The Lies She Told: A wickedly twisted psychological thriller that you cannot put down!

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The Lies She Told: A wickedly twisted psychological thriller that you cannot put down! Page 15

by Paula Johnston


  ‘Oh, morning babe - we didn’t want to wake you’, Lilly says, smiling at me with pity.

  ‘We are going to go put our towels down at the pool before it gets too busy, and then go for breakfast and sort all this shit out,’ she continues. ‘You coming?’

  I hesitate before I reply, unsure if I am hungry or not. My stomach gurgles gently at the thought of something to eat but I decide that I want to be left alone for now. I don't want to hash over the same details I fed them all last night. I need a clear head to think things through.

  ‘It’s OK babe. I think I’m just gonna’ go for a shower and hang here for a bit. Would you mind grabbing me a pastry from the shop on your way back?’

  ‘Of course,’ she beams. She's always so sweet and innocent which is why it was such a shock to see her so angry last night.

  They re-enter the apartment and then shuffle out of the door one by one, the sound of their flip flops snapping against the tiles. I close the door behind them and wince at the state of our living room. Glasses with toenails of wine are still abandoned on the small wooden table, and more than a few empty bottles are lined up on the floor. It was best for all of us to stay in last night, even though it was our first night here. To be honest, I was scared of bumping into you again, but not for the reasons you might think. It wasn't that I didn't want to see you. Oh I definitely wanted to see you, but the girls – their anger was so raw and unpredictable. If you mixed their emotions with alcohol and threw in a slice of you, there would have been nothing left of you for me to play with.

  I think back to their expressions, the horror, the disgust - some of it maybe even directed at me. As the night unfolded, they let rip with their opinions. They were dumbfounded that I had kept such a huge secret to myself, and for so long. They also couldn't believe that I chose to stay with Jacob. I think they even took the whole drama a bit personally, as though I didn’t trust them with such a secret, but it wasn’t that at all. Naturally I wanted the comfort of my friends. I wanted it as soon as I found your messages. I yearned for them to hug me tightly and tell me everything would be OK. I wanted all of their shoulders to cry on, especially Georgia's, but I didn't want their judgement. I didn't want to hear their advice. I didn't want them to tell me to leave Jacob.

  Silent tears begin to escape my eyes, dripping gently down my cheeks and for the first time since seeing you yesterday I allow myself to cry. I didn't show any weakness last night, I kept the truth matter of fact and almost military like. I wasn't ready to fall apart, not in front of everyone. Today though, my tears flow like waterfalls, fresh and pure. I feel so many different emotions right now; anguished by the reality, betrayed by my husband, relieved that I could finally share my pain, but most of all I felt achingly vengeful.

  Chapter 24

  After I'm satisfied that I have no more fluid left in me to produce any more bloody tears, I take a nice long, cool shower. It makes me feel a little better and washes away the lethargic heaviness in my head. I wrap a large towel around my body as I head out to the balcony, grabbing a large bottle of icy water from the fridge as I pass. My feet are still damp on the hot tiles and leave dainty size 3 footprints.

  Our room is on the 7th floor and has a bird’s eye view of everyone and anyone, something I am now extremely grateful for. Peering down, I notice that the girls have put down their beach towels and belongings at a little sun trap on the far side of the pool. Their beds are empty, so I suspect they are still out for breakfast; enjoying themselves and gossiping about me no doubt. I hope Georgia isn't too harsh on me, she usually has my back in any situation but this time, I'm not too confident.

  I run my fingers through my wet hair, attempting to de-tangle some of the knots without a comb and take a few minutes to admire the beautiful view that has gone unnoticed since arriving here. In the distance you can see gentle waves ripple throughout the warm, salty sea. It's too far away to see other people, but you can just about make out the shape of a few sailing boats and even a parasail that has been propelled high into the sky but is safely secured to the end of a speedboat. It really is a stunning view, one that you could only really admire from such a height like our hotel room. I inhale the earthy scent of the air. It's not really something you can describe though, it's just a different smell to back home; one you can only experience in hot, foreign countries. The large, warm sun perches above a single puffy cloud in the bright blue sky as it prepares to shoot blinding rays of light over scantily clad bodies.

