The Stranger in My Bed: An utterly gripping psychological thriller

by Karen King

  ‘Is it near a school?’ she asked. ‘I don’t want to have to travel too far with Molly and Max. And I’ll have to look for another job.’ She’d wanted to stay in the area but she knew that Phil was right: it would be impossible to remain here – the fallout from them running off together would be huge. It was best to put some distance between them and Freya and Mark.

  ‘School?’ Phil rolled away, edged himself up on his elbow, looking puzzled. ‘What do you mean? I figured you’d leave the twins with Mark and they would come to stay in the holidays now and again.’

  Now it was her turn to be puzzled. ‘Of course they’re coming with me, Phil. I thought that it was what you wanted too. You said that you always wanted a family. That Freya didn’t want children…’

  ‘Yes, I do want children. Our children. I don’t want to bring up someone else’s bloody kids, Daisy. I’ve done that once! I want my own child.’

  She sat up, horrified. ‘You can’t seriously expect me to leave my children!’

  ‘It’s me or them,’ he said and she knew that he meant it. Hurt and angry, she got out of bed, pulled on her clothes and drove home. She’d hoped Phil would phone her, tell her he was sorry and hadn’t meant it. But she didn’t hear from him again. That was it, they were over.

  Now, she was ashamed that she had planned to run away with Phil and take the twins from Mark – who was so kind and supportive – to be with someone so manipulative and abusive as Phil.

  ‘Are you all right, love? You’re not still upset about being pregnant, are you?’ Mark wrapped his arm around her waist and nuzzled into her neck.

  The love in his action made her feel worse and the tears that she’d been holding back spilt down her cheeks. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Hey, don’t cry.’ He wrapped her in his arms – strong, comforting arms that she should never have turned away from – and held her tight. ‘We’ll manage, I promise. Molly and Max are old enough to help a bit now, and your mum will be delighted to have another little one to fuss over. It’ll be fine.’

  How can it be fine when I don’t even know if you’re the father? Daisy thought as she sobbed on his shoulder. Her pregnancy with the twins had been so difficult, and she had been exhausted for the first eighteen months of their lives. She didn’t want to be pregnant again, go through all that, lose control of her body, her life, her sleep. And she definitely didn’t want to be pregnant by her sister’s husband, a man who had ditched her so callously and didn’t even remember their affair.

  She had to pull herself together, get her head straight, think what to do. ‘I’m okay, it’s just such a shock.’ She wiped her eyes and smiled wanly up at Mark. ‘I felt like we were finally getting our lives back together and now this.’

  ‘I know, it’s a shock for me too, but we’ll be fine. Me and you, we’ll always be fine.’

  As she nestled her head on Mark’s shoulder, Daisy felt overwhelmed with guilt. She’d never set out to have an affair with Phil. Yes, he was sexy and charming, but she loved Mark. She had never even thought of cheating on him. Then Phil had started confiding in her a little, telling her how Freya treated him, saying he didn’t know where to turn… They’d started meeting for coffee, she’d tried to support him and one thing had led to another. Phil was a fantastic, adventurous lover, whereas she and Mark were first lovers, childhood sweethearts, had never dated anyone else never mind gone to bed with them. Phil had swept her off her feet and she regretted it so much. She had given up so much for him. And now she might be having his baby.

  ‘I should go back to work now, love. Will you be okay? I could try and get cover if you need me here.’

  He couldn’t do that, he’d only just got promoted. Besides, she needed time on her own before she had to collect the twins, time to think.

  ‘I’ll be fine. You go to work and we’ll talk more tonight.’ She kissed him and he smiled down at her, eyes full of love, his hand gently caressing her cheek.

  ‘Just remember that I’ll always be here for you and together we can cope with anything.’

  What had she done? If Mark ever found out, it would destroy him.

  He won’t find out, she thought determinedly. If Phil really had remembered it, she would simply deny it.

  She closed her eyes, trying not to remember how much she had loved Phil. It was just infatuation, she told herself. She had to forget about him.

