The Stranger in My Bed: An utterly gripping psychological thriller

by Karen King

  ‘Really? Like what?’ It was as if he was a stranger. So cold and distant. He was looking at her as if he hated her. Memories of other times he had looked at her like this flashed into her head and she fought back the panic that was welling inside her at the fear that he hadn’t changed after all.

  ‘Like who tampered with the brakes of your car? Who has been breaking into our house and leaving you threatening notes? Someone has a grudge against you, Phil, and we need to find out who and why.’

  He got up slowly and the expression on his face sent a snake of fear down her spine. ‘Well, let’s see. Who has the most to gain if something happens to me?’

  Freya stared at him, dumbstruck. What was he getting at?

  ‘Let me tell you, shall I?’ He held up the sheets of paper. ‘You have. I’ve found my insurance papers and it seems that you will get a lot of money if I die. Thousands. You’ll be very rich.’

  She could hardly believe what she was hearing. He was actually suggesting that she had tried to kill him so she could get his insurance money. He couldn’t really believe that. ‘For goodness’ sake, Phil, why would I want to kill you? I love you.’

  ‘So you say, but you weren’t very loving at the hospital, were you?’

  ‘I told you, we had just had a big argument. You stormed out. I was packing a bag when the police called to say you were in an accident.’ She licked her lips. ‘You scared me, Phil. You smashed the vase of flowers up the wall and I thought you were going to hit me. Again. And you’re scaring me now,’ she added, wrapping her arms around her shoulders to try to stop the trembling. And it was true, he was scaring her. Make that terrifying her. Her instincts were all telling her to turn and run, to get out while she still had the chance.

  She was just about to do that when suddenly Phil slumped into the chair, his head in his hands. ‘I’m sorry, Freya. I’m so sorry. I just can’t think straight at the moment. It’s so hard not being able to remember.’

  She gazed at him, wondering what to do. He raised his head and looked imploringly at her. ‘Please don’t leave me, Freya. You’re all I’ve got. I can’t live without you.’

  Maybe it was the brain trauma making him act like this. Was she being unfair? ‘It’s okay.’ She went to him and put her arms around his shoulders, holding him close as he sobbed, sympathy replacing her fear.

  Finally, he calmed down and wiped his eyes. ‘God, I’m so sorry. What a bloody wimp you must think I am, bawling like that. My head is all over the place. I can’t remember anything. You said I booked a holiday but I can’t find any details of the bookings. I don’t know why anyone has got a grudge against me. And when I found this insurance proposal I remembered what Daisy had said and thought it was you.’

  ‘What?’ Freya said, astonished. ‘What do you mean? What did Daisy say?’

  ‘She came to see me when you went to work last week, asked me if I could remember anything and I said I couldn’t.’ He held Freya’s hand, gazing earnestly into her eyes. ‘Then she told me to be careful and I sort of got the impression that she was warning me about something. So when I found this insurance policy I thought maybe she was saying I should be careful of you. I’m so sorry, Freya. I don’t know how I could think such a dreadful thing. Please forgive me.’

  His words were like a blow to her stomach. Phil hadn’t mentioned that Daisy had been around, and Daisy hadn’t mentioned it either. Surely Daisy wouldn’t suggest that Freya would harm Phil. Why would she? It didn’t make sense.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me about this?’

  ‘Daisy begged me not to. She didn’t want you to know she’d been to see me. She made it sound as if I was in some sort of danger.’

  She stood up. ‘I’m going to phone Daisy and find out what’s going on.’

  Phil grabbed her hand. ‘No, please don’t. I must have got it mixed up. I do get confused since the accident, you know I do. I don’t want to cause trouble between you and your sister.’

  Freya hesitated. It didn’t sound like Daisy to say stuff like that to Phil. But then it was strange that she had come to visit him when she knew Freya was at work. She thought back to how she’d confided in Daisy that Phil had been abusive to her. Had her sister been so worried that she’d visited Phil to warn him to be careful how he treated Freya, but Phil had misunderstood? Maybe Daisy had thought it best not to tell Freya about her visit, thinking that she would be annoyed.

