She was relying on the fact that it would all be over tomorrow; and with Toby and Hatty sitting in the front row, it would be over in rather spectacular style. She just hoped that after what she intended to do, Ann stuck with her and came to her new firm. And that she might still be able to find herself a client or two.

She went back downstairs to her husband, who was watching the headlines with one eye open. ‘Hi, love,’ she said, feeling like a cheating spouse returning after a liaison. ‘Everything all right?’

‘Uh huh.’

‘Nothing on the news we need to worry about?’

‘No, seems fine for once.’

‘Good. Well, I’m off to bed,’ she said, straightening up again. ‘Got to make an early start tomorrow.’ She’d promised Dan she’d be there by 8 a.m.

‘Clare,’ Toby said, as she reached the door.

‘Yes?’

‘Do I need to worry about this thing you’re going to?’

‘Toby,’ she said, with a small smile. ‘Seriously, just trust me – it will be fine.’

She just hoped she was right.

Chapter Forty-Seven

Clare practised her breathing in a way that was meant to relax her, according to internet research. She watched her stomach inflate under her sequinned top and then breathed out through her mouth, deflating her belly like a wasted balloon. In, one, two, three. Out, one, two, three. Her legs stretched before her in satin trousers which Nadia had assured her were ‘flattering’.

Before the Martha B. episode, Clare had been involved in just two live performances. The first had been a recorder recital when she was five. She and the other grade one recorder students had

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