by Dan Scottow
Beth didn’t answer. She knew he was right, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. She had never spent a day away from her Daisy. Peter was older, he had slept over at friends’ houses, stayed out at parties, but Daisy… she was Beth’s baby.
She was Beth’s world.
‘Oh, and if you find Peter’s phone in the house, can you let me know? He’s doing my head in going on about it.’
‘Okay.’
The line went dead before Beth could say any more.
She sank to the floor, her back against a kitchen cupboard. The phone clattered on the tiles as it slipped from her hand.
In all her years with Charlie, she’d never heard him sound like that. The fondness in his voice, his chirpy demeanour, absent.
Beth wondered if their relationship would recover. The worst part was that she couldn’t blame him. Everything he had said was true. She had lied, repeatedly, and put her family in danger to protect her own dirty little secret.
A thought struck her as she glanced down at her phone. Picking it up, she scrolled through her messages. She found what she was looking for. The texts from her stalker. She typed out a message.
Who are you? What have you done to my dog?
She didn’t expect a response, but it was worth a shot.
A picture message flashed up on her screen. She blinked, taking it in.
Matted fur.
Blood.
Entrails.
A tiny, broken, honey-coloured body, almost unrecognisable.
Another message appeared.
You’ll find out who I am soon enough.
33
Having spent the best part of a day away from her family, Beth was starting to feel a little stir-crazy. Twice she had resisted the urge to drive around to Derek and Anna’s flat. But she knew that wouldn’t help. If Charlie said he needed time, then she would give it to him. Pushing him would only make things worse. She wasn’t used to a world without having to entertain a six-year-old. Or walk the dog. Or find something Peter had misplaced.
This silence was crippling for Beth.
And she hated it. She thought about texting Margot, asking if she wanted to come over for a drink. But she realised other people had their own lives. It was selfish to impose herself on them because her world had suddenly stopped existing.
And so she sat in her big old farmhouse, alone, staring at the walls.
She sank a bottle of red. And she finally felt relaxed. She rarely drank during the afternoon, but she thought, what the hell.
At about four, her phone buzzed with a text. She eyed it suspiciously on the coffee table, wondering if it might be the stranger. She rose from her seat and picked up the phone.
It was Mikey. Beth felt a rush of excitement.
Hey you, was great to meet you in the week. Hope you’ve had a good one. Up to much this weekend?
It was familiar and friendly. Beth sat back down in her armchair, staring at the message, tapping her thumbnail on the screen for a moment. She typed her reply.
Was lovely to meet you too. Not up to much. You?
Mikey’s reply came in seconds.
Going to see a band, got a spare ticket if you fancy it?
Maybe it was the wine, or fear of being alone, but Beth replied:
Sure. Can you pick me up? I’ve had a drink.
No probs. Where do you live?
Beth hammered in her address, fingers trembling like a schoolgirl. She held her breath as Mikey typed his reply.
See you at 7.
After a brief shower to wash away the shitty day, Beth almost felt human again.
The sorrow of the events still weighed on her mind. She smiled at herself in the mirror. It was convincing enough, although it didn’t reach her eyes.
She pulled on some black wet-look leggings, and a loose-fitting silver T-shirt, with some black heels.
She didn’t want to look like she’d made too much effort, so she put on a little mascara and lipstick, leaving it at that.
Glancing again in the mirror, a pang of guilt hit her.
‘You’re not doing anything wrong,’ she told herself aloud. ‘You’re going for a drink. With a friend.’ She paused.
‘On the same evening your husband has walked out on you with the kids.’
She shook her head, her hair bouncing around her shoulders.
It had taken her such a long time to have the confidence to go back to her natural blonde. The fear that someone would recognise her. It never went away. But Charlie made her feel comfortable enough. She even stopped wearing the stupid thick-framed glasses. With Charlie, she didn’t feel like she needed a disguise anymore.
She could still remember his face the day she got back from the hairdresser; they’d done a good job stripping out the brown.
‘Wow,’ Charlie had said, his chin almost hitting the floor as Beth walked into the kitchen.
Beth smiled to herself.
The buzz of a FaceTime call coming through to her phone jogged her back to reality. It was Charlie, as if he had read her mind. She cursed under her breath, rushing to her wardrobe. Riffling through, she grabbed a grey hoody from a hanger, pulling it over her head.
She hurried back to her phone, accepting the call.
‘Charlie, hi!’ she breathed, trying to sound relaxed. Trying not to slur her words.
There was a short delay before Charlie responded. The wifi signal at the farmhouse was shockingly bad. They couldn’t expect anything better out in the middle of nowhere.
‘Hey, I hope you don’t mind me calling. Daisy wants to say hello before she goes to bed.’
Beth’s heart fluttered.
‘No, that’s absolutely fine.’
‘Right, I’ll put her on.’
The delay was annoying, but in the years they had lived out in the sticks, they had all grown used to it. Peter hated it the most, especially when he was trying to play one of his daft games online.
Beth sat down on the edge of the bed.
‘Mummy!’ Daisy screeched
‘Hello, love.’
