by Janet Preece
William moved quickly to kick the article out of sight, helping Julie up and steering her towards the door – but it was too late. Her body stumbling along, faltered and her knees buckled, she’d seen it. He released his grip as she vomited onto the floor, sending her crashing into the doorframe, a look of disgust as he receded back into his bedroom, cursing.
‘Are you okay? Can I get you anything?’ William came running up, mop and bucket in hand.
‘Just leave me, please. I want to be on my own.’
He hesitated, just for a second, then obliged and ran off, relinquishing the cleaning stuff for his mum to sort out her own mess. She took it unconsciously and began to clean, thoughts flowing freely with each repetitive motion.
That was when the tears started to fall – for Amrita, for Rachel, for herself. Adrenaline rushed through Julie as she felt the fog lifting, her thoughts lining up in order, making sense but no sense. Memories came crashing back: Amrita, all that anger, the release. She’d enjoyed it. She was a monster! She had attacked an innocent woman and left her for dead. That poor woman. It was all starting to make sense. This explained why she had walked out on her family, fled the punishment that was out there waiting for her.
Her thoughts shifted to Rachel, her beautiful friend. Had she tried to help her go into hiding? Had they been in contact all the time she was away? Why had she met up with her at the storage unit? All that effort to recall her memories; all those months of praying, desperate for a lucid dream, and now, there was no putting them back in the box. Poor, poor Rachel. She recalled leaving her at the unit, something about it being a hideout but not why Rachel wanted to be there. Was Julie supposed to bring food and drink to help her? Then the crash, a tragic twist to their friendship, a life ruined through error, fate nothing but a memory time-lapse.
She wished she hadn’t recognised that jewellery.
What had Rachel done to deserve such a terrifying end? Julie wracked her brain, desperately clawing for an explanation, nothing more came. She was exhausted and collapsed onto her bed a broken woman. Should she tell Dan about Rachel or go straight to the police, tell them she knew the deceased; she was her friend? Should she own up to her involvement in Amrita’s death?
She waited anxiously for Dan’s return, thinking about Rachel, what she’d done to her innocent friend – left her there to die. She would do anything to go back to the innocence of yesterday. If only she hadn’t gone into Jack’s room. What other secrets were hiding in the house waiting for her to rediscover memories? Was there even worse to come?
She was a murderer.
Did the children know? That thought was even more horrific – that she had taken her children’s innocence through her insane actions. Was that why she’d left, to protect them? It was all too little, too late.
Why would Jack keep the cuttings – unless he knew?
Chapter Thirty-Two
Distant, familiar sounds: keys in a lock, footsteps in the hall, in her house. Dan shouting, running up the stairs.
‘Julie! Are you okay? I came as soon as I heard!’ He burst into the bedroom where she was curled up like a foetus – still, unmoving, staring with bloodshot eyes and a pale face, her hair matted with dried blood. ‘Oh, Julie!’
She tried so hard but just couldn’t do it, couldn’t keep it from him. He was her love; he would comfort her for the loss of her friend.
‘Dan, I need to tell you something.’
He looked at her expectantly, almost nervous.
‘The woman in the paper…is Rachel. We were friends. I know what happened.’
She watched the blood drain from his cheeks, his smile still staining his face like a demonic painted blemish burnt onto his skin in contrast with his thoughts and words. He opened his mouth and closed it again, repeatedly scrunching his eyes tightly, straining till the veins bulged and pulsated in his forehead.
She felt sorry for him as he tried so hard to spare her feelings, to protect her. The room was silent, their eyes fixed, neither speaking. Then, finally Dan bent over, crouching.
‘I’m so sorry, Julie. I should have told you before. I didn’t love her like I love you. She was just sort of there, and you weren’t, back then…before.’
What was he saying…? She felt her mouth open, her breath catch as she stared at him, his words making no sense, his body crumpled as he laid out the bare bones of – an affair? His affair? Words kept tumbling out of his mouth, not registering: ‘mistake’, ‘love’, ‘Rachel’.
Her Dan…and Rachel?
How could he? With her best friend, right under her nose! His admission of guilt, the details of their relationship, how it had all been a huge mistake – the words kept coming as she tried to tune out.
It’s a mistake, it’s not real, you’re dreaming, this isn’t happening. Wake up Julie!
‘I haven’t seen her since your accident. Honestly, Julie, you have to believe me. That was the point I realised it was you I really loved, the thought of losing you forever…’
‘You…and Rachel?’ The words caught in her throat, giving him the chance to continue his excuses, his lies, it meant nothing.
‘I can’t believe she’s dead and how she died. I just can’t bear to think about it. Such a nightmare. I need to tell the police, to identify her. Nobody’s come forward. I would have before, but as you didn’t remember her, I didn’t want to put you through finding her and then losing her all over again. It just didn’t seem fair on you. But now you’ve remembered…how long have you known about the affair? Did you know before the accident?’
