The Husband’s Secret

realised the shops would be closed the next day, for one whole day , and had gone into a panic about the state of her pantry.
    ‘I love hot cross buns,’ said Connor.
    ‘Me too.’
    ‘Really? We’ve got so much in common.’
    Tess laughed. She noticed Liam looking up at her curiously, and she turned slightly away from him, so that he couldn’t see her flushed face.
    ‘Anyway,’ said Connor. ‘I wasn’t calling for any particular reason. I just wanted to say that I thought last night was really . . . nice.’ He coughed. ‘That’s an understatement actually.’
    Oh God , thought Tess. She pressed the palm of her hand to her burning cheek.
    ‘I know things are really complicated for you right now,’ continued Connor. ‘I don’t have any, ah, expectations, I promise you. I’m not going to make your life more complicated. But I just wanted you to know that I’d love to see you again. Any time.’
    ‘Mum?’ Liam pulled on the edge of her cardigan. ‘Is that Dad?’
    Tess shook her head.
    ‘Who is it?’ demanded Liam. His eyes were big and worried.
    Tess pulled the phone away from her ear and put a finger to her lip. ‘It’s a client.’ Liam lost interest immediately. He was used to conversations with clients.
    Tess took a few steps away from the crowd of customers waiting to be served at the bakery.
    ‘It’s okay,’ said Connor. ‘Like I said, I really don’t have any –’
    ‘Are you free tonight?’ interrupted Tess.
    ‘God, yes.’
    ‘I’ll come over once Liam is asleep.’ She put her lips close to the phone as if she was a secret agent. ‘I’ll bring hot cross buns.’

    Rachel was walking towards her car when she saw her daughter’s murderer.
    He was talking on his mobile phone, swinging his motorbike helmet held loosely in his fingertips. As she got closer, he suddenly tipped back his head to the sun as if he’d just received unexpectedly wonderful news. The afternoon light glinted off his sunglasses. He snapped the phone shut and slid it in his jacket pocket, smiling to himself.
    Rachel thought again of the video and remembered the expression on his face when he turned on Janie. She could see it so clearly. The face of a monster: leering, malicious, cruel.
    And now look at him. Connor Whitby was very alive and very happy and why wouldn’t he be, because he’d got away with it . If the police did nothing, as seemed likely, he would never pay for what he’d done.
    As she got closer, Connor caught sight of Rachel and his smiled vanished instantly, as if a light had been snapped off.
    Guilty , thought Rachel. Guilty . Guilty . Guilty .

    ‘This came by overnight courier for you,’ said Lucy when Tess was home unpacking the groceries. ‘Looks like it’s from your father. Fancy him managing to send something by courier .’
    Intrigued, Tess sat down at the kitchen table with her mother and unwrapped the small bubble-wrapped package. Inside was a flat square box.
    ‘He hasn’t sent you jewellery, has he?’ asked her mother. She peered over to look.
    ‘It’s a compass,’ said Tess. It was a beautiful old-fashioned wooden compass. ‘It’s like something Captain Cook would have used.’
    ‘How peculiar,’ sniffed her mother.
    As Tess lifted up the compass she saw a small handwritten yellow post-it note stuck to the bottom of the box.
    Dear Tess, she read. This is probably a silly gift for a girl. I never did know the right thing to buy you. I was trying to think of something that would help when you’re feeling lost. I remember feeling lost. It was bloody awful. But I always had you. Hope you find your way, Love Dad.
    Tess felt something rise within her chest.
    ‘I guess it’s quite pretty,’ said Lucy, taking the compass and turning it this way and that.
    Tess imagined her father searching the shops for the right gift for his adult daughter; the expression of mild terror that would have crossed his leathery, lined face each time someone asked, ‘Can I help you?’ Most of the shop assistants would have thought him rude, a grumpy, gruff old man who refused to meet their eye.
    ‘Why did you and Dad split up?’ Tess used to ask her mother, and Lucy would say airily, a little glint in her eye, ‘Oh, darling, we were just two very different people.’ She meant: Your father was different. (When Tess asked her father the same question, he’d shrug and cough and say, ‘You’ll have to ask your mum about that one, love.’)
    It occurred to Tess that her father