Her daughter’s excited face beamed through the screen of her phone. She wore pink pyjamas, and her hair was damp, pulled back in a loose plait after her evening bath.
Beth hated it when Charlie didn’t dry Daisy’s hair properly before bed.
‘I miss you, Mummy.’ The words were juddery, broken, and Beth despised her shitty wifi connection more than ever.
‘Me too.’ Beth tried to keep a smile on her face.
‘You look pretty.’ The line crackled a little, the video froze, Daisy’s face caught in a grotesque expression halfway between a grin and a scream. Beth shook her head as her phone caught up.
‘Thank you. So do you. What have you been up to today?’
Another delay.
The reply came through the phone, but the line was so bad it was indecipherable.
Beth shifted to the other side of the bed, closer to the window, to see if the line improved.
It didn’t.
She turned her body towards the window, her back to the bedroom door. She extended her right arm out as far as she could, angling the phone towards her face, trying to avoid getting her bottom half into the shot.
Daisy said something else; again, Beth couldn’t make it out.
White noise, and disjointed syllables.
‘What was that, love?’ Beth shouted towards the phone.
Another pause, Daisy’s face jerked around on the screen. Jumping from one freeze frame to another, intermittent fragments of words breaking the silence.
‘Sorry, Daisy, the line is really bad.’
‘I said who’s that behind you?’
34
Beth spun around on the bed, towards the door.
Nobody there. But the delay could have given someone time to duck out of view. She turned back to the phone.
‘Daisy, I have to go. Nighty-night, sweetie pie.’
Beth blew a kiss into the phone and ended the call, dropping the
phone onto the bed. She turned, looking out through the doorway. The landing was empty. She stood up slowly.
‘Hello?’ she called out into the empty house, telling herself she was being ridiculous.
Daisy must have been seeing shapes in the dark, through the jerky video call.
But Beth felt afraid. She had always relied on her instincts. It had served her well in life to do so. Slipping off her shoes, she stepped out onto the landing carpet. The soft pile felt good on her bare feet. She tiptoed across the landing to the top of the stairs, and stood, holding her breath. Listening.
There was no sound from the ground floor of the house. So she began her descent. Halfway down the stairs, she paused again. Silence.
Her heart was thumping so hard, she was sure she could hear it. Letting out her breath, she continued down to the hallway below. Everything seemed okay as she glanced towards the kitchen. A quick look into the living room revealed it to be empty. She carried on. There was nobody there.
Turning, she froze.
The front door, wide open, swayed gently, the security chain rocked back and forth, as if someone had brushed against it on their way out. She darted to the doorway, gripping the edge of the frame with both hands, looking out into the driveway, searching.
No movement.
No people.
Nothing.
Slamming the door shut, she slid the chain into place and retreated inside the house. A quick scout reassured her that whoever had been in the house was gone. She was alone again.
Terrified.
She would have to get a locksmith in.
Returning to her bedroom, she removed the hoody.
As she began to fix her hair, the doorbell echoed through the house, and she wondered how much more of this her nerves could take. She crept down the stairs, holding her breath. She was sure a stalker wouldn’t bother ringing the doorbell, but the back of her neck tingled, regardless.
A little caution never hurt anyone.
She approached the door. Opening it a crack, she peered through. Mikey loitered on the doorstep, his back to the house. Relieved, Beth pushed the door shut, sliding off the security chain.
Grabbing a short black leather jacket from the hall cupboard, she opened the door. Mikey turned towards her, and a smile crept onto his face.
‘Hi,’ he said. ‘You ready to go?’
‘Yep.’
Beth stepped out onto the gravel, closing the front door behind her. She looked Mikey up and down, trying to avoid making it obvious. He wore a tight black T-shirt, and a pair of black skinny jeans. He was toned, but not bulky. Beth didn’t think any man should ever wear skinny jeans, but at least he had the thighs and calves to pull it off. He smiled again as they walked towards a sporty-looking red Citroen. His wedding ring glinted in the setting sunlight.
‘Your wife couldn’t make it tonight?’ Beth asked, attempting to sound nonchalant.
‘Our babysitter fell through at the last minute, so Suzie had to stay home with the little ’un.’
Beth relaxed at the mention of his child. She hadn’t pegged him as a father, but now she did, she liked it.
‘Your husband doesn’t mind you heading out on a Saturday night with me?’ Mikey’s eyes flicked sideways. He was testing the water.
Beth hesitated. She didn’t want to think about Charlie. It hurt too much.
‘He trusts me. Who are we going to see?’ she asked, changing the subject.
‘The Hypnotronic Hamsters. It’s kind of… electro, dancey, pop-type stuff.’
Beth raised an eyebrow, as she imagined it was the sort of thing Peter might listen to.
‘They’re awesome, I swear!’
‘I’ll be the judge of that.’ Beth swung her legs into the car as Mikey closed the door for her, like a true gentleman.
* * *
They made small talk on the journey. Beth told Mikey about Daisy and Peter. Mikey gushed over his daughter, Bella, who was two.
Beth told Mikey how Charlie had been her university crush, and how they had been together ever since.
