The Bride: A twisty and completely gripping psychological thriller

by Wendy Clarke

  My smile slips a little. ‘Say something, Drew. Anything.’

  He shakes his head. ‘You throw this at me now?’

  ‘What do you mean? I’m not throwing it at you… it’s what you said you wanted. We don’t have to decide now. We can think about it.’

  Drew looks away, scratching at his forearm. ‘We can’t have a baby. Not now.’

  ‘But why not?’

  His lips are pressed into a thin line. I know something’s wrong.

  ‘Tell me… please.’

  He’s looking at me now, and my gut twists when I see the guilt in his eyes.

  ‘Look, Alice, there’s no easy way of saying this.’ The breath he draws in is loud in the otherwise silent room. ‘I’m seeing someone else.’

  For a minute, I think he’s joking, but when I see the way his body angles away from me, desperate to get away, I know he’s not.

  I stare at him, the muscles of my face aching with the effort not to cry. I can’t let this be the end. ‘I forgive you.’

  Drew drops his gaze to the floor. ‘Don’t say that, Ali. I don’t deserve it.’

  ‘But I mean it. I don’t care. Whatever it is… this fling… we can put it behind us. I love you, Drew.’

  I try to take his hand, but he pulls it from me. ‘Please, Alice. You’ve got to stop this. You’re only making things worse.’

  ‘I’m not. Don’t you see—’

  ‘She’s pregnant.’

  The bottom drops out of my world.

  ‘Are you okay?’ he asks.

  If it wasn’t so tragic, I’d laugh. How can he ask this? How can I be okay when my life has fallen around me like a pack of cards? A wave of pain and nausea hits me, and I press my hand to my stomach, the shake of my head giving him my answer.

  ‘I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say.’

  I didn’t want to know before, but now it’s important to me that I do. I need to know what sort of woman has taken my place… who it is that’s having his baby.

  My whole body feels numb with shock, but I force the words out. ‘Who is she?’

  ‘Just someone at the club.’

  Just someone at the club. It’s said so casually. Can’t he see what his words are doing to me?

  ‘It wasn’t planned… it just happened.’

  I look at the man I’ve shared the last few years of my life with. It’s as though he’s a stranger. ‘And that’s supposed to make me feel better?’

  ‘I still care for you, Ali.’

  With difficulty, I stand, my ankle sending a shock of pain up my leg, and point at the door.

  ‘I’d like you to leave now, Drew.’

  ‘I don’t want it to be like this.’ His eyes are pleading. ‘If you’d just let me explain.’

  The hurt is a solid pain in my chest. But it’s not just the hurt… it’s the realisation of how naïve I’ve been. Remembering how I’d sat in the spare room of my dad’s house struggling with my conscience before talking myself round to the idea of having Drew’s baby.

  Not knowing it was too late.

  The hurt is turning to anger. ‘There’s nothing you can say that I want to hear. Just get out.’

  ‘I didn’t plan it this way. You have to believe me. It’s just that you’ve held me at arm’s length for so long, I decided you didn’t care. Look, I’m not trying to make excuses or make out it’s your fault, of course it isn’t. I just wanted you to understand why I…’ His voice falters. ‘Why it happened.’

  I can’t look at him. Can’t bear to see the way his eyes plead. How desperate he is for me to understand. To absolve him. ‘Go on. Tell me, Drew. Tell me what it is I did that was so bad it made you run into the arms of the first girl who’d take you.’

  His shoulders sag. ‘That’s just it, Alice. You didn’t do anything. It was just a stupid mistake. The baby… it wasn’t supposed to happen. We should have been more careful.’

  I stare at him incredulously. The bitter taste of jealousy in the back of my throat. A stupid mistake. I want to cry at his words. How could a baby be a mistake?

  ‘A mistake,’ I say, my voice flat.

  Drew crosses his arms defensively. ‘I’ve never felt that I’m good enough for you – that I’m just filling a gap in your life. Some sort of emptiness that you won’t talk about. Do you know how that feels? Do you? It feels like shit.’

  Shock makes me take a step back. ‘But that’s not true. I’ve always been here for you.’

  ‘Have you? Have you really? In body maybe… but not up here.’ He taps his forehead with his index finger. ‘Is that why you always changed the subject when I said I wanted children? I’ve always felt like you settled for me, like you were biding your time with me until someone better came along.’

  ‘Of course not—’

  ‘Because that’s what it looked like to me.’

  Part of me wants to tell him the truth. That I’ve been too scared. But what’s the point? It’s too late now. Drew’s moved on. He’s leaving me behind.

  I turn away, swallowing down the hot lump that’s formed in my throat. ‘Just get your things and go, Drew. This is only making it worse.’

