The ambulance with Almira and Jemima and two paramedics set off at just before 10pm with a very worried Abdullah Khan following in the family car. Almira looked grey with tension and close to tears but as the journey progressed she began to relax and with it her abdomen remained soft, indicating that for now the contractions had eased. Jem listened to each baby's heart beats with a hand held device called a sonicaid to check the health of the precious cargo on a regular basis.
It was nearly 2am when Jemima wearily climbed back into the ambulance for the return journey to Plymouth the Khans had been settled in a side ward near to the midwifery station on an antenatal ward, for now the babies were still snuggled up in their Mother’s tummy but that could change and Jemima thanked God she hadn’t had to deliver the little ones on route.
As the ambulance sped down the A38 a call came in over the radio. There had been a fight on Union Street in town. A young man in his twenties had been stabbed in the abdomen. Jemima knew that getting back to the maternity unit would have to wait and she prepared herself to help the paramedics as they had supported her with the transfer.
“Right hold onto your hats guys, we need to blue light it.” Laughed Joe the paramedic who had taken over the driving in Reading. “Sorry Jemima no option but to take you with us.” Said Dan, his work partner. “No problem, I’m happy to help where I can.” “Good show, some of your colleagues can get a bit sniffy if we don’t get them back to base ASAP.” Jemima rolled her eyes, she could imagine who they might be. “It’s no problem. I’ll let the unit know.”
At the scene of the fight two police vans and a spattering of gawping onlookers surrounded a man on the ground. Two others had already been cuffed and put in police vehicles and a dozen or so officers methodically took statements. The casualty was unconscious but breathing with a female officer holding onto a thick bandage where the wound was profusely bleeding. Jemima held back while the paramedics did a primary survey and then took over from the police officer on bandage duty while the two paramedics set up a sliding sheet and the trolley to get the man off to accident and emergency. Jemina marvelled how slick Joe and Dan were, anticipating each other's every move, calmly preparing for the transfer.
Back at the maternity unit maternity health care assistant June Rogers was on the lookout for Jemima’s return, the rest of the night shift had left nearly an hour earlier but Jemima’s Beetle was still in the car park. June had been on the late shift when an enormous bouquet of flowers, a teddy bear and a heart shaped, red, helium balloon had been delivered for Jemima. And now back on an early shift she realised that Jemima hadn’t received them yet. June was a 57 year old long standing maternity unit health care support worker, a good soul but hideously nosey and a ferocious gossip. Something told her that the flowers weren’t from Jemima’s husband and she was beside herself wanting to know who Jemima’s admirer was. She had already posted a picture on Facebook of Jemima’s gift with the caption. “What a lucky girl Jemima Jones.”
As soon as the ambulance got to A&E Jemima headed across the hospital back to maternity. Mercifully she had now finished nights so she had some much needed days off now. The last few shifts had been so hectic she had hardly had time to think about her troubles and later she had planned to visit Violet in Dorset. She needed a change of scene and Violet was superb company.
June caught Jemima just as she was unlocking her car. “Oh love you are running late, did the transfer go well?” June gushed. “Yes thanks June, I’m shattered now.” “Well look what I’ve got.” The older woman giggled as she dramatically presented Jem with the flowers, cuddly toy and balloon. “That husband of yours...he’s a keeper if he spoils you like this.” June continued to twitter as Jemima stood rooted to the spot, anxiety rising like a temperature in an old fashioned mercury thermometer. She took a couple of breaths and composed herself before thanking June and jumping into the car as fast as she could. The bloody balloon was bobbing up and down on the back seat so she had to get out and secure it to the door handle which gave June the opportunity to show her the Facebook post. Jemima almost fainted. Although she hadn’t opened the card she knew it wasn’t Mark who had sent the gifts and now anyone who knew her through Facebook would know about the gift, including Mark.
