Page 123 of Maybe Tomorrow

‘I’ve simply done my job.’

‘I want to hug you.’

‘I accept hugs.’

Freya jumped up, ran around the desk to him and threw her arms around his neck, squeezing him tight.

‘I also accept a good malt whisky.’

She laughed. ‘Consider it done.’

Jennifer was in the kitchen trying to make something out of whatever hadn’t been packed. In two days’ time, they would be moving house. Jennifer was sad to go but, according to Malcolm, the Home Secretary couldn’t live in a two-bed semi. They’d been in this house for more than fifteen years. Jennifer loved it, especially the kitchen. The new house, three miles away, was far too grand for them both, but this was their lifestyle now.

‘Did I give you my wallet?’ Malcolm asked, coming into the kitchen.

‘Yes. You always give me your wallet because you always say you’ll lose it.’

‘Where is it?’

‘It’s in my handbag which contains more of your junk than mine.’

‘Ah.’

Jennifer’s handbag was on the sofa in the corner of the open-plan room. He went over to retrieve it when the thunderbolt hit Jennifer.

‘Wait, Malcolm, don’t…’

It was too late.

‘What’s this?’ he asked, turning back to her and holding up a box of tablets.

‘What’s what?’

‘This. Medication. I didn’t know you were taking medication.’

‘It’s… erm… it’s for…’ She wasn’t quick enough to think up a convincing lie.

‘This is the contraceptive pill.’

Jennifer didn’t say anything.

‘Isn’t it?’

She nodded.

‘How long have you been on this?’

‘A… while.’

‘How long is a while?’

‘On and off for… a few years.’

‘On and off?’ His voice was calm, but his face was red with rage. ‘And are you on or off it now?’

‘On,’ she said, barely audibly.

‘So, all this time?—’