  ‘Don’t look so worried.’ Phil squeezed her hand. ‘I’m sure I got it wrong. I think Daisy just came to check on me, knowing you were at work, and was warning me not to overdo things. I got a bit muddled.’ He put his hand to his forehead. ‘It’s all so foggy in here sometimes. I feel like I’m wading through cotton wool trying to find a memory I can cling to.’

  Freya hesitated, trying to decide if Phil was playing her so she wouldn’t leave him or if the accident was really to blame for his mood swings.

  ‘Can we please forget all about it. I was just being silly.’

  ‘Forgotten already,’ Freya told him, knowing it was best to play along and keep the peace. But she couldn’t help feeling uneasy. She didn’t like how Phil had accused her of trying to kill him for the insurance money. Someone had to have put that thought in his head. Surely it wasn’t Daisy, though?

  54

  Friday

  ‘Please don’t go into work today. I don’t feel well,’ Phil begged as Freya got up to shower the next morning.

  He did look a bit pale and they had both had yet another restless night. Phil’s actions yesterday, accusing her of causing his accident so she could get his insurance money, had chilled her to the core, and even though he had apologised, Freya felt nervous around him. She wanted to get out of the house, and was desperate to see Daisy and find out exactly what she’d said to Phil, and confide in her sister her fears about how Phil was acting.

  ‘I’ve got such a lot of work to do in the office, Phil, I could really do with going in.’ She hesitated. ‘Is it your ribs? Are they hurting you?’

  Phil struggled to sit up in bed, his face twisting in pain. ‘They are a bit sore but mainly it’s my head. It’s thumping so much and I feel dizzy. I don’t want to be left on my own in case I pass out.’ He sighed and smiled wanly. ‘If you really need to go to work, I guess I can manage. I’ll make sure I sit down as much as I can and that I keep my phone on me in case I feel faint.’

  She couldn’t go into work if he felt that bad; she’d have to work from home. Meeting Daisy would have to wait. ‘It’s okay, I’ll phone in and explain. Stefan won’t mind me working from home,’ she said.

  ‘Thank you, I really appreciate it.’ He lay back down again. ‘I feel so tired. Do you mind if I rest up a bit?’

  ‘Of course not. I’ll phone work now and then get a bit done while you’re having a rest. And I’ll check in on you in an hour to see how you are.’

  Stefan was understanding, as she’d expected. ‘No problem, Freya, work at home for as long as you need, and if you need to take some of your holiday, then do. Nadia can take over from you,’ Stefan told her. ‘Phil’s health has to come first.’

  She was lucky to have such an understanding boss, and that her work could be done remotely, Freya thought as she ended the call. She had to admit that she was worried about Phil this morning. He had seemed genuinely desperate not to be left alone. He’s had a major accident and lost part of his memory, she reminded herself. That must make him feel vulnerable. Plus someone was out to get one of them, she reminded herself as she went down to make a cup of coffee.

  The letterbox flapped as the postman shoved a letter through. She picked it up, glancing at the envelope. A credit card statement for Phil. She frowned when she saw the company name; this wasn’t from his usual credit card company. He must have applied for a new card. Maybe he’d used this to book the holiday and that was why he hadn’t found any record of it, because he’d forgotten that he had this new card. She never opened Phil’s mail but this could solve the mystery of the missi
ng holiday details, so she carefully slit open the envelope and scanned the list of purchases. There it was, right at the top. A booking with Sunshine Holidays. Thank goodness for that! Phil would be so relieved now he could sort out the insurance claim. Her gaze fell on the previous items: a meal at a very expensive restaurant, a trip to the cinema… neither occasion had been with her and must have been during the day when she was working, as Phil rarely went out in the evening. She guessed Phil and Tom might have gone to the cinema to see a film related to the university course they were both tutoring but why hadn’t he mentioned it to Freya? And she didn’t think Phil would pay for him and Tom to dine at an expensive restaurant. Besides, if it was something to do with the university, they would charge it to expenses.

  Her hands shook as she clutched the statement, her mind going back to Phil asking her if he had ever cheated on her. Looking at this, it seemed like he definitely had. Her husband had been taking someone to posh restaurants for lunch, and cinema trips while she was at work. The question was, who was it?

