Silence vibrated between them. Amy could see the car keys in a copper pot on the mantelpiece and was tempted to leave the house and go for a drive.
‘If I’m away on Tuesday and you’re away the following week, we’re going to need childcare help,’ he said coolly. ‘Should I ask my mum?’
Amy didn’t look at him, but she was glad he was at least thinking of practical solutions for the situation they found themselves in.
‘It’s not ideal, but at least Tilly’s off school for another week so she can go to their house if it’s easier.’
‘They were talking about taking her to Disneyland Paris. Maybe we can sort that out. Pay for it.’
‘She’d like that,’ said Amy, knowing how much her daughter would love to go to the famous theme park but still feeling like a bad mother. Without childcare, their world just didn’t function.
But childcare has almost destroyed your marriage, a voice in her head reminded her.
It was beginning to get dark outside. Amy didn’t need to look at the clock to know it was after eight o’clock. They had been travelling since lunchtime, avoiding the early-morning start that Juliet, Peter and Josie had made, but still coming back to London as quickly as possible.
Claire had pleaded with Amy to reconsider; Max had tried to persuade them to stay until the Sunday, when they had been originally planning to come home. But Amy had been too embarrassed to remain in Lourmarin, too aware what everyone was thinking and whispering behind her back. And when she’d managed to change her flight and Tilly’s, David had agreed to come home too.
She curled her fingers around the mug and went to sit in the living room. Going upstairs was too confrontational; besides, part of her wanted to hear what David had to say. She willed herself to remain calm, in case Tilly was still awake. So far, they’d managed to avoid arguing in front of her; Amy wanted to keep it that way.
‘We should talk . . .’
‘About what?’
‘Provence.’
‘David, there’s nothing to talk about.’
‘I want to know why you don’t believe me.’
‘Why I don’t believe you? Josie is a beautiful young woman. I found her bra in our bed. Thousands of people have affairs and flings every day. What am I supposed to think?’
‘I was hoping you might trust me. That you’d believe that I love you and wouldn’t do anything to hurt our relationship or what we have as a family.’
Amy pressed her lips together to stop herself from crying. ‘Do you think she’s attractive?’ she said.
‘Objectively, yes,’ he said simply.
Amy snorted.
‘What do you want me to say?’ said David, his voice rising a tone. ‘Lie to you and say she’s not good-looking, or be honest and admit that she is?’
She paused.
‘Is it because we don’t have as much sex any more?’ She could feel her heart beating faster. ‘This is how it happens, isn’t it? We both work hard, we don’t make time for one another, someone comes along . . . someone beautiful, who’s good at flattery . . .’
She was thinking out loud, trying to make sense of it in her own head. Part of her did believe that David still loved her; she had to believe that, because the alternative was too painful to even consider. But she also knew that she had taken her eye off the ball, neglected him in the name of work, and now she was paying the price.
‘Amy, stop it. How many times do I have to tell you, nothing happened between us.’ David stepped towards her.
She wondered what Josie was doing now, where she was. Juliet had already texted David and said they’d put her on a train to Bristol after their flight had landed at Heathrow, and Amy pictured her arriving at Temple Meads and telling Karen everything. Nearly everything. Everything except her intimacy with David. She would tell Karen the story she wanted her to hear, and her old friend would hate her for ever.
‘Don’t come near me,’ she whispered.
‘I didn’t have sex with her,’ David repeated.
It occurred to her that it didn’t even matter. The damage was done because she no longer trusted him.
‘I’m tired,’ she said, feeling totally drained. ‘I think it’s best if you sleep in the guest bedroom tonight.’