Page 42 of Don't Let Him In

“I’m so sorry,” Nick says now. “I can’t begin to explain to you how crazy work has been.”

Work? thinks Ash. What work?

“It’s fine,” Nina says. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve been pretty crazy too. It’s just really good to see you.”

“Likewise,” says Nick. “Anyway, I’d better get going. But leave it with me. We’ll go somewhere spectacular. I promise. Let me know which nights work best for you. I’m pretty much around all the time now that the busy stretch is over.”

Busy stretch. There it is again. Busy doing what?

“I’ll message you.”

“I’ll be looking out for it,” he says, and then Ash looks away with a slick of disgust as Nick and her mother kiss softly and tenderly for a moment before pulling apart, a look of utter bliss on her mother’s face as she waves him on his way.

Ash doesn’t want to look at her mother when she walks back inside a moment later. “What did he want?” she asks nonchalantly.

“He was just in the area, popped by to say hi.”

“That’s nice. Did he say why he hasn’t been in touch for so long?”

“Just been busy, I guess.”

Nina’s tone is light, but Ash knows that she is burning with relief and restoration. Ash knows what it feels like when the object of your affections removes themselves from your sphere. She knows that sick ache in the pit of your stomach, that sense of encroaching darkness, the feeling of someone having cut off a source of light, banished you to an endless winter. She knows how it feels.

“Busy doing what?”

The question is loaded to the point of warfare, but Nina doesn’t seem to notice. “Work. The bar. The manager is away, so it’s very hands-on at the moment.”

“When are you going to go to the bar? Is he going to take you there?”

“At some point, I suppose. There’s no rush.” She’s filling the kettle from the kitchen tap as she speaks.

“My friend went there,” Ash begins gently.

Her mother turns to look at her. “What?”

“My friend Lana. She lives in London. I told her about you going out with the guy who owns it and she said she wanted to go and have a drink there, just to check it out. She said that…” She pauses, plucks at the cuffs of her sweatshirt, uncomfortable with lying to her mother but feeling that she has no option. “She said that she asked about Nick and that he doesn’t actually work there.”

Even from behind, Ash can see the rise and fall of her mother’s lungs through the cotton of her shirt. “Oh, Ash.”

“What! I’m just saying! That’s what Lana said. Nobody had heard of him. That’s all. It just seemed really strange. And there are other things.” She feels her pulse quicken.

“What other things?” Nina says the words “other things” as if the possibility of there being any other things can only be pure nonsense.

Ash picks up her phone from the kitchen table and finds the screenshot of the “Justin Warshaw” life-coaching web page from the obsolete site.

Nina pulls on her reading glasses and takes the phone from Ash. “What is this?”

“It’s Nick. Twelve years ago. Going by Justin Warshaw. Did he ever mention that he used to be a life coach? Or that he used to be married?”

“What do you mean, married?”

“Look.” Ash points at the ring on Nick’s finger.

Nina frowns. “That doesn’t mean anything. He always has his ring from Ruth with him. And, no, he didn’t tell me about being a life coach, not specifically. But I do know he’s had quite a colorful career, done a bit of everything, so it doesn’t surprise me in the least.” She hands the phone back to Ash and sighs. “Baby girl,” she says, “what’s going on here?”

Ash feels tears building behind her eyes and swallows them back. “Nothing,” she says. “Nothing. I just—who is this guy? That’s all. He’s fifty-five or whatever. He says he’s got no children, but someone who used to be a client of his when he was a life coach said he lived in a house with a woman who he said was his wife, and they had two little girls.”

“Oh, come on now, Ash.”

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