  Then another thought hit her. Had Daisy found out about this? Perhaps she had come round when Freya was at work to warn Phil that if he continued with the affair, she would tell Freya.

  She felt sick. God, how could she have been so stupid as to not see it? And who was the woman he’d been having an affair with? Was he going to meet her the night of the accident when he had stormed out? Yet no one had come to visit him at the hospital or contacted Phil to see how he was. He would have told Freya if someone had, surely, wondering who the woman was.

  Unless he hadn’t really lost his memory, and he had just pretended so that Freya wouldn’t leave him. Perhaps he was still seeing this woman. She could feel the anger rising at how she had been tricked.

  Stop jumping to conclusions, she told herself, but the unease nagged away at her and she decided to see if she could find more evidence. She stood at the bottom of the stairs for a moment to check that there was no sound from Phil then went to his study.

  She knew he would have kept his credit card and bank statements. Phil was very organised about things like that and always had paper copies so he had receipts for things he could claim as expenses. She glanced around then her eyes rested on his silver filing cabinet. They would probably be in there. It was unlocked so she pulled it open; unsurprisingly, everything was filed in alphabetical order. She flicked through: council tax, electric, his usual credit card statement. Of course the new card statements wouldn’t be in here otherwise surely Phil would have found them when he searched his office. He must have put them away somewhere, before his accident, so that she wouldn’t find them. Not that she ever went in his office. She scanned the room, wondering where Phil would hide something like that. Then her gaze rested on the bookshelf over his desk. Still clutching the credit card statement, she pulled out the big dictionary where he’d hidden the letters. A piece of paper fell out.

  She picked it up and opened it. It was a list, in Phil’s handwriting. Her eyes rested on the heading.

  Things I remember—

  ‘What the fucking hell do you think you’re doing, Freya?’

  She swirled around. Phil was standing by the doorway, his face contorted with fury. Freya faced him, her own anger making her brave. How dare he take that tone with her after what she had discovered?

  ‘Give me that!’ he roared, charging over to her and making a grab for the piece of paper in her hand. She swerved, dodged past him and shot out of the room into the hall, running into the kitchen towards the back door. She was getting out of here fast and never coming back. She reached the back door then remembered it was bolted at the top. Shit. She could hear Phil’s footsteps in the hall. She reached up for the bolt, her hands shaking as she yanked it across and pulled open the back door.

  ‘Where the fucking hell do you think you’re going?’ Phil seized her arm and dragged her back inside. A piece of paper fell out of her hand onto the tiled floor.

  Freya winced as pain shot up her arm. ‘Stop it, you’re hurting me!’ she yelled. God, he looked so angry, she was terrified what he would do. Desperate to escape his clutches, she kicked out, her foot hitting him in the shin.

  ‘Ouch! You little bitch!’ He released her arm and she dashed for the door again, but before she could escape through it, he grabbed her, threw her against the wall, his hands around her neck. ‘You’re not going anywhere! You’re not leaving me!’ he snarled.

  His face was contorted with fury, his eyes bulging and his hands were tightening around her throat. Fear snaked up her spine and coursed through every nerve in her body. She couldn’t move; he had her pinned tight against the wall. Bile rose into her throat as she realised she was trapped. She should have got out earlier, when she realised that Phil had always had a temper. She should never have given their marriage another chance. She had to fight him off somehow then get out of here and never come back.

  Phil’s face was so twisted in red rage it was almost unrecognisable. It was as if he had become someone else. Someone who in that moment hated her. Someone who might kill her.

  55

  ‘Get your hands off her, you bloody bully. You’re not beating her up too!’

  Suddenly someone launched themselves at Phil, jumped on his back and started thumping it until he released his hands from Freya’s throat.

  Freya gasped in a lungful of air, her shocked eyes fixed on the attacker’s face. It was a teenage lad. Who was he? She had never seen him before.

