“Liz?” He kept his voice soft. “Liz, are you feeling OK?”
She stopped scouring and turned slowly to face him. Although there was a bright smile on her face, the sparkle in her dark eyes made him feel more than a little uneasy.
“I’m feeling great. I’ve nearly finished the kitchen. Just the floor to do, then I can relax. Your tea’s over there.”
Jeremiah sat down warily at the table and tried to decide how best to broach the subject. He took a sip of his tea and decided to get right to the point:
“Liz. Why haven’t you been taking your pills?”
She was standing, not moving, gazing at him in that unblinking, disconcerting way she sometimes had.
“I haven’t needed them for a while.” Her voice was gently persuasive. “Drink your tea before it gets cold.”
He dutifully took another sip. He was beginning to feel more relaxed about the whole thing.
“Is this decaf, Liz?” She nodded and moved a little closer. “It’s just that it tastes a bit bitter,” he continued, swallowing another mouthful. Best not to irritate her. “But it’s really refreshing me,” he added.
“Drink up. It’ll do you good.”
“Mmmm.” He obliged. He felt his concentration beginning to wander. “Where was I?”
“You were asking me about my pills. I was saying I didn’t need them.” Her voice seemed a little harsher now and began to echo inside his head.
He tried to keep his mind on the question in hand.
“But you do need them, Liz. You know you have to keep taking them until the doctor says you need to stop. You can’t decide when to stop.” He was finding it hard to speak. His words seemed to be slurred and his view of Liz a little hazy.
All of a sudden, she seemed very close. Her voice echoed in his ear.
“Are you tired, Jez? Would you like to sleep?”
He tried hard to focus on her and on what else he had to ask. What was it? Oh yes. The sleeping tablets. They had been in the cupboard too, but had now disappeared. He heard his voice, but it sounded as though it was outside his body. As though someone else was speaking. God, he felt so tired. Even as he asked his final question, he already knew the answer.
“Liz? Where are the sleeping tablets?”
He felt himself slipping forward as she started to laugh. The last thing he saw was the tiles coming up to meet him as he hit the floor.
Allie stretched out on the bed and picked up a magazine. The cover promised to tell you if your man was ‘cheating on you’, as well as to judge whether you could ‘trust your best friend’. She smiled: now she knew Paul wasn’t cheating on her, life had become a lot more straightforward. Until he’d walked out, that was.
Pulling her thick towelling robe around her, she flicked through until she came to the friendship quiz. That should take her mind off things. After all: if she couldn’t trust Liz, then who could she trust? She chuckled to herself as she looked at the first question:
Would you trust your best friend to look after your children –
a. Only if there’s no alcohol in the house and your husband isn’t in.
b. Yes. They love her much more than they do you, because she spoils them so much.
c. Without question. You can always count on her.
It was one of those quizzes, she thought, as she ticked c without hesitation. Just from the first question, she could predict the answers: mostly a’s = the untrustworthy Best Friend with problems / mostly b’s = the control freak Best Friend / mostly c’s = the perfect Best Friend. And to think people got paid good money to write these things. She was in the wrong job.
She rolled over onto her stomach and carried on with the quiz. It was nice to have the luxury of doing something truly mindless for a change. The doctor had signed her off work for a couple of weeks, so she had neither preparation nor marking to occupy herself with. What bliss! Just reading, relaxation and maybe daytime TV. Not to mention her writing, which hadn’t progressed much in the last two weeks. She chewed the end of her pen, considering the best use of her time. Rest was, of course, her number one priority. But she would, if she were to be strict with herself, be able to set aside a few hours a day for her novel. Such a treat! She could feel her spirits beginning to lift. She grinned to herself as she leafed through the rest of her magazine. She was, reluctantly, beginning to see the funny side to her romantic predicament. At least she had plenty of raw material for any scene in her story involving her hero storming out on her heroine. In her life, it was getting to be a regular event.
Liz closed the door carefully behind her and looked both ways before crossing the street. After all, you could never be sure who was watching you. Curtains might twitch, interfering neighbours might put two and two together and then she’d be in trouble. Or would she? She had done nothing yet, committed no crime. Just helped her unfaithful husband to get some rest. And now she was simply on her way to see her so-called best friend. Who wasn’t well. Who wasn’t well at all.
She began to walk up the path to Allie’s house, distracted for a moment by the colours around her becoming brighter all of a sudden. The gold of the heavy knocker shone out against the deep blue gloss paint of the door. It was so shiny, it blurred slightly as she put her hand up to it. The glare hurt her eyes, so she covered the brass with one hand as she lifted it gingerly with the other. The knock, in sharp contrast to the dazzling hues of the hot afternoon, was muffled, somehow muted. It sounded as though someone was tapping on a door far away, at the other end of a tunnel.
She waited for a moment, then reached into her pocket for the key. With one last quick glance over her shoulder, she let herself in and closed the door behind her. Leaning back against it, she felt relief begin to course through her veins. Her heart was thumping loudly in her chest. Now the bright colours had stopped, she was more aware of the sound and wondered if Allie could hear it too.