  35

  Freya

  Friday

  Daisy had messaged her back last night saying she couldn’t talk right now, the twins were being a handful, but she could meet her for lunch Friday as she had to go into town to get some shopping after work. Freya couldn’t wait to see her, to talk to someone about what had being happening. Nadia was becoming a good friend, who she knew would listen to her, but she wanted to keep this out of work, and Daisy had been so supportive when Phil had been in hospital, she was the only one Freya felt she could confide in. The morning at work went quickly, and at one o’clock sharp she grabbed her bag.

  ‘You off out for lunch?’ Nadia asked, getting up too. ‘Fancy keeping me company?’

  ‘Oh, Nadia, normally I would love to but I’m meeting Daisy – she’s shopping in town. Can we do lunch on Monday?’

  ‘Sure we can, hun. I miss our chats now you only come in twice a week, but I know you’ve got that hunky husband of yours to look after.’

  A husband who someone tried to kill and could be suffering from more trauma than we first realised, Freya thought. A husband who has been like a stranger to me since the accident. She didn’t want to tell Nadia about that, though, scared things might get back to Stefan and he would think she needed to take more time off. Her work was keeping her sane at the moment, giving her a few hours’ break from tiptoeing around Phil. She’d thought that she would have the upper hand when Phil came out of hospital but instead she felt like she was walking on eggshells; his moods were so up and down. What do you expect after what he’s gone through? Phil had nearly died – watching her words and trying not to upset him wasn’t that much of a big deal in the circumstances, was it?

  Daisy was waiting for her when she walked into the café, sitting at a table with what looked like a herbal tea.

  ‘What, no latte?’ Freya asked in surprise. ‘Are you still feeling sick?’

  ‘Yes. It’s more of an all-day queasiness than morning sickness. I’m hoping this peppermint tea will ease it,’ Daisy replied.

  ‘You do look a bit peaky,’ Freya said, noticing her sister’s pale face and dark-rimmed eyes. ‘Do you want a muffin?’

  Daisy shook her head. ‘No, thanks, I’m good with this.’

  Daisy really looked off-colour, Freya thought as she went up to the counter to get herself a cappuccino and a sandwich. She was worried about her sister. She’d looked tired and strained at the hospital too. This pregnancy was clearly taking its toll on her both mentally and physically.

  ‘How are things now, Daisy?’ she asked as she sat down at the table with her lunch. ‘I feel awful I’ve been leaning on you so much the past couple of weeks and you have so much on your plate.’ She leant over and squeezed her sister’s hand. ‘Are you still worried about the pregnancy?’

  Daisy sniffed and nodded her head. ‘It’s just not what I need right now.’ She forced a bright smile. ‘Take no notice of me. I’ll adjust, and we’ll cope. It’s a shock, that’s all.’ She picked up her cup. ‘Now that’s enough about me. What did you want to talk to me about?’

  As Daisy sipped her peppermint tea, Freya told her about the police’s visit. ‘They said that the brakes of Phil’s car were tampered with.’

  Daisy’s eyes widened. ‘You’re kidding! Are they absolutely sure?’

  ‘Apparently the insurance assessors said there’s no doubt at all.’ She ran her finger around the rim of her cup. ‘We both use that car. Someone wanted to injure, maybe kill, one of us.’ She bit her bottom lip and glanced up at her sister. ‘I’m scared, Daisy. Phil could have died. And the person responsible for
tampering with the brakes is still out there.’

  ‘No wonder you’re scared! This is awful. Be careful, Frey.’

  Freya kneaded the side of her neck. ‘And weird things have been happening too.’

  ‘What sort of things?’

  She told Daisy about coming downstairs a couple of mornings to find the back door open. ‘I was thinking it was Phil, that he’d been sleepwalking. He thought so too, but yesterday he went for a walk and I was working upstairs. I didn’t go downstairs at all. But when Phil came back he yelled for me to come down – and the kitchen was flooded out. Someone had put the plug in the sink and left the tap running. And it wasn’t me.’

  Daisy frowned. ‘So you think someone sneaked into your house and did it while you were upstairs? And that they’ve been breaking into your house in the middle of the night? Who would do that? And surely there would be signs of a break-in?’

