‘Oh.’ I realise I don’t sound happy for her, so I make an attempt to recover myself. ‘Well, that’s fantastic news. Congratulations!’ I reach forward and give her an awkward hug.
‘Thanks, Fiona. I’ll work out my notice of course.’
‘Well, only if you feel up to it.’
She laughs. ‘I’m pregnant, not sick.’ Her hand goes to her stomach, which I realise is a little more rounded than usual. Funny I never noticed.
‘I didn’t realise you wanted to start a family.’
‘It wasn’t planned. But Josh is really happy about it and he’s asked me to marry him.’
‘Well, that’s a double congratulations then!’ I try to sound happier than I feel. It’s awful to admit it, but aside from the inconvenience of losing my assistant, there’s another feeling bubbling up inside my gut. Something visceral. Primal. It’s not about Molly leaving, it’s more to do with the fact that she’s only twenty-two – ten years younger than me – and she’s having a baby with her boyfriend. I realise that I’m jealous of Molly. Which is crazy, isn’t it?
I’ve always known Nathan doesn’t want kids, and I don’t either. Before we got married, we both decided that we wanted to enjoy our careers without the guilt or distraction of having children. Nathan has always been extremely ambitious, and I’ve always loved my work, so it made sense to take the pressure off ourselves. To not conform to society’s expectations. But lately, I’ve been having these thoughts that maybe it wouldn’t be altogether terrible to have a family. I see my friends with their children, and I’ve always thought it looks chaotic and messy and painful and – to be frank – like bloody hard work. So why would I want to put myself through that? It makes no sense. These new maternal feelings are inconvenient. But I can’t help them. And, looking back at the decision Nathan and I made, I can’t help wondering whether it really was my decision to not have kids, or whether I just went along with him because I didn’t want to rock the boat. But I must be crazy to be thinking about this right now, because how can I even contemplate having a family when everything else is such a mess?
‘Are you okay, Fiona?’ Molly’s frowning at me.
‘Yes, I’m fine. Just trying to take in your news. You must be so excited.’
‘I am. Nervous about being a mum, but I also can’t wait, if that even makes sense!’ she laughs. It’s the most animated I’ve ever seen her.
‘You’ll be great,’ I say, taking a sip of my coffee.
‘I hope so. I know I’m changing the subject a bit, but what are you going to do about those tax guys?’ Molly jerks her head in the direction of my office. ‘It looks like they’re going through absolutely everything. I was talking to Josh about it last night and he said—’
‘You told Josh about them?’ I snap, suddenly furious that my employee has been gossiping about my affairs.
‘Yeah.’ She flushes. ‘I didn’t realise it was a secret. I mean, you can see them through the glass. They’re not exactly hidden from view.’
‘Yes,’ I concede, ‘but no one knows who they are. They could be anyone.’
‘They’re going through your files, Fiona. It’s pretty obvious they’re from the tax office.’
‘Uh, no. They could be accountants, or lawyers or anyone. Look, that’s beside the point. You shouldn’t be gossiping about my private business to everyone.’
‘Josh isn’t everyone. He’s my fiancé. And you never told me it was a secret.’ She scowls. ‘And it’s a business matter, not a private one – I work here.’
I get to my feet and stretch my arms out in front of me, trying to dampen my anger. ‘You’re right, I’m sorry. I’m just a bit tense. It’s so disruptive having them here. Puts me on edge. And it’s a real creativity killer, you know?’
She shrugs. ‘What did Nathan say?’
‘About what?’
She looks at me as though I’m losing the plot. ‘About the tax guys.’
‘Oh, well, not a lot.’
She raises an eyebrow. ‘You didn’t tell him?’
I sigh. ‘Not yet. I haven’t had a chance.’
‘You should tell him. He might be able to help.’
I’m not enjoying this straight-talking Molly. I think I preferred it when she kept her opinions to herself.
She sniffs. ‘I don’t plan on keeping secrets from Josh. We’ve promised to tell each other everything.’
Well good for you. I try not to roll my eyes. Sometimes young love can be sickening. They think they’ve got it all figured out. But they just need to give it time. They’ll see that love isn’t always all it’s cracked up to be.