“Hello? James? Is that you?” Allie’s cheerful voice drifted down the stairs.
Liz took a deep, steadying breath and tried to make her voice sound as calm as she could.
“It’s me, Liz. Just popped over to see if you need anything.” She was pleased with how natural her voice sounded. How light and reassuring it seemed. “I’ll put the kettle on, shall I? Would you like tea or coffee?”
Allie’s voice echoed softly around the newly-decorated hallway.
“Tea, please. And Liz, could you bring my mobile up when you come, please? It’s in the kitchen, I think. Thanks.”
“No problem.” Liz moved slowly and deliberately towards the kitchen door, willing her heart to beat more quietly, willing her head to stop buzzing. “I’ll be right up,” she added.
She entered the kitchen and looked around in horror. To say it was messy was an understatement. Allie’s usual hastily-piled up clutter seemed to have taken on a life of its own and invaded every surface. To Liz, it looked as though someone had left in a hurry. She wrinkled her nose in thought as she put the kettle on, picked up Allie’s mobile phone, and went back out into the hall.
“Allie?”
“Yes?”
“Paul’s not still here, is he? I mean…. I’m not disturbing anything, am I?” She felt her mouth go dry with tension.
“No. He, er…. He went back to his flat earlier. Had some marking to do, or something like that. The kitchen’s a tip, isn’t it?”
“You can say that again.”
“Is my mobile in there? He might have sent me a text.”
“I’m still trying to locate it,” said Liz. “Be up in a minute. Would you like a biscuit with your tea?”
“If you can find any.”
“OK.”
She looked down at the phone in her hand as she walked slowly back into the kitchen. Turning on the radio to cover the noise of the handset coming to life, she pressed the ‘texts received’ key. Paul’s name appeared. She squinted as she scrolled through his message:
‘I’ve got to see you again. I was wrong to storm out. I only
got so angry because you mean more to me than life itself. I love you and will come by later. I can’t live without you. Sorry. Love, Paul. XX’
The ghost of a smile crept across her face as she hit the reply button. That had to be the most romantic text message she had ever seen. Her fingers moved expertly across the keyboard.
‘I never want to see you again. I love J. Don’t contact me anymore. I’m better off without a bastard like you. Goodbye.’
She hit send and waited for confirmation before quickly turning the phone off. Putting it down on the draining board, she picked up the whistling kettle and briskly poured hot water into the china teapot. Humming along to the radio, she opened the fridge in search of milk. She stopped humming when she caught sight of the array of food: all Allie’s favourites lined up for her. Now, who had done that? Someone who knew her very well, that was for sure. Could it be Paul, or James? Or maybe even Jeremiah? Which one of the many men in her life had committed this thoughtful act of love? She felt a bitter taste in her mouth as she thought of her own husband, loading a trolley in the local supermarket. For another woman’s pleasure.
Before she could stop herself, she had picked up the remainder of the cheesecake and put the whole dish into the lukewarm washing up water that was waiting in the bowl. The creamy froth immediately began to dissolve. On impulse she added a lump of Brie. She giggled as she watched it float to the surface. It quickly became an iceberg surrounded by vanilla mountains. She licked her lips.
She closed the fridge and tried, reluctantly, because the food thing had been fun, to concentrate on the job in hand. First, a little milk in the bottom of both cups. Then, the tea. That was it: just the right shade of brown. Next, the cups were placed onto a small wooden tray. Carefully. She didn’t want to spill any, and her hands had started to shake a little. Steadying her breathing, she opened a cupboard and pulled out a packet of shortbread biscuits, ‘Finest’, what else? And placed them onto the tray next to the cups.
Turning off the radio, she took another deep breath. Only three more jobs to carry out and she could put her plan into action. She knew she had to do them calmly and in sequence. The voices in her head were telling her. And they were getting louder.
The first thing she did was to reach down towards the plug for the fridge and yank it out. Whoever had bought that food for Allie would soon realise it meant nothing to her. She had, in fact, deliberately let it go bad. In her desperate state of mind, nourishment was not important. Of course.
Next, she slipped out a slim, plastic container from her pocket and emptied a small quantity of white powder into one of the cups of tea. That should send Allie off to sleep. And make Liz’s job quick and painless. After all, she didn’t want her to suffer, now, did she?
The third task was by far the easiest. So easy, she almost forgot to do it. She opened the washing machine and dropped Allie’s mobile phone into it, before setting it off. On delicates, naturally. Mobile phones were sensitive things. And Allie was in despair because her man had walked out on her. So, if she was just about to drown herself in her own bathwater, you would expect her to do a few odd things beforehand, wouldn’t you?
Chapter Fifteen
Paul whistled to himself as he pulled up at the service station. He locked the car doors and began to peruse the selection of flowers outside: carnations, lilies and chrysanthemums. By this time in the afternoon, they all looked a bit sad, as though they had wilted through sheer desperation at not having been bought. He quickly located what he wanted, a small bunch of red roses, and headed for the cash desk, grabbing a bar of chocolate on the way: 70% cocoa, Allie’s favourite. Just before joining the short queue, he picked up a box of strawberries. Luscious and ripe, he knew Allie would be unable to resist them. He was feeling optimistic. Surely, all he had to do was to apologise to her, then kiss her, for her to realise that they were made for each other. That they were meant to be together. As well as present her with a few of her favourite things, that was…
“Next! I said next!” The surly-faced assistant scowled up at him. He noticed she was called Karen and was, according to her badge, ‘happy to help.’