Jemima drove off cursing bloody June and bloody Patrick, she knew it was him behind the ridiculous gifts. Why the hell had he sent them to work and more to the point what could she do about the Facebook page. As soon as she was out of sight of the hospital she pulled over. She was beyond tiredness but also super alert from the adrenaline pumping through her veins. Right, first things first. Facebook. It was tempting to simply delete her profile thus severing the tie to June or she could delete June as a friend but both things screamed guilt and June would be on to that in a shot. Ok so she needed a cover story in case it wasn’t Mark who had sent the flowers. Shit she really ought to check who they were from. As she predicted it was Paddy. “I miss you Mrs Jones. Please call me.” Hmm...That would definitely have to wait. The stupid, thoughtless idiot might well have revealed their secret and she couldn’t help wondering if that had been his intention. Anyway she needed a cover story and quick before Mark saw the post. She rang Sarah who had just got in from the school run and was delighted to hear from her friend, although troubled by the reason for the call. “Don’t worry darling I’ll be your alibi. Comment on June’s post saying that you are lucky to have a wonderful husband but on this occasion you have your best friend and God daughter to thank. A heart shaped helium balloon is very Molly.” Oh my god Sarah you are a complete genius are you sure about this. I hate to involve you in my saudid mess.” “Well hun you have and I’m there for you no matter what, but please be careful. This gift, sent to the hospital it seems a bit creepy to me.” Sarah was worried and couldn’t help telling Jemima. “I know I have to sort things out. I’m off to Dorset later for a little Mother-in-law pampering. When I get back on Sunday I’ll get my house in order I promise.” Well if you need me shout. I think Violet will do you the world of good. Now get home to bed Jem you must be exhausted.” “Thanks Sarah, I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you. Send my love to Nick and Molly.” Jemima rang off and Sarah had a really bad feeling, maybe the gift was a genuinely lovely gesture or maybe it was Patrick pushing the pace, it almost felt like he was trying to announce their relationship, Jemima ended the call and commented on June’s Facebook post to set the record straight.
‘Yes June I am a lucky girl my gorgeous goddaughter and her lovely Mum thought I’d needed cheering up.’ Phew. Now if Mark saw the post he wouldn’t be suspicious.
Jemima was so exhausted when she got home that she could hardly drag herself out of the car let alone deal with the balloon and the flowers so she grabbed her bag leaving the gifts to be sorted out later. As she unlocked the front door her neighbour Callie approached her carrying a box with a FedEx label. “Hi love, you’ve had a delivery. I took it in last night. Something from Mark?”How ironic. Gifts from both the men in her life on the same day. Jemima thanked Callie and stumbled into the house. She had never felt so exhausted and confused. Usually Jem could wait to open parcels but she was so tired she left it on the hall table and headed to bed.
It was noon by the time Jemima woke up. She was thirsty and badly needed a pee, by the time she had used the bathroom and drunk a pint of water she was too awake to try to get anymore sleep. With so little sleep she decided to postpone her drive to Dorset until the morning so she could chill out and have an early night. She was lucky that her mother in law was so accommodating and wouldn’t mind the last minute change of plan, feeling too wound up to phone she sent a quick text and got a sympathetic, understanding response.
The parcel in the hall needed her attention, sleep deprivation made Jemima anxious about the contents. The writing on the label was Mark’s but it was so unlike him to send her things that she worried about the contents. Maybe it was divorce papers? The photos of Selena flooded into her consciousness. With shaking hands she ripped open the box. The relief at finding a cute cuddly giraffe made her slightly tearful. Confusion followed. This was most unlike Mark, at the bottom of the box she found the thick cream envelope with his distinctive writing addressed to her, Jemima opened the envelope and sat on the stairs in the hall as she stated to read his letter, she hadn’t even finished the first page before she had to get a tissue. Once the tears started she couldn’t stop. Oh Mark, what have I done? She cried till her face was swollen and her head ached. Clutching Jeremy she headed back upstairs and sort solace in a bubble bath,
As the fragrant bubbles and warm water soothed her weary body she began to mentally reply to the letter. She knew it would take a few drafts and she still wasn’t sure if she and Mark had a happy ending but she was starting to realise that she had to give things another try. She smiled as she thought of her uptight husband going to counselling and being on a health kick, she had underestimated him and broken her wedding vows when the going got tough. She had to right those wrongs.
The presents from Patrick were still in the car and she hadn’t acknowledged them. The last thing she wanted was to see or speak to him. She had to focus on Mark and then deal with Patrick later. Hopefully much later.
Jemima dried herself off and put on some comfy joggers and hoodie. She sent a brief text to Paddy.
Thank you for the lovely gifts. I have had a crazy busy few days and I’m just off to see my mother/in-law. I’ll be in touch when I get back. J x
She knew her tone was cool and offhand but she had more important things to think about and do and right now. Patrick O’Sullivan just didn’t seem so important.
