Never Go There by Rebecca Tinnelly

Author:Rebecca Tinnelly
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, azw3
Publisher: Hodder and Stoughton
Published: 2019-03-19T00:00:00+00:00

Nuala

Saturday, 18th November, 2017

‘I know,’ Emma said to her, not stepping aside to let Nuala in. ‘I know who you are, now.’

Emma’s face was pale, but her cheeks were tinged scarlet; she looked almost feverish, the colour adding to her otherwise insipid complexion.

‘And what is it,’ Nuala said, ‘that you think you know about me?’

‘You’re James’s wife. You’re the one who—’

‘Who kept him away?’

‘I suppose so, yes. The one who kept him away.’ Emma moved away from the door, and Nuala could feel her eyes on her as she stepped inside. Could feel the jealousy, in all its forms, seething beneath the surface.

She closed the door behind her and stood in the warmth from the fire, the cold wind, the threat of rain, left outside.

Emma turned the light on in the kitchen, the one, too, above the bar till. The room still looked dark, cramped with furniture that cast shadows on the floor and walls, the absence of customers making it feel smaller still.

‘You’re wearing my jumper,’ Nuala said, looking at Emma’s red hands, imagining them rifling through her things, surprised that she didn’t really care. What did it matter, if Emma touched her clothes, her bag, wore her jumper? Another time in her life she would have felt violated, spied on. But really, these were such trivial things.

She had far bigger complexities to work out.

‘I know,’ Emma said, and she crossed her arms over her chest. ‘I know he’s dead.’ Her voice cracked as she spoke, her eyes filled with tears.

Nuala felt no sympathy. Emma was thinking only of her own loss. No care for Nuala, how she was feeling, how she had coped. Just selfish, inward grief, claiming James’s death as her own source of pain, no one else’s.

How dare she.

The clock above the bar reminded her that she didn’t have long; only forty minutes or so until Maggie came back. But still, that should be more than enough.

‘Don’t apologise, about the jumper,’ Nuala said, switching the topic back, making sure she took the lead in the conversation. She watched as Emma peeled the cashmere from her body, stood before her in a black T-shirt, goosebumps on her bare arms, showing the nervousness of someone caught out. Wondered if this was how James had felt, when Nuala had stood, unsure, before him when he was in one of his moods.

‘Why are you here?’ Emma asked at last, holding out the jumper in her scaly, red hands, looking straight into Nuala’s eyes without blinking, only her flushed cheeks and slight tremble giving away her nerves.

‘You’re shaking, look,’ Nuala said, tucking the jumper under her arm and taking the other woman’s hands, feeling their trembling give her power. ‘It must be the shock.’ Nuala’s own hands were steady. Her wedding ring felt warm on her chest where it hung from the chain around her neck. The jumper in her hands had been a present, last year, from James. He had been hers, the truth of that fact giving her strength.

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