The Honeymoon: An absolutely gripping psychological thriller

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The Honeymoon: An absolutely gripping psychological thriller Page 6

by Rona Halsall


  Of course, he was right, but that just made her more stroppy because when you’re tired there’s nothing worse than losing an argument. Eventually, she burst into frustrated tears and pushed his arms away before flopping onto the bed. He came to comfort her, caressing her hair in long, soothing strokes, just like her mother had when she was a child, and within minutes she was asleep.

  * * *

  The next morning, she woke to find that he was already up. Another disappointment. She swallowed the lump in her throat and listened. He was singing in the kitchen below and she lay there for a while, trying to get her equilibrium back on track.

  Remembering her pathetic behaviour the night before made her cringe. Christ, I was petulant. And needy. And whiny. All the things she hated. It wasn’t who she wanted to be but the smashing of her carefully constructed dream of her wedding day had completely thrown her. It seemed to be the story of her life. Reality never lived up to her fantasies and maybe that’s where she was going wrong. After all, there was no way she was perfect, so why should she expect her husband to be?

  If she was to salvage this honeymoon, it was time for a big dollop of realism. You love him, don’t you? She smiled to herself. Oh yes, she loved him more than she’d ever loved anyone. She loved him so much that the thought of not having him in her life physically hurt.

  Today is going to be different, she decided. We’re going to wipe the slate and start again.

  Slivers of sunlight shone through the shutters, flickering on the white walls of the bedroom. It was hypnotic and soothing, and she found herself relaxing, letting her anxieties ebb away. She was watching the shifting patterns on the wall when she heard Dan’s footsteps coming up the stairs, then he appeared in the doorway holding a tray.

  He grinned at her, a beautiful smile that lit up his face, and she felt herself melt into the mattress. He wasn’t annoyed with her. Not at all. ‘Good morning, Mrs Marsden. I trust you slept well?’

  She grinned back, grateful that her behaviour seemed to have been forgotten. ‘Yes, dear husband, I did.’

  ‘And are you ready for some breakfast?’

  ‘I am indeed.’

  He came and sat on the bed, carefully placing the tray between them while she shuffled up to a sitting position, aware that she was still in her underwear; he must have undressed her the previous night and put her to bed as she had no recollection of doing it herself. Don’t sweat the small stuff. She decided that would be her mantra during their honeymoon and she would let him be masterful if that made him happy, let him organise everything. Wasn’t that what she’d wished for so many times over the years – someone to look after her? How did she expect that to happen if she didn’t ease off and give the man room to take control? And why would she care that he’d slept in this house with another woman? She was in the past and Chloe was the only woman he wanted in his future.

  After a leisurely morning in bed, both of them relaxed and satiated, Dan suggested they go and explore the area and find somewhere for lunch.

  ‘There’s a few restaurants in the village, if I remember rightly. Lots of visitors come here because the sea is so shallow in the bay and the beach is perfect for kids. And then there’s the dunes to explore and loads of trails in the nature reserve. What do you fancy doing?’

  She gave him a lazy smile and looked into his eyes, her fingers caressing his cheek as they lay facing each other. She knew their relationship was going to need a bit of give and take to run smoothly. There was a lot still to learn and she was determined to enjoy the process of really getting to know him.

  ‘That sounds lovely. A bit of exploring. A bit of eating.’ She yawned. ‘I feel pretty wiped out today after all that rushing around.’

  ‘Well, there’s nothing to do. For once you have nobody to look after.’ He kissed her on the nose. ‘All you have to do is relax and enjoy yourself. I am at your beck and call this week. It’s all about you.’ He stroked her hair and smiled. ‘My gorgeous, lovely, wonderful wife.’

  His words were like a balm to her thoughts, soothing all the little worries away. She stretched like a cat, from the tips of her fingers to her toes.

  ‘Wow, I really stink.’ She wrinkled her nose.

  He laughed and nodded. ‘Yeah, you really do.’

  After showers then coffee on the patio enjoying the wonderful view, they finally decided to go in search of lunch. They were just about to leave the villa when Chloe stopped, seized by a sudden wave of guilt.

