Too Close to Home

by Susan Lewis

  “I know, but—”

  “I don’t know how you can even speak to them when they’re being so mean to me.”

  “All I said was that I’m going to the party on Saturday.”

  “I bet it was more than that. I bet you know what they’re going to be wearing, and you told them you’re borrowing my blue dress, except no way would you tell them it’s mine.”

  “Paige, that’s not—”

  “Why don’t they ever have a go at you, Charlotte? You say whatever you like to them, but they never turn on you the way they turn on me, and I don’t even say anything.”

  “Then maybe you should.”

  “And what? Get myself beaten up for my trouble? They’re never going to leave me alone, and I can tell you’re going to be friends with them from now on, so you might as well go and be with them now.”

  “Paige!” Charlotte called after her. “Paige, stop.”

  Paige ran even faster, clutching her book bag to her chest, trying to catch her breath as she sobbed. She’d give anything in the world for her mum or dad to be waiting at the gates now, or her grandma, or Auntie Hanna, but the only person there was Lucy, Charlotte’s mum, who would just keep asking her about what was happening with her parents all the way home, and she really didn’t want to talk about them or anything else right now. So she just kept on running, along the street and down the side lane where no one could see her, and where she could hide until Charlotte and her mum had gone home.

  —

  The house was the tidiest Jenna had seen it in a long time, mostly thanks to her mother, who had spent the best part of the day clearing away toys, repacking DVDs, and turning up long-lost shoes, shirts, hairbands, and missing pieces of jigsaws. While all this was going on Jenna had been in town with Bena, picking up groceries, dry cleaning, and assorted presents for upcoming birthdays—and doing her best not to torment herself with what was really going on in her life. She’d also, because Bena had accompanied her to the door to make sure it happened, luxuriated in a neck and shoulder massage at a salon she hadn’t visited in too long, and ended up being talked into a manicure as well.

  She’d known, of course, that Hanna was behind the double makeover of her and the house, not only to try to cheer her up a little but also to get them looking their best for Richard when he came at five.

  No, I am not trying to do any matchmaking, Hanna had hotly responded to Jenna’s exasperated text. I just want you to feel good about yourself so you’re in the right mood to deal with whatever Richard has to say. Will call later when presentation is over. Remember you’re beautiful and I love you very much. Hxxx

  Jenna wasn’t feeling very beautiful or loved as she pulled up outside the house and dashed inside to avoid the rain. In fact, now that she was home and the little perks of the day were over, she was starting to wish she’d gone to collect the children from school, as originally planned. If she had, she’d be too preoccupied now even to think of how she looked or felt. As it was, she was sinking into an awful place of loneliness as she pictured Jack scooping them up as they ran out of school before taking them off somewhere for tea.

  “I’m not having you banning me from seeing them just because I’ve had to cry off a couple of times,” he’d informed Jenna tersely earlier in the day. “I’ll go this afternoon, it’ll be a nice surprise. And I’ll have them home by six.”

  She hadn’t argued, mainly because it would mean a quiet house while Richard was there. Otherwise she’d almost certainly have put her foot down and told him that he didn’t get to pick and choose when it worked for him, as if she had no life, no commitments, nothing outside his and the children’s needs. Never mind that it might be true; she simply wasn’t prepared to have him bursting in and out of their schedules as though he were the only one who mattered.

  “Waffle!” she called as she began unpacking the shopping. “Where are you, sweetie?”

  Expecting to hear him thump down off someone’s bed, or trot in from one of the sofas, it took a moment for her to realize it hadn’t happened. Curious, she stopped what she was doing and went to call him again.

  “He’s up here with me,” Paige shouted from her room.

  Surprised that Paige was home, Jenna shouted back, “I thought you were having tea at Charlotte’s.”

  Paige came to open her door. “I texted to tell you my plans had changed but obviously you didn’t bother to read it.”

