The Ex-Boyfriend: A completely addictive and shocking psychological thriller

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The Ex-Boyfriend: A completely addictive and shocking psychological thriller Page 12

by Rona Halsall


  ‘They’re not usually. It tends to be sniping at each other, you know, little digs.’ She glanced back at the house, heard muffled shouts. Her heart raced faster. ‘Christ! I better get back inside.’

  Ruth held out her arms and Becca untangled Mia’s fingers from her hair, passing her over, shushing her plaintive cries of protest. ‘I’ll just be a minute, sweetie, promise.’ She kissed Mia’s cheek and hurried back inside, leaving Ruth with a shell-shocked expression on her face.

  Becca dashed into the lounge to find it empty, the house ominously quiet.

  Dean was in the kitchen, arms braced against the worktop, staring into the back garden, his jaw hard.

  ‘Where’s Dad?’

  ‘Upstairs. Packing.’ He sounded weary, and held out his arms for her, obviously needing a hug as much as she did. She could feel his heart hammering away in his chest as he held her close, and she supposed he was entitled to defend himself in his own house. Why did Dad go on the attack? Especially after their recent conversation when she’d pleaded with him to try harder. But Frank’s anger hadn’t been to do with the past and the death of her mother. He’d been sticking up for his daughter, something he’d always done. Now was the time to stand up for herself, instead of her dad doing it for her.

  She pulled away and looked Dean in the eye, conscious that she had his undivided attention for once. Now’s the time for that conversation. ‘I’m sorry if he had a go at you.’ She grimaced. ‘To be honest, I have been bending his ear this weekend about how lonely I get sometimes and how tricky it can be juggling everything with you away.’

  ‘Oh, Becca.’ He gave a heavy sigh and pulled her to him again, kissing the top of her head, his hand stroking her hair.

  She closed her eyes and laid her head on his chest, relishing his touch, the tickle of his breath on her skin.

  ‘Expanding the business has been way more stressful than I ever imagined. It’s got a life of its own and I feel like I grabbed a tiger by the tail and I daren’t let go.’ He held her tighter, swaying from side to side. ‘I love you, sweetheart. And sometimes it breaks my heart to go away. But I don’t really have a choice.’

  ‘Can’t you delegate to Alice more? Can’t she go away instead?’

  ‘It’s not that simple unfortunately. It takes the two of us to manage the events. You can’t do it with just one. Believe me, I tried. That’s why I recruited Alice in the first place.’ He released her then, his eyes finding hers. ‘But we have started talking about finding some part-time staff to give extra support. We’re both knackered, to be honest.’

  A flood of relief tumbled through her, and she beamed at him, thinking again that today was the day when the tide had turned. ‘That’s great news. You’re missing so much of Mia growing up, and I want you to myself a bit more.’ She grabbed his hand and linked her fingers with his. ‘The only thing is… I just promised Kate that we’d have Dad to stay sometimes, just to give her the occasional break.’

  Dean’s face fell and he extricated his hand from hers. ‘Well, that’s going to be awkward. He’s always had it in for me. I don’t understand why he can’t accept I’m your husband and we’re a family. Thing is, Becca, I’m not going to let him hurl abuse at me in my own house and just take it.’

  Becca cringed, knowing that he had a point. ‘I’m so sorry he had a go at you. I’ll talk to him, tell him it’s not on. But he’s my dad and he needs company. You know what he’s been like since he had his heart attack and had to retire. He doesn’t know what to do with himself, and he’s never got over Mum dying, has he? I would never forgive myself if something happened when Kate was away, and he was left on his own.’ Becca put a hand on her chest as if that alone could steady her racing heart. ‘I told you Kate was going away this weekend, didn’t I?’

  ‘You did, but I didn’t expect him to still be here.’

  ‘You said you wouldn’t be back until later. I was going to take him home after tea.’

  She listened to herself justifying her reasons for allowing her own father to come and stay for a few days. A surge of anger brought her hands to her hips, chin jutting forwards as she prepared to defend herself, the whole atmosphere now soured.