As he put his shopping down on the counter, her expression changed and she began to smile.
“Will there be anything else, sir?” she asked, her tone much softer now. “Would you like some champagne? It’s on special offer…” He smiled: it was obvious, after all, what he was up to. The items in his basket screamed out ‘apology to a woman’.
“It’d go nice with the strawberries,” continued Karen, “only £10.99.”
“OK,” he said, grinning. “I’ll take a bottle.”
She keyed in his purchases and gave him an inquisitive look:
“Have you got a loyalty card, sir?”
“No.”
“Would you like one?”
Someone in the queue behind him coughed gently. He sensed a slight urgency.
“No thanks,” he said, paying in cash. “I’m not really the loyal type.”
Karen’s eyes widened just a little and her smile disappeared.
“Next?” Her gaze was already directed at the next victim and the scowl had returned.
He shook his head as he turned to go. Some people had no sense of humour. That woman needed a change of job. Life really was too short not to have what you wanted.
He reached his car in two strides, placed his bag carefully onto the passenger seat and pulled away smoothly. He felt, strangely, as though he were walking on air. Or even flying.
He pulled out into the stream of afternoon traffic and inched forwards towards the next junction. Turning on the radio, he began to tap his fingers to the music. He felt alive again, on the cusp of something momentous, something that was about to change his life. Nothing was going to get in his way. Not today.
He turned left and headed towards Allie’s. Just as he reached the roundabout by the church, he heard the message tone on his mobile. Glancing down, he saw it was from Allie. He pulled over quickly and stopped under a tree by the park.
As he began to read the message, he frowned. Then slowly, very slowly, he put the phone back down. A feeling of disbelief began to numb his body. Surely not. How could she do this to him?
He turned off the engine and gazed to his right, out over the green open space, towards the tall oak trees by the allotments. His thoughts were racing around his head, crowding out his mind. He couldn’t seem to stop them coming. How could he have been so stupid: to think that she would put up with his unreasonable behaviour? His mistrust and deceit? He could feel his heart beginning to beat more quickly as he put his arms on the steering wheel and gently lowered his head. His chance at happiness was ebbing away from him once more. Not again. God, please, not again.
Allie opened her wardrobe and looked at what was on offer. She was feeling much better since her leisurely soak. Doctors really should consider prescribing bubble baths, candles, aromatherapy oils and soothing music to overtired patients, she thought, as she tried to decide between two cotton dresses, one green and one blue. Eventually, she plumped for the latter, which was slightly shorter. Just in case Paul came by later. There was no harm in showing a little leg, now, was there?
She pulled the dress on and glanced at herself in the mirror. Although her hair was rapidly frizzing up at the sides, she thought she looked good for someone in shock. Her cheeks were still flushed from the hot water and her eyes looked rested and calm.
She turned round to check the back view and jumped, despite herself. Liz was standing in the doorway, staring at her, tray in hand.
“God, Liz, I didn’t hear you come up,” she managed. “You scared me.”
“Sorry.” Liz smiled back and put the tray down. “You’re looking well, Allie. Much better than you did when we left you yesterday.” She sat down on the edge of the bed. “How are you feeling?”
“I feel fine, now I’ve had a rest.”
There was a pause, as Liz looked her up and down.
“Would y
ou like your tea here, or shall we go down?” Liz asked, her eyes on Allie’s face.
“We’ll go down, shall we?” Allie bent to pick up the tray, but Liz stopped her.
“No, you don’t,” she said. “I’ll carry that.”
Allie straightened up.
“Yes, ma’am.” She was aware of an uncharacteristic edge to Liz’s voice. A slight irritation. “But the kitchen’s a mess. I don’t think there’s even the space to put a cup down,” she said.
“We can sit in the front room,” suggested Liz, grabbing the tray and straightening up in one decisive movement. “It’ll be more relaxing. I can tidy the kitchen for you later.”
“That would be nice,” said Allie, following her out of the room. “I don’t think I can face that mess right now.”
As they went downstairs, a familiar sloshing sound caught Allie’s attention.
“Is that the washing machine?”
Liz nodded.
“There was some stuff in there, so I set it off for you.” She pushed open the door to the front room. “I’ll hang it out for you later, if you like.”
“Thanks Liz.” Allie didn’t have the heart to tell her the clothes had already been washed. It wasn’t important. Washing them again wouldn’t do any harm.
They sat down, and Allie looked around. The walls were now white and flawlessly smooth. She had to admit, the room looked fantastic.
“This looks great, Liz,” she began, making herself comfortable. “Like a professional job. I should be paying you, really.”
“You can settle up with us later,” laughed Liz, handing her a cup of tea. “There you go. Drink up. It’ll do you good.”
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