My Husband's Secret by Karen Clarke

Author:Karen Clarke [Clarke, Karen]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2022-05-13T12:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

Caitlin

‘Let go of me.’ The woman shook off my hand and stared at me, eyes wide with shock. Then she turned and ran.

‘Wait!’ I set off after her as she headed for the sloping path that led to the beach. ‘Come back!’

Glancing over her shoulder, she tripped, arms flying out to the sides, but didn’t stop. She was an incongruous figure in her suede ankle boots, knee-length puffer coat and knitted hat, small and slight but surprisingly fast. I was struggling to catch up, despite my daily runs on the beach, which I hadn’t bothered with for the past few days.

Finally, down on the sand and hidden from view by the rock face, the woman stopped. She was panting, the tip of her nose bright red, the only spot of colour in a pale, narrow face.

This was the woman Jack had left behind. As soon as I’d heard her voice on the phone, my antennae had tingled, a spike of cortisol rushing through my body. It was her. The story she’d spun about book research hadn’t rung true, the words too fast, her voice falsely bright. She didn’t even tell me her name yet expected me to rush out and meet her.

‘Don’t come near me,’ she warned, holding a hand out.

‘I thought you wanted to talk to me.’ I stepped closer, trying to get a clear look at the face that Jack had forgotten. She was in her late thirties at a guess, fine lines around her eyes, which were small and icy-blue beneath pale brows, her lips a thin, hard line. She was shorter than me by a couple of inches, with bony hands and skinny calves that gave her a fragile air, yet her glare was steely and determined.

‘I wanted to get you away from the house.’ Her voice sounded weak in the clear, bright air, the vowels short and precise. ‘I didn’t want him to see me.’

Him. ‘You spoke to Jack yesterday.’ The woman didn’t deny or confirm it but took another step back. ‘He doesn’t remember you.’

‘Not yet.’

‘You sent me a card, a warning.’

‘I shouldn’t have done that.’ Her gaze slid away. ‘I didn’t know then that he’d lost his memory.’

I swallowed, mind crowding with questions. ‘How did you find us?’

‘It wasn’t hard, once I’d spoken to the hospital and they told me Jack’s wife had picked him up. Your name and number is in the phone directory.’

‘Why didn’t you report him missing if you care so much?’

‘You know nothing about me.’

‘Jack is my husband.’ It seemed important to make that clear. ‘You knew he was still married?’

‘He left you.’

This simple confirmation that she knew things about me, about my relationship with Jack, hit me like a kick to the chest. ‘We’re back together now and he doesn’t remember you.’ Questions fought for prominence – How did you meet? What did he tell you about me? What did you do together? Why did he leave you? – but already, I wanted our interaction to be over.

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