She also texted Mark. Darling I love Jeremy and the letter you sent me. I’m going to respond in a letter. But I just wanted to let you know I’ve received what you sent and I want to make us work. You are right we are pretty damn amazing! All my love xxx
In San Francisco Mark was just grabbing a sandwich for lunch when he saw the text on his Apple Watch. He had to leave the staff canteen to compose himself. A huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders and a new optimism fizzed through him like a mouth full of sherbet.
Paddy was less than impressed with Jemima’s text. His initial reaction was to send back an angry retort but sod her, let the silly cow go to see her Mother-in-law he’d sort her out when she got back.
Jemima sat at the kitchen table with Mark's letter and a pad of writing paper. Responding was proving much, much harder than she anticipated. Half-drunk coffee cups and screwed up paper littered the table. Several hours passed and still Jemima couldn’t get the tone right, as darkness fell she decided to call it a day. This had to be right and now she was far too tired to get it right.
It was a beautiful spring morning that greeted Jemima when she woke the following day. A long sleep had recharged her batteries and put a smile on her face. Ok things were complicated but she had a few days in Dorset to look forward to and she genuinely thought she had a shot at repairing her marriage. In any case she was sick of being anxious and on edge all the time.
A couple of hours later with an overnight bag in the boot she headed for the out of town M&S to collect some goodies for Violet. She had her writing pad and had photographed the letter Mark sent. She didn’t want to take it with her in case Violet caught sight of it. Her mother-in-law wasn’t nosey but Jemima was liable to leave things around.
"Jemima how lovely to see you". Violet swept her up in a floral scented hug, “Sorry I didn’t make it last night, I had a mad week at work which ended with a transfer to Reading and then a causality on Union Street on the way back, I didn’t get to bed until 10am and then I was wide awake at lunchtime but still shattered.Does that makes sense?” “Darling there really is no need to explain. I know how hard you work and I certainly don’t want to drive up here if you are tired. You made the right decision, now how about a cheeky glass of pimms in the garden or would you rather have homemade lemonade?”. “Oh, pimms sounds lovely Violet. You must tell me about how the book is going.” “Ok let’s relax and gossip in the garden today and maybe pop down to the pub for supper. Tomorrow I thought we could pack a picnic and head off to Corfe or Lulworth.” That sounds wonderful Violet. You are such a tonic."
The beautiful garden, a few pimms and the comfortable garden loungers along with the effervescent company made Jemima’s problems seem world away. Before the women knew it the afternoon had turned to early evening. “Come on Jem lets pop down the road for some supper and then my darling you need an early night.” Jemima loved how the older woman seemed to understand what she needed. Her own Mother was always so caught up caring for her poor Father who had Parkinson’s and she hated to worry her. A visit to her parents was a bit of a busman's holiday and she found it hard that her Mother refused to accept any help when it was obvious to everyone that she was struggling but that was Judy, the eternal martyr.
After a hearty steak pie and a shared bottle of red wine Jemma and Violet headed back to Cob Cottage for an early night. Marcus the landlord clearly had a soft spot for Violet but even the offer of coffee and brandy on the house didn’t encourage Violet to stay this evening. Jemima was doing a good job of being her usual bubbly self but Violet sensed that her daughter- in law needed some tic. She was worried about the young couple's marriage, the hours they both seemed to work and the sparkle that was missing from Jemima, she hoped some good food, rest and a sympathetic ear would put her back on track.
Jemima always slept like a baby at Cob cottage. Whether it was the incredibly comfortable bed, Violet's hospitality or just getting away from it all, or maybe a mixture of all three she couldn’t decide but she felt incredibly chipper when she woke up. The small bedside clock told her that it was still only 6am and yet the sun was streaming through the pretty Cath Kidston curtains and Jemima felt full of beans. She knew Violet was more of a night owl than an early bird so she quietly pottered down to the kitchen to get a cup of tea, As she stood in the kitchen waiting for the kettle to boil she decided that she would grab her writing paper and her phone and have another crack at replying to Mark, She giggled as she remembered that she had left her earlier failed attempts scrunched up in her own kitchen, yesterday she was so eager to leave she hadn’t even bothered to tidy up and her bouquet from Patrick were still in the cellophane in the sink. She had popped the stupid balloon and binned it and the teddy was still in the car, destined for the children’s ward when she was next at work.