  Drew stands. ‘You probably won’t believe me, but I wanted things to work out between us, Alice. So badly.’

  ‘You have a funny way of showing it.’ My voice is filled with bitterness.

  Ignoring me, Drew carries on. ‘For months and months I tried, but you need the other person to try too. It’s not something you can do on your own. A relationship should be equal, but when I talk to you, I don’t feel as if you’re really listening.’

  My head feels heavy, numbed by the unfairness of what he’s saying. ‘You’ve never said any of this before.’

  Drew bats at his forehead with the heel of his hand. ‘And why is that? Because every time I mention anything that might involve, God forbid,’ he makes quote marks in the air, ‘an emotion, you shut down. What is it you’re scared of, Alice?’

  I can’t talk about it. Can’t afford to have my words twisted and used against me. The silence lingers, and I know he’s waiting for me to answer.

  Eventually, he speaks, his voice raw with emotion. ‘For Christ’s sake, Alice, you’re even doing it now. I’ll get my things.’

  With a loud sigh, he leaves the room. I have my back to him, but I hear him as he climbs the stairs. Hear the wardrobe doors opening and closing, the thump of a case as it’s pulled from the top of the wardrobe. There’s a silence, and then the soft scrape of the case against the wall as he carries it down the stairs.

  I stand frozen in the middle of the living room, holding my breath, telling myself his leaving doesn’t bother me. That he’s a cheat and a liar and I’m better off without him. I wait for the sound of the front door to open and when I don’t hear it, I turn. Drew is standing in the doorway looking at me, his fingers grasping the handle of the case.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he says at last. ‘I’ve made things worse waiting until you got back. I planned to pack up my things and leave while you were away, but then I found out about the baby, and it just didn’t seem the right thing to do. It would have been easier for us both if I’d slipped out the back door, but you deserved to hear about the baby from my lips, not someone else’s. Of course, I’ll carry on paying my half of the mortgage, until we can sell the house. But we’ll need to get someone in to value it sooner rather than later. There’s no point in dragging this out.’

  ‘No,’ I say coldly. ‘There isn’t.’

  As the front door finally opens and shuts, I refuse to let myself cry. Instead, I twist my engagement ring round on my finger, my bruised heart thudding in my chest, before slipping it off. It nestles in the palm of my hand, the diamond sparkling in the overhead light. Is Drew right? Did I really shut him out? I think back to the day he gave me the ring and try to remember what I felt as I opened the velvet box. With a shock, I realise that on what should have been the most wonderful day of my life, there was still a little piece of me that held ba
ck.

  Not knowing what to do with it, I pull open a drawer in the hall table and place it in there. I’ll make that decision later.

  My phone pings. It’s Joanna again.

  You didn’t reply!

  If she was here, I’d tell her everything that’s happened these last few days: my dad, my job, the car that nearly ran me down… Drew leaving me. I wonder what she’d say in reply. I hear her voice in my head. Feel the touch of her slim hand with its narrow, manicured nails. It’s a blessing, Alice. He’s not worth it, you know I’m right. I’m here for you, just as I’ve always been.

  Knowing she’d be right, I sink down onto the settee, the phone pressed to my heart, and let the tears come. Seeing Joanna is the one thing that can make everything better.

  Five

  I lie in bed watching the sun flicker behind my curtains. See how the hem is edged in gold. I’ve been awake for hours, but there’s nothing to get up for. In the week since Drew’s been gone, I’ve hardly been able to function. Everything I see, everything I touch, reminds me of him. The kitchen table we salvaged from a skip and repainted, the stain on the carpet where Drew knocked over his red wine, the TV controller only he really understands how to work.

  It’s hard now to remember what happened after I found out the man I thought I’d known was someone I didn’t know at all. He had proved me right. Provided evidence that the barriers I’d put up had not been for nothing and that I’d done the right thing by not allowing him to know the true me. See my vulnerable side. He’s called once, but I haven’t answered, not wanting him to know how his actions have turned me inside out. Laid my nerve endings bare.

  Since then I’ve shut down. Not left the house.

  I barely eat.

  Barely sleep.

  And, on the days I bother to get up, when I drag myself to bed again later, I lie awake in sheets that still smell of Drew. Replaying my life with him and wondering what I did wrong before rewinding my memories to wander again. A continuous loop.

  Today is the tenth day, and I’m feeling different – as though, little by little, my senses are returning. At first, it’s just tiny things: the stale smell of the duvet and the sound of next door’s recycling bin as the lid shuts. But then I become aware of my body. How my arm is cramping where I’ve lain on it, and the insistent growl of a stomach that’s trying to remind me I haven’t eaten properly in days. My ankle is better now, but there’s a dull pain in the area of my heart as it thaws. It’s mild enough to ignore, but I know from experience it will continue to grow until I’m longing for the earlier numbness to return.

