Indie pulled her hood down over her head self-consciously, lowered her eyes and picked up the pace, walking past the Brennan’s house as quickly as she could and quietly letting herself in through the front door of her own home.
The house was warm and comforting and she took off her shoes and coat, sighing with the relief of being safely inside. A noise from upstairs made her stop. Was someone home? She listened again but heard nothing. Perhaps it was just her imagination, or a noise coming from next door? She crept up the stairs as quiet as a mouse and peered through the open doors of her siblings’ bedrooms and the bathroom but there was no one there. She relaxed and was just about to go back downstairs when she heard the noise again. It was coming from her parents’ room in the loft. She panicked and froze on the spot, trying to decide whether to do a runner or face the problem head-on. If she left the house, where would she go? It was freezing outside. And what if Sophie had seen her come in and told her mum, then she’d be in huge trouble.
She had a brainwave. She’d pop upstairs, tell her mum or dad, whoever it was, that she had awful period pains. Then hopefully they’d give her a hot water bottle and leave her to it. Feeling calmer now that she had hatched a good plan, she made her way up the stairs, ready to announce her arrival, but stopped dead when she reached the doorway. Inside were two adults, completely naked, writhing around on the bed, clearly having sex.
And only one of them was her parent.
She stared in silent horror at the sight in front of her and then backed away slowly before they saw her. She crept back down the stairs, tugged on her shoes and let herself silently out of the house, rushing back down Pemberton Road as fast as she could. She shivered in the cold and cursed herself for not picking up her coat on the way out, but she’d been desperate to leave.
What the actual fuck? She felt sick to the bone. It was literally the most disgusting, horrifying thing she had ever seen in her life. How could they do this? They were vile, horrible, selfish bastards and she hated them. They had ruined everything. And they were meant to be the parents, the role models to their children. What an absolute joke. Now here she was, out in the cold all alone with no coat and nowhere to go. They’d done that to her.
Tears were falling down her cheeks and she wiped them away angrily. She crossed her arms tightly in front of herself to keep warm against the December chill and marched towards the park. Once she was inside the park gates, she stopped and looked around, trying to decide where to go. She glanced at the children’s playground, saw that it was empty and made a beeline for it, sitting down on a swing and pushing herself up, up, up into the air.
She had loved the swings when she was a little girl. She used to beg her parents to keep pushing her, wailing so hard whenever they stopped that they would immediately start up again just to avoid the drama. She could have stayed on them for hours, soaring through the sky, feeling weightless and free. But her childhood was over now, she realised. She could never take her life back to the way it was after seeing what she had just seen.
The soothing to and fro movement of the swing calmed her down a bit and she considered her options. She could send a text now, revealing what she had just seen, and it would all be out in the open. But something was stopping her. It was too easy; they’d be let off too lightly. She was apoplectic with rage and she would never, ever, ever forgive them for this. She wanted revenge. But the question was, what was she going to do? She wasn’t sure yet, but she knew one thing for sure. They were going to pay for what they’d done. She would make damn sure of it.
The problem was, once she’d opened the can of worms it was impossible to close it again. After years of blindly trusting that Jack would never cheat on her, an idea had come to Angie and planted itself in her mind. Perhaps she’d got it wrong this whole time. And once she’d allowed that single, solitary thought to become a possibility, it opened the floodgates for more.
Was this paranoia or realisation? She didn’t know anymore.
She suspected everyone – a pretty girl from Jack’s work, who had never been anything but lovely to Angie, suddenly became enemy number one when she called the house asking to speak to him. The waitress in the coffee shop where they went for brunch on weekends, whose face always lit up whenever she saw Jack (‘It’s because I’m a good tipper,’ he said), Angie now saw in a different light. All the mums who asked where Jack was when she took Ellie and Freddy to school were now suspects in a crime of passion. At least she’d cleared Sophie of any wrongdoing: that was one step too far, even for Angie.
Still, she had never felt so out of control in her life. It was like she was going mad. One minute she was unravelling, imagining implausible scenarios in her head, the next she was talking herself off the ledge, reminding herself that she had no proof of any of this, that it might all be in her head. She considered confronting Jack, having it all out with him once and for all, but she was worried he would think she was crazy. She had always been so cool, so measured, she couldn’t let Jack see what was happening to her: it was shameful.
No, she decided, she couldn’t talk to Jack until she had some evidence. She had started covertly checking his phone and emails whenever she could, but she hadn’t found anything suspicious yet. Each time she checked and found nothing, she felt a wave of relief but it never lasted longer than a few hours before she was working herself up into a state again. Day by day she was oscillating between suspicion and disbelief and she was exhausted.
Jack had been asking her what was wrong. She tried to behave as though everything was fine, but it was becoming harder to hide her feelings. Sometimes she found herself staring at him with fury or flinching from his touch and he would look at her, hurt.
‘Have I done something to upset you?’ he would ask.
‘No it’s not you, I’m just tired,’ she always said.