  ‘I just need to give Gran a quick call,’ she said, panicking that she hadn’t thought to do it sooner.

  Dan frowned and tried to pull her outside. ‘Can’t it wait? I’m so hungry I could eat a scabby donkey.’ His eyes pleaded with her and she wavered, but only for a moment, her memories of past wrongs dragging her back inside.

  She chewed at her lip. ‘I’m going to be in so much trouble.’ She could hear the panic in her voice, but that was nothing compared to the bedlam in her mind. ‘Honestly, I should have rung last night, just to make sure the carer turned up and everything was okay. I’d never forgive myself if anything happened while we’re away, and you know she hasn’t been so good recently.’

  She rummaged in her bag, trying to find her phone, and it took her a few minutes to realise it wasn’t there. She frowned and went back into the living area, Dan following her, an exasperated look on his face.

  ‘Please can we get something to eat and do this later?’

  ‘No. No, we can’t. I need to make sure she’s okay.’ He wouldn’t understand, she knew, because there were a lot of things she hadn’t told him and hoped he would never find out. But after what happened with her mum, she couldn’t take any risks. She was sweating now as her search became more frantic. What have I done with the damned thing? She was always very careful with her phone, given her carer role, knowing that she needed to be contactable in case of emergencies. She hadn’t used it since they’d left the UK, and could remember switching it off when she got on the plane.

  She ran upstairs and checked all the drawers, under the bed, anywhere she might have been, while Dan did his best to help.

  ‘I’ve lost it! I’ve lost my phone.’ She was close to tears now, her panic making her feel light-headed. She was sure it had been zipped into a little compartment inside her handbag. A compartment that she always fastened because she’d lost a few phones and purses while travelling. Now her routine came as second nature.

  He grabbed her arm as she hurried past on her way back downstairs to double-check. ‘Hey, calm down. You can use my phone, can’t you?’

  She realised that Dan was right. She didn’t need her phone to ring her gran, the number being etched in her memory. And anyway, they’d given the carer, who was being paid to look after her gran for the week, both of their phone numbers for exactly this eventuality. If there’d been a problem, they would have heard by now. The rational voice in her head carried on telling her that everything was fine, no need to have a meltdown about it. But something inside her refused to believe it.

  She’d done that before, listened to that very same voice, and it had been a lie, a terrible piece of misdirection, because things had been the opposite of fine.

  What if it happens again?

  Dan pulled her to him and stroked her hair as she rested her head on his chest. ‘Hey, sweetheart, no need to worry. I don’t know what the panic is.’

  No, and you never will, she thought as she pulled away, not able to look him in the eye. There was no way she could tell her new husband that she’d killed her mother. He never needed to know a thing like that.

  Ten

  Two weeks ago

  Chloe sat at the little desk in the corner of the lounge looking at her list of things to do as she rubbed at the muscles in her neck. To be fair, she’d managed to get an awful lot done in a couple of weeks, but there was only another fortnight until their wedding day. It was a mad timescale and she still couldn’t believe she’d let Dan talk her into it.

  He’
d come to see her during her lunchbreak the day after he’d proposed, looking like an excitable child. For her part, she was glowing with the sudden unbelievable romance of it all, the diamond engagement ring a novelty, surprising her when it caught her eye, making her smile.

  ‘I’m taking you out to lunch,’ he’d said, pulling her from her desk where she was about to tuck into an uninspiring ham sandwich, which she’d grabbed on the way to work.

  ‘Go on then,’ she’d said. ‘Can’t say no to my fiancé, can I?’

  He’d pulled her along the corridor and round the corner to a little coffee shop, where he’d sat her down before coming back with paninis and coffee. Chloe’s smile was so wide her cheeks were aching. She would have to admit that somewhere, in her heart, she’d imagined that he might change his mind, that he’d cool off once he realised what he’d done, tell her it had been a dreadful mistake.

  ‘I’ve got news,’ he’d said as he unloaded the tray and sat down opposite her.

