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

by Shalini Boland

  I spoon some salad leaves onto my plate for something to do. ‘It’s probably nothing. Just a random spot-check thing, but… I’m having a tax audit.’

  He frowns and nods. ‘A tax audit? Okay, that’s fine. When are they coming?’

  ‘They’re already here. Two of them. They arrived on Wednesday, but I didn’t get a chance to tell you.’

  ‘What? So they’re already at Salinger’s?’

  ‘Yes. They’ve taken over my office.’

  ‘Hmm, that’s not good.’ He leans back in his chair and scratches his cheek. ‘How long are they going to be there for? Did they give you an idea of timescales?’

  ‘It can take days or weeks. They can’t be more specific unfortunately.’ I know I should tell him the rest, but I can’t bring myself to do it. Maybe the inspectors won’t find anything, and they’ll simply leave. Then things can go back to how they were before. But I realise I’m kidding myself. I’m in a financial mess and there’s no way to get out of it without telling Nathan the whole story. Just… not tonight.

  ‘Right, well, you’ve got nothing to hide, have you?’

  I shake my head. ‘Nothing that springs to mind.’

  ‘Good. So it’ll be fine. Just do everything they ask. Be really helpful, and they’ll eventually leave. Do they work evenings?’

  ‘No. They leave when I leave.’

  ‘Good. That’ll give you a chance to go and check what they’ve been up to.’

  Nathan seems remarkably calm, for which I’m grateful. I thought he might blame me. I thought it might lead to us getting into a fight and him getting angry. I allow my shoulders to relax and unclamp my jaw. My appetite has even come back. I try a small bite of the salmon – not bad, though I say it myself. I allow myself a few more mouthfuls before setting my knife and fork down on the plate.

  ‘You’ve got such a tiny appetite, Fi.’ He gives me an appreciative smile. ‘Not like your friends – Kelly and Tia eat like pigs.’ He chuckles. Even though Nathan likes home-cooked meals, he isn’t too keen on me eating them myself. Not that he says anything specifically. It’s more a feeling I get. Consequently, I’ve trained myself to eat really small portions.

  ‘I really don’t know what you see in those two,’ he continues. ‘I know you were all friends at school, but they don’t really fit into your life any more, do they?’

  ‘They’re my oldest friends,’ I protest. But, thinking about it, he’s right about Tia. We have nothing in common any more.

  ‘Well, I think you should cut them loose. Make some new friends – ones who’ll be good for your business.’

  ‘Maybe… but it’s nice having friends who aren’t linked to work.’

  ‘If you say so.’ He shrugs.

  I wait for him to finish his plate and start clearing the table while he goes through to the lounge and switches on the TV. Once I’m done and the kitchen is immaculate once more, I slip off my heels and follow him through to the lounge, where I snuggle up next to him on the sofa.

  ‘What do you fancy watching tonight? A series or a movie?’ I ask.

  Nathan leans away from me and gives me an enquiring look. ‘What are you doing, Fi?’

  A chill slides down my back. I know that tone. I knows he’s trying to catch me out. Think, think. What have I done to annoy him? What have I forgotten? ‘I… Sorry, Nath, did you want something else? Tea? Some dessert?’ Even though Nathan never eats dessert, I try to think what I could whip up. Maybe a fruit salad… or I could nip to the shops. Maybe Kelly’s got something. She’s bound to have a freezer full of desserts for the boys.

  ‘You don’t think you get to sit and watch TV when you’ve screwed-up so badly,’ Nathan sneers.

  My heart is pounding now. Knocking so violently against my ribcage that it actually hurts. Nathan’s eyes are stony. I’m so stupid. Why did I have to tell him what’s going on with the tax audit? I should have kept it to myself. ‘No, of course not.’ I jump to my feet. ‘I’ll… I’ll go to bed.’

  ‘Bed?’ He shakes his head and smiles incredulously. ‘No time for sleep, Fi. You’re going to have to head back to the office and go through your accounts with a fine-toothed comb. You need to make sure your business is squeaky clean.’