Mikey explained that he had met Suzie on a dating app, five years and still going strong. He seemed embarrassed at first, but Beth assured him it was the modern way. Loads of her colleagues had met their spouses online. It was just how things were done now. Too busy to meet in real life.
The venue was small but trendy. It had originally been a Victorian tea room, and at one point was a notorious biker café, but these days it was a live music spot, popular with the youngsters. Beth and Charlie used to go there a lot, but they hadn’t been for years. She couldn’t even recall the last time.
Standing in the queue surrounded by twenty-somethings, and the odd thirty-something, Beth suddenly worried she had made a mistake. The effects of the bottle of wine were beginning to wear off, and she felt like mutton dressed as lamb.
She thought about her children in a strange flat, wondering what reason Charlie had given them for the upheaval. She hoped Peter had not heard any of their conversation earlier in the day. It was bad enough that Charlie knew the truth about her past. She couldn’t bear her children finding out.
Charlie would never tell them. She was confident of that.
But Peter knew something was going on. Beth prayed he would not try to do any investigating of his own.
‘Here.’ Mikey handed Beth a small silver hip flask.
She unscrewed the cap and sniffed the contents. The warming smell of bourbon burned her nostrils.
‘We can get a taxi home,’ he added, winking.
Beth took a swig. The liquid felt hot as it flowed down her gullet. She winced, downing another couple of swigs, then handed the flask back to Mikey, who did the same. He tucked it into the waist band of his jeans.
The queue moved fast, and before too long they were inside the venue.
It was dark and loud. As they made their way to the bar, the whisky began to go to Beth’s head. The pounding bass coursed through her, moving her body with the beat.
‘What are you drinking?’ she bellowed over the music, leaning in close to Mikey’s ear.
‘Surprise me!’ he shouted back, moving his face closer to her skin. His lips brushed against her ear and she stifled a grin.
Beth ordered two beers, handing one to Mikey. They pushed through the heaving crowd towards the stage. She removed her jacket and saw Mikey staring at her.
‘You look great!’
She smiled again, and as the whisky took effect, the catastrophic events of the last twenty-four hours started to ebb away.
The image of Cooper’s mutilated carcase flashed into her mind, and she screwed her eyes shut.
A warm hand on her arm drew her back to the room. She found Mikey staring at her.
‘You okay?’ he asked.
She nodded, starting to dance again. As more people filled the space, Mikey was shoved closer to her. He danced beside her, his body bumping against her now and then.
And she liked it.
She drained her beer, dropping the empty bottle onto the dance floor. It clattered against her feet and spun off across the concrete. Mikey handed Beth the flask again. She took a large gulp of the liquid. It burned, the way whisky always did, but she didn’t care anymore. Reaching one hand up, she weaved her fingers into her hair, swaying back and forth to the music.
The band arrived on stage, and the crowd exploded into a cacophony of screams and whistles.
Beth turned towards the action as a drumbeat filled the room, accompanied by synthesisers and guitars, and a soothing, melodic vocal. Her body pulsated, as she lost herself in the rhythm.
A couple of songs in, she became aware of Mikey’s crotch pressing up against her. She continued to dance. His hands played briefly on her hips, then he pulled away. Beth danced backwards, pushing her bottom into his groin. His hands appeared on her hips once more, firmer this time. More confident. His fingers slid up her skin, under her T-shirt and brushed against her bare stomach. Beth’s whole body tingled. Elec
tricity sparked in her brain.
She pivoted, they were face to face, and Mikey looked into her eyes. He cocked his head, and then he was on her. His lips locked on hers, his tongue in her mouth. He tasted of beer and whisky. Beth’s head swam in the excitement. She felt as though she could swallow him whole as he probed her with his tongue.
In that moment, Beth felt more alive, more turned on than she had in years.
And then she pushed him away. He looked confused, a little hurt.
‘I’m sorry!’ Beth shouted. ‘I can’t.’ And she weaved through the throng of hedonistic revellers, leaving Mikey on the dance floor. The music filled her ears, and she realised she really didn’t want to be there.
As she reached the door of the venue, she felt a hand on her shoulder.
‘Beth, wait!’
She spun around. Mikey was behind her.
‘Let me go, Mikey, please.’
‘I’m sorry, I thought you wanted to. I didn’t mean to offend you.’
Beth stepped out into the evening air and shivered. She pulled her jacket from around her waist and slipped it onto her goosebump-covered arms. Mikey followed.
‘You didn’t offend me. It’s not your fault.’
‘Then what’s wrong? I don’t understand.’
‘You’re married. I’m married.’
He shrugged. ‘We’re both adults.’
‘No. I don’t do… this!’ Beth gestured with both hands towards Mikey. ‘I should never have come here with you tonight. I had a shitty day, and I didn’t want to be alone. I apologise for leading you on. It was unfair of me.’
Mikey reached his hand out, placing it on Beth’s shoulder.
‘It’s cool. Don’t worry.’ He squeezed gently. ‘I get it.’
‘Listen, you go back inside. No point you missing the gig because of me. I’ll walk into town and grab a taxi.’