‘I’m worried about you, Angie. I don’t think this new working pattern is helping. You’re trying to squeeze the same amount of work into less hours and it’s stressing you out. Perhaps you should consider going back to the old routine?’
‘I can’t do that, it’s not fair on the children. They’ve just got used to having me around. And anyway, I’m enjoying the school runs. And you’re busy on the new documentary.’
‘Look, I know you want to do everything, Angie, to please everyone, but sometimes you have to let things go. You’re not superhuman. None of us are.’
‘I do know that, Jack.’
‘But do you really? It’s very easy to spread yourself too thinly, you know.’
‘Jack, I’m fine.’ She could tell he wasn’t convinced but he didn’t challenge her further. And on top of that her work, her haven, was causing her problems too. Despite supporting her request for flexible working it was now becoming clear what they really thought about it. She was getting fewer of the juicy cases, being invited to fewer meetings, as though she was slowly being frozen out. Her dreams of becoming partner were rapidly falling by the wayside. Her new school year’s resolution to get a better work-life balance was working in theory but in practice it was benefitting neither part of her life. Everything was falling apart.
But she had to keep it together, she just had to. People relied on her. Her mum had just moved into sheltered accommodation and was having a difficult time settling in, so Angie was trying her best to make the place look homely and familiar. Christmas was around the corner and the children were counting on her to make it special as always. She had presents to buy and wrap, visits to arrange with family, panto tickets to order and, in a moment of sheer madness, she had offered to help out at the school’s winter fair too. And that was on top of her usual heavy workload. She would just have to brush everything under the carpet for now and get through the rest of the year. She’d deal with it all in the New Year.
At least Indie was on good form. She was being uncharacteristically nice to Angie, loving even. It was a relief not to be constantly treading on eggshells around her. They had gone shopping together a few day
s ago, just the two of them, and had a marvellous time. Angie guessed it was because her efforts to be around more over the last few months had paid off, allowing them to bond again. After two years of sulking, Indie was emerging from her cocoon and blossoming into a beautiful, thoughtful young lady. She was so proud of her, as she was of all her children. Whatever happened, they had to come first. And if that meant plastering on a smile and getting on with life for now, then so be it.
15
Sophie admired her reflection in the wardrobe mirror and smoothed down a non-existent crease on her dress. It was the same one she’d worn for the night out that never happened with Angie a few months ago and after months of training and teaching in the pool it looked even better on her now. She had got her hair cut just before Christmas and it skimmed her shoulder blades in glossy waves. On her hairdresser’s advice she had splashed out on balayage and a smoothing treatment too, an impulse decision she had made with the thrill of knowing that she was earning her own money again, even if it was a pittance compared to someone like Angie. Angie. She tried not to think about her and returned to looking at herself in the mirror again.
She had started the year feeling stuck in a rut. Her career had dwindled to a near halt, her children were growing up and becoming more independent, and their plans to have a baby were going nowhere. But look at her now! She had embarked on an exciting new career and was feeling better and healthier than she had in years. She was practically glowing. What a way to bring in the new year. The only thorn in her side was that she hadn’t been able to share her joy with Angie. She tried to ignore the butterflies in her stomach at the idea of seeing her again.
There had been no row, no huge blowout which would explain the shift in their relationship, just a subtle pulling away from each other. One day they were the closest of friends, going on holiday together and spending their weekends in each other’s homes, and the next they were barely communicating at all. They both had their reasons, perhaps one more than the other.
Now she couldn’t remember the last time she had seen Angie, other than the occasional glimpse. She didn’t even bump into them on the school run anymore as she had taken to driving instead on Angie’s days, so as to avoid her. Tom and Katie, oblivious to the shift, continued to play next door but instead of going round to collect them herself, Sophie had started shouting over the fence for them to come home. She couldn’t reconcile her feelings about it all.
She had enough going on in her life to distract her though. She had passed her swimming instructor training in October and had immediately signed up to a more advanced course. She had got a new job teaching at the local leisure centre and was thoroughly enjoying it. Although she was about twenty years older than most of the other teachers, they had welcomed her warmly and she had already earned a reputation for having a gift with nervous swimmers. They’d all gone out for a meal together just before Christmas and she had loved feeling part of a team again. When she wasn’t teaching, she was often swimming herself, powering up and down the pool until her mind finally shut out the messiness of life and focused singularly on the job at hand. It was addictive, that feeling of clarity in a world of chaos.
A few weeks ago, she had gone to the doctor and asked for a prescription for the pill, closing the chapter on her baby-making days for good. Her life had changed over the past few months and so had she. Having a baby with Alan no longer felt like the right thing to do. She didn’t know what the next year held for her yet but she knew that it was going to be very different.
When Jack had invited her over for a New Year’s Eve party, as they were walking home from school together one day, she had been surprised. Her initial reaction was to say no.
‘I’m not sure about that,’ she told him.
‘Why?’
‘You know why, Jack.’
‘You mean Angie?’
‘Yes of course I mean Angie.’