  ‘It is, Nathan. You don’t need to worry on that score.’ I can’t think about the reality of the situation. I can’t give Nathan a hint of the truth – that the legitimacy of my business is balanced on a knife edge. That any day now the auditors could come across a receipt that will tip them off to what I’ve been doing.

  ‘It better be clean. Because I can’t afford any hint of a scandal. I work in finance, Fi. Finance. I won’t have us the subject of gossip. I won’t have my reputation dragged through the mud. Is that clear?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Of course.’ He mimics my nervous tone, shakes his head and laughs. ‘Go on then. Off you trot. And don’t think about coming back until you’ve checked and double-checked every single piece of paper in that office.’

  I stumble out of the room with the taste of salmon en croûte in my throat and the acidic burn of white wine in my gullet. Nathan isn’t going to let this drop until the auditors have given my business the all clear. But I’m not sure that’s ever going to happen.

  Nineteen

  KELLY

  With trembling fingers, I open the front door as far as it will go with the chain attached. I peer out to see a man standing a couple of paces back, illuminated beneath the security light. Despite the warmth of the evening, he’s wearing a navy hoodie and a baseball cap. His eyes are blue, and he looks to be somewhere in his twenties. His face isn’t one I recognise.

  ‘Hello?’ My voice sounds calmer than I feel.

  ‘Hi.’ He shifts from one foot to the other and rubs at the dark stubble on his chin.

  ‘Can I help?’ I smile but it feels fake, so I stop.

  ‘Sorry to disturb you.’ His voice is soft and deep. ‘I’m looking for someone.’

  This must be the man Sophie has run away from. I wonder what he did to her. ‘Oh?’

  ‘It’s my wife…’

  I wait for him to go on. Looking closer, I notice that his eyes are a little bloodshot.

  ‘It’s just… she’s missing. She’s been missing for a few days… so I’ve been knocking on doors all over town asking if anyone’s seen her.’

  I wasn’t expecting this. I thought the person looking for Sophie would be somewhat rougher. Angrier. More intimidating somehow. But maybe that’s his plan. Maybe he’s trying to appear nice to lull me into a false sense of security, so that I’ll give Sophie up.

  I flinch as he pulls something out of his hoodie pocket. But then I realise it’s just a phone. He taps the screen a couple of times and holds it out. ‘This is my wife. This is Sophie. Don’t suppose you’ve seen her?’ He swallows. ‘I’m really worried for her safety. She has a few issues.’

  Issues? The photo on the phone is indeed one of Sophie. She’s standing in a sunny garden, the light shining on her face. She’s radiant; smiling at the person taking the photo. I really want to ask him about the issues he’s talking about. I want to question this man about Sophie and what he’s done to make her so afraid of him. But I can’t let him know that I’ve seen her. That she is, in fact, staying in my attic. So I frown and shake my head. ‘She doesn’t look familiar. Is she from around here?’ I wonder if my lies are convincing.

  He looks disappointed, his shoulders sagging. He massages his temple. ‘We live just outside town. Sophie disappeared some time during Tuesday night. It was weird – I woke up and she was gone. But she wouldn’t just leave like that, not without saying anything. We’re in love. We have a great relationship. Something must have happened…’ He puts the phone back in his pocket and starts scratching his forearm. ‘So? Are you sure you haven’t seen her?’

  ‘Sorry, I don’t think so, no.’

  ‘Think hard. Maybe you passed her in town, or on the street. She’s not a forgettable person.’ His eyes are b
oring into mine. I’m convinced he must know I’m lying.

  ‘Like I said, I’m sorry, but I’ve never seen her before. Have you been to the police? Reported her missing?’

  ‘They’re useless. I know they don’t believe me. They think she must have left willingly. But she wouldn’t do that.’

  I find it interesting that he’s saying he’s reported her missing to the police. I wonder if he really has. Because if he’s been abusive towards her, then would he really go to the police? But then again, other people’s issues are often more complicated than they first seem. There are always two sides to every story. Not that there’s any excuse to treat another person badly, but the man before me seems so sincere.

  He pulls something else out of his pocket. It looks like a piece of scrunched-up paper, but then I see it’s actually a small pile of paper slips. He hands one to me. ‘Here’s my name and phone number, in case you see her. Even if you’re unsure whether it’s my wife or not, will you call me? Because I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, not until I know she’s okay.’