Sitting on the terrace with a mug of tea and her pen Jemima started to find the words to send to her husband. Occasionally she looked at the copy she had taken of his letter. It was a short but heartfelt response and in the right setting, in the right frame of mind it seemed to flow. She debated about telling Mark about Patrick but although she knew she would have to confess. This wasn’t the way to do it. She needed to physically be with him to open that can of worms, Jemima decided she would find a little trinket to send with the letter and get it in the post the following week.
By mid-morning Violet's beloved classic MG was packed with a picnic and with the roof down the woman roared off to Lulworth cove. Violet chatted about how Mark had loved the Jurassic coast as a little boy. Swimming in the clear water in the summer and fossil hunting in the winter. Jemima had never been to this part of Dorset. Visits to see Violet with Mark tended to be just for a night which didn’t leave much time for sightseeing.
The sun was shining and the water sparkled. Jemima wished she had brought her swimming gear but when she dipped a toe in she realised that the water was in fact icy. Clearly she was far too used to a heated pool. Maybe she should go for a sea swim occasionally.
Sitting on the smooth white stones with a picnic blanket the women enjoyed a picnic lunch Violet style, there were cold cooked Cumberland sausages from the local butcher, vine grown tomatoes from the garden, homemade potato salad and a brandy infused fruit cake. All packed up in a classy wicker picnic basket. A bottle of chilled low alcohol fizz completed the meal.
The women chatted and people watched, relaxing in the sun. Violet spotted a group of school children collecting the beautiful smooth, round pebbles off the beach. Their teacher explained that they must only pick one each as taking too many would cause coastal erosion. They looked so cute with the girls in gingham summer dresses and boys in shorts. She looked forward to the day she would be a grandmother but sensibly kept the thought to herself.
Jemima was watching the children too and it gave her an idea. Maybe her present to Mark could be a painted stone from his favourite childhood beach. Jemima had very little artistic talent but Violet had it in spades. “Violet, Mark wrote me a letter last week and sent it with a cuddly giraffe. When I woke up this morning I wrote back but I wanted to put a little gift in a parcel with it. What do you think about a painted Lulworth cove stone? "Violet's eyes lit up. She loved all things arty, crafty but had never managed to get Jem even vaguely interested. “I think that’s a wonderful idea. Would you like a hand? “Hell yes, I’m flipping hopeless” “Ok so how about picking a couple of really nice stones and then going to a garden centre for a bag of cobbles, we can practice on the bought stones and then when you are happy you can do a final version on a Lulworth cove one. Mark can be a bit of a stuffed shirt Jem but he does have a sensitive, romantic side, I think he’d love a piece of home with a picture or message from you.”
Jemima sipped a refreshing gin and tonic and surveyed the afternoons creations. The women had stopped in Wareham on the way home to buy supplies and then spent a couple of hours writing inspirational quotes and doing simple drawings on the stones. Jemima was a slightly clumsy artist, Violet assured her that it was just confidence, patience and practice and she had to admit that she improved as time went on. It was hard to decide what to put on Mark’s stone. Jem was nervous that he would laugh or rubbish her efforts so it was good to have Violet reassuring her and giving her some gentle coaching. The finished product was a globe painted in blue and green with the words ‘you mean the world to me xxx. Maybe it was a bit cheesy but as Violet pointed out Mark was a long way from home without her. He’d love it!!
In Plymouth Patrick was having a boring weekend. He knew Jemima was back on Sunday because Bill was supposed to be doing the snagging on the conservatory at 8am on Monday. He’d reorganised it so that he was in fact going to sign off the job. Knowing Jemima she would be home mid-afternoon. He wondered if she would like him to pop over with a take away. He missed her dreadfully but couldn’t bring himself to contact her. Stubborn pride was making him miserable and yet he wanted her to be the one to contact him. The text she had sent him after receiving the gifts was polite but curt and Paddy hated it.
By Saturday afternoon Paddy was like a caged animal. Pacing around his cottage. He tried reading, watching a film and even a spot of housework but nothing distracted him or held his attention for more than a few minutes.
