‘I know you did, sweetheart,’ said Huw, pulling out a chair to sit next to her.
Katy could see Viola out of the corner of her eye, smirking at the kitchen sink. And in that moment she knew. She just knew her cat’s disappearance had something to do with her sister.
Katy stood up so quickly that she almost knocked over her drink. She heard Huw cry out in surprise. ‘It was you, wasn’t it?’ Katy cried. ‘You’ve done something to her! You never want me to be happy.’
Viola looked like she’d been slapped. Katy couldn’t decide if it was because she was actually standing up for herself, or that she’d accused her of doing something unspeakable. ‘Of course not,’ snapped Viola. ‘My God, I’m not a monster. She probably just found another family. Cats aren’t loyal creatures, Katy.’
Viola glanced at Elspeth but Katy couldn’t read her mother’s expression.
Later, as Katy was passing the sitting room, she heard Elspeth’s clear voice ring out across the hallway. ‘I do hope you’re not responsible for Mittens going missing,’ she said. Katy hovered by the door, holding her breath. She could just make out Viola sitting in the armchair by the window, her legs curled underneath her, a copy of To Kill A Mockingbird in her lap, with its vibrant orange cover.
‘Why do you always have to assume I’m nasty, Mother?’
Elspeth pressed her lips together in answer.
Then Viola glanced up at where Katy was hovering, a nasty smile on her face. It was me, her expression seemed to taunt and Katy felt a surge of rage so fierce that she had to clench her fists by her sides, her nails pressing into her palms until they drew blood.
Either Viola was pretending because she wanted to upset Katy or she had had something to do with Mittens’s disappearance. Either way, Katy knew she’d have her revenge.
And she was willing to wait.
34
Kathryn
‘Do you have to go today?’ asks Ed, sitting up in bed. He’s wearing his Mr Lazy pyjamas and the T-shirt stretches over his belly. ‘It’s our weekend. Family time. We never see you on a Saturday any more.’
Kathryn sits on the edge of the bed to pull on her opaque tights. ‘She’s my mother.’
‘Adoptive mother.’
‘And she has no one else.’
‘Maybe she should employ two people. It’s a lot for you to take on.’ His hands move to her shoulders: they feel warm through her blouse. ‘You’ve got two sons and a husband. We need you too.’
‘Please. Don’t make me feel guilty.’ She moves away from him and steps into her skirt.
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to come out like that. But with Jacob and everything he’s been through …’
‘It’s one day a week.’
‘Two, actually.’
She tuts. ‘You’re at work on Wednesday and the boys are at school. You don’t even notice I’m not here. I even leave you meals to cook for the boys – if you remember to defrost them.’
‘Actually,’ she can hear the hurt in his voice, ‘I miss you. When you’re not at your mother’s, you’re at the gallery. You pull away from me when I try to kiss you or hug you. I’m –’
‘You’re what?’ she snaps. ‘Because suddenly this is all about you. Don’t worry about the fact I’ve got so much on my plate I feel like I might explode. That I’m constantly worrying about Jacob or my mother or those bloody gold-diggers she employs. Or that the gallery isn’t making enough money. Or that I never get a minute, not a minute, to myself. And on top of that I’m supposed to be this perfect wife to you? But do you know what?’ Her voice has risen so much she’s worried she’ll wake the boys. ‘You’re just another thing demanding my time at the moment.’
He looks as though she’s punched him.
‘And instead of sitting there bitching to me about it, why don’t you get off your backside and actually help me? Why don’t you – Oh, I don’t know!’ She flings her arms out. ‘Cook a meal so that I don’t have to worry about it when I get home. Or put the washing on. Or even – here’s an idea – stack the dishwasher now and again.’
He opens his mouth to speak but no words come out and his lips hang there, like a wet fish.
‘That’s what I thought,’ she says, zipping up her skirt. ‘Can you at least make sure the boys eat properly today? And, no, that doesn’t mean taking them out to fucking McDonald’s.’ She’s so angry her heart is booming in her chest. She grabs her hairbrush from the dressing-table and slams out of the room.