The Siren Read Free Page B

about getting herself to a point where she could afford to be sentimental. The chance to become as lucky as
Kimberly.
    She lifted Riley on to the settee, and he opened his eyes. ‘Hi, Riley. It’s Rachel.’
    ‘Where’s mummy?’
    ‘Gone shopping.’
    That satisfied him clearly. He was still drowsy and turned his head to one side.
    ‘Sleepy boy,’ she murmured and stroked his hair. He seemed oblivious to her and a minute later she was in the kitchen with the hob alight and a deep pan of cold water sitting over
it. She was sure he would come to find her when he wanted attention. And, even though she couldn’t see him, she’d hear him if he called out.
    She went back to thinking about the house, trying to imagine locking the door for the last time, then telling herself that there was no point in getting emotional when the decision had already
been made.
    She was far too deep in thought to notice the lengthening of the shadows outside the kitchen window, or the TV burbling in the front room. It was the key in the latch that made her start, and
notice that the water in the saucepan was now boiling. The tiles behind the cooker were moist with steam.
    She glanced at her watch but didn’t bother looking out into the hall. ‘You’re early,’ she called.
    There was no reply, so she tried again. ‘Stefan, I’m in the kitchen.’
    She listened for a reply but, if he had bothered speaking at all, he’d only mumbled one, merely grunting back at her some dutiful greeting. ‘Sulky git,’ she muttered, slowly
drying her hands on the nearest tea towel, feeling acutely aware of how stale the air became when they shared it. She knew she should go to welcome him, though, and make the effort for one last
meal.
    She straightened up, determined to seem caring, relaxed, content and display every other positive aspect of being happily married that it was appropriate for him to see.
    That lasted all the way along the hallway and as far as the front room, where he stood in the doorway with his back to her.
    ‘When d’you want dinner?’ she asked, her smile fading as he turned and she could see the darkness in his expression. She glared instead, knowing that the words would come out
of her mouth sounding sharp and indifferent. ‘What’s up now?’
    She looked inside the room and the answer was all too obvious. While she’d been distracted by a saucepan of boiling water, Riley had gone out of the lounge and found the CD racks in the
front room. There were at least thirty cases, now separated from their disks and booklets. She knew immediately that most of them were hers, but she doubted that would change the outcome.
    ‘What the fuck’s he doing here?’
    Rachel lowered her voice, hoping he would take the hint and do the same. ‘That’s not why you’re back?’
    He kept his voice at the same pitch, not exactly loud considering it came from a six-foot-two wall of a man. But it was loud enough. ‘Answer the fucking question.’
    ‘You’re back because you saw the news?’
    ‘I said answer the fucking question.’
    For the first time Riley glanced over at them. He grinned and shook another loose CD on to the floor.
    ‘Shhh,’ Rachel said, ‘I am answering.’ She backed away from the door, jerking her head to persuade him to follow her to the kitchen. Thankfully he did.
    ‘No, you’re not.’
    ‘Shut up, let me finish, and you’ll see that I’m actually answering the fucking question.’
    She paused, wondering whether she’d already pushed her luck too far. He looked angry, pissed off even, but was yet to tip into the dangerous mood. She knew she now had to try to
keep things smooth.
    ‘Go on, then.’
    ‘You saw the news, and Kim’s seen it too. I’ve taken Riley while she sorts some stuff out. She’s going to leave town for a while.’
    ‘Like we don’t have our own shit?’
    ‘It won’t hurt for us to stick together.’
    She saw him change then, a tiny twist in his expression, more tension