Julie’s face drained as she stood listening. She had been ready to bare her soul, explain her guilt – how she had locked her friend up and left her there, never meant for her to die. She’d wanted to share the agony of her loss, talk through her confusion, hadn’t expected Dan’s response. He’d been having an affair with Rachel! She’d been blindsided by the loss of her friend, had passed out before recalling rhyme or reason.
Their affair. Everything was becoming clear. Julie had left her there, the Slut. She remembered. If she hadn’t had that accident, Rachel would have really known suffering, she would have made sure of it.
They had ruined her life, made her not want to live.
It was slowly coming back. She hadn’t just left her there, locked her in by accident; she had planned Rachel’s torture. Planned revenge. Contemplated murder. So, that was the kind of person she was. That was why the memory of Amrita’s death had brought a smile to her lips. She was a cold-blooded killer. She flicked her tongue around her teeth, thinking about her new persona, it felt right.
Her voice altered, filled with venom as she spat out her questions with renewed vigour. She couldn’t remember the specifics, wasn’t listening as he pleaded forgiveness, his answers drowned out by the sound of rats scurrying, scratching…
‘How long was it going on?’
‘It’s not important anymore. She’s gone.’ Dan paused, a broken man. He’d started to cry again. This was becoming a common occurrence that wouldn’t be tolerated. He’d loved Rachel. So what.
She remembered everything. He wasn’t entitled to grieve, he needed to take responsibility and pay the price. All that jewellery, the lists of receipts on their joint account, the pure front of it all!
He took her silence for probing and spoke again. ‘Three years. Julie, I’m so sorry. It meant nothing. I just didn’t realise how much I loved you. Life just kind of…got in the way.’
Shut up, shut up, shut up! she screamed internally, channelling the anger, feeling like a woman possessed – but he kept going.
‘I was so worried, after everything you’ve been through. I’m so proud of how far you’ve come. The affair – it was all so long ago, like a different lifetime.’ He pleaded with her, reached out, tried to bring her back to him, but she pulled away, turned her back on him and their life.
�
�Get out.’ Her instruction: simple, clear, precise.
As he left the room deflated, she closed the door firmly behind him and started to think about what to do next. It might all be old news to him, but to her, it was a fresh bleed; a wound she didn’t realise was there, prized wide open. She lay in bed, tossing and turning, the television blaring something, unsuccessfully trying to distract her from her thoughts.
The front door slammed, and their car started up outside.
How dare he act like the injured party. At least he had the sense to leave.
It was a long time coming, but finally, amongst the noise, intermittent screen changes and too many pillow turns, came the sweet release of sleep – but with it, the nightmares of her reality.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Julie awoke to the sound of footsteps, anger coursing through her. She refused to live in fear any longer. The door opened, and Dan climbed into bed. She was stunned he had the nerve. Those creeping hands mauling at her when they’d been all over Rachel. His touch was like a knife cutting into her skin, mumbled apologies as if words would ever be enough.
‘Stop!’
She jumped out of bed and ran from the room, felt her way through the dark to the bathroom and locked the door behind her, leaning over the sink.
‘Amrita, where are you now?’
She surfed her phone for Rachel, her Facebook profile – clear, beautiful images, her wallpaper changed to a dove flying away. Dan had told the police; people knew. She scrolled through Rachel’s photos, pausing on that green dress. Disgust brought with it the taste of bile. He deserved everything coming to him. She unlocked the door and crept out to check on her boys, lingering long enough to kiss them goodbye.
She could never forgive Dan. He would be punished in a way she’d never been able to punish Rachel. She’d been robbed of that satisfaction. So what if the bitch was dead. Julie hadn’t been able to confront her, to hear her plead, enjoy her suffering.
Lucky rats.
She went back into the bathroom, her sanctuary, she used the toilet and flushed it to see if it would wake the kids – nope, nothing would wake them up that night. She turned on the taps to wash her hands and recalled Shakespeare’s scene, Lady Macbeth trying to wash away her guilt. Julie could see no spots on her own hands, but still, she continued, glancing up at the mirror once more.
Had she deserved this life? Was it the one she was supposed to live, or had she made the wrong choices? Her wild hair hung smooth at the sides of her face, but there was something more. Brunette blending with blonde, brown eyes and blue, the perfect blackberry pout combining with her own chapped lips.
Rachel...
She’d come. She wasn’t smiling, only staring through hurt eyes – sad, lonely, abandoned, knowing. Julie wasn’t scared. She held her phone to her lips and breathed, ‘Help me,’ and cut the call. She was ready.
‘Dan,’ she whispered, ‘Please come.’
He didn’t respond, so she tried a little louder, playing the vulnerable innocent, calling for him.
‘Dan, I need you!’
A slight pause, then his response.
‘Julie, are you OK?’
She let his words hang in the air without a response, wondering what was going through his mind, wondering if things would work out, and eventually she heard movement.
‘I’m coming,’ he said, irritation in his voice.
He had no doubt been sleeping peacefully, oblivious to her suffering – how dare he! She heard him thud out of bed, and in the time it took for him to cross the landing, she let out a scream loud enough to wake the neighbours, at the same time smashing the mirror repeatedly with the hand soap, fracturing Rachel’s image into deadly pieces.