  When my gaze reverts back to down below me, I notice that one bed appears to be sitting on its own. It’s peculiarly positioned too far away from any of the beds at either side of it for it to be part of a group. And a pink and white towel lying gently on top makes me wonder if it could be yours. It might be too big an assumption to make though. I don't know if you have anyone else here with you. Just because I only stumbled across you yesterday doesn't mean that you are alone. You might have brought a friend for support or someone that will be useful to you for whatever it is you came here to do. I guess I will just need to wait and see.

  My stomach had started to growl furiously as I waited patiently for the girls to return, but when they did, only Georgia came back up to see me. She brought me a fresh litre bottle of water and a chocolate chip croissant without saying much and then pottered off to join the rest of the girls down at the pool. I didn't try to talk to her much either though, I was a little bit miffed at her being so stand-offish with me. I never expected her not to go for breakfast with the others, after-all, a girl’s gotta eat, but surely my best friend would at least have offered to spend the day with me up here - you know, to make sure I was alright. But she didn’t. Instead she left me by myself and I can't help but wonder if she’s still annoyed at me for not telling her about Jacob. It might just be that I’ve thrown a big ugly curve ball into what was supposed to be our fun annual holiday, but that would be a little selfish of her. It's not like I asked for any of this.

  No, it's probably the first option. Knowing her, she will be thrashing around solutions in her head, cursing me for not handling this whole thing differently. She usually, and always has had a strong and forceful opinion, one that she always believes to be the correct one, and I have no absolutely no doubt she would have an unsavoury one about this.

  Even though I’m seated, I have positioned my chair so that I can still see the pool area below through a gap in the railing. What should have been my bed is lying at the end of the row, vacant and lonely. I have no intentions of taking my place on it today, but I want to keep you on your toes; leave you wondering when I will show up. Even if that empty recliner wasn't yours, I imagine you will still be on the lookout for me today.

  The croissant melts between my fingers as I tear off little pieces and pick at the chocolate chips. I lick the mess away to avoid lingering sticky fingers. I feel you arrive even before I see you. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up despite the summer heat, alerting me to your presence through female intuition. I watch as you take your place on the bed that I suspected correctly was yours. You are alone, nobody comes to join you and I wonder if you have really been crazy enough to come here by yourself. Quite a bold move.

  You do little to hide that you are blatantly staring over at my group of friends. You must have recognised them from yesterday. My lips curl upwards into a satisfied smile as I watch you in amusement. You are thirsty for attention but the thing is, my girls don’t know what you look like, and so they don’t notice you one little bit. Instead they apply sun cream to each other’s backs and adjust themselves into perfect sunbathing positions. They are all completely oblivious to you. Did you expect a reaction from them? Is that why you can't tear your gaze away from them? But they don't know you, or know of you, remember? You're here on the basis that I don't even know who you are.

  I adjust my chair slightly so that I have a clearer view of you and honestly, I enjoy just sitting here watching you. It's a bit exhilarating being able to examine you in person from my se
cret hideaway. You have chosen to wear a yellow bikini with white spots or flowers - it’s hard to tell from a distance, and your dark hair is tied up in a more of a dishevelled bun than a styled messy one. That strikes me as a little odd. You don't look as neat and tidy as I would have imagined you to be. Jacob likes his girls to be pristine and beautifully presented. I expected that you would be flaunting your seductive curves in lively eye-catching colours, fully accessorised with statement jewellery and with not a single hair out of place. Interesting, I tell myself. Very interesting.

  At the moment you're not doing anything remotely interesting, and quite frankly you're beginning to bore me, so I pull over one of the other chairs and prop my feet on top. I push my dark sunglasses on and let my head lull back, allowing the warm sun to beat down over me.

