The Perfect Mother by Caroline Mitchell

Author:Caroline Mitchell [Mitchell, Caroline]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781542016643
Published: 2020-01-13T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY

ROZ

By lunchtime, George and I were in a restaurant in Downtown Manhattan. I liked the Hollywood-type setting and took in the pictures of celebrity visitors lining the walls. But today each seat was filled with tourists, their faces alight with wonder as they chatted about their itinerary. I was glad to be wearing the Sketchers that Sheridan had gifted me. The weather was gloomy, in keeping with our visit to the 9/11 Memorial, which made me forget my own worries for a while. George told me of his own experiences of the tragedy, and it was interesting to focus on something different. He took me to Macy’s, and I gladly endured the bracing winds as we took a quick boat ride around the Statue of Liberty. I felt like such a tourist, and wished I could have taken pictures of each trip.

The restaurant was pleasantly warm, and I wiggled my toes as the heat returned to my feet. I observed George check his phone for the hundredth time that day. The closer I watched, the more guarded he became.

I was desperate to talk about what had happened with Sheridan in the lift, but equally scared that my gossiping would get back to her. I missed my phone. I even missed my mam. Pregnancy had opened my eyes, highlighting the importance of the mother/daughter relationship. I picked at my French toast and caramelised bananas, trying to work out a way to separate George from his screen. Feeling the heat of his gaze, I looked up.

He lowered his phone, placing it face down on the table. He had already finished his club sandwich, and all that remained were crumbs on his plate. ‘What’s wrong? Aren’t you having a good time?’

There was no point in asking him outright just yet, if my suspicions were correct. ‘It’s been amazing, thanks. Just my bladder playing up. Do you know where the toilets are?’

George craned his neck behind him towards the far corner. But instead of following his gaze, I reached out, snatched his phone and switched it off.

‘Hey! What are you doing?’ he said, scrambling to grab it back.

‘Sshh.’ I nodded towards the other diners as I held the phone tightly to my chest. ‘You don’t want to make a scene now, do you?’

Grumbling under his breath, George sat back down. ‘Hand it over,’ he spat.

‘Not until you tell me what’s going on. Is Sheridan recording us?’

‘Don’t be stupid,’ he answered, but the fear in his eyes told me I had hit the nail on the head. ‘Now give it back. I need to turn it on.’

I shook my head. If Sheridan wasn’t tracking us, why was he so desperate to get it back? ‘Please, George. I’ve got nobody. I need your help.’

‘You don’t understand.’ He stretched out his hand. ‘There’s a lot riding on this. I could lose more than my job.’

So not only was Sheridan keeping tabs on us, she had something on George. I sighed and handed the device back. Yet his fingers hovered over the on button.

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