  ‘What the fuck!’ Phil wriggled about, elbowing, trying to get the teenager off his back, but the boy was like something possessed, screaming and pummelling away at Phil with his fists. Finally Phil managed to throw him onto the floor and stood over him, breathing heavily. ‘Who the fuck are you and what are you doing in my house?’ he gasped.

  ‘You don’t recognise me, do you, Dad? You’ve forgotten all about the three-year-old son you walked out on after beating up my mum.’ The teenager scrambled to his feet and stood in front of Phil, glaring at him with such hatred, fists clenched by his side. ‘Well, I’ve come to make you pay.’ Every word dripped with venom.

  Dad? Freya caught her breath, her eyes shooting to Phil’s astonished face as he gaped at the lad. He was half-bent over now, his arm across his chest. She guessed the fighting had hurt his not-quite-healed ribs. It served him right.

  ‘Danny?’

  ‘This is your son?’ Freya asked, running her hands around her sore and throbbing neck. Part of her wanted to run out of the back door to safety but another part of her wanted answers. And she felt a lot safer with this teenager here to defend her, especially as it looked like Phil’s ribs were hurting too much to fight both of them off. ‘You said that your wife had cheated on you. That you were devasted when you discovered that the son you adored wasn’t really yours.’ She turned back to the teenager: the dark hair, thick-set eyebrows and nose were definitely Phil’s. ‘Look at him, Phil. He’s so obviously your son!’

  ‘I… told… you… Marianne… had… an… affair…’ Every word was punctuated by a long breath.

  ‘No, she didn’t! It was you who had the affair. I know you’re my dad, we had a DNA test and it proved it.’

  ‘What? When?’ Phil looked stunned.

  ‘A few weeks ago. It was Uncle Graham’s suggestion.’

  ‘Graham!’ Phil nearly exploded at the mention of his hated brother. ‘What the hell has he got to do with this?’

  ‘My mum met him. She’s a store detective and he’s a barrister dealing with a case she’s connected to. They got talking, and when she realised who Uncle Graham was, she told him about you, how you hit her, and wouldn’t believe that you were my father. He said we should do a DNA test and make you pay maintenance. He said that you shouldn’t get away with what you did. Mum wouldn’t hear of it, but I thought he was right,’ Danny shouted at him. ‘So I found out where you lived and watched the house, waited for a chance to get something to test. I saw you drop a cigarette butt in the garden and put it i
n the bag Uncle Graham gave me and we sent it off. We had to send a couple of my hairs too. You’re my dad, all right, but I wish you weren’t. I hate you! I hate what you did to my mum. You’re a bully.’

  ‘You hit your ex-wife too!’ Freya exclaimed, stunned.

  Danny squared up to Phil and pushed back his floppy fringe; his eyes flashed with anger. ‘Yes. He beat my mum up so much we had to run away, go into hiding. He hasn’t seen us for ten years. He’s scum!’

  Freya listened to it all in shock, knowing that Danny was telling the truth. The hurt, the fury were oozing out of him. He had tracked Phil down, left him notes, wanted to scare him – all as revenge for what Phil had done to his mum, Marianne.

  ‘So those are the lies your mum has told you, are they?’ Phil retorted, his breathing regular now, although he was still clutching his ribs. ‘Well, here’s the truth. She provoked me, pushing my buttons, cheating on me. Yes, we had an argument, but—’

  ‘Don’t you call my mum a liar. You’re the liar and a bully!’ Danny yelled at him. ‘Anyway, Mum never spoke about it to me. I think she hoped I’d forgotten because I was so little. And I had. I’d pushed it to the back of my mind until a couple of months ago when I heard my aunt and mum talking about you. I’d been asking about you, I wanted to know who my dad was, and Mum had been fobbing me off, saying she didn’t know where you were, that you had just walked out and she’d never seen you again.’ The angry words were spilling out with hardly a breath in between. ‘I heard them talking about how Mum had met Uncle Graham and he said that you’d beat him up and your dad. Like you did my mum. You knocked her out – my aunt came round and found her, and found me crying under the table, so she took us both away. Mum got a restraining order against you so that you couldn’t hurt us ever again. I was too young to stick up for my mum then but I’m not now. I’m going to make you pay for what you did to her.’