‘So, do you think you’re gonna get in trouble?’ She turns to look through my office window, being very unsubtle about the fact she’s talking about them. Now she knows she’s leaving she probably doesn’t feel like she has to be a good employee any longer.
‘No! Why would I get in trouble?’
‘I dunno. They can get you on any little thing, can’t they? My aunt got done for tax evasion and had to pay a massive fine. She also went to prison, but we weren’t supposed to know about that part.’
Her talk of tax evasion and prison is seriously giving me the jitters. I look at Molly’s face and realise she’s loving the drama of it all. I want to tell her to shut up and get on with her work, but how would that look? I suddenly have an unwanted thought that sends my pulse racing – what if it’s Molly who’s responsible for the tax inspectors showing up? I know I can sometimes be a strict boss, but would that drive Molly to do something so awful? I don’t know. All I do know is that she’s enjoying this all a little too much.
She could have left an anonymous tip with HMRC. Maybe she feels that now she’s leaving the area, she’s got nothing to lose. She might have done it out of spite. People can be mean, bitter, all sorts. Over the years, I’ve had a couple of anonymous bad reviews online and I’m sure they wouldn’t have been left by any of my clients, as I always ensure they’re super happy with my work. No, I’ve always put the one-star reviews down to people who are angry and disappointed with their own lives. Either that, or they’re jealous of my success.
I watch Molly as she talks about her relation’s prison sentence, her blue eyes flashing, and her face flushed with the awfulness of it all. Could Molly really be behind my misfortune? Am I overreacting, or have I actually hit upon the truth?
Twelve
TIA
‘Thanks so much for having us all over, Tia.’ Pip gives me a hug. ‘Sorry your kitchen looks like an explosion in a cake factory. Are you sure we can’t give you a hand tidying up?’
‘No, it’ll take me two minutes to shove it all in the dishwasher.’ I survey the devastation and think, More like two hours.
‘If you’re sure…’ Pip slings her bag over her shoulder. ‘Sasha, Milo, say thank you to Tia for a lovely afternoon.’
‘Thank you,’ they repeat dutifully.
Emily and her daughter Maisie are valiantly attempting to pick up some of the toys that are scattered all over the hall and down the stairs.
‘Thanks, you guys, but honestly just leave it.’ I grab hold of Leo, who’s running past me into the lounge with another tub of Lego. ‘Take that back upstairs!’
Why did I tell Rosie she could have her friends round after school today? I’m exhausted and I could barely concentrate on Pip and Emily’s conversation. All I could think about were those photos of me with that man. About whether it even really is me. And if it is, then what the hell happened that night?
Normally I love having my friends over and doing homely stuff with all the children. I like being sociable, and baking makes me feel like a good parent, like Mother Earth. But this afternoon seemed to drag on forever. And I’m sure there was a weird atmosphere between me, Pip and Emily. I caught them giving one another funny looks more than once. Could they have heard about the rumour at school? Maybe Sasha and Maisie mentioned something. That’s all I need – the parents speculating about whether or not I’m a murde
rer!
Finally, my visitors leave, and I settle the kids in front of the TV while I set about restoring some sort of order to the house. At least we now have several Tupperware boxes full of sailboat cupcakes for the regatta cake stall, which is another thing I can check off my list.
I’ve just got the dishwasher going and started wiping down the surfaces when Ed comes downstairs. He was hiding out in our bedroom while the chaos was going on. He did offer to help out with the kids, but I told him to take it easy and chill out in the bedroom, as he’ll be leaving soon for his evening shift at the pub.
‘Hey, Tee, want a hand?’ He comes over and kisses me on the lips. I get another cold sweep of fear at the thought of what might happen if he sees those photos. How will I be able to justify them when I can’t even remember what happened that night?
‘No, that’s okay. You’ve got work soon. Sit down and take it easy while you can.’
‘Are you sure?’ He leans his elbows on the newly cleaned countertop. ‘That sounded like a full-on afternoon. How many kids were here?’