  ‘Mia was sick again on Friday night, so I was really glad Dad was here to help. And we had a lovely weekend while you were away, thank you very much. Have you any idea how much energy it takes to look after a three-year-old? Hmm?’ She waited a beat before carrying on. ‘No, you don’t, do you, because you never bloody do it!’ Becca was shouting now, all her frustrations bursting out. ‘You just swan around at your events, leaving me to mop up after a poorly child. Because that’s my place, isn’t it? Skivvy. You don’t care what my life’s like. In fact, I don’t think you care about me at all these days. It’s all bloody work.’ She looked daggers at him.

  Dean stared at her, hands out in front of him as if he was trying to magic the genie of her rage back in the bottle. There was a glimmer of fear in his eyes. ‘Whoa, where did that come from? Just cool it, Becca.’

  She slapped the worktop, making Dean flinch. ‘Why the hell should I? We don’t talk about things properly, Dean. Let’s start with why you and Dad can’t be civil with each other, shall we? He said you had a row with Mum on the day she died.’ She threw up her hands. ‘I didn’t even know you knew her! How could you have kept that from me? He thinks you upset her so much that she had a stroke. Only you can tell me what…’

  She felt a hand on her shoulder and jumped, startled by the unexpected touch.

  Frank stood behind her, his face still red. ‘I think it’s best if I just go home, love. Don’t want to be where I’m not wanted.’

  ‘Oh, we’re playing that game, are we?’ Dean snapped.

  Becca looked between the two of them, her own anger with Dean snuffed out by the concern she felt for her dad. He was so upset, she could just imagine him having another heart attack, with his blood pressure problems. Or a stroke. Or a seizure. The possibilities flooded into her mind, her eyes scanning his face for warning signs. She grabbed her car keys, lips pressed together in an angry line.

  ‘Come on, Dad. Let’s go.’

  Outside, Ruth was sitting on the garden wall, Mia in her lap listening intently as Ruth told her a story. Her eyes caught Becca’s as she strode down the driveaway, Frank tagging along behind, his overnight bag in his hand.

  ‘Let’s go and get some lunch, shall we?’ she said, her voice over bright, keeping the mood upbeat for Mia’s benefit. ‘There’s a pub with a soft-play area that Mia adores. I thought we could all go there. What do you say, Ruth? You fancy a trip out?’

  Ruth hesitated before she replied. ‘Well, it’s very kind of you to invite me, but I don’t want to get in the way. It seems like you have… family business to sort out.’

  Becca knew she was right. She had to have a proper chat with Frank. She’d only just promised Kate he could come over more often, and now Dean had banned him from the house. The idea of going back on her word to Kate made her shudder. Imagine having to tell her?

  Becca unlocked the car and Frank slid his bag into the boot. Mia was clearly apprehensive, clinging to Ruth, and Becca knew she was going to have to use all her persuasion skills to get her daughter in the car without a major tantrum. She crouched in front of her using her best cajoling voice. ‘We’re going to the soft-play. You like it there, don’t you?’ Mia’s eyes widened, her face pink from crying. Becca wiped her tears and managed to pry her from Ruth’s grasp. ‘Everything’s fine, sweetie, nothing to worry about.’ She gave her the unicorn and fastened her in the car seat while Frank shuffled into the back seat next to her, getting his phone out of his pocket.

  ‘Shall we see if we can find any games?’ he said, glancing at Becca. As a distraction technique it would probably work, and she gave a little nod.

  ‘I’ll get off home,’ Ruth said, handing Becca the carton of milk that had been sitting on the wall beside her.

  ‘Let me pay you for that.’

  Ruth wav
ed a hand, dismissing the suggestion. ‘Frank’ll need some at home, won’t he, if he’s been away.’

  ‘I’m so sorry about all this,’ Becca said with a flicker of a smile, eager to get going before Mia had a change of heart. ‘But I’ll see you soon.’

  There was an air of awkwardness between them, Becca’s outburst from Saturday still fresh in her mind. Ruth turned and walked away before Becca could apologise again and she watched her for a moment, wondering if she should run after her. Leave it for now. Concentrate on getting Frank home and Mia settled.

  She started the car, thinking that her day had been flipped on its head, her positivity ground into the dirt. Now she knew she’d be going back to an angry Dean, she wasn’t in a hurry to return and decided she’d wait at Frank’s house for Kate to get back first. At least then she could brief Kate on the day’s events.

