‘No,’ she replied. ‘It’s been like this all night. The baby’s either been pressing on my bladder or kicking me.’
‘Has your headache lifted?’
‘Not really, no. There’s nothing I can take for it but the occasional aspirin and they’re doing little to help.’
‘Is it worth mentioning to the midwife this afternoon?’
‘Probably not. She’ll only tell me it’s high blood pressure or chronic hypertension again and that I’ve got to chill. You try relaxing when there’s a jackhammer going through your head.’
‘Can I get you anything?’
‘A herbal tea would be nice. One of those lemon and jasmine ones in the cupboard.’
Nick put the kettle on the stove and they sat quietly, both staring ahead at nothing in particular while they waited for it to whistle.
Five months had passed since Nick had left Alex; the letter saying he was choosing Sally and the baby. It was long and heartfelt, and he hoped that he would understand the decision he’d made. He’d known how much it would hurt him, but he’d tried to tell himself that if Alex had been in an identical situation with his ex-girlfriend Mary, he’d have done the same thing. This hadn’t done much to assuage his guilt.
It had been the hardest thing Nick had ever had to do, much tougher than admitting to Sally he had fallen in love with a man. This unborn baby he had sacrificed everything for would grow up having no idea what its father had given up for it.
Nick reluctantly moved back into their apartment, although now he spent his nights in the spare bedroom. He hoped that a clean break from Alex, rather than a painful, lingering one, would be easier to handle, but he’d been fooling himself – barely an hour passed without him dwelling on his lost love.
A handful of days before Alex’s departure, Nick had found himself on Alex’s doorstep, apologising.
Alex had given him a frosty reception, berating him for being such a coward. But he couldn’t maintain his animosity for long and they agreed to enjoy their last few days together.
However, no matter where they went or what they did, their relationship was no longer the same. The intense feelings remained but gone was the laughter, the spontaneity and the fun, all being replaced with an eye on the clock as they watched and waited as it counted down to the day Alex would leave Nick’s life.
And when that day arrived, it was even worse than Nick could have ever imagined. He insisted on accompanying Alex to the airport but, at the last minute, a distraught Alex changed his mind, begging to be allowed to go alone. Their goodbye consisted of a long, silent embrace until they could no longer ignore the taxi driver blowing his horn. Then, when the cab turned the corner out of sight, Nick sat on the steps outside Alex’s apartment and sobbed. He only returned home when his eyes were so tender he couldn’t cry any longer.
He cancelled his sabbatical from work and returned to the advertising agency a week later, his colleagues none the wiser as to Nick’s heartbreak. He threw himself into his work to busy his mind and, at weekends, he and Sally would shop for baby-related necessities as if they were any other expectant couple. He accompanied her to Lamaze classes, stayed at home for health visitor appointments and massaged her feet and ankles when they were swollen.
To an outsider, Sally and Nick’s life resembled what it had been like before they’d known about Alex’s existence. But in reality, the shadow he left continued to loom over them.
‘Have you spoken to Sumaira recently?’ Nick asked. ‘How are the babies?’
‘I texted her yesterday,’ Sally said with little enthusiasm.
‘Something’s definitely gone on between you two that you’re not telling me about. She had them four weeks ago and you still haven’t been to visit.’
‘I told you before, we’re good. I’m just giving her time to settle down.’
‘You barely saw her while she was pregnant. Is there something you’re not telling me?’
‘Nick, my head hurts and I’m tired. I’m not in the mood for this.’
Steam blew from the kettle’s nozzle and brought both of them back to reality. Nick dropped a teabag into Sally’s cup and filled it with boiling water, but a dripping sound somewhere else in the kitchen caught his attention. He examined the bottom of the mug to see if it was cracked, but then a sharp intake of breath made him turn his head.
‘My waters,’ Sally began nervously, ‘they’ve just broken.’ Her pyjama bottoms were wet and a look of fear warped her face.
‘But you’re not due for another fortnight?’ Nick replied.
‘Try telling the baby that.’
Chapter 90
ELLIE
Ellie was suffocating. She felt as if someone was kneeling on her chest, restricting each breath and refusing to allow fresh air into her lungs. Each of her body’s ten pulse points vibrated like the woofers in a stereo speaker. But the only noise in her office was the echo of Matthew’s confession.
Pull yourself together, Ellie, she told herself. He’s lying.