  Remembering a message had arrived while she was driving, Jenna said, “Is everything all right with you and Charlotte?”

  Paige gave a surly sort of shrug.

  Sighing, Jenna caught Waffle by the collar as he bounded down the stairs to greet her. “What did you fall out about?”

  “I never said we fell out,” Paige snapped. “Oh, and by the way, someone’s been in my room tidying up. I’ve told you a thousand times…”

  “Grandma can’t help herself, you know that, and she’s not the type to pry, so don’t worry—your secrets are safe.”

  “Who says I’ve got secrets?”

  Jenna merely looked at her.

  “What?”

  “I wish I knew,” Jenna sighed. “I’m expecting a visitor at five. We’ll go over to the office, so—”

  “Who is it?”

  “Nobody you know.”

  “So why can’t you tell me who it is?”

  Biting back a sharp retort, Jenna said, “If you must know, he’s a lawyer.”

  As Paige’s eyes widened, Jenna felt her panicked suspicion. “So you’re getting a divorce?”

  “No, that’s not what it’s about.”

  “So what is it about?”

  “Some things to do with the company.”

  “Does that mean Dad’s coming?”

  “No. He’s taking Josh and the twins out for tea.”

  “So you’re letting him see them again.”

  “I never really stopped it. Are you going out later?”

  “Like where?”

  “Like anywhere.”

  “What difference does it make?”

  Reminding herself that these conversations never led anywhere useful, Jenna simply shook her head and turned back to the kitchen.

  A few minutes later Paige was standing in the doorway.

  “If you’re here to try and pick an argument…,” Jenna said.

  “I’m not. I was just thinking…Is Dad coming in when he brings the others home?”

  “I don’t know. Why? Do you want to see him?”

  “Not really.”

  “So why are you asking?”

  Paige shrugged, watching as Jenna put things away in cupboards. “Do you reckon,” she said eventually, “you two will ever get back together?”

  Jenna’s heart thumped. “You probably won’t want to hear this,” she replied, not wanting to hear it herself, “but I really don’t think it’s what Dad wants.”

  “Have you asked him?”

  “No.”

  “Maybe you should.”

  “It’s not as simple as that.”

  “I don’t see why not. If he knows you want him…”

  “He knows. He’s always known, but it didn’t stop him getting involved with Martha.” Turning to her daughter curiously, she said, “Are you having some boyfriend issues? Is that what this is really about?”

  Paige drew back. “No! What makes you say that?”

  “I just wondered. You know, if there is anything, I’m always here.”

  “Like when you’re not searching for nits, or cooking someone’s tea, or brushing their hair, or looking for their shoes, or giving them a bath, or rowing with Dad…”

  “What’s this about?” Jenna demanded. “Are you saying I’m neglecting you?”

  “I’m just saying, you’re always busy, so even if I wanted to talk, which I don’t—”

  “I think you do.”

  Paige’s eyes flashed. “OK. So when are we supposed to be having our next special time?” she challenged. “I don’t expect you�
�ve even thought about that, have you?”

  Jenna sighed. “The honest answer is no, I haven’t, but not because I don’t want it. It’s just with everything else that’s happening…We’ll work something out, I promise, and you should ask Dad when you’re next having special time with him.”

  “I know when that’s meant to be, but he’s bound to have forgotten.”

  “I’m sure he hasn’t.”

  “Even if he hasn’t, I’m not going. Anyway, he’ll just let me down the way he has Josh this weekend.”

  “Which reminds me, we should do something to try and make up for it. In fact, why don’t you give Flora some special time—you know how much she’d love that—and I’ll do something with Josh and Wills?”

  “Great. Just what I want, to spend my Saturday babysitting a five-year-old while everyone else is at the match or going to a party.”

  “If you have a party to go to…”

  “I don’t, so it’s cool. I’ll do something with Flora. Happy now?”

  Jenna put a hand to her head. “Paige, I don’t know what you want me to say.”

