Plan B by Emily Barr Read Free Book Online Page B

frowned as she poured Hugh and herself a large glass each of Cloudy Bay. She reminded herself that she did love having him around, when he was around. He had worked away for years, but she still looked forward to his return. A friend whose husband worked in New York for three weeks every month had told her that he often took her by surprise by coming home. He didn’t turn up out of the blue; she just forgot to expect him. She had told this to Jo conspiratorially, expecting her to make the same confession. She hadn’t been able to. She spoke to Hugh every day, she knew when to expect the sound of his key in the door. She was pleased to see him. She really was.
    And when he was home, she could relax. She had trusted Hugh implicitly, until recently. Now, as she put the wine back in the fridge, she tried to remember when, exactly, she had started to suspect that something was awry. Eighteen months ago, she thought. Little things did not make sense. She tried not to think about it, as a rule. She loved him, and he adored her. They had been married for eight years and she couldn’t imagine being without him. Everyone had been surprised when she married him. He had not been smooth or suave, but he had been real. They had thought he wasn’t her type, but he was. Something about him had immediately made her feel comfortable. She could say anything to him, do anything with him.
    He had been in Paris for a whole week, and she had missed him. She wondered why, exactly, he had needed to be in Paris for a whole week. Whether he had been alone in Paris, all week.
    She and Oliver coped remarkably well without him.
    It must be the case, she thought, that their relationship simply worked better that way. They were both capable, both strong and independent, and they trusted each other. People sometimes mistook them for brother and sister, not just because they were both tall and fair, but because they had been together so long they had a common set of mannerisms, a full complement of catchphrases. They were each other’s other halves.
    She held out a glass, and Hugh took it.
    ‘Cheers,’ he said. ‘I missed you.’
    She clinked her glass against his. They were drinking from the enormous glasses that Hugh’s brother Peter had given them for Christmas. He had always complained that their wine glasses were too small. In fact Jo had liked the old ones, which had, she felt, implied a pleasing degree of moderation and maturity. Still, these new ones were fabulous. They were also deceptive.
    ‘I did an experiment with these glasses while you were away,’ she told Hugh. ‘They take a third of a bottle each.’
    Hugh smirked at her. ‘Sounds like a good experiment.’
    ‘Your brother’s trying to get us drunk.’
    ‘He’s a pisshead. He wants to bring everyone else down to his level.’ Hugh put his glass down on the table and produced two carrier bags. ‘Here you are, Olly,’ he said, handing one over. ‘One for you and one for Mummy.’
    Oliver reached straight into his bag and produced a toy aeroplane. ‘A plane!’ he exclaimed. ‘I wanted an orange one,’ he added, frowning at his father.
    ‘I know you did,’ Hugh admitted. ‘They didn’t have an orange one. They only had blue ones.’
    ‘And blue ones are very nice,’ said Jo. ‘Olly, what do you say to Daddy?’
    ‘Fanks, Dad,’ said Olly, who was already flying his plane around the room.
    ‘Hey,’ Hugh remarked to Jo. ‘I had a dream last night that we were having dinner with Bill and Hillary Clinton.’
    She looked at him and roared with laughter. ‘You had a dream that Bill Clinton was coming on to me, you mean, don’t you?’
    ‘Maybe.’
    ‘You’re obsessed with that man’s sex life, Hugh. I will never shag Bill Clinton, OK? I never would. I’m sure he’s very adept, but not my type.’ Jo peered inside her bag and sighed. ‘And Hugh,’ she added. ‘For Christ’s sake. Stop buying me perfume. I’ve got stacks of the stuff and I only wear Calvin