I Would, Wouldn't You?

Chapter Two

Day Two

Elizabeth

Sunlight streamed in through the net curtains. Elizabeth snatched a white blouse from the closet and wrestled it on, followed by a plain black pinafore dress. She grabbed a pair of heels, slung their backs over her fingers and then hurried out into the hallway. She stopped. "Watch," she said and dashed back into the bedroom, dumping the shoes at the foot of the bed.

The replica of her father's watch waited atop the dresser. She slipped it on and fumbled with the catch. One glance at the tick-tick-ticking hands and her heart lurched. Thirty-five years. It felt as though the breath had been knocked from her lungs. People had always said that as time passed, she would think about them less often and the pain would fade. And sure enough, the thoughts had subsided, but in a way that hurt more, as each thought that did arise reminded her that—for a moment—she had forgotten. And what kind of person could forget?

Ten minutes. Elizabeth picked up her shoes and raced down the stairs. The aroma of fresh coffee and the sizzle of bacon hitting the pan greeted her as she strode down the last step into the kitchen. At the table, Jason was tucking into a bacon sandwich—a dollop of red sauce escaped the bread and splashed against the plate—whilst the girls each shovelled spoonfuls of cheerios into their mouths.

"Good morning." She waved at them, but they only mustered a vague murmur of 'Morning' in reply as they stared at their phone and tablet screens. Her smile slackened. She turned to Henry, stood at the hob; he wore an apron over his shirt and dress pants to protect him from the spray of bacon fat as he turned the rashers over in the pan. "You know, this kind of invisibility would have been really useful in the CIA."

Henry chuckled. Then he pointed the tongs at a bacon sandwich and mug of coffee that sat at the end of the kitchen island. "Eat something before you have to run."

Elizabeth squeezed into the gap behind him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. She lingered there a moment and breathed in the faint scent of cologne. "Sorry about last night."

Henry reached round and his hand found her hip. "Don't be."

She kissed him again, this time a peppering between the shoulder blades, and then she let go and padded over to the table, picking up the plate and mug on her way. She set them down in the place next to Stevie's and pulled out the—

"Oh God." Stevie dropped her spoon into the bowl with a clatter, and the milk splashed over the side and spattered the tabletop. She scrolled rapidly down the screen of her phone.

Elizabeth clutched the back of her daughter's chair and peered over her shoulder at the blur of the Twitter feed. "What is it?"

Stevie twisted round and glanced up at Elizabeth, her eyes wide. "There's something trending about you on Twitter."

Elizabeth's stomach tripped. "Well, that sounds ominous."

Henry joined them. He placed his own bacon sandwich down on the table and then stood with his hand against the small of Elizabeth's back. Jason and Alison scrolled down the screens of their tablets too, breakfast forgotten. The further they scrolled, the more their expressions hardened; Alison's brow pinched whilst Jason's lips drew into a tight pout.

The tips of Elizabeth's fingers prickled. What, exactly, had happened now?

"Apparently, Russ Freyton," Stevie said, and Elizabeth frowned. Who? "—the comedian—mentioned you on his show last night."

"Isn't that the guy who's always taking a stab at your policies?" Henry said as he rubbed Elizabeth's back.

"Well, he's moved on from policies now," Stevie said, and her cheeks pinkened. She hit the play button on a video and passed Elizabeth the phone.