One of Us Is Lying: A totally gripping psychological thriller with a brilliant twist

by Shalini Boland

  ‘Right…’ Ed pulls away from our kiss and smooths my hair away from my face. ‘Much as I’d love to sit here all day snogging my hot wife, I have to go to work.’

  I scowl and blow a raspberry. ‘Spoilsport.’

  ‘Someone has to be the grown-up.’ He grins.

  ‘Better you than me.’ I jump up off his lap. ‘Those children are being scarily quiet. Better go and see what’s happening.’

  ‘Stay here if you like. I’ll go and check on them,’ Ed says. ‘I want to say goodnight before I leave.’

  ‘Okay, thanks, babe. Have a good night.’

  Ed goes next door and I hear him chatting to the children before he leaves for work. I sit back down at the kitchen table and take a sip of my tea, but it’s already gone cold. Now that Ed’s gone, the anxiety I’m feeling ramps up even more. Aside from being scary, this thing has the potential to completely ruin my life.

  I can’t go to the police, because that would risk Ed finding out. My brother Ash is a cop, but he has strong morals and might not believe I’m telling the truth. I’ve always been a bit of a rebel and I wouldn’t blame him for thinking the worst of me. Even though I would never do anything like that. My family is sacred to me. No, I’ll have to get to the bottom of this without his help. I did send Kelly a couple of texts earlier to meet up for a chat…

  I think I’m going to risk confiding in her. She’s always so caring and non-judgemental. She’ll know what to do for the best. I should probably wait until later when the children are in bed, but I can’t spend another moment with all these worries swilling around in my brain. I pick up my phone and call Kelly’s number. Even if we can’t talk properly now, I can ask if she’ll come over for a chat, maybe even for dinner. She could bring the boys over. Ryan and Sonny are never any trouble. Annoyingly, her phone goes straight to voicemail. But that’s fine, I’ll get hold of her eventually, and when I do, she’ll help me to come up with a plan. A way to get out of this mess.

  But, even as I strengthen my resolve and try to act more positively, I can’t help feeling that things are slipping and sliding out of my control. That if I don’t do something soon, the life I’ve built will fall away, and I’ll be left with nothing.

  Thirteen

  Friday

  KELLY

  Derek has left me a box of jewellery to display on the counter. The pieces are delicate and pretty – a golden dragonfly brooch, several twisted silver rings and various coloured bracelets and clip-on earrings. As I attempt to hook them onto the stand, I wonder about their previous owner. Did the person grow tired of the pieces or was it someone who died and had no one to leave them to? Did they originally buy the pieces for themselves? Or were they perhaps gifts from a loved one? I often do this with donations – wonder about each item’s history, but it always makes me feel a little melancholy.

  I could really have done with giving work a miss today. I texted a few other volunteers, but there was no one free to take over my shift and, whatever else I have going on in my life, I don’t like to let my boss down. He relies on all his volunteers. Profits from the shop go towards local charities – the hospital, the lifeboat association, families in need and lots of other worthy causes. I wonder if perhaps Sophie could benefit from some of the proceeds. I’ll have to discuss it with Derek.

  Sophie is still at the house. I haven’t had the chance to talk to her about getting some help, and I couldn’t very well throw her out onto the street. With any luck, I should have some time this evening to sit down properly with her and have a serious discussion about how best to help. I’ll pop back home during my lunch break too. Make sure she’s okay.

  The shop is quiet this morning. I’ve only had a couple of browsers in so far. My thoughts swing back to my children, and to the crazy rumour that I kissed Sonny’s teacher, Mr Llewellyn. It’s all nonsense of course. Just bored kids trying to cause trouble. Sonny told me that everyone at school is talking about it. Poor Ryan. If his friends were teasing him about his mum kissing a teacher, then no wonder he flipped out in the classroom. Especially as he misses his dad so much. I hope he realises there’s no truth to it.

