The Secret Shopper's Revenge by Kate Harrison

Author:Kate Harrison [Harrison, Kate]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Classics, General, Fiction
ISBN: 9781409106555
Google: MccLYlDYzJoC
Amazon: B0050C86XQ
Publisher: Orion
Published: 2009-07-23T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY

Emily

Travelling in the back of the car has sent me travelling back in time. At a guess, I am now thirteen years old, a primordial soup of hormones and resentment. The only difference is that instead of being wedged in between my sister and the dog in the back of a Vauxhall Cavalier that overheats every twenty miles, I am wedged in between my son and several suitcases, and I’m overheating every twenty seconds.

How dare he? My anger with Duncan increases the closer we get to Somerset. I suppose I shouldn’t be that surprised by what he’s done. He’s been using similar techniques since we met in the first year at Rowminster Comprehensive nineteen years ago. Even as a weedy eleven-year-old, he managed to kiss all the girls in my class except me. When we were reunited working at the bank seven years later, he insisted he only kissed them to get my attention. For a while, he actually made me believe it.

Heston, Reading, Chieveley, Membury, Leigh Delamere: I tick the service stations off in my head as they whiz by. I’m trying to work out what to say to my parents, but my mind goes blank whenever I reach the point where they ask, ‘And when did all this happen?’

‘Nine months ago. I’ve just been waiting for the right time to mention it.’

Oh yes. That’s where it gets tricky.

‘Need me to stop, Em? I know how small your bladder is!’

I squirm in the back seat. I suppose Heidi’s bladder has the capacity of a small reservoir, and her pelvic floor muscles could match the Thames flood barrier when it comes to holding back the tide. Her smile muscles seem underdeveloped in comparison, but I suppose you can’t have everything.

‘I’m fine, thank you.’ I’m lying. I really could do with the loo right now, but I’m not going to give him the satisfaction.

Duncan switches on the radio and U2’s ‘With or Without You’ fills the car. He tried chatting about the weather earlier in the journey, but Heidi and I both refused to play ball. I suspect that Heidi’s quite pissed off. It’s bad enough having to spend a weekend with her boyfriend’s baby, but having the boyfriend’s wife tag along is a twist she clearly wasn’t expecting. I know she’s a scarlet woman and I should hate her guts, but I don’t. All my hate cells are focused on my husband.

Eventually, with my bladder approaching bursting point, we leave the motorway and drive into Bridgwater. Heidi gawps. I’m guessing that her image of the West Country is all thatched pubs and rosy-cheeked scrumpy-drinking farmers, rather than corrugated iron industrial units and whey-faced scrumpy-drinking wasters. Duncan speeds up until we turn off the main road and Somerset stereotypes are restored. Sheep stare after us as though they’ve never seen a car before. A chocolate-box pub lists so badly it looks like it’s had one too many. Cardboard signs advertise farm shops selling ‘organic Cheddar, tomatoes and potatoes’.

And then we’re on the edge of Rowminster, and I feel myself regressing still further.

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