‘Never mind that.’ Fran nudges her urgently as a figure walks up the garden towards them, a dark shape in the gloom. ‘We’ve got company.’

Chapter 16

Then

JENNA

Jenna is still pressed up against the wall of the chalet, the cold stone under her palms, the sound of the slap ringing in her ears, when Tom appears at the end of the pathway. In the blink of an eye he’s gone, sprinting down the path that runs alongside chalet number nine. She waits, and watches, then, when Tom doesn’t return, she moves away from the wall. She needs to check on Kate.

The glass double doors to Tom’s chalet are open. Kate is inside, sitting in one of the armchairs, staring at the floor, her arms crossed over her chest. She looks up sharply as Jenna draws closer. Irritation, or maybe anger, quickly dissolves into a smile.

‘Hello!’ She gets up and moves to the doorway, her long beige jersey skirt clinging to her thighs as she walks, her navy jacket sleeves turned back to reveal white cuffs, the same stark white as her top. There’s an effortless elegance to her that makes Jenna feel scruffy and grubby.

‘Everything okay?’ Kate asks. ‘Tom’s just popped out. I’m waiting for him to return.’ Her eyes are clear and white, lined with winged black eyeliner and thick, black mascara. The apples of her cheeks are pink and her lips shine with gloss. There are no tear tracks carving pale lines through her foundation, no panda smudges beneath her eyes and no red finger marks on her cheeks. Either she reapplied her make-up lightning fast after Tom hit her or he slapped her somewhere that didn’t leave a mark. But it’s Kate’s demeanour, rather than her perfect make-up, that Jenna finds confusing. She heard the anguish in Kate’s voice when she was arguing with Tom and the plaintive, ‘Say you’re sorry’. No sign of that now. She’s all business as normal and ‘how can I help?’

‘I heard your argument,’ Jenna says, ‘with Tom. I know he slapped you.’

Horror flashes in Kate’s eyes.

‘He’s gone,’ Jenna says, ‘and if we lock the doors he won’t be able to get back in.’

As Kate slumps into an armchair, covering her face with her hands, Jenna rushes over to close the doors. She turns the key in the lock then looks back at Kate. She dithers, unsure what to do next. Fran would know what to do, she thinks ruefully. Fran with her no-nonsense personality and ‘can do’ attitude. She’d take charge of the situation in an instant. But Jenna isn’t her sister and she feels completely out of her depth.

‘Do you want a drink?’ she ventures instead. ‘Tea? Wine? Is there any?’

‘There’s red wine in the cupboard above the coffee machine.’