  I did try to talk to Ryan last night, but all I got in return were monosyllabic answers. I asked him if this rumour was the reason he was rude to his teacher, but he just clammed up. At least he didn’t kick up a fuss about going in to school this morning. I hate the fact that I can’t seem to get through to my eldest son these days. He’s shutting me out. I wish Michael were here. He would know how to jolt him out of it.

  I have to admit, the rumour really shook me up too. Sent my thoughts racing back to that day at school all those years ago. I shiver, not wanting to think about that time. We’ve all managed to put it firmly behind us. This silly gossip is just an unfortunate coincidence.

  The shop door swings open, rattling the bell and distracting me from my worries. I look up. It’s Tia and Leo. I guiltily remember that Tia left a message for me to call her yesterday and I never got back to her. I was too preoccupied with everything and the message went out of my head.

  Tia is one of those people who always manages to look effortlessly beautiful. She doesn’t dress expensively like Fiona, yet all her clothes just seem to look perfect on her. If you didn’t know her well you would say that today is no exception: her dark curls are wild, her print dress and sandals are cool, and her caramel skin is flawless. But Tia is one of my best friends, and I can tell that something isn’t quite right. There’s a tightness in her face and a few wrinkles in her dress. Her eyeliner is lopsided, and Leo (who normally looks like a child from a kids’ clothing advert) is wearing mismatched sandals and it looks like his shorts are on back-to-front.

  ‘Hi, Aunty Kelly, I got a lolly.’ Leo waves an orange lolly at me before shoving it back in his mouth.

  ‘That looks yummy.’

  He nods vigorously.

  ‘Hi, Kels,’ Tia says wearily. ‘How’s it going?’

  ‘Fine.’ I give her a quick hug and briefly wonder whether I should confide in her about Sophie. But I promised I wouldn’t say anything to anyone, and I like to think of myself as trustworthy. It’s always the way that if you tell one person a secret, then they end up telling one other person and eventually the secret gets out. No. I’ll stay silent. And anyway, if I told Tia the truth about everything that’s going on in my life, we’d be here all week. Plus I don’t want to burden her with my own problems; not when she seems so preoccupied and also a little down. ‘How are you doing?’

  ‘Oh, you know… It’s… well…’ She shakes her head and stares down at her feet.

  ‘Tia, what’s wrong?’

  At that moment the door tinkles, and a group of women come into the shop, chatting and laughing. Tia gives a forced laugh. ‘It’s nothing. I’m fine. Probably hormones or something.’

  I lower my voice. ‘You and Ed okay?’

  ‘Yeah, we’re fine.’ Her voice cracks. ‘Leo, don’t touch that, your fingers are sticky.’

  Her cheeky son is under the table rummaging through a basket of toys.

  ‘He’s fine, don’t worry about it. It’s all second-hand stuff,’ I say.

  ‘Sorry, thank you. Actually, I was wondering if you had time for lunch?’ She must sense my reluctance, because she puts her palms together and begs me with a puppy-dog look in her eyes.

  I feel so bad for saying no, but I have to get back to check on Sophie. ‘Tia, you know I’d love to, but there’s some stuff I have to take care of at lunchtime. Could we maybe meet a bit later instead? What about this evening?’

  ‘I really need to talk to you, Kels. Just a quick sandwich at Ida’s? I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.’ Her eyes glisten as though she’s about to cry.

  Guilt tugs at my chest. My friend needs me. ‘Yes, of course, okay.’

  She exhales. ‘Thank you!’

  Maybe I’ll have time to race back home to check on Sophie for a few minutes after our lunch. ‘Is twelve too early?’

  ‘Twelve is pe
rfect. Thanks, Kels. I really do appreciate it.’

  An older lady comes up to the counter asking to try on a dress.

  ‘I’ll leave you to it.’ Tia kisses my cheek and tries to coax Leo away from the toys. Eventually she waves goodbye and I receive a sticky hug from Leo. I’m panicking about how I’m going to fit everything into my forty-five-minute lunch break, but I’m soon forced to turn my attention back to work. The shop appears to have filled up and there are people everywhere, rummaging through the rails and peering in all the baskets. I manage to make a few decent sales, so at least Derek will be pleased. It makes me happy too. The more money we raise, the better it is for our little community.

