‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Christ, David, after everything that happened in Provence, imagine if she was your daughter.’
The light in the room was dim, but there was enough of it for Amy to see her husband go pale.
‘Karen got pregnant straight after the ball. With that idiot Lee.’
‘I didn’t have sex with Karen, Amy, and I didn’t sleep with Josie. I guess that’s enough for us to try and put this whole thing behind us.’
She felt her breath start to stutter, the emotion of the day rising into her throat.
David came towards her and put his arms around her waist. This time she coiled her own around his back, resting her head on his shoulder like a pillow.
‘I want to talk to her,’ she said after a moment.
‘Let it go, Amy.’
She shook her head. ‘No, it’s important. She hates me because she thinks I abandoned her.’
‘Really? Or does she hate you because Karen has been jealous of you for twenty years?’
‘Either way, I’ve got to do the right thing,’ she said, taking his hand and leading him upstairs to bed, trying not to think about the conversation she would need to have with Josie tomorrow.
Chapter 35
‘Chrissie, it’s Amy.’
Her PA almost hyperventilated at the other end of the phone. ‘Amy, where the hell have you been? There have been all sorts of rumours floating about the place. Tracey keeps getting called to Douglas Proctor’s office, and Janine said you might not be coming in for a few days.’
‘It’s true, I’m having a bit of time off,’ said Amy, imagining the state of panic in the office.
‘This is about the Blenheim party, isn’t it?’
‘It’s complicated,’ she replied.
‘Because I don’t believe the other stuff. I sent Douglas an email myself to say that I’d seen vials in your fridge but they were vitamins and everyone took them.’
Amy felt a wave of affection for the younger woman.
‘Chrissie, I need you to do me a favour. I’ve been trying to get hold of Josie Price, but apparently she’s not in work today. I need you to try and find me her home address.’
‘Josie? What do you want to talk to her for?’
So Chrissie had heard about the showdown outside Douglas’s office.
‘Please, just try,’ said Amy.
‘Okay,’ agreed her PA, not sounding terribly convinced. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’
It took Chrissie all day to come through. Eventually she got the address from one of the post boys, who lived near Josie and had shared an Uber home with her on a couple of occasions.
‘Sorry, miss. Traffic’s shocking today,’ said the taxi driver taking Amy from Notting Hill to Islington. ‘The road ahead is closed as well. Honestly, it might be better if you hop out here.’
Amy craned her neck to look at the line of stationary cars ahead. ‘Just pull over wherever you can.’
It had been a long time since she had been to this pocket of north London, but somehow it still felt like home. Years ago, she had rented a tiny basement flat in a grand whitewashed Georgian terrace with a postcode that meant she could tell people she lived in Barnsbury, although in truth it was actually closer to the sticky pavements of Caledonian Road – and, come to that, Holloway women’s prison.
She walked past the chichi restaurants and chic interior shops on Upper Street, past the bars full of young people relaxing after a busy day at work. Turning off, she headed into the quieter residential area, away from the lights and the laughter. Normally she would have been nervous walking alone on such deserted streets, but tonight it felt right, like this was her territory. God, she thought, a wistful smile on her lips, I must have been twenty-four, twenty-five when I lived here. Where has that girl gone?