  Of course, I check on you from time to time, but still there has been nothing to write home about. Considering how brazen you have been by coming here, I half expected you to go over to the girls at some point or another and introduce yourself but you haven't budged. Hmmm, what exactly did you come here to do? What is your great master plan? If it’s simply to lie around like a corpse all day then crack on, sweetheart. It's your time you're wasting, not mine.

  I push my chair away from me with my feet and begin to stand up to stretch my now stiff legs. My foot barely lands on the scorching tiles when I hear it; a muffled whimper emanating from down below. What is that? I tip toe so that I can peer over the balcony fully to find the source of the noise but I can't see anyth… Wait. It's you. But you can't be. Are you fucking with me right now? Are you... are you crying? You struggle to catch your breath and the elderly couple sat next to you - much to my amusement - do sweet fuck all but glare at you in bewilderment. I look over at the girls, who don’t seem to have even noticed the drama at the opposite side of the pool, and for the first time in my life I’ve never been happier that I have such self-absorbed friends.

  George is the exception though. She slightly lifts her head from her book for just a moment or two, apparently intrigued by your random outburst, but decides to ignore you like everyone else and goes back to reading her book. She isn’t stupid though; she's probably the smartest out of all of us and so I wonder if she suspects that the blubbering mess is you. You see, my reasoning behind this assumption is that I can’t imagine Georgia not wanting to help in some way if she sees someone so distressed, even if it is a stranger. Ever since we were kids, she was always the one who took on other people’s problems as her own; protecting them and taking care of them. She has a big heart, one of the many reasons why I love her and so it’s odd for her to seem so nonchalant about the exhibition, which makes me think she has clocked on to who you are by herself.

  If I'm right, and she has figured out who you are, she doesn’t let on, just as I had begged her not to, and I’m grateful for her loyalty. Given that Georgia is now unlikely to react, I feel safe to allow my eyes to dart back to you and I notice that your pathetic sniffles have now stopped, as if by magic. Well, that was fast. Whatever upset you can’t have been that bad. I barely finish my thought process when another lightbulb moment jolts me. Oh, come on, really? Surely, you weren't faking it. I watch you even more carefully now, studying what I can from the varied expressions splashed across your face. There are no more tears, no further signs of discomfort and your breathing is back to a normal, steady pace.

  Even If I had been gullible enough to believe you, for even just a minute, you are oblivious to the fact that you would have just ruined your unknown victory. Even with your eyes masked by your dark glasses, your slip-up here is the positioning of your head. It's rigid and focused in the direction of my girls, waiting patiently for a reaction of some kind. I wonder if you believed that one of them would have made their way over to you. Is that what you wanted, for one of them to befriend you? I cover my mouth with my hand, masking the laughter that has escaped my throat, even though there's no way you would be able to hear me from all the way up here.

  Your bed is pushed back with a loud screech and you storm off like a little brat in the direction of the hotel bar, returning a few minutes later with a half empty plastic cup of something you clearly have made fast work of. I continue to watch gleefully as you throw yourself down onto the bed in an undeniable strop and rest your head on your arms above your head. I chuckle once again. What a nutcase, you are. Maybe this day will turn out to be eventful after all.

  Chapter 25

  After your little melodramatic melt down earlier, I hoped that you would delight me with some more humorous entertainment but annoyingly you have decided to do nothing but sleep. It's been more than a few hours now and I'm growing agitated at your lack of effort. I need to get up for a bit and move about. I jump to my feet and a sharp rush of pain similar to a plaster being ripped off a hairy arm causes me to wince. The backs of my thighs had melted into the white plastic of the chair and evidently weren't ready to budge.

  I check the time on my phone and see that it’s now quarter to four in the afternoon. The heat has been blazing today; one of the warmest temperatures I think I have ever experienced, and plenty of people down below have erected their umbrellas to shelter themselves from the sun. You haven't though, you weren't thinking properly and so as you slept the day away, the yellow ball of fire in the sun has taught you a lesson by branding your skin with its furious wrath. Your back looks raw and painful, something you will no doubt feel as soon as you decide to wake up. This makes me happy. You deserve to feel pain.