Wearily he went in search of his walking boots and headed on to Dartmoor to walk off his troubled mind. The sky was blue, the sun shining and a gentle breeze made a climb up to Hay Tor a very pleasant diversion. When he reached the top he sat with a bottle of water and contemplated things. Falling for a married woman definitely had not been in his life plan and the fact that she was less than compliant and frequently out of reach didn’t help. Patrick simply wasn’t a man used to compromise. He liked his own way and was used to getting it. Jem certainly gave him a run for his money but if their relationship was to work it was time she divorced her husband, gave up the silly hours she worked at the hospital and moved in with him. Maybe she could work part time in his office. The idea of her very delectable bottom in a pencil skirt helping out made his cock harden. He imagined her sitting on his lap or lying naked on his desk. The huge grin spread across his face. All he needed to do was figure out how to resolve the current situation. A nice chilled out Sunday evening with a take away, a bottle of wine and an early night seemed like a very agreeable way to make up, He considered turning up out of the blue on Sunday evening but then he had a better idea. He had a key to her house so he could pop round and surprise her by being naked in her bed. The more he thought about it the more appealing it felt. He’d buy some nibbles, wine and breakfast food on the way and then order a delivery later when he’d shown her just how much she meant to him.
Jemima and Violet cooked a huge Sunday lunch and then walked through the fields to Winterbourne Whitchurch, they stopped for an afternoon coffee before heading back to Cob cottage, Jemima had packed her car earlier. Carefully placing the letter and stone in a shoe box Violet had found for her. Tomorrow morning she would send it FedEx. She had excitedly taken a picture of the box and sent it to Mark with a text asking him to look out for it.
Paddy whizzed round Sainsbury’s on Sunday afternoon and headed to Paxton Close. He parked in a neighbouring road so he would surprise Jemima and let himself in to her home. With his shopping in one hand and an overnight bag in the other he headed through the house to the kitchen. As he put the food and wine in the fridge he noticed the roses in the sink. Jemima hadn’t even bothered to unwrap them, although they were in water. Maybe she had deliberately left them like that to keep them fresher. He was unsure and faintly annoyed. Oh well he could rectify that. On the window sill he found a glass vase. He filled it with cold water, unwrapped the roses and organised them in a sort of arrangement before putting in the plant food, He took the wrapping and chucked it in the stainless steel kitchen bin, as he did this his eye caught on a metallic, shiny object. He pulled it out. The balloon. The bitch had thrown it away and by the looks of it she’d stabbed it several times. Shock and anger mixed with a tinge of sadness overcame him. He thought his legs might give way so he pulled a chair out from the kitchen table and slumped down. His emotions were all over the place and his brain was in overdrive. After a few minutes he opened the fridge and poured himself a glass of wine. He downed it in two gulps and poured another. By the third glass he was calmer, however he managed to finish the entire bottle in less than ten minutes and having eaten very little since the day before he was beginning to get drunk, Getting up again he looked for more wine and took the opportunity to use the downstairs loo. On his way back to the kitchen he noticed several screwed up pieces of paper and what looked like a letter on the table. His earlier shock must have made him oblivious.
Carefully he flattened out the crumpled paper and read what each piece said Jemima was clearly writing to Mark and it seemed that it was in response to a letter he had sent. Ah, the envelope. Mark grabbed it and pulled out the folded contents. Reading Mark’s letter was like twisting a knife in his gut. He reached for the wine bottle and downed another glass.
Jemima made good time on her drive home. Her trip to Dorset had done her good. She knew it was time to end things with Paddy and repair her marriage and after a turbulent few months she felt confident that she could do that. Maybe in a few weeks she could go out to San Francisco or persuade Mark to come home for a visit.