  “You don’t have to say anything. I get how much I matter round here.”

  “Stop that right now,” Jenna snapped. “Don’t you think this is hard enough without you constantly getting at me? Why don’t you try to be helpful, or sympathetic, or a grown-up for once in your life?”

  “Because I’m not a bloody grown-up,” Paige shouted back. “I’m fifteen, and you’re expecting me to behave like I’m thirty. And you’re not the only one he’s gone off and left. He left us too, but no one cares about that.”

  “Everyone cares about it, including him,” Jenna cried, “but right now there’s nothing I can do to change it. You need to speak to him. Ask him to explain—” She broke off at the sound of the doorbell. “That’ll be the lawyer,” she said tiredly. “We’ll continue this later.”

  Without answering, Paige stood sulkily aside so Jenna could go to the front door.

  “Richard,” she said warmly, inviting him in from the porch. “Did you get my message? I could have come to you.”

  “It’s no problem,” he assured her, ruffling the fur of an enthusiastic Waffle. “I was happy to get away from the office. And who are you?” he asked the dog.

  “This is Waffle,” Jenna said with a smile. “As you can see, he doesn’t like to be ignored.”

  “Which makes him just like my own retriever,” he chuckled, “and if I had my walking coat on, I could probably produce a treat.”

  “Don’t worry, he doesn’t go short,” Jenna assured him. “Please, come in. Can I get you some tea or coffee?”

  “Only if you’re having something,” he responded, breaking into a smile as he spotted Paige.

  “This is my elder daughter, Paige,” Jenna told him. “Paige, this is—”

  “Richard,” he interrupted, holding out a hand to shake. “It’s lovely to meet you.”

  “And to meet you,” she replied politely. “Mum says you’re a lawyer.”

  His eyes turned playfully wary. “I hope that doesn’t paint me in a bad light.”

  She almost smiled. “I suppose that depends whose side you’re on.”

  He laughed. “Well, today it’s definitely yours. Am I allowed to ask what school you go to?”

  “The Landings.”

  He seemed pleased. “I have a son who goes there,” he said. “Perhaps you know him.”

  To Jenna’s surprise Paige’s face flushed crimson, though it was doubtful Richard noticed, as his phone rang at that moment.

  “I’m sorry, will you excuse me?” he said. “This is my other son, who’s ringing to let me know how he got on in an exam today. It won’t take a moment.”

  As he turned away to take the call, Jenna said to Paige, “Are you all right?”

  Still flushed, Paige muttered, “Of course, why wouldn’t I be? And you don’t have to go over to the office on my account. I’m going back upstairs.”

  “Do you want a drink?”

  “I had one when I came in. Oh, by the way, I’ve got a new art project. We’re supposed to make a Venetian-style mask.”

  Jenna regarded her steadily. “Are you going to ask Dad to help you?”

  Paige shook her head as she glanced at Richard. “I thought you might, if you can find the time.”

  Though Jenna was pleased to be asked, she couldn’t help the wrenching sadness inside. Jack had always helped with the art projects. “We’ll make a start over the weekend,” she promised as Richard finished his call.

  Saying no more, Paige took herself back to her room.

  A while later Jenna and Richard were seated either end of the kitchen sofa, with two mugs of tea and a detailed copy of the auditor’s report between them.

  “Basically, what it’s telling us,” Richard was saying, “is that the sums obtained from your contributors remain the biggest and most immediate problem. The good part of that is there were no hidden issues waiting to bite us. The not-so-good part is that the actual amount is a little more than initially thought, but luckily not significantly so. I know your husband claims that various marketing packages were being offered in return for the payments, but there doesn’t seem to be any evidence of these packages actually existing. Certainly there are enquiries, proposals, and estimates that would suggest some efforts have been made in this direction, but as far as Sean could ascertain, no contracts have been signed with a supplier, so there is no product, as such, for your company to provide in return for the writers’ investments.”

