Page 119 of An Unholy Affair
‘Not at all.’
Hurrying out of the room, Erica returned shortly with Lacey, one of the care assistants, who looked confused as to why she had to babysit Jack in her boss’s office.
‘Thank you, Lacey,’ Erica said. ‘I won’t be long.’
After she left, Jack sat in silence, wondering what to do. Confronting Simon might feel satisfying in the short term, but was likely to bring more stress down on Eveline. And if Simoncouldget away with accusing Jack of this bollocks, then he didn’t trust what the man might accuse him of if they spoke alone.
Since finally getting together with Eveline, Jack had been in a bubble where nothing about him or his past could hurt her. But now that prick, Simon, was bursting it, and the poison was spreading everywhere.
Fifteen minutes later, Erica returned and ushered Lacey out. As soon as she’d shut the door, she turned to him.
‘I must offer my sincere apologies for this situation. Robert has indeed corroborated your version of events, and, moreover, told me that thanks to you, he’s had the confidence to start a relationship with Shirley and has never been happier.’
Relief flooded Jack’s chest.
‘Unfortunately, due to safeguarding concern for our residents, any accusation has to be taken extremely seriously.’
‘I understand.’
Erica hesitated, her jaw working as if she wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure if she should.
‘One of the persons who made these claims,’ she began. ‘Also told me that you had a problem with alcohol, and had most likely been inebriated whilst at Foxbrooke Haven, however I’ve never seen any evidence of this.’
Jack’s fingers clenched on the arms of the chair, his mouth dry. Simon may have been toxic, buthewas the one who got publicly wasted at his own father’s funeral.
‘I’ve never been under the influence here, and the last alcoholic drink I had was at my dad’s wake nearly two weeks ago.’
Erica frowned. ‘I’m truly sorry, Jack. I’ll be having words with twolittle-minded people about their claims.’
He nodded at Erica’s subtle reference to Simon and his mother.
‘Let me give you the new code for the front door,’ she continued. ‘And then you can carry on with the mural.’
Jack nodded, but felt tired and washed out.Didpeople think he had an issue with alcohol? DidEveline? And to think he was worried about people finding out about his job… Now it seemed there were so many other ways he could disappoint people.
At lunchtime,Jack packed up his paints and headed back towards Foxbrooke, his feet slow and his heart heavy. The grey clouds seemed to press on him, so different from the open skies he was used to above the Mediterranean.
His phone rang.
‘Putain!’ Cyrille cried. ‘Did you forget about me?’
‘No such luck. How’s it going?’
‘Pah, you know, busy, busy, party, party. People keep asking where you are.’
‘People?’
‘Oh, putain, you know… Your ladies, they are so demanding…’
Memories that once used to excite Jack now left a bad taste in his mouth.
‘You know you’re welcome to them?’
Cyrille snorted. ‘I haven’t played with pussy since the noughties. And your women are so old.’
‘They’re the same age as you!’
‘Putain! I’m only thirty-nine!’