‘What does it feel like, knowing you’ve been duped?’ Matthew asked softly, like a therapist would to his patient. He arranged his fingers in a steeple-like formation in front of his mouth to add to the fake sincerity of his question. ‘How does the puppet master feel having her strings pulled by someone else?’
‘I wouldn’t know,’ Ellie replied, ‘because nobody pulls my strings. Everything you’ve said is bullshit.’
‘How can you be so sure of that?’
‘My IT department will prove it.’ She reached for her phone but there was no signal. She grabbed the telephone on the table but could hear no dial tone. She glared at Matthew. ‘What have you done?’
‘A signal blocker and two phone jammers. Like a modern-day Faraday cage.’
‘What do you want from me?’
‘Believe it or not, absolutely nothing. Not a single penny, not an apology, not an explanation. I’ll get enough gratification over the next few days when this becomes public and the world will begin to doubt whether the person on the other side of their bed really is the one who’s supposed to be there.’
Something inside Ellie suddenly snapped. Her self-preservation instinct, built from so many years as a woman in a male-dominated corporate world, kicked in with glaring a speed. She rose to her feet with such force, it took Matthew by surprise.
‘I’ll deny your claims. Who’s going to believe you?’ she snarled. ‘My press department is built for damage limitation and we’ll spin this so you come across as a desperate, two-bit systems analyst who wasn’t qualified enough to get a job here. Then we will find everything there is to know about you to discredit what you have to say. I’ll savage what’s left of your dead mother’s reputation by dragging her and her paedophile boyfriend’s name through the mud, alongside any friend or acquaintance you may have. The Sunday League football team you play for? None of them will have jobs by the end of the week, I guarantee you. Then I’ll tie you up in court with so much litigation and private prosecutions that you won’t be able to afford a bed to sleep in. By the time you have left this building, we’ll have found whatever wormhole you claim to have discovered and seal it up so there will be no proof you ever broke into our system.’
‘I’m your fiancé,’ Matthew said confidently. ‘That’ll give me a lot more credibility. Especially when I tell everyone that the woman who’s amassed a personal fortune out of predetermined love is willing to hide the fact there are 2 million people out there who have been Matched incorrectly. There’ll be an investigation at the very least. There is no way out of this for you, Ells.’
‘Has your headache lifted?’
‘Not really, no. There’s nothing I can take for it but the occasional aspirin and they’re doing little to help.’
‘Is it worth mentioning to the midwife this afternoon?’
‘Probably not. She’ll only tell me it’s high blood pressure or chronic hypertension again and that I’ve got to chill. You try relaxing when there’s a jackhammer going through your head.’
‘Can I get you anything?’
‘A herbal tea would be nice. One of those lemon and jasmine ones in the cupboard.’
Nick put the kettle on the stove and they sat quietly, both staring ahead at nothing in particular while they waited for it to whistle.
Five months had passed since Nick had left Alex; the letter saying he was choosing Sally and the baby. It was long and heartfelt, and he hoped that he would understand the decision he’d made. He’d known how much it would hurt him, but he’d tried to tell himself that if Alex had been in an identical situation with his ex-girlfriend Mary, he’d have done the same thing. This hadn’t done much to assuage his guilt.
It had been the hardest thing Nick had ever had to do, much tougher than admitting to Sally he had fallen in love with a man. This unborn baby he had sacrificed everything for would grow up having no idea what its father had given up for it.
Nick reluctantly moved back into their apartment, although now he spent his nights in the spare bedroom. He hoped that a clean break from Alex, rather than a painful, lingering one, would be easier to handle, but he’d been fooling himself – barely an hour passed without him dwelling on his lost love.
A handful of days before Alex’s departure, Nick had found himself on Alex’s doorstep, apologising.
Alex had given him a frosty reception, berating him for being such a coward. But he couldn’t maintain his animosity for long and they agreed to enjoy their last few days together.
However, no matter where they went or what they did, their relationship was no longer the same. The intense feelings remained but gone was the laughter, the spontaneity and the fun, all being replaced with an eye on the clock as they watched and waited as it counted down to the day Alex would leave Nick’s life.
And when that day arrived, it was even worse than Nick could have ever imagined. He insisted on accompanying Alex to the airport but, at the last minute, a distraught Alex changed his mind, begging to be allowed to go alone. Their goodbye consisted of a long, silent embrace until they could no longer ignore the taxi driver blowing his horn. Then, when the cab turned the corner out of sight, Nick sat on the steps outside Alex’s apartment and sobbed. He only returned home when his eyes were so tender he couldn’t cry any longer.