  Jenna’s throat was dry; she felt overwhelmed by disappointment and humiliation. “So he really has cheated them,” she said quietly.

  Richard’s eyes were gentle. “I’m afraid that is how it’s looking,” he agreed.

  She tried to swallow. “So what happens next?”

  He gave it a moment, apparently waiting until he was sure of her complete attention. “You have a couple of options,” he replied in a tone that held no hint of foreboding. “You can report it to the police, which is actually what should happen now that you know a crime has been committed, unless you want to find yourself facing a charge of conspiring to pervert the cause of justice, and I’m sure you don’t.”

  Jenna felt the blood chilling in her veins. “So I will be held accountable?” she said.

  “It’s certainly possible, unless we can prove that you knew nothing about it.”

  “I didn’t,” she assured him. “I know that sounds unlikely, but I swear I had absolutely no idea.”

  “I’m not doubting you, but if this does go any further, there’s every chance the Crown Prosecution Service will hold you and your husband jointly responsible. Unless, of course, your husband is prepared to admit that he went behind your back to obtain the money. Do you think he would?”

  Jenna’s sigh caught in her heart. “The honest answer is that I don’t know,” she replied. “Until all this happened—” She cut herself off, not wanting to get into some excruciating self-pitying diatribe about how he wasn’t the man she’d married and how betrayed she was feeling. “My biggest fear,” she said, “is that he’s trying to get me sent to prison so he’ll get custody of the children.”

  Richard’s eyes narrowed. “Has he said as much?”

  Jenna shook her head. “No, but if he could land it all on me—”

  “Let me stop you there. He really won’t be able to do that. There is far too much incriminating evidence in his own files and emails for him to escape prosecution. But before we go any further down that road, let’s take a look at a second option.”

  Relieved to know there was one, though still anxious over what it might be, she waited for him to continue.

  “We can be fairly certain,” he began, “that none of your contributors has gone to the police themselves yet. If they had, someone from the Fraud Squad would already have been in touch. I take it no one has?”

  She shook her head. “Unless they’ve spoken to Jack and he hasn’t told me.�
�

  “I think that’s unlikely, because if there had been contact they’d have taken your computers by now. So for the moment it would appear that the writers are still prepared to believe that the marketing strategies they’ve been promised will go into action as soon as the site goes live. However, as we know from recent emails, some are already beginning to harbor suspicions, and the longer the site launch is delayed the greater the probability becomes that someone will contact the police. So what I’m proposing, or asking, actually, is how possible would it be to repay the money, preferably within the next couple of weeks?”

  Jenna’s insides jarred as her hopes fell into despair. “Not possible at all,” she admitted. “I have just over fifteen thousand pounds in my personal account, which doesn’t cover it, and anyway I’m going to need it for the children and me to live on until I can find some sort of job.”

  “And what about your husband? Could he find the money?”

  A fleeting image of Jack’s wealthy girlfriend flashed in her mind, but she wasn’t going to bring her up now, when Richard was watching her so closely. How pathetic he must be finding her, how stupid and naive to have got herself into this position. Not that it should matter what he thought, but for some reason it seemed to. “He’s claiming not to have any,” she replied. “He says everything he transferred from the company has gone, spent by me. On the family, of course, not me personally.”

  Nodding his understanding, he said, “If necessary we’ll ask him to provide proof of his finances, but first I think we need to establish if there is a way to avoid a prosecution by refunding the money. Do you have a mortgage on this house?”

  She shook her head. “We bought it outright from…” Her eyes went to his. “I don’t think we do,” she corrected, “but for all I know he might have taken one out without me knowing.” Please God, don’t let that be the case. If they owed money on the house on top of everything else, they were never going to survive this. They’d lose their home and their liberty, the children would be taken into care…

  As though sensing her rising panic, he said quite firmly, “It’s highly unlikely he’d have been able to obtain a mortgage without your knowledge.”