Anna props herself up on her elbows a little, considering, and says, ‘I tried that already, didn’t I, Eddy?’ Her eyebrows slant together which means she’s about to say something difficult. ‘Look, Ed, I didn’t want to tell you this, but when I spoke to Seb he compared what he’s done with what you did, in Singapore. He said it was the same thing.’
Eddy wilts. ‘What?’
Anna nods. ‘I’m sorry. I know it’s not, of course. You didn’t plan to be unfaithful, you didn’t pay a poor, desperate woman for sex and you came home and told me straight away about what you’d done, so …’
Eddy can feel her eyes on him, anxious for his reaction. Anna’s quiet for a moment, staring at him, before she glances at the laptop balanced on his knees and her face lifts with excitement. ‘Oh my God, Ed!’
‘What?’ Eddy says, nervous again.
‘You remember when you and Blake saw Seb at school and he slammed his laptop shut and you started that whole stupid “Seb’s a spy” gag – can you remember whether it was his school computer?’
Where feelings should be, Eddy’s mind is completely blank. He looks at his wife, mystified, shakes his head, blows out to show that he has no idea, absolutely none.
‘It probably was? He uses it for everything, I’m pretty sure. What difference does it make?’
‘What difference? Ed, if he was looking for sex workers, literally shopping for women to abuse and using school property to do it, then he really is a danger to kids …’
‘What? How?’
Anna rolls her eyes at his slowness. ‘Imagine if a child came into his office, if they’d seen those images …’
‘Anna, come on, that’s pretty unlikely …’
But Anna doesn’t care what Eddy thinks because she keeps talking, ‘He’s being paid by the taxpayer, literally funded by us, the hard-working public, and he’s using that time on school property to look up women to abuse.’
Anna’s talking herself into a rage and Eddy knows that the thrill of it is too alluring for her, he won’t be able to reason with her now, so it’s a relief when a small voice from downstairs calls up, ‘Dad … Daddy?’
He clears his throat and calls back, ‘Coming.’
‘You OK, Eddy?’ Anna asks, clasping his hand briefly, as he stands up, readjusts the tie on his dressing gown to go to their son, while Anna stares at him, her eyebrows lifted in concern.
Eddy nods to show that yes, of course he’s fine, when they both know he’s not. He’s really not fine at all.
Eddy has a lunch meeting with a client in London and while he’s standing in front of the open wardrobe trying to choose a shirt for the day, Anna comes in and immediately hands him the light-blue shirt he’d been looking for. ‘I’ll drive you to the station.’
Eddy frowns; the station is just a short walk away.
‘I’ve got something I want to show you on the way. Come on.’
‘But my train isn’t for an hour, and I’ve got a couple of …’
‘You can send emails while I drive. Please, Eddy. It’s important.’
Ruston is only five miles south of Waverly, but as Anna’s parents moved almost twenty years ago to a more salubrious village in Hampshire, they have no reason to visit. Eddy has come once or twice to buy paint in one of the big industrial estates that seem to be engulfing the small town, but other than that he hardly thinks about the place and Anna almost never mentions it.
Anna is quiet on the drive. Eddy focuses on his phone and does his best to ignore the anxiety nibbling away in his stomach.
Even with the sun shining and autumnal leaves falling soft as snowflakes, Ruston is still an armpit. The centre of town is strangled by a one-way system and many of the shops are boarded up. The only places open are betting shops, takeaways and tired-looking budget supermarkets selling more booze than food. Kids bunking off school and drunks congregate outside, like these grubby places are their church and they’re seeking redemption in a bottle of cheap whisky or energy drink.
A skinny mum pushes a bored-looking toddler and a wall-eyed baby in a pram. She moves like she’s angry, ready for a fight, stopping next to another woman with greasy hair and a pushchair, smoking at a bus stop. It’s jarring thinking about their lives in Waverly occurring at the same time, just five miles down the road.
‘Why are we here?’ Eddy asks nervously.
‘Wait a moment,’ Anna says, keeping her eyes on the road. Eddy notices how tightly she grips the wheel. This is hard for her. She wants to be here even less than Eddy but she’s pushing through her discomfort because whatever this is, it’s important.
They stop outside a row of red-brick houses that doesn’t look so different to their own terrace in Waverly. But these houses have broken kids’ toys in tiny overgrown front gardens, weeds sprouting out of the roof tiles, and one of the windows has been barred up with a metal grate. Anna points to a house in the middle. It has grey net curtains hanging in the window that look like they were once white.