He cancelled his sabbatical from work and returned to the advertising agency a week later, his colleagues none the wiser as to Nick’s heartbreak. He threw himself into his work to busy his mind and, at weekends, he and Sally would shop for baby-related necessities as if they were any other expectant couple. He accompanied her to Lamaze classes, stayed at home for health visitor appointments and massaged her feet and ankles when they were swollen.
To an outsider, Sally and Nick’s life resembled what it had been like before they’d known about Alex’s existence. But in reality, the shadow he left continued to loom over them.
‘Have you spoken to Sumaira recently?’ Nick asked. ‘How are the babies?’
‘I texted her yesterday,’ Sally said with little enthusiasm.
‘Something’s definitely gone on between you two that you’re not telling me about. She had them four weeks ago and you still haven’t been to visit.’
‘I told you before, we’re good. I’m just giving her time to settle down.’
‘You barely saw her while she was pregnant. Is there something you’re not telling me?’
‘Nick, my head hurts and I’m tired. I’m not in the mood for this.’
Steam blew from the kettle’s nozzle and brought both of them back to reality. Nick dropped a teabag into Sally’s cup and filled it with boiling water, but a dripping sound somewhere else in the kitchen caught his attention. He examined the bottom of the mug to see if it was cracked, but then a sharp intake of breath made him turn his head.
‘My waters,’ Sally began nervously, ‘they’ve just broken.’ Her pyjama bottoms were wet and a look of fear warped her face.
‘But you’re not due for another fortnight?’ Nick replied.
‘Try telling the baby that.’
Chapter 90
ELLIE
Ellie was suffocating. She felt as if someone was kneeling on her chest, restricting each breath and refusing to allow fresh air into her lungs. Each of her body’s ten pulse points vibrated like the woofers in a stereo speaker. But the only noise in her office was the echo of Matthew’s confession.
Pull yourself together, Ellie, she told herself. He’s lying.
‘What does it feel like, knowing you’ve been duped?’ Matthew asked softly, like a therapist would to his patient. He arranged his fingers in a steeple-like formation in front of his mouth to add to the fake sincerity of his question. ‘How does the puppet master feel having her strings pulled by someone else?’
‘I wouldn’t know,’ Ellie replied, ‘because nobody pulls my strings. Everything you’ve said is bullshit.’
‘How can you be so sure of that?’
‘My IT department will prove it.’ She reached for her phone but there was no signal. She grabbed the telephone on the table but could hear no dial tone. She glared at Matthew. ‘What have you done?’
‘A signal blocker and two phone jammers. Like a modern-day Faraday cage.’
‘What do you want from me?’
‘Believe it or not, absolutely nothing. Not a single penny, not an apology, not an explanation. I’ll get enough gratification over the next few days when this becomes public and the world will begin to doubt whether the person on the other side of their bed really is the one who’s supposed to be there.’
Something inside Ellie suddenly snapped. Her self-preservation instinct, built from so many years as a woman in a male-dominated corporate world, kicked in with glaring a speed. She rose to her feet with such force, it took Matthew by surprise.
‘I’ll deny your claims. Who’s going to believe you?’ she snarled. ‘My press department is built for damage limitation and we’ll spin this so you come across as a desperate, two-bit systems analyst who wasn’t qualified enough to get a job here. Then we will find everything there is to know about you to discredit what you have to say. I’ll savage what’s left of your dead mother’s reputation by dragging her and her paedophile boyfriend’s name through the mud, alongside any friend or acquaintance you may have. The Sunday League football team you play for? None of them will have jobs by the end of the week, I guarantee you. Then I’ll tie you up in court with so much litigation and private prosecutions that you won’t be able to afford a bed to sleep in. By the time you have left this building, we’ll have found whatever wormhole you claim to have discovered and seal it up so there will be no proof you ever broke into our system.’
‘I’m your fiancé,’ Matthew said confidently. ‘That’ll give me a lot more credibility. Especially when I tell everyone that the woman who’s amassed a personal fortune out of predetermined love is willing to hide the fact there are 2 million people out there who have been Matched incorrectly. There’ll be an investigation at the very least. There is no way out of this for you, Ells.’
