The Playdate by Louise Millar Read Free Book Online Page A

recycling.”
    “We’ve met!” Suzy said, waving at Debs. “Hey, how’s it going?”
    “Fine, thank you,” Debs stuttered.
    “Debs, this is Jez.” Suzy pointed at her husband. He was sohandsome Debs could hardly look at him. She had never looked men like him in the eye, in case for even one terrible second they thought she was flirting with them. The thought of their contempt was much more difficult to handle than their complete blindness to the fact that she was there.
    “Hello,” he said. He was English, with a deep, clipped voice. He gave her a polite smile, hardly registering her at all.
    “Listen, you must come round for a cup of tea,” said Suzy. “I’ll invite Callie, she lives across the road.”
    “Oh yes,” said Debs. “The lady who does the sound effects?”
    “Sound effects?” said Suzy. “Uh, no. I mean, she used to . . .”
    “Oh—ah, I think she said she was going back to work next week?” said Debs. Why couldn’t all these people just leave her alone? Was she getting confused again?
    The woman’s face changed a little. “I don’t think so.”
    Debs stared.
    “Come on, love—it was nice to meet you,” said Allen, beaming at Suzy.
    The couple turned in to their own gate, the man nodding politely.
    “OK, love?” said Allen.
    Debs gave him a peck on the cheek. “Not bad. Had a little fall and hurt my knee, but it’s feeling better now.”
    “Oh dear.” Allen patted her arm.
    As he bent over to put his cricket bag down, she spotted a small piece of the Burleigh teapot lying on the floor outside the cellar door. Oh Lord. It must have fallen through a hole in the plastic bag that she had taken down to the cellar earlier to hide under the floorboards. She marched ahead quickly, before he stood up, and picked the china shard up, pocketing it in her trousers.

8
Suzy
     
    “Hmm, well, at least they don’t look like they’ll be having loud parties . . .” Suzy said as they shut the door to their house.
    “Who—the trolls?” Jez muttered.
    “Jez!” she giggled, hitting his arm. “Don’t. The boys will hear you and repeat it.” Jez winked at Henry, who sniggered, delighted to be involved in the joke.
    “She does seem a little spaced out, though. She thinks Callie works.”
    “That was the best restaurant ever,” Henry shouted, running upstairs to play in his bedroom, holding a balloon the waitress had given him.
    Suzy smiled. “Yeah, that was nice, thanks.”
    “Good,” Jez said.
    They caught each other’s eye for a moment and . . .
    Jez’s phone shrieked.
    “Hang on . . .” he said, answering it. He disappeared into the front sitting room, shutting the door.
    God, she could throw that phone out the window. It burst into their lives every hour, every day, bringing news or messages that took him away from her. Who on earth was ringing him on a Saturday?
    Suzy followed Peter and Otto into the kitchen, trying to ignore it, and put out their train set for them. Things had been brighter this morning and she didn’t want it spoilt. OK, so Jez hadn’t got back in from his night out with Don Berry till four this morning, and OK, he’d woken Otto up by slamming the door drunkenly and then left her to deal with the two-year-old’s cries. But ever since Jez had got up this morning he had been in a great mood. He’d even put his hand round her waist as they’d been talking to the couple next door in a way that strangely reminded her of that day at the lake in Colorado. The smell of him so close had put all her senses on alert. The warm scent of wine and garlic on his breath. The proprietary weight of his hand on her back.
    No, it was exciting, if she thought about it. Something had changed since yesterday.
    Maybe this had all been in her mind. Maybe there was nothing to worry about after all, she thought, replacing the sofa throw that Jez had used as a blanket during the night then dumped on the floor. Maybe he’d just been stressed after all these months of trying to