‘Our two, plus two of Rosie’s friends and little Milo.’
‘Sounded like you had the whole school round.’
‘Most of the noise and mess was caused by your son.’
‘Love the use of the word “your”.’
I grin, knowing full well that Leo gets his energy from me. According to my parents, I was also a handful at that age, while Ed was supposedly a mellow, easy-going child. ‘How long have you got before you leave?’
Ed looks up at the kitchen clock. ‘Half an hour max.’
‘Got time for a sit down and a cuppa while the kids are occupied? I’ll clean the rest up later.’
‘Yeah, go on then. Just a quick one.’ I make us both a drink while Ed gives the table a wipe over. He stops for a moment. ‘I love the smell of baking. D’you reckon we could have one of those cupcakes with our tea? Or are they strictly for the regatta?’
‘I think we could sneak a couple without Rosie finding out. She was acting like the cake police earlier, making sure that Leo didn’t eat too many.’ I bring two over to the table along with our drinks.
‘These look amazing, Tee.’ He examines the little cakes with their perfect blue-and-red sailing boats iced on the top.
‘They’re cool, aren’t they? I used stencils.’
‘These will go down really well on Saturday.’
‘You think?’
‘Definitely.’
Ed’s phone buzzes in his pocket and he takes it out and stares at the screen, his forehead wrinkling.
‘What’s up?’
‘Not sure. I just got a text. What are they talking about?’ He passes me the phone.
As I take it from him and start reading the words on the screen, I get a sick, tingling feeling in my stomach. The words are stark:
Ask Tia about the photos.
My heart begins to pound, and my throat goes dry. There’s no name attached to the text, and it just shows up as an unknown number. I have to make it look like I’m calm, even though my insides are churning. I can’t give Ed any reason to think this is anything sinister.
‘Hm.’ I frown and hope my voice remains steady. ‘Could be about the school photos. I asked Mrs Lovatt to let me know how to order them, but I’m not sure why she would have texted you?’ I pass the phone back to him quickly so he can’t see my trembling fingers. ‘She probably got your number off the parents contact list.’
‘Doesn’t make much sense though,’ Ed persists. ‘Why would she be asking me to ask you about the photos when it was you who asked the school?’
‘No idea.’ I shrug. ‘It must be a mix-up. I wouldn’t worry about it.’
‘You’re right.’ He shakes his head and shoves his phone back into his pocket.
‘The communication at school has always been useless,’ I add.
‘Didn’t we already have school photos this year?’ Ed asks.
Right this moment I’m cursing having such an involved husband. Why can’t he just shrug and move on? ‘This was about the sports day photos,’ I say, marvelling at my new-found ability to lie so easily.
Thankfully, Ed doesn’t question the message any further. We drink our tea and I listen to him talk about work, trying to latch on to his words and act interested. Trying to pretend that my mind isn’t in turmoil about who could be sending me disturbing photos and texting my husband. Are they trying to ruin my marriage? Is that it? How did they even get Ed’s mobile number? Maybe it’s someone we know. A friend, or someone he works with. Could it perhaps be another woman? Someone who wants Ed for herself. Maybe an ex-girlfriend?
Or perhaps it isn’t personal at all. Maybe it’s someone who wants to blackmail me? Good luck with that. I have no money to speak of. Ed and I live month to month. There are no savings, other than about twenty quid in our emergency-fund jar, and we have a mortgage with no equity in the house. But if they wanted to blackmail me, surely they would tell me what they want. My mind is leaping ahead to all kinds of conclusions. But I think the most likely is that it’s another woman trying to destroy my marriage. If I find out who it is, I’ll… Well, I don’t know what I’ll do. But I won’t let them get away with it, that’s for damn sure.
And then I remember that Ed used to go out with Fiona. It was about nine years ago; right before Ed and I got together. Fiona and Ed were pretty serious for a while, and I’ve always had the feeling that she wishes it hadn’t ended. Not that she’s ever said anything, but she’s always far too friendly towards my husband, in a proprietorial, shared-history kind of way that gets my back up. Not that she and Nathan don’t seem happy. She’s always going on about how wonderful he is and how they’re soulmates. Only it’s never really rung true for me. It’s like they’re the image of how a perfect couple should be, yet something is missing.