  For both men, this behaviour was out of character. Dean was generally laid back and very forgiving. Her dad was more cut and dried in his views but was not one for conflict, tending to seethe and avoid rather than argue. Neither of them was being completely honest with her – there was something more to the animosity between them, that neither of them wanted to tell her.

  What on earth had Dean been arguing with Mum about?

  18

  Frank remained subdued, lost in his thoughts, and over lunch at the pub, Becca couldn’t get him to respond to any of her questions about Dean’s argument with her mum.

  ‘I’ve told you everything I know,’ was all he’d say.

  Becca had no desire to push him while Mia was close by and listening, so she put it to one side and vowed to talk to Dean later. She unwrapped herself from the past and told herself to enjoy the moment and play with her daughter. Gradually, Frank became more animated, the atmosphere less strained, and they had a nice couple of hours at the soft-play barn, which was attached to the pub.

  They picked up some groceries on the way back to Frank’s to re-stock his fridge and make something for their evening meal, but the argument resurfaced in her mind when they pulled up to Frank’s house. The promise she’d made to Kate and her dad now seemed impossible to keep if Dean wouldn’t allow Frank through the door. It was another thing to worry about, another plate to spin, another problem to solve.

  Now he was back at home, Frank became quiet, his body hunched as he trudged up the path to the front door.

  ‘Are you okay, Dad?’ she said a little while later when she’d put all the shopping away and came through to the lounge.

  Mia was asleep on the sofa and he was sitting in his armchair, staring at the wall. When he turned to her there were tears in his eyes, and he sniffed and wiped them away. Then she noticed he’d been looking at a picture of him and her mother on their wedding day.

  ‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ Frank said, getting up. ‘I’ve a bit of cake somewhere if you fancy it.’

  ‘Lovely, Dad, thanks.’

  Mia stirred. ‘Cake,’ she said, the words having burrowed into her sleeping brain and woken her up. She slid off the sofa and staggered after Frank towards the kitchen, her hair all messy, eyes only just open.

  Becca could hear the murmur of Frank’s voice as he talked to her, the excited tone he reserved for his granddaughter, and Becca wanted, with all her heart, for them to have a close relationship. There were no grandparents on Dean’s side of the family. His father had had a seizure while driving and died at the wheel. His mother had died a couple of years later of breast cancer, and there were no aunties or uncles or cousins. To Becca, that made the bond between Mia and Frank all the more important. Becca let out an enormous sigh at the very moment Frank walked into the room.

  ‘You’re sounding a bit fed up, love,’ he said as he handed her a mug of tea and a plate with a fat slice of cake on it. ‘Lemon drizzle. Your mum’s favourite.’ He gave a little laugh as he sat back down in his chair. ‘Thing is, I don’t really like it so much – it’s definitely not my favourite but I still find myself buying it because it was her little treat.’ His chin wobbled. ‘Sounds daft, doesn’t it? Ten years, it’s been, and I still buy her favourite instead of mine.’

  Becca studied her cake, reluctant to eat it now it had a whole wreath of symbolism wrapped round it. Mum on a plate. She stifled an inappropriate giggle, but it wouldn’t stay in and she burst out laughing.

  After a moment Frank joined in too. ‘We’re as nutty as each other, aren’t we?’

  His words stuffed her laughter back down her throat. She coughed. He thinks I’m nutty. Still nutty. Will he always see me like that? Was it a label she’d have for the rest of her life? She took a huge bite of her cake, filling her cheeks with it until she looked like a hamster, but she didn’t care. With difficulty, she swallowed it down, taking a big gulp of tea to get rid of the taste. She wasn’t keen on lemon drizzle cake either.

  Kate arrived in a bustle of shopping bags when Becca was washing up after tea.

  ‘Hiya!’ she called from the hallway, and Becca heard the front door bang.

  She dried her hands and went to greet her sister, who was beaming in a way Becca hadn’t seen for years, her cheeks glowing, eyes sparkling. Becca stepped forwards and gave Kate a hug. ‘You look fantastic. Going away obviously suits you.’