  Half an hour later the shop has emptied out again. It looks like a tornado has whipped through the place. Why did I agree to have lunch with Tia today? There’s no way I’ll be able to make it home to see Sophie as well as having time for a chat with my friend. I’ll have to skip the home visit and trust that Sophie will be okay on her own all day. I’m sure she’ll be fine. I had to leave her alone yesterday and nothing bad happened. I should stop worrying about it.

  Sophie doesn’t have a mobile phone, but I gave her my number and told her to use the landline to call me if she needs to. I wonder whether I should call the landline now to let her know that I won’t be home until later. But I’m not sure she’d even answer it. And what if she gets freaked out by the phone ringing? No. I’ll leave it.

  I tidy the shop, check my watch and see that it’s already eleven thirty. I’m antsy, fidgety. I feel useless, which is ironic because I volunteered here to feel more useful. I nip into the stockroom and fetch my phone. Hopping up onto the stool behind the counter, I do a Google search for missing persons called Sophie. I don’t even know her surname. As I type in her first name, I realise that it could very easily be fake. I never asked to see any ID. Although it didn’t look like she had anything on her anyway. She wasn’t carrying a bag or a purse. In fact, the more I think about it, the chances are that she probably has given me a different name.

  The Google search results show quite a few missing people called Sophie. There are Facebook posts and tweets of missing girls, and online news stories of families searching for loved ones all over the world. I click on the Images results and scroll through all the photos. It’s heartbreaking to see so many missing people. Where could they all have gone? But there are no pictures of the Sophie I know.

  The girl is still a mystery.

  Fourteen

  FIONA

  Molly’s at the reception desk updating the online diary. ‘Marion Scott called this morning about her bedroom curtain material. She wants you to go over with the swatches. But I can go instead, if you like? And the Carmichaels have rescheduled next weekend’s appointment. I told them a week tomorrow at three is fine. Hope that’s okay?’ She’s being surprisingly helpful and perky. In fact, Molly’s been acting like a different person all morning, humming and walking around with a bounce in her step and generally being super-helpful.

  ‘Sounds good.’ I peer over her shoulder at today’s schedule. ‘Yes, if you could go over to Marion’s that would be a real help. She lives up at—’

  ‘It’s okay, I’ve got her address. Milham Drive, out by the lake.’

  ‘That’s right. She’ll probably want to go for the voile, but steer her towards something heavier – she’ll thank me once winter hits.’

  ‘No problem.’

  I think that’s the first time Molly’s ever said ‘no problem’ to me. How come she isn’t always like this? I would have loved to work with this Molly. I guess she’s excited about her pregnancy and upcoming wedding. Although, call me cynical, she also said she wants to carry on working once she’s settled into her new town and had the baby, so she’ll be needing a good reference from me. That’s possibly the most likely reason for her sudden turnaround in attitude.

  Well, I shouldn’t complain. At least I’ll have a willing assistant for the next four weeks. After that, who knows? I should probably start advertising for someone new, but I don’t even know where to start. There’s so much else going on that finding a new employee is the least of my worries. I slope reluctantly back into the showroom, glancing across at my two biggest problems – namely Cathleen and John. I wonder again if Molly might be the reason they’re here. Would she really be that vindictive; to jeopardise my whole career just because I can be a bit of a hard-ass at work?

  Cathleen and John are still beavering away in my office, periodically calling me in to answer questions about various transactions and receipts. Thank goodness I’ve been efficient at filing things away properly. But that still doesn’t stop my stomach lurching in fear every time one of them pops their head out of the door to speak to me, worrying about what they may have stumbled across. So far, there have been no nasty surprises. Touch wood.

  As expected, they commandeered my office all day yesterday, leaving work at the same time as me. I even stayed a bit later than usual in the hope that they’d knock off at five and I could have some time to myself, but they showed no sign of departing until I did. Consequently, I went home and then returned an hour later to have a snoop. I was paranoid they’d be camped outside the showroom waiting to catch me out, but there was no sign of them or their car. I don’t know what I expected to find in there, but my nose around the office didn’t yield anything. I wasn’t really that surprised. It’s inevitable that they’d keep all their notes on their laptops and not lying around for me to discover.

