“And how’s my little one?” He’d stroke my stomach gently. “Is he being good for you?”

“She’s been great,” I’d say automatically.

He’d grin every time. “Do you think it’s a girl, then? I’d love that. She’ll be just like you. Perfect.”

Usually I’d started cooking dinner by the time Harry came home, but he’d always make me sit down and put my feet up while he carried on with it. He’d put the radio on and I’d hear him singing away, as though he hadn’t a care in the world. Well, he hadn’t, I suppose. He thought he’d gotten away with an affair. He also thought he was the father of my baby. He may well be, who knew?

For a few days, I heard nothing from Tom. Gradually I started to calm down. I’d told him that he wasn’t the father. I’d told him I was happily married. Even if he did think he was the father, what did he think was going to happen?

I soon found out.

•   •   •

The phone call came just before I was going to bed, a few days after I saw Tom in the café.

Harry and I had had a lovely evening. He’d come home with flowers, and though I knew they were borne out of guilt, they were still nice to have. He was just so happy now; I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen him like that. Whereas before he’d been weary and tired and would be quick to squabble about something or nothing, now he just couldn’t do enough for me.

“You look like you could do with an early night.” He winked at me. “What about a massage?”

“What do you want in return?” I asked suspiciously.

He laughed. “Nothing, sweetheart. This is just for you.”

“Wonderful. Let me have a quick shower first.” I poured him another glass of wine and jumped up to go upstairs. Then my mobile rang in my handbag in the hallway. I frowned. “Who on earth’s that? It’s nearly ten o’clock.”

“Just ignore it,” he said. “It’s too late to take a call.”

I scrabbled in my bag for my phone. I didn’t recognize the number, but answered the call.

“Hello?”

A man spoke. “I’ll say this just once.”

Every nerve in my body jumped to attention. I knew that voice. Slowly I moved nearer to the front door, so that Harry couldn’t hear me. “What?” I whispered.

“Either you tell him or I will.”

CHAPTER 47

Emma