  As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them, given the fact she was going to have to go back on her promise of having Frank to stay. ‘Come into the kitchen,’ she murmured, glancing up the stairs, where Frank and Mia were playing hide and seek in the bedrooms. ‘I need to speak to you about something.’

  Kate frowned, obviously puzzled. ‘That sounds sort of ominous.’

  Becca cringed but tried to make her voice light. ‘I made a lasagne if you want some. It’s in the oven keeping warm.’

  ‘Lovely, but you’ve got me wondering now… Go on, spit it out.’

  Becca closed the kitchen door behind them, glad that Frank’s house was still compartmentalised, unlike her open-plan home. Still, she pulled Kate close so their voices wouldn’t be heard.

  ‘Bit of a problem. I got home from work to find Dean and Dad having an enormous bust-up. Mia was terrified, poor kid.’ She puffed out a frustrated breath. ‘Anyway, Dean had a go at me for asking Dad to stay, said he didn’t want him in the house.’

  Kate’s eyes grew wide. ‘Oh my God, I didn’t think there was a chance of a crossover – you said Dean wouldn’t be back until tonight, so there’d be no chance of them bumping into each other.’ Kate couldn’t keep Becca’s gaze, her eyes falling to the floor. ‘I thought it would be okay.’

  ‘It would have been if Dean had come back later, like he’d said.’

  Kate pulled a face, the sparkle gone from her eyes now. ‘Oh, dear.’

  Becca nodded. ‘That’s right. It’s messed everything up, really. I know I promised I’d have Dad more often to give you a break, but I’m afraid that can’t happen yet. Not until I can persuade Dean to change his mind.’ She caught her sister’s eye. ‘Why did you never tell me that Dean and Mum knew each other?’

  Kate’s face froze, startled. ‘Oh, I… um, I…’ She swallowed, sounded defensive. ‘Yes, maybe I should have said something, but we thought it was up to Dean, not us.’

  Becca gritted her teeth. ‘Do you know what they were arguing about on the day she died?’

  Kate didn’t respond for a moment, then shrugged a shoulder and looked away. ‘Oh, I don’t think it’s anything mysterious. Some people don’t like each other.’

  Becca huffed, her hands gripping the worktop behind her. ‘You know that’s not it. I can tell when you’re lying because you won’t look at me.’

  Kate snapped her eyes up from the floor.

  ‘Come on, you know, don’t you?’

  Kate folded her arms tightly across her chest. She was silent for a moment, her fingers tapping her ribs as if she was playing percussion on them. ‘I honestly don’t know the full details. I wasn’t there. All I know is Dad links that argument with Mum’s death, and you know he’
s still angry that she died, and left him on his own, so he’s transferred that anger on to Dean.’ She gave another shrug, mouth twisted to one side. ‘That’s my take on it.’

  Becca considered her reply. ‘Whenever I’ve asked Dean why they can’t get on, he’s always said he thinks Dad’s jealous of him and won’t accept that I’m married now and have my own family. Dad says Dean is responsible for Mum having a stroke by getting her so upset. That’s two very different stories.’

  ‘I know.’ Kate sighed. ‘Grief doesn’t make sense, does it? We all process death differently, and as far as I can see, Dad needs someone to blame. Unfortunately, he’s chosen Dean.’

  Becca thought about that all the way home.

  There was something in Kate’s demeanour that made Becca wonder if she was telling her the whole truth.

  19

  It was after eight o’clock by the time Becca was able to drag Mia away from the house. Mia had wanted to go through the whole box of Beanie Babies and show them to Kate, telling her their names and which were the naughty ones, and which were her favourites. She’d had them all laughing, and Becca had realised that it wasn’t often that she spent any time with Kate these days. Got to sort out my work–life balance, she decided as she arrived home and pulled up the drive behind Dean’s car.

  Mia had fallen asleep as soon as they’d turned on to the dual carriageway, and Becca carefully lifted her out of her car seat, trying not to wake her, because then it would be a nightmare getting her to settle again.

  She popped her head into the lounge, but Dean wasn’t there. Quietly, she carried Mia up the stairs and laid her on the bed, taking off her shoes but nothing else, for fear of waking her. She tucked her in, tiptoed out of the room and walked straight into Dean as he came out of the bathroom.

  She put a finger to her lips, warning him to be quiet.

 

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