Page 22 of One of Us Is Guilty

The flame of the blow torch bowing as it hit the bevel of the spoon, fire spilling from its edges as if it was liquid.

The head of the spoon blackening, and then glowing.

The hissing, the smoke and the smell of her own burning flesh.

And all this accompanied by the fear she had felt in that moment, alive again within her chest.

It played out in microseconds in her head, the moving images clear and crisp, accompanied by a sound. The sound she had heard as her flesh seared—

She grabbed a spoon, slammed the drawer shut and stirred her coffee.

She turned to face Molly and leaned her back against the counter.

‘We’ll reschedule the Hamptons party,’ said Vanessa.

‘Thank you. That frees up Patrick for the podcast recording. I’ll confirm with the bookers?’

‘Of course. It’s what Patrick wanted,’ said Vanessa.

‘His father seemed pretty insistent. It’s a huge podcast with millions of streams. He cares a lot about Patrick’s campaign.’

She noticed that in the time Molly had walked behind her, from the dining room to the kitchen, she had taken the opportunity to do up two buttons on her blouse.

‘I think he wanted to tell you himself, for sure. Sorry about the text,’ said Molly. As she said this, her left arm swept up to stroke a loose hair behind her ear and the sleeve of her blouse rolled down to her elbow, and Vanessa saw . . .

The bracelet.

Fine white gold.

There was no mistaking it.

The bracelet that Patrick had been hiding in his bathroom cabinet.

The bracelet that Vanessa assumed would be her anniversary gift.

Vanessa opened her mouth to speak, but realized that she had said nothing. Her mouth was open, dumbly, her breath trapped in her chest.

Vanessa angled her gaze, making sure no one else was about to wander into the kitchen.

‘How long has it been now?’ asked Vanessa.

Molly’s eyebrows knitted together, just for a moment, trying to find the right context for the question.

‘Oh, I’ve been with the campaign for three months now.’

‘I didn’t mean that. I meant how long have you been sleeping with my husband?’

Molly’s lips curled tightly together, her eyes flaring at the bald accusation.

Vanessa heard footsteps in the hall, held her finger over her lips. When she spoke again, it was at normal volume. ‘How are you fitting in with the rest of the team? Heidi still giving you a hard time?’

‘Oh, ahm, no, not at all. We work great together, actually,’ said Molly, mirroring Vanessa’s voice level. She must’ve heard Patrick’sapproach, and wanted to play along. ‘I feel like I’ve finally got a grip on the way things work in the campaign office.’

Vanessa blinked slowly, signaling that she understood the subtext. And that Molly understood that Patrick was way off limits.

‘I’m so glad,’ said Vanessa. ‘It can be difficult. You know, fitting in? Most PAs don’t last this long in the job.’

With a tiny cock of her head to one side, Molly appeared to register the implied threat in Vanessa’s statement.