Don't Come Looking AJ Campbell (best biographies to read .TXT) 📖

that she takes maximum advantage of her husband’s professional knowledge. Working out is a priority in her life.

‘Luke’s always lovely when he’s here, if that’s any consolation. Let him get over these exams, and you’ll have your boy back. Harry has been dreadfully moody all year.’

‘One can only dream. Luke’s been moody for months, too.’ She throws her hands in the air in theatrical frustration. ‘Roll on a week today, and it’ll all be over.’

Sasha opens the dishwasher and removes three unwashed cups, squirting them with washing-up liquid. ‘Harry’s worse than Luke, I can tell you. From what I can gather, anyway. He’s probably more polite for me than you, though.’ She sighs. ‘It won’t be long before I have George to contend with too. I don’t know, all this male testosterone.’

‘The weather’s holding up for tomorrow. What’re your plans? You still going to open up the house?’ Annie asks as she perches herself on a kitchen stool.

‘I don’t think I need to, do you?’

Annie shakes her head, unclipping the lid of one of her containers. ‘I checked the forecast; it’s going to be warm all day tomorrow. Save yourself the trouble, shut the house and keep everyone outside. They can use the loo in your studio.’ She offers me one of her golden sausage rolls. Their fresh-from-the-oven smell prevents me from refusing. ‘What else do you need me to do?’

‘Nothing, thanks. I’ve no more clients today, and I’m pretty organised. I could do with some help tomorrow setting up.’

‘I’ll pitch in as soon as I get back from the shop.’ She reaches towards the container, patting her firm tummy as if she needs the approval to help herself to a sausage roll. ‘Art told me Marc has gone away to Scotland. That was a bit sudden, wasn’t it?’

Sasha shoots me a warning look as I bite into a mouthful of sausage roll. Flakes of pastry shower onto my lap. ‘A great opportunity came up we just couldn’t turn down,’ Sasha replies. ‘The money was too good. Bit of an inopportune time, what with Harry’s exams and his eighteenth tomorrow, but beggars can’t be choosers.’

‘How long for?’

‘Two weeks,’ says Sasha, making the tea.

‘Two weeks! Not good timing with the boys’ A levels.’ Annie looks at me and says, ‘Luke’s been joining the revision sessions that Marc’s been giving Harry. Neither Art nor I are the academic type.’

‘I’m not sure Marc can teach Luke much more. He’s such a bright boy,’ says Sasha. She prods my arm. ‘Did I tell you Annie owns a boutique up on the High Road?’

‘Square One Womenswear, thirty per cent discount for new clients,’ Annie says, looking me up and down as if it’s a deal I shouldn’t decline. She’s probably right. I feel underdressed in my jeans and favourite trainers that I should have thrown out yonks ago. At least I’ve got a decent shirt on. She gives me the low-down on the latest trends she has in stock. I try to look interested, honestly, I do, but fashion has never been my thing. Not that I don’t take pride in what I wear, it just doesn’t have to be the latest craze.

That twisty feeling is back, knotting my stomach. I’d quite like to have a conversation with this woman. But not in the presence of Sasha. ‘In fact, I could do with something new for the party tomorrow night,’ I say.

‘I’m going there now to relieve my Friday girl, so if you want to come on down, I have a number of items I can see someone as slim as you in,’ she says in that fake confident tone of a saleswoman who has a ton of stock to shift.

Shopping has never been a pastime I enjoy, especially now with post-pregnancy lumps and bumps to my armour. All that traipsing around rails packed with overwhelming choice and trying to look good in current trends under unflattering lighting and distorted mirrors that allow zero forgiveness for having contributed to evolution. I’ve even given up ordering online for myself because I end up with stuff I don’t particularly like and don’t get around to returning, so it ends up in the local charity shop. I tend to brave it and have an extravagant spree once a year, praying for the day I’ll find that magical shop where I’ll spend an hour and leave with enough clothes to stock my wardrobe for the rest of my life.

I gulp down my tea. ‘I have to go and pick up my kids now. Are you there tomorrow morning? I’ll have them with me, but I’ll bring their iPads.’

‘I have bits and pieces to entertain children, so you’ll be safe for a good hour. Saturdays are usually busy, but if you can come before ten, it’s not too bad. To save time, I’ll pick out some items I know you’ll look great in and have them ready for you.’ She turns to Sasha. ‘Fancy coming too? I had a delivery this week. There’s a great maxi that has your name written all over it from the halter neckline to the floor-length hemline. Oh, God, what’s wrong?’

Neither of us has noticed Sasha silently sobbing. Annie rushes to her, looking at me questioningly. She puts her arms around her.

‘Marc’s not really in Scotland,’ Sasha snivels, her shoulders shaking.

Annie looks over at me again, but I look away. This is Sasha’s story to tell. ‘What do you mean?’ Annie asks.

‘He’s left us. And I have no idea where he’s gone.’

Annie can’t find any words, but who can blame her? It’s not every day a friend tells you their husband has disappeared. Annie gawps as she listens to Sasha’s update. ‘Art never mentioned anything to me,’ Annie says. I can’t work out if this bothers her or not. It would if I were her. Jim doesn’t keep anything from me.

Sasha says, ‘Not many people know. I don’t want the kids to find out until Harry has finished his exams.’

Annie, unintentionally I believe, raises her