Jack looked pained. They rarely talked about Angie, ignoring the elephant in the room whenever they saw each other.
‘I think this party is what we all need actually,’ he told her. ‘A chance to clear the air.’
Sophie was still unconvinced, but Jack looked at her pleadingly. ‘Come on, Soph, it’s been such a strange time. I think Angie’s having some sort of burn out but she refuses to talk to me about it, and life at home is not the most fun at the moment. I’ve not been out in weeks; I’m knackered and I need to have a laugh. And I really want to spend New Year’s Eve with you.’
‘And Alan?’ Sophie reminded him.
‘The whole Brennan brood if it means you’ll come.’
Sophie thought about it. Her instincts were still screaming at her to turn down the invitation but Jack was looking at her like an adorable little puppy, making it impossible for her to refuse. And there was a small part of her that still hoped she and Angie could find a way back, no matter how unlikely that seemed. She looked at Jack and relented. ‘Oh, go on then, you sod.’
The party had been weeks away then, so she could put it to the back of her mind and forget all about it. But after a whirlwind Christmas, New Year’s Eve had arrived before she knew it and now she couldn’t put it off any longer. It was time to face the music, or Angie at least, and she was feeling horribly nervous. She gave her hair one last smooth over, took a deep breath and made her way downstairs, where Alan and the kids were waiting for her.
‘What do you think?’ she said to Alan, giving him a little twirl.
‘Beautiful, Soph, as always,’ he said. Tom and Katie were hovering by the back door already, eager to get going. They both remembered how fun the party had been last year and were looking forward to staying up late and having a sleepover.
‘Come on, let’s go,’ Tom said impatiently, tapping his foot, as Sophie scrabbled around for the food and drinks she had bought to take with them. With a final glance in the mirror, she nodded to Tom and he was out of the door and racing up the garden, with Katie on his heels, before she’d even put her shoes on. By the time she and Alan arrived, the children had already made themselves at home with the easy confidence of guests who knew they were welcome. Sophie shrugged her coat off and saw Jack making up drinks in the kitchen, while wearing a headband with sparkly balls bouncing around on top. She couldn’t stop a grin from escaping. Somehow, he managed to pull it off. He turned around and his face lit up when he saw her.
‘Brilliant, you’re here! Let’s get this party started!’ He handed mocktails to Tom and Katie and proffered martini glasses at Sophie and Alan.
‘What do we have here?’ Sophie asked, peering suspiciously into the glass.
‘A Jack Special,’ he declared proudly as Sophie took a hesitant sip. She winced. It was tasty but potent as usual. She’d have to make sure she didn’t get too plastered tonight.
‘Where’s Angie?’ she asked, remembering how last year she had gone upstairs to find her. She realised that she no longer felt entitled to do so.
‘Upstairs beautifying herself with Indie. They’ve been at it most of the afternoon. Facials, hair, nails, you name it. I’m sure they’ll be down in a minute but feel free to go on up if you want to?’
Sophie considered it and said, ‘No thanks, I’ll wait here.’
Angie admired herself in the mirror. She and Indie had spent the day pampering themselves and she’d even let her daughter curl her hair into loose waves. She’d done an excellent job, Angie thought, turning from left to right and enjoying how her hair bounced around lightly as she moved. She had treated herself to a new dress for Christmas and she loved the way it fit her – smart and subtly sexy. After a fun afternoon with Indie and two G&Ts, she was in a good mood.
It was time to put this disaster of a year behind her and start afresh. She would talk to Jack – properly talk to him – about how she was feeling. She would start making more of an effort with her friends again. And she would stop beating herself up when she couldn’t successfully juggle the many balls in her life, focusing more on the ones that really
mattered.
‘You look beautiful, Mum,’ Indie said.
‘So do you, Indie.’
She really did. Indie had always been striking and now she was growing into a beautiful young woman. Some people had said she had model potential and Angie had to agree. How lucky, she thought, to be that young and attractive, with your whole life ahead of you. She smiled proudly at her daughter, grateful that she had wanted to spend New Year with her family.
‘I can hear them downstairs, Mum. We’d better go down.’
With one last look at herself in the mirror, Angie turned around and replied, ‘Let’s go.’
As Indie made her way down the stairs, clutching her mother’s hand protectively, she smiled in anticipation. Angie looked stunning, just as Indie had wanted her to. She had spent hours pampering her and perfecting her hair and she hoped that her father would notice. She felt a fresh surge of anger at the memory etched in her mind. Ever since that vile afternoon when her entire life had come crashing down around her, she had been planning her revenge. And when Jack had told her that they were having a New Year’s Eve party, the idea had come to her immediately. There was nothing like an audience for the show she was planning to put on.
Of course, if she went ahead with it there would be some collateral damage and she did feel really bad about that, but that was life. People always got hurt. She knew that more than anyone. She felt like a coiled spring. Tonight was the night when the shit was going to hit the fan. Big time. And she was ready for it.
The Woman Next Door Page 14