Don't Come Looking AJ Campbell (best biographies to read .TXT) 📖
- Author: AJ Campbell
Book online «Don't Come Looking AJ Campbell (best biographies to read .TXT) 📖». Author AJ Campbell
Jim goes for a lie down afterwards, and Gill offers to put the kids to bed.
‘I have some work to catch up on,’ I say. ‘Why don’t I do that, and then we can finish that bottle of wine from dinner?’
‘You’re meant to be on holiday,’ she says.
‘I know, but I left early to pick Jim up from Art’s, and there’s a few things I need to finish. I only need half an hour.’
Joe and Isabella kiss me goodnight, and I go to the lounge. I log on to my laptop and deal with a document Arthur has been chasing me for. It can’t wait until I’m back at the station next week. My inbox is chocka, despite me having spent most of the day at my desk. Damn admin! I answer a few important emails and type an out-of-office message.
Next, I pull up the website for Art’s gym. Its homepage heavily focuses on promoting nutritional supplies for bodybuilders – whey powder, energy bars, protein shakes. I browse through the gallery showcasing the onsite equipment captioned with glowing testimonials. There’s a short introductory video. It’s only three minutes long. I press play and watch Art speak about everything his gym has to offer. I play it again but find nothing untoward. Clicking on the Facebook icon, I wait to be redirected. It’s an active page with lots of engagement. Three thousand followers with several regularly sharing their workout achievements and posting pictures of their bulging muscles. I scroll through them, knowing what I want to find, but unsure if I will.
Gill interrupts my thoughts. ‘The kids are both asleep.’ She walks over to the coffee table and shuffles some blocks of Lego into a plastic tub. ‘Wine in here or the kitchen?’
I drag myself away from the screen. ‘Let’s have it in here.’
She plumps the sofa cushions before going to fetch the wine, and I go and check on Jim. He is laying on the bed, snoring. A cool breeze, refreshing in the evening heat, blows through the open window. I grab the chenille throw from the end of the bed and cover him.
I feel the need to go and check on the kids. Isabella is lightly snoring, her body shrouded in her princess-design duvet. The glow-in-the-dark stars I decorated her ceiling with last Christmas twinkle in the darkness. Kissing her forehead, I whisper how much I love her.
Tip-toeing next door to Joe’s room, I repeat my actions. The planet stickers I stuck up for him transform his ceiling into outer space. His pyjama bottoms stop mid-calf, I notice. He has grown so much this year. I make a mental note to order him the next size up. Perhaps he even needs to skip a size? Sliding down the side of his bed, I rest my head beside his sleeping body, inhaling the familiar smell of apple shampoo and thinking how swiftly the years are slipping by. Before I know it, we’ll be buying uniform for secondary school. I draw my legs up to my chest, surprised by how much this saddens me. I sit like that for a while, thoughts of secondary school uniform, homework planners and exams loading my heart with heaviness.
On the way back to the lounge, I text Sasha to ask her how they all are. I’ve quit asking if there’s any news. I’m sure I’ll be one of the first to know when there is.
Gill is waiting in the lounge. She hands me a glass of wine. ‘I’m not going to last long after this. Those kids have run me ragged today. They insisted on a game of hide-and-seek before I read them a story.’
I laugh. ‘You’re too soft.’
‘I’ll be asleep before my head hits the pillow.’ We chat about work and she tells me a funny story about the kids at the park earlier today.
My phone beeps. It’s Sasha answering my text.
Not good here. Harry and Hannah have both lost it. I think I’m about to as well! X
I place my untouched wine glass on the table.
‘I’m going to pop into town tomorrow. Would you like to come? I’m meeting Derek for lunch, but you could join us.’
‘Not for me to disturb a romantic engagement!’ I pick up a packet of gummy bears squidged down the side of the sofa. There’s one left. I squish it between my fingers before popping it into my mouth.
She shakes her head. ‘How many times have I told you. There’s nothing going on between Derek and I.’
‘I know,’ I tease. ‘And there will never be another Michael.’ Widowed at an early age, she has always sworn that no one will ever come close to replacing the love of her life, however hard they try.
‘And on that note, I think I’ll retire for the night,’ she says.
‘I think I’ll go over to Sasha’s. Jim’s out for the count. Could you listen out for the kids, please?’
The roads are clear, and I arrive at Napier Close in no time. Sasha is standing at the door when I get out of the car, raising a waving hand to acknowledge my arrival. Shoes and trainers clutter the usually tidy porch. She kicks them out of the way.
She appears to have shrunk since this nightmare of hers began; the overwhelming weight of her burden drags her shoulders down. Circles have darkened the skin beneath her eyes. Stress attacking her in every form. ‘Thanks for coming over. You didn’t need to, but I’m glad you did,’ she says in a flat voice that doesn’t sound one bit like the bubbly Sasha I know.
I step inside and follow the waft of red wine down the hallway to the kitchen. Is it
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