Juliet immediately looked up, her shrewd eyes searching Amy’s. ‘Why? What’s happened?’
Amy gave a wry smile. That was the downside of knowing someone for twenty years: they could key into every nuance of your expression and voice.
‘I found a bra in our bed.’
Juliet laughed, perhaps expecting a punchline, then fell silent when it didn’t come.
‘Hers?’
Amy shrugged. ‘Don’t know.’ Her voice cracked, and warm tears began to trickle down her face. ‘Wasn’t mine, that’s for sure.’
‘Maybe it was Claire’s?’
‘Why on earth would one of Claire’s bras be in the guest bedroom? Besides, Claire’s a little bit more enhanced than that – this was 32D.’
‘It’s a pretty common size,’ said Juliet reassuringly. ‘They had guests staying before we came. One of Claire’s friends, perhaps. 32D wouldn’t be so unusual.’
‘Perhaps,’ said Amy. ‘But what if it is Josie’s? It’s her size. I went into her room and checked her underwear drawer.’
‘Oh Amy,’ said Juliet, stepping over and rubbing Amy’s arm. It wasn’t consolation, more like disappointment, and Amy pulled away.
‘Seriously, Jules, what if they’re having an affair under my nose?’
‘What’s started all this? The bra?’
Amy shook her head. ‘No, bef
ore that,’ she said, trying to think about the question before she spoke. ‘The photo shoot maybe. Maybe before that even. Nothing specific,’ she admitted. ‘It’s just a feeling. But have you not seen the way men are around her? Max, the driver, the photographer, the gardener who tends the pool . . .’
‘Max pants around anything female with a pulse. Besides, she’s pretty, sexy, and men . . . well, men are men.’
Neither of them said anything for a few moments.
‘So when is this bra incident supposed to have happened?’ Juliet asked.
Amy didn’t have the answer to that, but she had spent hours thinking about it.
‘Maybe on Monday. Remember we took the kids into the village. Josie stayed behind and Max and David were supposedly playing tennis. But Max is always on the phone, isn’t he? What if David crept away and shagged Josie in our bed, what if . . .’
Juliet conjured a tissue and handed it to her, giving her time to compose herself. Amy was glad they were at least five rows away from the nearest lavender pickers.
‘You do know this is all pure speculation, don’t you, darling? I mean, has there been anything else? Has David been acting differently recently?’
‘Like how?’ asked Amy, blowing her nose. ‘I’m new to all this.’
‘The classics: has he been working late? Taking more showers? Buying new clothes or aftershave, hiding his mobile phone? Things like that.’
Amy shook her head. ‘Not that I can remember. He always works late, but the other stuff . . . I’ve been so busy at work, a circus could have rolled into our back garden and I wouldn’t have noticed.’
‘And do you have any reason to suspect Josie?’
‘Nothing beyond a feeling that she’s trouble.’
Juliet raised an eyebrow. ‘Women’s intuition?’
Amy managed an ironic laugh. ‘Or just paranoia.’
Juliet walked on, pondering it.