  ‘That’s the thing, there’s no sign of forced entry and nothing’s been taken, so Phil thinks it’s pointless telling the police. But now, after yesterday, I don’t know if someone is trying to terrorise us, or if Phil has more severe brain trauma than we realised and he’s doing things and forgetting…’ A tremble ran through her.

  She saw a flicker of something in Daisy’s eyes but before she could put her finger on what it was, it had gone. Daisy leant forward. ‘I think you’re right and it has to be Phil. Maybe it is to do with his accident.’ She paused, her expression serious. ‘Or he’s doing it on purpose to frighten you. Either way you need to be careful, Freya. He could be dangerous.’

  36

  Daisy’s words played on Freya’s mind for the rest of the day. Could Phil be doing all this to frighten her? Why? What would be the point? She felt more than a bit nervous about going home, wondering what might have happened in her absence and what mood she would find Phil in.

  She opened the front door with trepidation. She could hear music playing in the kitchen and the smell of bolognaise wafting along the hall. Phil came out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on his apron, and gave her a kiss on the cheek. ‘How’s your day been?’

  ‘Busy,’ she said. ‘It seems like you’ve been busy too. I take it we’re having spaghetti bolognaise?’ It had always been Phil’s signature dish.

  ‘Yes, with garlic bread. I haven’t forgotten how to cook, thank goodness. It’ll be ready in ten minutes. Does that give you time to freshen up?’

  ‘It does.’ She breathed out a silent sigh of relief that he was looking happier. ‘You’ve cheered up.’

  ‘I figured that losing two years of my memory isn’t that big a deal, is it? I can still remember us and how much we love each other. That’s what’s important.’ He grinned at her. ‘Glass of wine? Merlot or Pinot?’

  ‘Yes, please. Merlot. I’ll be down in five,’ she promised, heading for the stairs so she could freshen up, feeling a lot lighter herself. She was silly to dwell on Daisy’s words. Of course Phil wasn’t playing tricks on her, and as for him being forgetful, it was just a blip, that’s all. She had to expect him to have some confusion after such a terrible accident.

  What about the brakes of Phil’s car, though? That wasn’t Phil being forgetful.

  Forget about it for now, just enjoy the evening. She changed her top, brushed her hair and quickly patted a bit more powder on her face. She was determined that they were going to have a pleasant, relaxing evening and forget everything else.

  ‘Perfect timing.’ Phil glanced up as he put a basket of garlic bread down on the table and smiled. ‘You look beautiful.’

  ‘Thank you.’ She glanced at the immaculately laid table – napkins, glasses of wine – her gaze resting on the vase of orange, cream and white roses standing in pride of place in the middle. She swallowed, remembering the last bunch of roses Phil had bought her, the night of the accident.

  ‘See, I remember the important things,’ he said, following her gaze. ‘I do still buy you a mixed bunch of roses like that, don’t I?’

  ‘Yes.’ She wouldn’t think of that evening. This was going to be a fresh start for them. Phil had changed. ‘They’re gorgeous. Thank you.’ She paused, not wanting to spoil the moment but a little anxious. ‘Are you all right drinking wine, Phil? What about the painkillers?’

  ‘I’m hardly taking any now, my ribs are a lot better,’ he assured her, pulling out her chair. ‘If madam would care to sit down, I’ll serve up the starter.’

  ‘I could get used to this,’ she said lightly as she lowered herself into her seat.

  ‘I want you to. I want to spoil you. These past couple of weeks must have been so hard for you. And I know I can get a bit edgy because I can’t remember things but I’m not going to let it get to me and ruin things for us.’ He poured her a glass of wine, then one for himself. He picked it up and held it out. ‘To the future.’

  ‘To the future,’ she repeated, clinking glasses with him. Phil was right: the past was gone, and all that mattered was that they move on, build a good future together. And other than the moment with her phone and his mum’s Facebook message, there had barely been a cross word between them. Phil’s accident had been horrifying, but it seemed to have made him a better man. She’d done the right thing giving him another chance. Thinking about Aileen reminded her that she’d not received a reply to the message she’d sent her on Wednesday. Maybe Aileen had changed her mind about meeting up, after all.