Jemima was less than pleased to see Patrick sitting at her kitchen table with one empty bottle of wine and a second with less than a glass left in it. How dare he let himself into the house and get drunk. “What do you think you are doing Patrick?” She shouted. “Well Jemima. It’s like this''- he slurred. “I came round here to see you. And look what I found.” He started waving the letters around. "This isn’t the kind of behaviour I expect from you Jem.” With slight difficulty he stood up. Looming over her. He grabbed her round the waist and ground his groan into her. “So now, you are going to have to make it up to me.” “Patrick you are drunk. It’s time you went home.” She tried to move away from him and move towards the door. “Oh no sweetheart. I’m going nowhere. First you run out on me, then you hardly acknowledge my gifts and now I find that you and your pompous prick of a husband and writing each other love letters. YOU NEED TO MAKE IT UP TO ME” He roared. Jemima’s eyes widened with fear. “Now we are going into the living room and you are going to show me how sorry you are. He grabbed her hair and dragged her into the next room. “No Paddy, please, you are hurting me.” “Well you have hurt me and now YOU WILL SHOW me how sorry you are.” He pinned her against the wall, lifted up her dress and ripped her knickers off, Tears poured down her face and she continued to tell him to stop but he was strong, and in an alcohol fuelled rage. In his illogical mind Jemima had been unfaithful to him and now she needed to be taught a lesson,
He dragged her to one of the sofas and pushed her down with one arm pinning her arms above her head and the other unbuckling his belt and taking off his jeans. Through the fabric of his boxers she could see his erection. She struggled and kept saying no but he held her tighter and groped her. “What’s the problem you normally like it when I play with your pussy.,. Oh Paddy that’s so good, don’t stop Paddy.” He cruelly imitated her. “But not like this.” She pleaded. “Just like this, you duplicitous bitch,” He slapped her face and then thrust into her. No matter how much she whimpered, wriggled and cried, he kept pumping his cock into her. He didn’t care that she wasn’t aroused or that she hadn’t consented he just took her brutally. When, he finished and withdrew. He made her suck his cock. She gagged as he rammed the now semi hard phallus down her throat. “Jesus Jemima can’t you do better than that?” He snarled, “You love it when I lick your pussy so it’s time you learned to give me a decent blow job.” He mocked as he held her head and thrust deep into her mouth. As his semen was flowing out of her from his earlier ejaculation and his cock was hardening again. By now Jemima was terrified and could do nothing but comply. Patrick could see that she was broken and would therefore do as he asked. He smiled cruelly.” That’s better, you understand who's the boss now, don’t you?” Mutely she nodded. He stopped fucking her mouth and she watched in horror as he wanked over her face, his hot semen spurted on her, stinging her eyes. He laughed. “Look at the state of you.” He sneered. Go and get cleaned up and I’ll order a takeaway. Jemima just lay on the sofa, unable to move or talk, “come on, chop, chop,”
Jemima rose and made for the bathroom. She locked the door behind her and then sank down onto the floor. Tears welled up in her eyes again and the words he raped me kept playing on a loop in her head. Jemima had no idea how long she sat on the floor but she heard footsteps outside and turned on the taps. Paddy knocked on the door. “Are you nearly finished darling? I’ve ordered an Indian, it will be here in a few minutes.” Jemima ignored him watching the water coming out of the tap and the steam rising.
Again Patrick knocked on the door. Jem come on hurry up, the food is here. She still didn’t respond. “Jesus, stop acting like a child, come out of there. Paddy was annoyed again. She turned off the taps but didn’t respond.
Bang, bang bang and then the sound of splintering wood and he’d broken the door down. Jemima cowed in the corner as the angry Irishman loomed over her. “For Christ sake Jem pull yourself together.” He pulled her to her feet and marched her into the bedroom.
“What the bloody hell are you playing at Jemima?” he spat. “Why are you ruining things?” He slapped her face. Out of nowhere she found her voice and once she started shouting she couldn’t stop. “You invited me to your house and got pissed and passed out, you humiliated me at work with over the top gifts, you let yourself into my home, uninvited. And then YOU RAPED ME.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You needed to be taught a lesson. It was a bit rough that’s all. “
“You cannot be serious, I begged you to stop. Do you really think I consented?” Jemima was becoming more confident now, “YOU NEED TO LEAVE.” She took a breath “NOW!!”She walked towards him pushing him towards the door.
“Oh no sugar… I will leave when I’m ready”. He pushed her back. The couple tussled. Jemima was desperate to get him out of the room, but he was stronger.
Suddenly the world was spinning, Jemima felt herself falling backwards. As she went down her head hit the corner of the oak sleigh bed, she felt like her skull had split and tasted blood in her mouth before passing out.
Patrick looked on in horror. He knelt beside her. Relief flooded through him as he saw her chest rise. She was unconscious but breathing. Time he left. He assumed Jem would come round in a few minutes. Maybe she wouldn’t remember much but just in case she was tempted to call the police he removed the wine bottles and his wine glass and pocketed her ripped panties from the living room. He left through the back door in case he was seen.
In San Francisco Mark had settled into the company condo and started to enjoy the work. He was looking forward to reading Jemima’s letter. They were regularly texting and he’d been touched when Jemima and his Mother had Face timed him. He was glad Jem had gone to Dorset, Violet set his teeth on edge at times but he knew she was a safe, if slightly eccentric pair of hands and his wife needed so TLC.
After a late breakfast on his balcony he rang J