Dan stood in the doorway horrified, staring at the crazy scene in front of him, his gasp the only noise breaking the ringing silence of the aftermath. The kids were blissfully unaware. All those nights tiptoeing over creaking floorboards, trying not to wake them… Julie stood motionless, gripping a shard of the mirror, staring wild through the dark as it cut into the warm flesh of her hand, blood drip-dripping onto the floor. She smiled manically, knowing he’d be cleaning up the mess this time. His mess.
‘Julie! What have you done?’
She continued to stare, holding the shard in front of her, pointing it at Dan. ‘You did this. You ruined us. You destroyed me.’
‘People have affairs, Julie. I’ve told you, I’m sorry. It’s over. What more can I do?’
‘You killed Rachel.’
‘No, Julie. I promise you, I didn’t. Put that down – you’re hurting yourself.’
‘It’s all your fault. You put her in that storage unit. You left her there to die. It’s because of you she was in there.’
‘Julie, it was just a terrible accident.’
‘Oh, no, Dan, it was very much planned, and she deserved everything she got.’ Her grip was like a vice; she could feel the power, wielded the sharp edge as the pain enlivened her senses.
‘What? Julie, you’re not making any sense. Please, put that down. We need to talk. You need help.’
‘She’s lucky the rats got to her before I had a chance to go back and finish her off.’
‘Julie, what? What are you saying?’
‘You’re going to suffer for this.’
He stared back at her gormlessly, not a wisp of recognition, not listening to her, never really listening.
‘It was an accident, nobody’s fault. Julie, please, put that down,’ he said, gesturing towards the shard as she brandished it in front of her, aiming it at his exposed chest.
‘I killed her. I locked her up.’
‘What? What do you mean?’
‘I knew about you, Dan. Both of you.’ She stepped forward with a jabbing action, catching Dan off-guard. He side-stepped and disarmed her, taking the sharp weapon from her hand.
She let him.
The sound of sirens filled the air. Julie reached forwards once more, clasped both her hands over his and forcefully pulled them with all her strength, letting the weapon plunged deep into her chest, ending her suffering.
◆ ◆ ◆
Dan screamed, scrambling on top of Julie as her body slipped through his blood-stained hands. Panic, shock, fear as he grabbed for towels, the rug – anything to stem the bleeding. Her face was pale and it shone in the dark, blood bubbling out of her lips as she tried to speak.
‘I don’t forgive you.’
The sirens were even louder now, and then there was banging at the front door, knocking, pounding as the door came in and the cavalry arrived.
‘I warned the police,’ she gasped, blood gurgling in her throat, drowning out her words. ‘You did this.’ She smiled, her blood-red teeth a vicious snarl.
Looking up at his reflection, Dan saw himself, a shattered image of the man he thought he was and a glimmer of something more. Someone in a green dress.
‘Rachel?’ he stammered in horrified confusion., ‘Julie?’
A loud crash, and the sound of boots running, entering the house, shouts of, ‘Clear!’ and warnings of, ‘Police! Put down your weapon!’
Dan looked down at his hands, her blood. What else would the police see? A fearful 999 call, a bloodied weapon covered in his prints, his wife in a pool of blood on the floor – and evidence of his affair with Rachel, which he’d told the authorities about only earlier that day. He had taken responsibility for his infidelity to help identify her. It hadn’t entered his mind he might be linked to her death; implicated in her murder. But if he could kill his wife…
Dan was flung against the wall, pinned and cuffed, before being led with force from the room and downstairs. He could hear them discussing plans for social services to take the children into custody, to lead them out of the house without showing them the crime scene. He watched, gasping, as they were carried out, one by one,
still as death.
‘No! Dear God, please, no.’
What had she done?
‘Suspect detained…’
‘IC1… Female, around 40 years old… Looks critical…’
The officer spat in disgust as he looked over at Dan and spoke into the radio:
‘Three kids unresponsive, looks like they were drugged.’
◆ ◆ ◆
Biography
Janet Preece
Janet is bursting onto the scene with this thrilling ride of women’s enlightenment. An obsessive follower of psychological thrillers and the quest for a one-sitting read, drove her to create debut novel Occupied. She has an eye for detail and knows how to spin an inescapable web of intrigue to suit her audience.
In her novels, the characters are uncomfortably real. The life of a so-called housewife is never enough for the wider community who consistently push to pigeonhole her into a traditional career pocket they can understand. Janet is fascinated by the fight that woman have to put up in order to stay home with their families, just to then defend their Cinderella lifestyle and the struggle to be appreciated.
Occupied voices the unspoken word, the struggle of mothers, wives and how they lose their sense of self to focus on their families with Janet shouting the questions that society taboos, what if women give up? What if they leave their families and refuse this treatment? What if they retaliate against the acceptable and take revenge and punishment quite literally, not caring what people think.
Living with her husband, three children and two oversized cats, Janet is most often seen dressed as a witch or a super-hero living by the mentality that life’s a game and it’s time to play.