  ‘Go on then.’ Chloe had bit into her panini, hungry after a morning of physical work.

  ‘I’ve booked the wedding.’

  She’d almost choked, and it took a moment of spluttering before she could sort herself out.

  ‘Oh my God. Where? When?’ A little voice had piped up in her head: Aren’t you supposed to involve me in this? But she’d shushed it because he was looking at her with such a proud smirk on his face. ‘Wow, you’re speedy! We haven’t even started talking about arrangements, have we?’

  He held up a hand in apology, but there was laughter in his voice. ‘I know. I probably should have asked you first, but Mum was so excited when I told her we were engaged, she went and asked the minister at the chapel where she’s on the committee and the minister said we could have Wednesday, 26 September.’

  Chloe’s mouth had hung open for a moment, her mind shocked into silence. ‘You are kidding me! That’s only a month away.’

  ‘I know. Couldn’t be better, could it?’

  She’d thought her heart might implode right then and there. She’d nodded, the speed of the whole thing and his obvious keenness to make her his wife having stolen her ability to speak. It was the exact opposite of her previous relationships, where she’d waited patiently and dropped subtle hints, which had been ignored until she’d had to accept the relationship was going nowhere. But Dan? He was determined to marry her; of that there was no doubt. Her face glowed, her heart pounding in her chest. In a month, I will be this man’s wife!

  ‘Fabulous,’ she’d said, grinning like a loon, ignoring the fact that she would have liked a say in the venue and the timing. ‘That’s perfect.’

  Now, sitting at the desk, she was a bit less thrilled because she’d seriously underestimated the amount of organisation that went into a wedding. Flowers and cakes and dresses and venues for the reception. Not to mention having to ask people at work to reorganise their time off so she could go on her honeymoon.

  Dan was shouldering some of the jobs, though, and had found a lovely restaurant for the reception. He had also produced his side of the guest list, which had precisely three names on it: his mother and her best friend and her husband, who were like an aunt and uncle to him. Apparently, it was too short notice for any of his friends to come, although Chloe was now wondering if he actually had any friends, because he’d never mentioned any that she could think of; it was something she was going to have to ask him about.

  On her side of the guest list, she was dithering. She’d asked friends from work, but only a couple were free. She sighed when she thought about the school friends that she was no longer in touch with. They knew what had happened with her mum, and her shame wouldn’t allow her to socialise with them anymore. She was in touch with a few on social media, but only in a superficial way. So, at the moment she too only had three people to invite, including her gran. It wasn’t quite shaping up to be the wedding she’d envisaged.

  The real question that was bothering her was whether she should ask her brother and sister and their respective families. Dan would expect her family to be there, wouldn’t he? But after the recent fracas, she wasn’t sure she could face them.

  She leant forwards, her head resting in her hands. She just didn’t know what to do. Could she cope with all those painful memories surfacing when she was about to get married, or after for that matter? Her eyes widened. What if they made a scene in front of Dan, told him exactly what they thought of her and why? They might come just to spoil the whole thing. The idea made her pulse start to race, and a sheen of sweat appeared on her forehead, damp beneath her fingers. If the truth came out, there wouldn’t even be a wedding.

  She sat up and made a decision, nodding to herself as she crossed their names off her list. Her past wasn’t going to be allowed at her wedding. Oh no, her marriage was opening a door to her future. A future where nobody was going to try and suffocate her with guilt. She would be free, at last, to be herself. And it was a door, she decided, that she was going to shut as soon as she walked through it. So, there it was: three people on either side, eight people in total, and wasn’t that a nice number for a wedding party?

  She picked up her phone and called Dan.

  ‘Hey, gorgeous,’ he said, which always made her want to laugh. Gorgeous? That was stretching things a bit, but she’d come to understand he genuinely meant it.

  ‘I’m just finalising invitations and there’s not going to be many of us. Just six guests.’

  ‘Perfect! I was dreading the idea of loads of people, but the short notice seems to have whittled numbers down, hasn’t it?’

  ‘I was just wondering if you have any friends you want to invite. Someone as a best man, maybe?’ She held her breath, curious.

