Page 48 of The Temp

‘Hmmm…’ I murmur. Apart from one big, fat one that could give me a custodial sentence. ‘I certainly…’ I begin, and then there’s a thunder of footsteps on the stairwell, followed by Georgia belting into the room, face flushed with anger.

‘What the actual fuck?’

‘Language,’ I say, pulling away from Tom.

‘What is it, Georgie?’ Tom asks, tucking his shirt back into his trousers quickly. ‘Why aren’t you asleep?’

‘Flies,’ I mime, dropping my gaze and Tom quickly does up his zip, while Georgia’s eyes dart around the room wildly, muttering obscenities – she can’t fucking believe it – we’re so fucking lame. I just about manage to grab my bra off the seat next to me and shove it behind the cushion before she averts her gaze back to us. She nods at our cocktails on the coffee table. ‘How many of those have you two had?’ She looks at her phone. ‘It’s gone one. I thought you were still out.’

‘We’ve been home ages,’ I say. ‘Didn’t you hear us come in?’

Georgia readjusts her silky blonde hair, which she’s loosely tied into a bun on top of her head, face set in annoyance. ‘I fell asleep watching TV.’ She eyes me up and down suspiciously. ‘It’s ridiculously late. Shit, man.’

Tom gets to his feet, hands on hips. ‘Calm down, Georgie. We’re the parents, not you. And less of all that swearing. That’s not how we brought you up.’ He side-glances me. ‘This is all that lad’s influence from number nineteen.’ He throws a finger in the direction of the front door. ‘Rebellious little shit. Did you hear the lip he was giving his mother the other day?’

‘Ralf’s not that bad,’ I protest, ‘Anna’s a good disciplinarian. He’s at that age.’

‘Why aren’t you picking up your bloody phones?’ Georgia demands. Her eyes flit from me and rest on Tom, narrowing in irritation.

Tom sits back down and peers at his handset on the coffee table. ‘Nothing on mine. Oh, wait. Two missed calls earlier. I had it on silent.’

‘Mine was switched off,’ I admit. Tom’s suggestion so that we could enjoy the evening without interruption. ‘Were you trying to get a hold of us, Georgie?’ I stand up and go over to her. ‘Is everything all right? You’re not ill, are you?’ I go to touch her forehead but she ducks like a professional boxer.

‘Mother, can you please put your phone back on?’ she snaps, looking straight ahead at a bronze sculpture of a naked woman on the sideboard. A housewarming gift from Mum, which none of us really like. ‘Auntie Zelda and Linda have been driving me nuts all night.’ My heart stops. Why have they been phoning Georgia? It must have something to do with Frank. My pulse quickens. ‘Jesus, you two. I’m not your fuuuc...’ Tom gives her a look and the F word dies on her lips. ‘I’m not your personal assistant. Grrr…I hate my life.’

Georgia stomps across the room, then collapses onto the sofa as far away as possible from her dad and starts texting, hands flying over the lit-up screen frantically. Acid whooshes in my stomach. Something is very wrong. Snatching my bag off the floor, I unzip it hurriedly, pull out my phone and switch it back on. The white apple flashes and then my phone buzzes and buzzes and buzzes – 10 missed calls from Zelda. 6 missed calls from Linda. 12 new messages.

Linda:

Message 1 – Bells, please pick up.

2 – Where are you?

3 – Ring me now. Urgent.

4 – Pls call asap. William sniffing.

William is our code for Old Bill. A wave of fear washes over me and merges with the nausea that is swishing in my stomach. The police have been round to Linda’s. Frank must’ve reported us, or worse still, been found dead. I quickly retrieve Zelda’s messages with cold, tremulous fingers.

Message 1 – Bella. Please. Where are you?

2 – Pick up!!!!

3. I’m ringing Tom.

4 – Bloody answerphone.

5 – Georgia says you’re not back.

6 - Call me NOW!!!

7 - It’s URGENT.

8 - At police station. They’ve brought me in for questioning.

A chill runs charges through my body. Zelda’s been arrested. It’s over. I need to contact Sean, our solicitor. I open my Contacts app and start scrolling.

‘Bella, what is it?’ Tom’s voice.

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