  ‘Uh, sure.’ I glance at the slip and see the name Greg followed by some scribbled digits.

  ‘Greg.’

  He nods.

  ‘What’s your last name?’

  ‘Jones.’

  ‘Greg Jones? And your wife is called Sophie? So, Sophie Jones, yeah?’

  His eyes narrow.

  ‘In case I see her.’

  His shoulders relax. ‘I’m really worried for her safety. I feel like I’m in a nightmare.’

  If I didn’t know better, I’d swear he was telling the truth. ‘If I see her I’ll call you.’ The lie catches in my throat and I cough.

  ‘Thanks,’ he mutters.

  ‘Good luck.’ I swallow.

  He fixes me with a final, piercing stare that quite unnerves me. Then he nods and walks away.

  I close the door and realise that my whole body is shaking. That I can hardly breathe. I only hope I managed to keep my nerves hidden well enough from him, because if he suspects Sophie’s here, I don’t know what he’ll do. Maybe everything he said about going door to door was a lie. Maybe he already knows she’s here. He could possibly have spotted her through the window at some time over the past day. I rush back into the lounge and stare critically at both windows – the curtains are fully drawn with no gaps, and the blinds are closed behind them. I’m sure there’s no way he could see anything through there.

  But what about while I was out at work? Perhaps Sophie walked past an exposed window without thinking. Or maybe one of the kids let something slip at school? This is stupid. My imagination is running away. If he’s a dangerous person and he knows she’s here, he would have tried to force his way in. Surely he would have seemed more threatening and mean, but he just seemed worried and exhausted.

  I’m tempted to peer out of the window to see if Greg really is going door to door. But I’m too nervous to look. What if he’s standing outside and watching the house? The thought makes me shiver.

  ‘Kelly…’ It’s Sophie calling down quietly from the top of the stairs. ‘Was it him? Has he gone?’

  ‘Stay up there,’ I hiss. ‘He could still be outside.’

  ‘Oh my God, it was him wasn’t it? How did he know I was here? How did he find me?’

  ‘Shh. Let me just check the back door’s locked and then I’ll come upstairs.’

  ‘Be careful, Kelly. He’s not a nice man.’

  At her words, my heart knocks uncomfortably in my chest and I start to think that I must be crazy for inviting this drama into my home. But then my mind swings back to Sophie and how, without my help, Greg might have found her and taken her back to whatever it was she’s trying to escape from.

  I wish Michael was still alive. He’d know exactly what to do. Ever since he died, I feel like every decision I’ve made has been the wrong one. Like my judgement is off. I never used to feel like this. Then again, I know that he wouldn’t have approved of taking in this girl in the first place. But Michael is gone. And Sophie needs my help. So I’m going to have to live with my decision and continue doing what I think is best.

  The back door is locked, as I knew it would be. I go from room to room checking the ground-floor windows, and they’re all locked too. So unless Greg tries to smash his way in, I think we’re secure. I’m hoping he doesn’t know for sure that Sophie is here, and that it’s like he says and he’s simply knocking on doors, trying his luck. One thing’s for certain though – this situation can’t continue. I’m going to have to persuade Sophie to either call the police or seek help elsewhere. Now that a potentially dangerous man has shown up on our doorstep, I can’t risk exposing my children to harm.

  I take a determined breath and walk upstairs to the attic room, where Sophie is sitting in the dark, on the edge of the bed, a hunched figure chewing at her fingers. She looks up as I walk in and switch on the light.

  ‘Does he know I’m here?’ She squints against the light.

  ‘I honestly don’t know. He said he was going door to door asking about you. He thinks you’re in danger.’

  Sophie scowls.

  ‘He said he’s your husband and that he’s scared for your safety. Is he really your husband?’

  She shrugs and then gives a reluctant nod.

  ‘And you want to leave him?’

  Another nod.

  ‘Has he been hurting you?’

  ‘I really can’t… I don’t want to talk about it.’ Her voice cracks.

