‘I’m going. It’s all sorted. Nothing to pay because the girl who backed out is mortified she had to cry off at the last minute. She’s happy for me to take her place.’ The lies were coming easily now, fuelled by anger. ‘I know you’ve nothing on. I’ve been working flat out and I need a couple of days off.’
There was a hard glint in his eyes. ‘You really don’t care about me and my work, do you?’
There was no answer to that, so she busied herself with sorting out the washing-up, rinsing the dirty dishes before stacking the dishwasher.
He scowled and guzzled his beer, almost half a bottle gone before he took it away from his mouth. She glanced at him, wondering if she actually knew her husband any more. Had he changed, or had she just not noticed the things about him that annoyed her now? Maybe it’s me who’s changed. Different expectations.
She thought of James, his gentleness and impeccable manners. How considerate he was. The dress he’d bought her, the lunches out, little treats with morning coffee if he was passing. He did everything for her that she’d like her husband to do, but she knew that sort of consideration really wasn’t in Matt’s make-up. He was a different kind of man altogether, and more of a stranger to her by the day.
A new thought hit her then, making her stop what she was doing. Is James really making me repay the debt, or is it his way to spend time with me?
She followed the logic, like tugging on a fishing line, waiting to see what was on the end of it, unsure where her thoughts would lead. Is he in love with me? The very idea made her blush. Certainly his behaviour was that of a would-be lover, a gentle courtship by a lonely man who was too shy to be up-front about it.
Fiona’s words came back to her then, as she sorted dirty cutlery into the holder; the sharp blast of contempt in her voice when she’d given her the warning. Was it jealousy, or was there something about James that Sara didn’t yet understand? So many questions and uncertainties. At least the weekend would give her a chance to get some clarification and assess the situation, then she could decide what to do for the best. No action without information. She’d learnt that on her degree course. Do the research. The weekend wasn’t a blissful retreat with a lonely friend. It was business. She slammed the door of the dishwasher shut. That felt better.
Matt finished his beer, got another out of the fridge while Sara wiped the worktops. She was stunned by her reasoning, testing out whether it changed anything about the way she felt. James knew she was fundamentally honest, knew her theft had been for Matt and her family, a desperate act when she wasn’t thinking straight. He’d acted out of kindness, wanting to help. Perhaps getting her to pay back the debt with nothing but her company was his way of making her feel better about his generosity.
Matt’s voice made her jump out of her thoughts and back into the room.
‘You’re not listening, are you? Did you even hear what I said when I came in just now?’
She stared at him blankly, stopped wiping and put the cloth back on the sink. ‘Sorry, I’ve got a lot on my mind.’
‘I’ve had a breakthrough.’ There was a smug expression on his face now, his earlier frustration apparently forgotten. He was on his third beer, she noticed, the two empties standing together on the worktop, which probably had something to do with the mellowing of his mood. His smile was a little bleary, his body swaying like a tree in the wind. He’s drunk, she realised, remembering that he’d taken a six-pack of beer into his office earlier. He reached into the fridge, opened another bottle and held it out to her. ‘Celebrate with me.’
She shook her head, still annoyed with him and confused by her thoughts about James. ‘No thanks, I’m off to bed as soon as I’ve finished tidying up.’ She cracked a brittle smile, waiting for him to explain what he was talking about.
He frowned, and tried to put the bottle back on the worktop, but got it wrong and banged it down hard, sending a spurt of beer over the floor. ‘Oops.’ He chuckled. ‘I’ll just have to drink it myself then. Reckon I deserve a celebration.’ He leant back against the worktop, legs crossed at the ankles. ‘I’ve just cracked the code,’ he slurred. ‘Nobody will be able to find it. Honestly, it’s pretty devious, even if I do say so myself.’
‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,’ she muttered as she picked up the cloth again, remembering that she hadn’t wiped the table ready for the morning.
‘I’m talking about a bloody genius bit of work. That’s what. So all I need to do is run a few tests and it’s all ready to load up the content.’
She looked at him then as the implications registered. ‘You mean you’ll get paid?’
He smiled and nodded. ‘That’s right. I know it’s taken longer than expected, but hiding things on the internet is not as easy as it used to be.’ He grinned. ‘Nobody’s going to find this one.’
‘Hiding things?’ She frowned. ‘What things? What do you mean?’
The smile slipped off his face, and his eyes slid to the side. ‘Nothing.’ He downed the rest of his beer, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘You don’t need to know the technicalities.’ He pointed the empty bottle at her. ‘All you need to know is I’ve done a bloody good job and the client is going to be ecstatic. And I’ll get paid.’
Sara’s heart skipped with delight, relief coursing through her body, making her legs feel weak. She swiped the last of the crumbs off the table and into her hand and walked back over to the sink to rinse out the cloth, all her chores finished. ‘Do you want me to do the invoicing for you? I know finance isn’t your thing.’
‘Nope. No need. They’re gonna pay cash.’
‘Cash?’ She frowned at him, thinking she must have heard wrong. ‘Thousands of pounds… in cash?’
He laughed. ‘Brilliant, eh? The tax man doesn’t need to know anything about it.’
‘What?’ she gasped. She’d had enough of deception; wanted the future to be thoroughly legal. ‘That’s no good. It’s got to be done properly.’
He waved the bottle in the air, his eyes telling her he was on his way to being as drunk as she’d seen him in a long while. ‘Oh, I don’t think my client would approve of that. Anyway, it’s not what we agreed. It’s been a cash deal right from the start. No records.’
‘So if the tax man asks, how are we going to explain thousands of pounds going into our account?’ To Sara, hiding money was almost as bad as stealing money, and she couldn’t countenance a second misdemeanour.
‘It’s not going into our account.’ He looked delighted with himself. ‘There’ll be nothing to explain.’
‘But you can’t—’
His face screwed into an angry snarl. ‘Don’t you tell me what I can and can’t do.’ His mood had flipped in an instant, and when he started jabbing a finger at her, she knew better than to argue. ‘I know what the deal is. And I know what I’m doing. I don’t need Mrs I’ve-got-a-business-studies-degree to lecture me, thank you very much. It’s my job and I’ll do things my way.’
He reached out to pick up the remaining bottle of beer, but miscalculated, and it fell to the floor, smashing on the tiles. Sara jumped back, beer splashing her feet and legs, watching as splinters of glass skittered in all directions, glittering against the dark tiles like stars in the night sky.