The Big Five O. Jane Wenham-Jones

shifty and then he got a phone message …’

      Charlotte twisted the mug around again. ‘No, he wasn’t looking anything. His phone was plugged into the charger over there. I was right by it when the message came in and I could see the first line of it as a notification on the screen. There was a smiley face and ‘I’ll put you through your paces on Wednesday when …’ I couldn’t read any more without unlocking it. And I couldn’t do that because he was in the doorway as it beeped and the next thing he’d shot across the room and picked it up and read it. And put the phone back in his pocket.’

      ‘Which isn’t actually an admission of guilt,’ put in Fay.

      ‘So later,’ Charlotte went on, ignoring her, ‘when he’d left it on the side again, I tried to unlock it and it isn’t the same code any more! Why would he change the number, unless it was because he didn’t want me looking in his phone?’

      ‘Well, why are you looking in his phone?’ Fay fixed her with a searching look. ‘Why not just say: who was that from?’

      ‘I did – and he said it was someone from work.’

      ‘Well, maybe it was. You know, a bit of banter. You should hear the way my blokes go on. They–’

      ‘Well it clearly wasn’t,’ Charlotte interrupted hotly. ‘Because later still, I asked to use his phone – saying I wanted to WhatsApp Becky and I’d left my phone upstairs and couldn’t be arsed to go and get it – and–’

      ‘He didn’t want you to?’

      ‘He handed it over as smiley as anything!’

      Fay frowned in confusion. Charlotte’s face was grim. ‘And guess what? The message had gone. He’d fucking deleted it.’

      Charlotte’s voice rose. ‘And it wasn’t someone from work anyway, cos their number would be stored wouldn’t it? It would say Fred or Dick. This was just a number … It’s some woman he’s met in a chat room.’

      ‘Oh come on!’ Fay’s eyebrows had risen further. ‘That’s going nought to ninety a bit quick. Could be a colleague he rarely deals with–’

      ‘Why the banter then?’

      ‘Or someone he usually speaks to in person so they’re not in his phone. OR–’ Fay looked inspired, ‘– it was simply a wrong number. Which is why he deleted it. And he came across quickly because he was expecting someone from work …’

      ‘You’re not listening!’ Charlotte said tetchily. ‘He said ‘someone from work’, which is also odd because usually he’d say the name.’

      ‘Why don’t you just ask him again?’

      ‘Because if he is up to something, I’m going to catch him at it. I’m not going to be made to feel paranoid this time.’

      Privately, Fay thought it might be a trifle late for that. She frowned again. ‘This time?’

      Charlotte hesitated, still turning the mug round and round on the table. ‘There was this girl in his office,’ she said. ‘Hannah. Bit of a bunny boiler. She had a crush on him and he was lapping it up till I found out.’

      ‘Most men would. Did anything happen?’

      ‘He said not. They had some drinks … She used to text him all the time though. Suppose she’s back?’

      ‘How long ago was this?’

      ‘Six years or so. Laura warned her off initially before I got hold of it. By then Roger was panicking anyway because she wouldn’t leave him alone and eventually she moved away.’

      ‘Unlikely she’d reappear after all this time.’

      Charlotte shrugged. ‘I’ve looked for her on Facebook but I couldn’t–’

      Fay put hand on arm. ‘Don’t!’

      Charlotte shook her head. ‘I know! I hate myself for being like this and I hate Roger for making me.’

      Fay spoke firmly. ‘Now come on. We don’t know he has yet. If that Hannah caused him trouble before, he’d hardly engage with her now, even if she did turn up again. And this Marion could be anyone.’

      They both looked at the piece of paper Fay was still holding – displaying the name and mobile number in Roger’s handwriting.

      ‘A client for example’ said Fay.

      ‘He doesn’t have clients any more does he? He’s the in-house lawyer.’

      ‘Who’s negotiating a string of take-overs – he told me about it when I came for the curry. CTG are snapping up all sorts of smaller wealth management outfits, aren’t they? Marion could be some hot-shot chief executive he had to phone back – or her secretary!’

      ‘Yes, she could be. But my gut tells me she’s the same woman who sent the sexual message. And I feel like I did last time. When I knew there was something up but I couldn’t put my finger on it.’ Her voice became bitter. ‘And he denied it of course.’

      ‘Well of course he did.’ Fay’s tone was matter of fact. ‘You said – he was panicking.’

      ‘And I have the same feeling again,’ Charlotte went on. ‘That he’s hiding something.’

      ‘Your birthday present?’

      ‘I don’t think so.’

      ‘Look,’ Fay leant her elbows on the scrubbed wood and looked hard at Charlotte. ‘You don’t have to wind yourself up like this. You simply say: Roger, I read that message and it sounded like innuendo and I couldn’t help noticing when I was having a poke about, that you’ve changed the code on your phone. Why?’

      ‘But then he’ll make up something plausible that makes me sound like a mad, jealous old shrew and then I’ll feel worse. And–’ Charlotte stopped abruptly and stood up. ‘Do you want a glass of wine?’

      Fay looked at her watch. ‘Yeah ok. Len’s at the office. I don’t need to go back.’ She pulled out her phone and glanced at it. ‘Just one.’

      Charlotte crossed her kitchen and opened the huge fridge, returning to the big pine table with two goblets of white and a bowl of peanuts.

      She sat down and took a swallow. ‘What I’m going to do,’ she said, putting the glass down and surveying Fay with what appeared to be fresh determination, ‘is see what happens on Wednesday.’

      She took another mouthful of her wine. ‘If he’s got a rendezvous planned then he’ll have to make some excuse to be back late. So then I’ll know. And if she – whoever she is – has been putting him through his paces, he’ll find it was nothing to what I’ll be doing when he gets home!’

      ‘OK,’ said Fay. ‘So that’s a plan. Sounds good. Now, how are we getting on with the party?’

      She watched Charlotte, as her friend reluctantly allowed the subject to be changed and brought Fay up to date with her investigations into cake designs and balloon prices. ‘Two hundred in silver, a hundred in this sort of pale lilac, and a hundred in burgundy – they look really stylish grouped together. And the pale ones will have burgundy lettering – The Big Five-O!’

      ‘I like it,’ Fay nodded. ‘Helium?’

      ‘Of course. Long strings so they come up from the floor, with shorter ones for the tables.’

      ‘Brilliant.’

      ‘I thought we could let them all go over Viking Bay at the end. Video it!’

      ‘Yeah, great.’

      There was a small silence. Charlotte had finished her first glass of wine and was pouring a second. Fay put her hand over the top of her own glass. ‘Got the car.’

      ‘If I even feel like having a party