  The girls are still lying across from you; their skin a stark contrast to yours as they glisten under the sun whilst slowly but surely turning a beautiful shade of bronze. I think I will go down to see them for a bit after-all, I’m starting to feel the effects of cabin fever being cooped up here all on my own.

  I pull a pair of denim shorts and a cheap tank top from my suitcase in the corner of the room that is still waiting to be unpacked and quickly dress myself, removing the headband from my hair allowing it to fall freely around my shoulders. I give it a quick ruffle, creating some extra volume now that it has dried naturally in the sun. I leave the apartment and make my way down the many flights of stairs instead of taking the lift. It's much easier to go down seven flights of stairs than it is to climb up I imagine, and I'm enjoying being able to relieve some of the stiffness in my legs seeing as they have barely moved all day.

  Eventually I emerge at the rear of the pool - behind you - and I pause so that I can use these precious moments to really savour the opportunity to study you from a much more intimate angle than I have been able to before. I see all of you now; the painful blistering of your fried skin, the faint white line protruding from where your bikini has lay across your back and managed to escape the blanket of heat, the richness of your dark hair - a richness just like mine - scooped up on to the top of your pretty little head, your tiny waist that only heightens the curve of your ass which is undoubtedly supported by your shapely thighs. I swallow those details down with a large gulp, keeping them tucked away inside me.

  A little blonde-haired boy starts to run in the opposite direction of his parents and jumps into the pool, not only causing a large splash that fires drops in your direction but also a stern whistle from the teenage lifeguard. The tanned boy in the red shorts drops the whistle from his mouth and wiggles his finger at the little boy. Some cold water has landed on your back, disturbing your slumber and I watch as you use the palms of your hands to push yourself up slowly and onto your knees.

  What's interesting here is that you don't even look for the source of the splash. Instead you stare straight ahead as you had done earlier today, directing your attention towards my friends who are now all sitting upright and chatting amongst themselves, completely unaware that they have a spectator.

  I don’t want you to see me, I thought that I would be able to creep down whilst you slept and be gone by the time you eventually woke up. I should retreat, turn back and head up to my room but I just can’t seem to tear my feet fr
om the spot. I am quite transfixed on you and what makes it even more exciting is that you don't even know I am here. You seem to have bounced back to life quickly and I watch as you pick up your phone. Your fingers move rapidly over the screen, presumably replying to a text. A horrible acidic taste forms in the back of my throat as I wonder if you could be texting Jacob. Surely you haven't told him you are here, have you? What good would that do? Then again, I'm still not sure what your plan even is and so anything is possible I suppose. Maybe you are not here to speak to me, but simply to put the frighteners on Jacob by showing just how far you are willing to go to be with him. You could be taunting him, teasing him, relishing in his fear. I enjoy the idea of him suffering but as I glance down at my hands, I notice that they have started that now familiar tremble that only appears when I think of the two of you together. And then I hear it. The same noise from earlier. My head juts back up to find you sobbing once again into your hands, only this time the snivelling is much, much louder than before.

  I lean against a large white pillar and cross my arms and allow you to do your thing. Who am I to stop you? I mean you are really going for it; an Oscar winning performance that I can’t fault, but what’s really brilliant about the whole damn thing is that nobody gives a flying fuck. Nobody cares about you. You have failed again; I almost want to applaud you for your efforts but one of those disingenuous slow claps that make things really awkward.

  Realising that you aren't getting the response you want; you start to fumble around; collecting your belongings and throwing them into your bag. I realise that you are packing up to leave, but something inside me tells me to stop you. I can't let you leave. I need to take control of the situation. Impulse shakes me into action and before I know it, I’m standing right beside you with my hand placed gently on your clammy shoulder. You glare at me: stunned, baffled, confused - perhaps even scared.

 

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