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The Younger Wife(72)

Author:Sally Hepworth

The next step was to remove herself from temptation. This was important, apparently. Don’t remove the temptation, the psychologist had said. Remove yourself.

It won’t be easy. In fact, it will feel entirely unnatural, he’d warned. It might mean leaving the store. It might mean starting a conversation with someone when you least feel like it. It might mean drawing attention to yourself. Inviting attention. A circuit breaker, so to speak.

The pressure inside her was building. Tully tried reminding herself of the guilt she would feel afterwards. Lately, the guilt had become even more debilitating than the urge itself. Not to mention the terror of getting caught. After the incident at the department store, the police had put a note on her record, which meant that if she was caught shoplifting again, she would be prosecuted. She imagined having to tell Sonny she’d been caught. She imagined the boys finding out. Their friends’ parents gossiping about it.

Her grip tightened on the bottle as she held it over her bag. Then, at the last minute, she dropped it onto the floor, hard.

‘Whoops,’ Tully said as it smashed into pieces.

Three women nearby looked away from the shelves to the broken bottle. One of them was a woman about Tully’s age with twin toddlers strapped into a double pram and a newborn dangling from a pouch on her chest. ‘Oh, phew,’ she said. ‘I thought one of my kids did it!’

‘Me too,’ muttered another woman, whose little boy kept kicking a ball despite her begging for him to stop.

‘I’ll call an attendant,’ said the third, a helpful woman in her seventies, carrying just a small basket.

All of them smiled at each other. And Tully felt something, a tiny thing, release in her.

‘Thank you,’ Tully said. ‘That would be a great help.’

She couldn’t wait to tell Dr Shearer.

41

RACHEL

Rachel stood on her father’s doorstep holding a box of red velvet cupcakes with cream cheese frosting. She knew Dad wouldn’t be home; he always cycled on Saturday afternoons. That was why she’d chosen this time.

Heather looked surprised when she answered the door.

‘Oh,’ she said. ‘Hi, Rachel.’

‘I brought cupcakes,’ she said brightly, opening the box. ‘To celebrate you setting the wedding date.’

Heather was wearing jeans with a hoodie that belonged to Dad and she looked tired, as if she’d just woken up. ‘That’s very sweet of you, but your dad isn’t home. He’s gone cycling.’

‘That’s okay,’ Rachel said. ‘You and I can hang out.’

‘Oh,’ Heather said. ‘All right. Well . . . why don’t you come on in.’

Rachel followed Heather into the kitchen and took a seat at the counter. The place was immaculately clean, apart from a half-drunk bottle of wine on the counter, probably from the night before.

‘Cup of tea?’ Heather said.

‘That would be lovely,’ Rachel replied.

Heather wandered around the kitchen, opening two cupboards before finding the correct one. There was definitely something off about her. She rubbed her stomach absently while she waited for the kettle to boil.

‘Are you feeling all right?’ Rachel asked.

‘Fine,’ Heather said. She got out the teabags. ‘Regular tea or herbal?’

‘Regular,’ Rachel said. ‘With a splash of milk. Have you done any wedding planning?’

Heather looked up, pausing from the tea-making for a second. She seemed apologetic. ‘Listen, I’m sorry about how we announced setting the date. It must have seemed very insensitive, us bringing it up straight after the auction.’

‘You didn’t bring it up,’ Rachel said. ‘It was Dad.’

‘Well, yes.’ She smiled. ‘But I did tell him it wasn’t the best idea.’

Rachel feigned a grimace. ‘I bet he didn’t like that. He doesn’t like to be told, does he?’

Heather looked uncertain. ‘Well . . .’

‘I imagine he was pretty angry about what Mum said at Miles’s party too. About making his life hell?’

Heather put the teabags in the mugs. ‘That was a bit weird, wasn’t it?’

‘I thought so. And it’s not the first time Mum’s said it, either. She keeps saying things like that – about Dad hurting her.’

‘Really?’

Rachel nodded. ‘I mean, she’s not in her right mind, clearly. I would totally discount it, if not for . . .’ Rachel trailed off.

Heather was watching her intently now. ‘If not for what?’

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