  ‘No.’ His response was immediate and definite, leaving no room for argument, and she sat with her mouth open for a moment before she realised he’d moved the conversation on.

  ‘Sorry, I missed that. Can we just backtrack a moment, so I’m clear about guests? I’ve got Gran, Lou and Poppy, and you’ve got your mum and your aunt and uncle.’

  ‘Yep, that sounds about right. I was just saying that I’ve ordered my suit and I’m taking Mum to get her outfit at the weekend, so maybe we could all go together, and she could help you choose your wedding dress, given that your mum…’

  Chloe’s throat tightened, the connection between mums and wedding dresses unleashing a swirl of emotions that filled her chest. He was trying to be kind, she understood that, but the pain of her mum’s death stabbed at her heart. What she would give to have her mum there, seeing her get married, helping her with the organisation. How much fun it would have been.

  A sob stuck in her throat. It’s my fault that’s not going to happen. She couldn’t even get her gran involved as she disapproved of the whole thing.

  ‘You ridiculous girl!’ she’d exclaimed when Chloe had told her the news of her engagement. ‘You’ve only known him two minutes. What on earth is going on in that head of yours?’

  ‘I love him, Gran,’ she’d said, her face burning, her body rigid with anger. How dare she talk to me like that? Like I’m a child?

  Her gran had laughed then, but not in a nice way.

  The next day, when Chloe had told her the wedding date, she’d shaken her head, mouth working away as if she was having a whole conversation with herself, which she probably was – and her actions crushed the joy from Chloe’s heart. Her gran had refused to get involved in any discussions about the wedding, and Chloe wasn’t even sure if she’d be there on the day. Why can’t she just be happy for me? Chloe had thought. But she knew why. Her gran didn’t want to see her happy because she didn’t think she deserved it. There, she’d said it, even if it was just in her head. But she was sure she was right.

  Sod my family, she decided. I don’t need them. Not now I’ve got Dan. They’d make their own family, his mum would become her mum – not a replacement but better than not having a mother at all – and she’d make sure that her kids never suffered the f
eelings of guilt that had plagued her life.

  ‘Yes,’ she said to Dan, imagining shopping with his mum, who was very excited about the whole thing. ‘That sounds lovely. I could do with some help.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Of course. It’ll be fun.’

  That’s what she liked about Dan. Her happiness was important to him, and surely that was a good basis for their marriage, whatever her gran might say.

  After they’d finished the call, she sat at the desk thinking that this was the first night since they’d met that they hadn’t spent together. Not because he didn’t want to see her but because she had wanted a bit of time to herself. To sort out wedding arrangements, she’d told him, but really, she’d wanted a bit of space to think.

  Was she having second thoughts?

  After she’d got engaged, everyone she’d told had been shocked. She could see it in their faces, even though they expressed their delight for her. They all had reservations, although nobody said so outright. It was there in their eyes, caught in snippets of overheard conversations. And then, when she announced she was going to be married just two months after meeting Dan, well, the comments had become a little more pointed: Are you sure you’re not rushing it? How can you organise a wedding in a month? You’re not pregnant, are you? On and on, questioning her, chipping away at her confidence, at her certainty that this was what she wanted.

  She got up from the desk and went to run a bath, throwing in a bath bomb of essential oils to soothe her mind. She stepped into the water, breathing in the beautiful aroma as she sank into the bubbles.

  Am I rushing things? She lay back and closed her eyes.

  Well, there was no doubt that everything had happened very quickly, but did that make it rushed? Or did it just mean there was a natural rhythm to it? Everything had fallen into place so easily, she felt that it was proof that it was the right thing to do.

  Do I love him?

  Oh yes. There was no question in her mind. But was her gran right? Could she really know she loved him after only a few weeks, or did real love take longer to ferment? Was this an infatuation that would wear off? She sighed and sank lower in the water. Her love for Dan was all-consuming, it had devoured her, and she couldn’t conceive of a life without him. The sun shone brighter, everything tasted sweeter, looked more beautiful when she was with him. Was it wrong to want more of that?

 

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