  It was a lovely evening. They chatted easily. Phil told her how he’d been going through his contacts, trying to get up to date with where he was with his work. ‘I’ve had another article accepted by the Climate Changer, you know. I found the email in my inbox. I can’t believe it!’

  ‘Oh, Phil, that’s marvellous,’ she replied, raising her glass. ‘Congratulations.’

  ‘Thanks. I must say I’m really pleased.’ He took a sip of his wine. ‘Now, tell me about your day.’

  It was so good to be sitting chatting like this – it was how they used to be when they were dating and in the early days of their marriage. Freya told Phil about the project that she was working on and he seemed really interested, asking lots of questions. ‘And Daisy phoned me for a catch-up so I met her for lunch,’ she added. Phil’s expression tightened, his eyes darkened and he visibly tensed. It shook her for a minute. Surely he wasn’t angry that she’d had lunch with her sister. ‘She wanted to talk, Phil, and she was so supportive while you were in hospital,’ she said quickly.

  He took a sip of his wine and seemed to be considering his words. ‘And how is she? Did she want to talk to you about anything in particular?’

  ‘She looks tired, exhausted… I think she simply wanted someone to offload to. She’s recently discovered that she’s pregnant and is still a bit shocked about it.’

  Phil’s wine glass crashed to the floor.

  37

  Phil

  The crashing of glass jolted Phil out of his daze. He jumped up out of his seat, his eyes resting on the red pool of wine spilling over the oak floorboards. He knew he should get a cloth, mop it up, but he couldn’t move. Freya’s words were spinning round and round in his mind. Daisy was pregnant. And she’d phoned Freya because she’d wanted to speak to her. Was that why Daisy had come to see him on Monday? She’d acted so strange, asking him if he had got his memory back, said they’d had an affair, warning him that she was keeping an eye on him. Was the baby his? Is that what she had come to tell him? Is that why she had got so angry when he couldn’t remember anything from the past two years?

  ‘It’s okay, I’ve got it.’ Freya was on her knees, soaking the wine with a soft, dry cloth.

  Phil watched as she sprayed some furniture polish on the cloth and rubbed it into the wood.

  ‘There.’ She leant back on her ankles, triumphantly pointing to the floorboards, which looked – thank goodness – stain-free. ‘Providing you soak up the wine straight away, it doesn’t usually stain.’

  ‘I’m sorry, I’m not sure how that happened – one minute I was holding the g
lass and the next…’

  ‘It’s okay. Don’t worry.’ Freya got to her feet and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. ‘No harm done. It’s not the first time wine has been spilt on the floor.’

  He wanted to ask whether the other times had been an accident or if a glass had been thrown down in an argument, like the vase. He wanted to ask her just how volatile their marriage had been, to question her and find out if he really was the instigator of the rows, or if it was Freya. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. He daren’t voice the questions that were fighting for space in his head because he was scared to know the answers.

  Freya put the polish and cloth back in the kitchen and returned to her seat with another wine glass, which she put on the table in front of Phil. ‘Want a refill?’

  Refill? He felt like drinking the whole bloody bottle. He was shocked to hear that Daisy was pregnant and horrified that the baby might be his. He could feel his head aching with the strain of it all.

  ‘Are you all right, Phil? You’re looking a bit pale. Is it the wine, do you think?’ Freya asked gently.

  ‘Maybe it is. Perhaps you were right and I shouldn’t have drunk any.’ He rubbed the back of his neck. ‘I’m so sorry. I really wanted this evening to be special, to celebrate with you, but now I’ve ruined things.’

  ‘Of course you haven’t. It’s been a lovely meal, but maybe you should have an early night? I bet you’ve been overdoing it today while I’ve been at work.’

  ‘Yes, I will. I’ll go on up now. You won’t be long, will you?’

  ‘No, I’ll clear this away and load the dishwasher then I’ll be with you.’

  ‘I’m sorry to leave you with this mess.’ Phil indicated the dirty dishes on the table. ‘I’ve come over really tired and weak.’