Though she’d done as he’d asked yesterday and made sure the children were elsewhere for the afternoon, he hadn’t come home. She’d waited and waited, paced the house, texted and rung him, but he simply hadn’t turned up. She could still hardly believe it was happening as she veered from confusion to fury, to fear and all the way back again. He’d never done anything like this before. Why the hell wasn’t he answering his phone? He surely had to know how worried she was. What if he’d had an accident? To her shame she realised an accident felt almost preferable to the thought of him being with another woman. At least that way their marriage might still be intact. In the end, it was after five when he’d sent a brief message saying Sorry, lousy reception here. Will call tomorrow. Lousy reception here? What kind of lame excuse was that? Where the hell was he? Why didn’t he get to a place where he could make a connection? ‘He said he’ll call tomorrow,’ she told Stacy, when her friend came round to lend moral support.
