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       ‘What do we need to do?’

       ‘We can draw up a revision plan together,’ Mrs Anwar said. ‘It will help Scarlett organize her time better, as well as giving you an idea of the amount of effort she should be putting in.’ She turned to give me a smile. ‘We’re not suggesting you’re in trouble, Scarlett – far from it. You’re one of our best students and we want you to get the most out of the next few months so that you achieve the results we all agree you deserve.’

       ‘Thank you,’ Mum said, when I just sat there gritting my teeth.

       ‘As well as the revision plan,’ Mrs Anwar continued, ‘Mr Swift has offered to give you extra support. That could simply be checking with you regularly to make sure you’re keeping to the plan, but if you’re stuck on a particular subject, he can arrange for you to get support from specific teachers. He’s also kindly offered to give you extra revision sessions after class so you can continue to prepare for your exams in a school environment.’

       ‘Does that sound OK to you, Scarlett?’ Mr Swift asked. He was the only one to notice that I hadn’t actually agreed to anything yet. ‘If we can get started straight away, you’ll have a schedule to work to over half-term.’

       I was still playing it cool and shrugged.

       ‘Great, that’s exactly what I like to see,’ Mr Swift said, rubbing his hands together, ‘a student who’s raring to go.’

       ‘We can only make suggestions, Scarlett,’ Mrs Anwar said. ‘It’s you who has to knuckle down and do the work.’

       ‘So?’ Mum asked me.

       ‘Can I think about it?’

       Mrs Anwar looked as if she were about to explode, but Mr Swift played me at my own game. ‘Yes, of course you can, Scarlett,’ he said. ‘For all of fifteen seconds and then you’re on your own.’

       ‘And the longer it takes for you to get this sorted,’ Mum added, ‘the longer you’ll be grounded. It would be a shame if you missed Eva’s birthday party.’

       ‘OK, fine!’ I said and glared at Mr Swift when I added, ‘I’ll do anything you want!’

       There was a sigh from Mum. ‘I hope you know what you’re letting yourself in for,’ she told him.

       In a funny sort of way, I was up for the challenge. I’d started playing men at their own game. I’d had enough of feeling uncomfortable about the way they all looked at me. I hadn’t realized that if I returned that look I could turn them into quivering wrecks. That way I could have them eating out of my hand. All of them.

       7

       The Accusations

      When Freya came into their bedroom in the early hours of the morning, Vikki didn’t complain for once. She didn’t want to lie in bed pretending to be asleep while her husband lay next to her doing the same, but as she went to pull back the covers, Rob jumped up.

      ‘It’s all right,’ he said, ‘I’ll see to her.’

      Freya had climbed on to the bed and kissed Vikki’s cheek. ‘Me watch Peppa Pig with Daddy. You go sleep now, Mummy.’

      Vikki closed her eyes, but the moment she heard Rob and Freya reach the bottom of the stairs, she let out a sob and had to press the back of her hand against her mouth. What had got into her? What was she so afraid of?

      Ignoring her daughter’s instructions, Vikki sat up and rubbed angrily at the tears she didn’t want to fall. After everything they had been through recently, they were meant to be rebuilding their lives. Why couldn’t she do that instead of looking for faultlines? She had the best family, the best husband she could hope for. Why did she suddenly doubt everything? Did she really think there was a problem between her and Rob, or was she imagining it? It had been tough on both of them when she had spent so much time with her mum, but that had only made them appreciate each other more. Hadn’t it made them stronger? It had definitely made Vikki stronger.

      Wrapping her arms around herself, Vikki attempted to pull her life into focus, but her eyes settled on Rob’s mobile phone on the bedside cabinet. She reached for it without hesitation and quickly tapped out four digits before she had a chance to stop herself. She half expected Rob’s old passcode to be rejected. It wasn’t, and a second later the screen lit up.

      Vikki had never checked Rob’s phone before, or at least not without his knowledge. She had answered it often enough when he was driving, and occasionally had a sneaky peek at his messages, commenting on how often Mrs Anwar contacted him and suggesting the Head of School had a crush on him. But Rob deserved her complete faith and she hated herself for what she was doing. She hated herself more when she skimmed through a list of messages that revealed absolutely nothing to justify her doubts. Rob appeared to be more popular with PPI firms and mobile phone providers than he was with real people. A couple of teachers had been in touch and there were a handful of messages from pupils he had given his number to, kids who had needed extra support during the year, but none of these made her stomach lurch; none had been from Scarlett.

      A creak on the stairs gave her a start and she almost dropped the phone as she closed it down and put it back where Rob had left it. By the time he came into the bedroom, she was curled up in bed with her eyes tightly closed.

      She heard him pick up his phone before whispering, ‘I’m making a cuppa if you want one?’

      It was a gesture of kindness that Vikki didn’t deserve and tears threatened again. Rather than look at him, she buried her head in her pillow to wipe her eyes. ‘I’m going to grab a shower first,’ she said, pulling herself up and managing to avoid eye contact.

      Rob was more interested in his phone than his wife’s odd behaviour and said, ‘OK, see you in a bit.’

      Vikki turned towards Rob and watched him disappear out of the room. There had been a time when she would have felt a physical ache whenever they were apart, and she knew Rob had felt the same. She didn’t feel it now; in fact, she was looking forward to time on her own once Rob had set off for work. Was that just growing up and growing used to someone, or was this the problem she had been searching for? When was the last time Rob had ached for her, and what had he done when she hadn’t been there to satisfy his needs?

       8

       Before

       Sunday, 18 October 2015

      Vikki linked arms with Rob as he pushed Freya’s buggy along a winding country road. She liked the feeling of completeness it gave her. ‘I’ve missed this,’ she said, and was surprised to hear a catch in her voice. She had been staying at her mum’s for the best part of a month and while she and Rob had tried to see each other every day, sometimes that hadn’t been possible for one reason or another. Weekends were easier and she intended to keep Rob with her for as much of this Sunday as she could.

      ‘It’s not like we were ever in the habit of going for country walks,’ Rob replied.

      ‘You know what I mean. I’ve missed this,’ she said, giving his arm a squeeze. ‘I’ve missed doing stuff together. I’ve even missed having you looking over my shoulder to check what I’m buying when we go food shopping.’

      ‘Is that all you’ve missed?’

      She squeezed his arm again. ‘Of course

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