  Molly bustles into the showroom, distracting me from my thoughts. ‘Okay, that’s all the messages answered, and your appointments are all up to date. You don’t have any appointments today until your meeting with Kay Clarke at four.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘You know, she’s that local furniture maker who emailed asking to talk to you.’

  ‘Oh, yeah, I remember. That’s great, Molly. Thanks.’

  ‘Is there anything else you want me to do before I get on with sorting out the curtain swatches?’

  I almost want to laugh at Molly’s new helpful persona. Can’t she see how absurd this is after her complete apathy and indifference to the job? We both turn at the sound of the main door opening.

  ‘Hello! Anyone around? Fifi, you here?’

  Ugh, I recognise that voice.

  ‘Want me to speak to him?’ Molly asks, continuing to be uncharacteristically helpful. ‘I could tell him you’re not here, if you like?’

  I can’t say I’m not tempted to take her up on her offer. ‘No, it’s fine. He’ll keep coming back to bug me if I don’t see him now.’ Taking a deep breath, I leave the showroom and walk into reception with a tired smile. ‘Hello, Paul.’

  In his late forties, Paul Barton is sporting a blue-check shirt, chinos and loafers, a bit of a change from his usual white coat. ‘Fifi, you’ve been avoiding me. Don’t think I didn’t see you sneaking off down that side street yesterday. I’m offended.’ He puts his hand to his heart, then runs a hand through dyed-brown hair that looks like it belongs on a Lego character.

  I give him what I hope is my most bemused look whilst swearing in my head.

  Paul owns the dental surgery next door. If it were possible, I’d ban him from ever coming in here. He irritates the hell out of me. Unfortunately he’s been my dentist since I was a kid and still insists on calling me Fifi, as that was what my parents used to call me – and often still do. It’s one thing for my mum to call me by my childhood nickname, but it’s another for this twerp to use it. I’ve told him countless times to call me Fiona, but he just won’t – I think he takes a perverse pleasure in winding me up – so I’ve given up correcting him. He’s only sixteen years older than me but because he knew me as a child, he still treats me like one.

  ‘Now, Fifi, have you had the opportunity to think about what we discussed?’

  ‘Look, Paul, I’m really quite busy today. Could we talk about this some other time, do you think?’

  He flashes me a polar-white grin
and slicks his hair back again. ‘That’s what you told me last time. But this is a time-sensitive deal, sweetheart. You’re going to miss out if you don’t act quickly. Bet you haven’t even mentioned it to that husband of yours. He’d tell you to snap my hand off. It makes good financial sense. You know it does.’

  A few months ago, Paul told me he wants to expand his dental practice and take over half of my premises. He said he’s prepared to pay me a lot for it. On the one hand, the money would be nice, and I don’t really need all this space. But the thing is, I like having room in which to spread out. It looks good for a prestige business like mine. Plus, my rent isn’t actually that high considering I’m smack bang in the centre of town. I can afford to keep the whole space, but if I took Paul up on his offer, I’d certainly save money. Only I might regret such a drastic decision.

  ‘Honestly, Paul, I’ll give it some serious consideration.’

  ‘You said that last time.’

  ‘How about I let you know by the end of the month, okay?’

  He pouts. ‘Fine. But come the first of August I’m withdrawing my offer and moving to the other side of town where there’s a nice big property just waiting for me to move in. And then it’ll be too late for you, capiche?’

  ‘Yeah, sure.’

  ‘Who are that lot in there?’ Paul nods in the direction of my office.

  That’s all I need – Paul Barton getting wind of my tax audit.

  His eyes narrow. ‘Hmm, grey suits going through your stuff.’ He wags his finger at me. ‘You been a naughty girl, Fifi?’

  Right now, I want to punch Paul Barton. Molly, who’s standing behind him, starts making violent stabbing motions at his back. She read my mind so clearly that I choke back a giggle.