Read When I Wasn't Watching for Free Online Page B

face.
    â€˜Mum,’ she said matter of factly, ‘I lost a child.’
    Danielle said nothing, just watched her daughter, a moment ago so full of wrath, now anxiously worrying at her nails, and remembered how in the aftermath of Jack’s murder Lucy had seemed to fold in on herself over and over until there was nothing left.
So did I
, she thought,
I lost my child too
.
    Matt jogged up the stairs to Carla’s apartment, a bunch of lilies in one hand. A poor peace offering no doubt, but after two days of the silent treatment Matt knew he had to make some kind of gesture. He had never known Carla to be silent for two hours, never mind days, and when she had failed to even answer her mobile to him that morning he had begun to wonder if there was something seriously wrong. Having seen the interview with Lucy Randall in the paper the day before, he guessed Carla would be seriously put out that another reporter had pipped her to the post, but even so three whole days of sulking seemed excessive.
    As he reached the doors and passed the flowers from one hand to the other to press Carla’s number, he felt a gnawing sense of dread at seeing her that in turn made him feel sad. What had happened to the days when they had looked forward to seeing each other, when they had actually enjoyed each other’s company? They seemed a lifetime away.
    Matt shook off his nostalgia as Carla’s voice rang out a hello through the intercom.
    â€˜Can I come in? I want to talk.’ There was a silence that even through the intercom system managed to convey frostiness. ‘I’ve missed you,’ he added, even though the nature of his job – and his own regular need for solitude – meant that going three days or even weeks without seeing each other wasn’t unusual. She didn’t answer, but the buzzer went and the door in front of him clicked to signify his welcome.
    Carla, as he expected, curled her nose up at the lilies but took them anyway, and bustled around putting them in water and arranging them without saying a word to him as he stood awkwardly waiting.
    â€˜Carla, I’m sorry,’ he began, though as usual he wasn’t quite sure what he had to apologise for. She straightened and looked at him, her full mouth pursed. She was wearing a ridiculously tight, low-cut top and Matt had to tear his eyes away from her breasts, his cock twitching at the thought of burying his head in them. It had been a while.
    As if reading his thoughts, Carla crossed her arms across her chest. She looked lovely, her hair curled and face carefully made up, as if she had pre-empted his arrival.
    â€˜No, Matt, I’m sorry. This clearly isn’t working. You’re selfish, egotistical, and clearly don’t appreciate what you’ve got.’ She uncrossed her arms and motioned towards herself, displaying again what he was apparently not appreciating. Matt sighed.
    â€˜Carla, we’ve been over all this before. I’ve always made it clear how I feel. If that’s not enough for you, then I’m sorry.’ He realised that he was sorry. For all her faults Carla was a good woman, and certainly did deserve better than a short-on-time, commitment-shy cop. Even so, her next words weren’t what he was expecting.
    â€˜Well, it’s not enough. So I’ve found someone who is.’
    Matt gaped at her. In two days? Even by Carla’s standards, that was pretty quick. It dawned on him that the display of cleavage and shiny hair weren’t meant for him after all.
    â€˜Okay,’ he nodded, determined to be grown up about this. ‘Well, I hope we can be friends.’ Did anyone even say that any more? The phrase sounded false even to him.
    He didn’t ask the question Carla obviously expected – or wanted – him to ask, but she answered it for him anyway.
    â€˜It’s Jacob. The new editor from work. You’ve met him before.’
    Matt remembered him, a stuck-up,