Between Husbands and Wives by Susannah Glenn

Author:Susannah Glenn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pantera Press
Published: 2024-09-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

During the past week, Jon’s taken to working longer hours. In the mornings, he’s gone before I wake up. At night, he’s rarely home before eight.

‘What’s keeping you so busy?’ I ask. It’s his third late night in a row and I’m watching him heat up his dinner in the microwave. As he waits, he takes a beer from the fridge and drinks around half of it in several long loud gulps.

‘Just working on the strategy for the merger. Things are ramping up. The mayor wants me to drill down deeper on the economic case so she can prove the merger won’t achieve the savings the State Government claims it will.’

‘Will the state listen?’ I ask, setting a place for him at the kitchen bench.

He shrugs. ‘The mayor seems to think so.’ Jon doesn’t have time for any additional chitchat. He gives me a quick peck on the cheek as he picks up his knife and fork and heads towards his study. ‘Sorry, babe, under the pump. Don’t wait up. I’ll see you in bed.’

The clock in the kitchen tells me it’s eight-thirty. Jasper is asleep in bed and it’s unlikely Jon will emerge from his study anytime soon. I look around the house, but there’s nothing obvious that needs doing. I think about Courtney’s phone in my new studio but resist the temptation of making another attempt to crack its code, particularly with Jon just down the hallway. I’ve been feeling increasingly guilty about keeping the phone. Lately, I’ve been giving a lot more thought to the idea of returning it to its rightful owner – Courtney’s husband, Rob.

I take a wine glass from the pantry, fill it with white wine from the fridge then rummage through my handbag until I find the small piece of carefully folded paper hidden inside the cover of my diary. I study my handwriting.

Dr Rob O’Leary, GP

57 Kings Parade, Newport NSW 2106

Phone: 02 9877 4621

Email: [email protected]

Finding this information had been relatively easy using a simple Google search, but after I’d finally summoned the courage to call Rob’s listed phone number, I’d discovered it had been disconnected. Similarly, the test email I sent shortly afterwards (from a temporary email account I set up especially for the purpose of remaining anonymous) bounced back as undeliverable. A property search revealed Rob’s house where he also practised from had been sold.

I swipe open my phone, navigate to the White Pages, and type in Rob’s surname. The search finds forty-seven O’Learys living in the greater Sydney area, but none of them with the correct first initial.

Then another thought occurs to me. Perhaps one of the O’Leary families listed here is Rob’s parents? I instantly dismiss the idea of going down this track. The whole point of returning Courtney’s phone to Rob is to do it anonymously. I can’t very well call his parents out of the blue and expect them to give me their son’s postal address without explaining why. Of course, I could pretend to be

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