Even though they’re just thoughts, I hate feeling so bitchy. I like Fiona, of course I do. We’ve known one another since we were kids. But there’s always going to be that distance between us because of Ed. Maybe she’s jealous of me. But would she really go as far as to try to ruin my marriage with a few photos?
I think back to the night in question, when we were at that club. It was Fiona’s birthday and Nathan was out of town on business, so she’d arranged a girls’ night out. It wasn’t really Kelly’s scene at all, but she agreed to it because Fiona pretty much forced her to go. I’m sure I was only invited because Kelly asked if I could come too – probably for moral support, because she’s not that comfortable around Fi’s clients and work buddies. Although the three of us are supposedly all best friends, I have the feeling that if it weren’t for Kelly, then Fiona and I wouldn’t be friends at all.
In the end, I remember having a pretty good night at the club – lots of dancing and laughing. Although Kelly and I spent a good chunk of the evening trying to avoid Creepy Barton, the local dentist. He kept dancing up against us in this really cheesy way and offering to buy us drinks. I wonder if it could have been him in the photos. Please, God, no. The very thought of it makes me nauseous. But I get the feeling it wasn’t me he was interested in that night, it was Kelly. He was as subtle as a brick when he asked her how she was coping on her own with the kids. He said if she ever needed to talk he was a good listener. Which is the biggest load of rubbish I’ve ever heard, because there’s nothing Paul Barton likes more than the sound of his own voice.
Aside from Barton, Fiona was annoyingly judgemental that night, just because I decided to have a couple of drinks – okay, maybe more than a couple. She told me several times that I’d had enough, that I was making a show of myself, that I should calm down. I frown, remembering that we had a kind of mini argument. Yes, I remember it now – she said something about pitying Ed. Ugh, how dare she! Just because I know how to have fun. Fiona has never been able to let loose – she’s wound up tighter than one of Leo’s curls. But, then again, maybe she kind of had a point, because the end of the night is definitely a blur.
; Seriously, could Fiona really have had something to do with the photos? She’s been behaving oddly recently. Only last week, I saw her in town and waved, but she acted like she hadn’t seen me and went into a shop. Ninety-nine per cent sure she did see me though.
I realise I’ve completely zoned out from Ed’s conversation. I tune back in to his story about a local TV presenter who was in the pub last night. I nod and make the appropriate listening noises until he finishes talking.
‘Why did Fiona end things with you?’ I ask.
‘Why did what?’ Ed jerks his head up. ‘What made you think about that?’
I shrug. ‘It just popped into my head. I don’t think you ever told me why it never worked out between you two.’
‘I don’t know. But it’s all ancient history now. Do we really have to go into it?’
‘No, course not. I’m curious, that’s all.’
‘It just didn’t work out. She was too stand-offish and cold. Our relationship never really got going in the first place.’
‘But she finished with you, right?’
‘Way to make a guy feel good!’ Ed flicks my arm playfully.
‘Sorry!’ I manage a short laugh. ‘But she did, yeah?’
‘She said she cared about me, but she’d met someone else. I was relieved, to be honest. I’d been wanting to break it off, but I didn’t want to hurt her.’
I twirl a strand of hair around my finger. ‘That must have been when she met Nathan.’
‘Yeah, those two are perfect together. Both really ambitious and career-driven.’
‘You’re ambitious too!’
Ed leans forward to kiss me. ‘I love my job, but I wouldn’t say I’m ambitious. I’m more of a family man than a career man.’
I slide across to sit on his lap and wrap my arms around his broad back. ‘I love you, Mr Perry.’
‘Love you too, Mrs Perry.’
As we kiss and I run my fingers through his hair, I make the decision that I’ll do whatever it takes to ensure that whoever it was who sent those photos will never come between me and my husband. My family means too much to me to let someone else’s twisted agenda destroy my life.
One of Us Is Lying: A totally gripping psychological thriller with a brilliant twist Page 8