  I sit on the bed next to her and take one of her hands in mine, giving it a squeeze. ‘I know this must be hard, but it’s possible he knows you’re staying here. It’s probably not safe—’

  ‘I get it.’ She snatches her hand away from mine. ‘You want me to leave.’

  ‘Hey, I didn’t say that.’

  Sophie stands and swipes away a tear from her cheek. ‘It’s fine. I’ll go.’

  ‘Sophie, I didn’t say that at all. And anyway, Greg’s probably still in the vicinity, so it really isn’t a good idea to leave the house right now. Especially not while you’re upset and it’s dark out there.’ I’m trying to keep my voice quiet so as not to wake Ryan and Sonny. The last thing I need is for them to come upstairs and ask what’s going on.

  ‘But me staying here isn’t fair on you. On your kids. You don’t know me. You don’t owe me anything.’

  ‘Listen, Sophie.’ I get to my feet again and try to stay calm. ‘Obviously you can’t stay here indefinitely. It’s not practical. And now that Greg may well have found you, it’s not necessarily safe. But it’s also not a good idea for you to go running off into the night with no plan to speak of.’

  She takes a deep breath. I can see it’s costing her everything to try to keep herself together.

  ‘The only alternatives I can see are to call the police and report your husband for whatever abuse he’s been inflicting on you.’

  ‘Not going to happen,’ she mutters.

  ‘Or, you let me find you a shelter where they’re used to helping people in your situation.’

  Her shoulders droop.

  ‘Look… let’s leave it for tonight. It’s getting late and I doubt there’s anything I can do right now. We’ll sort something out tomorrow, okay?’

  But tomorrow is the regatta and I can’t not go to that when Ryan is so looking forward to racing. This is the first time he’s shown enthusiasm about anything since his dad died. I have to give him my full attention tomorrow. This could be the start of getting my happy son back. And, actually, I may have Sophie to thank for that.

  ‘Why don’t you try to get a good night’s sleep. Things might seem clearer tomorrow. But I think it’s probably best if you don’t go downstairs or near any windows. Just in case anyone’s looking at the house. I can bring any food and drink up here for you.’

  ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to leave now? All I’ve done is bring trouble to your door.’

  ‘Not true,’ I insist. ‘The boys seem to like you, and you’re ac
tually no trouble at all as a house guest.’ The truth is that things would be simpler if she wasn’t here, and I can’t deny that the appearance of her husband has unnerved me more than a little. But what harm can one or two more days do? Although it’s risky, the urge to help this girl won’t go away. I’ll sort out alternative accommodation for Sophie on Sunday or Monday and that will be that. In the meantime, I’ll simply have to hope that Greg doesn’t show his face again.

  I’m just going to assume that he doesn’t already know Sophie is staying here. Because if he does, then we could all be in danger.

  Twenty

  TIA

  Ed’s at work and the kids are watching Toy Story. I’m squashed in between them on the sofa, trying to block out the TV noise while I attempt to straighten out my thoughts. But my mind is still a terrible jumble. I have no idea what to do or who to turn to for help over these hideous photographs. And I can’t ever seem to get any time to myself to make sense of it all. I tried escaping to the kitchen earlier, where it’s quieter, but Rosie and Leo took it in turns to come and ask me for one thing or another. So I figured I’d have fewer interruptions if we all sat together in the lounge. The TV could keep them entertained, giving me some time to think. I was wrong.

  ‘Mummy, my toys are naughty. They’re very messy all the time.’ Leo holds out his Buzz Lightyear figure and waggles his finger at it. ‘They make a big mess in my room so we have to tell them off.’

  ‘Well, then you’ll have to help Buzz tidy up,’ I reply.

  ‘It’s not Buzz,’ Rosie says knowingly. ‘You’re the one who makes all the mess, Leo.’

  ‘No I don’t! It’s Buzz. Not me!’

  ‘All right, you two. Are you going to be quiet and watch this film? Or shall we turn it off and have an early night?’

  ‘Watch the film,’ Leo says with a scowl, wriggling his bottom deep into the sofa.

  ‘Rosie?’

  She folds her arms across her chest and mumbles something about watching the film.