  The bedroom is stuffy, smelling of the clothes I haven’t bothered to wash but have left on the floor beside my bed. My hair is greasy, and I really should shower, but it’s too much of an effort.

  I hear Joanna’s voice telling me to pull myself together. He’s not worth it, Alice. You’re better off on your own than with someone who doesn’t love you. If she was here, she’d make me get out of bed, steer me to the bathroom and search my drawers for fresh clothes to put on. Then, even if I hadn’t wanted to, she’d drag me out to the cinema, or pub, or café – anything rather than have me wallow in my own self-pity.

  Why haven’t I rung her before? Pride, I suppose.

  Hit by a sudden yearning to hear Joanna’s voice, I grab my phone and punch in her number, not sure yet what I’m going to say. It rings and I wait, acknowledging the thud of my heart.

  ‘Hi, it’s Joanna.’

  She sounds so happy, so full of life, that immediately I feel calmer. I’m about to speak when I realise it’s just a voicemail message. She’s unavailable right now. Can I leave a message? My mind goes blank. What can I say? Before I’ve decided, a beep signals the time is up. Annoyed with myself, I write a text instead.

  Great news! Who is he? Where did you meet him?

  The small act of messaging her has coaxed me out of my lethargy. Even though I want to, I know I can’t stay in the house forever and, despite my lack of appetite, I’ll eventually need to go to the shops, if only for some more loo roll. With no one to talk to, the small house is starting to feel even smaller. With super-human effort, I make myself get up and open the curtains, the sun blinding me.

  Not bothering to get dressed, I go downstairs and make a mug of coffee, which I take into the garden, surprised to find that it’s midday already. The small garden is hemmed in on all sides by a high grey fence. I used to like the privacy, but now it just feels oppressive. I look at the blank glass faces of the patio doors, the pebble-dashed walls, the heavy black guttering. Things I’d managed to overlook in my desire to make a home with Drew, but which now I know to be ugly. If I stay here, I will disappear and, if that happens, I’m scared I might never find myself again. As I sip my coffee, I listen out for the ping that tells me Joanna has replied.

  There’s nothing.

  Instead, through the open door, I hear the sharp trill of the doorbell. At first, I decide not to answer it, but then the ring comes again. Whoever it is will have seen my car and guessed that I’m in. On the third ring, I give in. It’s clear they’re not going to leave until I answer. Forgetting I’m still in my night stuff, an old T-shirt of Drew’s and a dressing gown that has seen better days, I force my legs to take me to the front door. Opening it, I see it’s Sally, the classroom assistant with whom I used to share a lift. Her round face registers surprise as her eyes take in what I’m wearing.

  ‘Oh,’ she says, taking a slight step backwards. ‘Sorry. I wasn’t interrupting anything, was I? Drew got a day off work?’

  I pull the belt of my dressing gown tighter, the mention of Drew tugging at my heart. ‘No. I’ve been in bed. I’ve had a migraine.’ Sally’s face rearranges itself into one of concern and I quickly add, ‘I’m fine now, though.’

  Sympathy is not what I’m looking for. I know that if she’s kind to me, then I’m in danger of telling her what’s happened and I’m not ready to do that. Not yet.

  ‘Well, I just popped by to tell you that, as it’s such nice weather, a few of us from school have decided to have a barbeque tomorrow evening, round at mine. About five? You don’t need to bring anything… just a jumper. It will be a chance to let it all out – say fuck to them all. It would be great if you could come. Oh, and bring Drew… it’s not as if I can get rid of Alan for the evening.’

  She laughs and, not knowing what else to do, I laugh with her. ‘No, I suppose not.’

  ‘So, you’ll come then?’

  I can see her looking past me into the hall. Can imagine her wondering why my big red box of school stuff is still there and why the curtains are closed in the living room. I don’t want to go to her barbeque. Don’t want to make up a reason why Drew isn’t with me or, worse still, tell them the truth and have to endure their sympathetic smiles and words of advice.

  ‘I’m sorry I can’t.’ I search for something I can say. Some reason to give that won’t sound like an excuse. ‘I’m going away.’

  Sally raises her eyebrows. ‘Didn’t you just go to Corfu?’

  I flounder, caught out in my lie. ‘Yes, but—’

  ‘Mind you,’ she continues. ‘I don’t blame you after the bombshell they dropped. Anywhere nice?’

  It comes to me like a lightning bolt. What an idiot I’ve been. I know exactly where I’m going. Her hand stretched out to me in her message, and it’s a hand I’m struggling not to take as she’s the only person I know who can make things better.

  ‘I’m going to stay with my best friend, Joanna,’ I say, the finality in my voice surprising me. ‘She’s getting married. Wants me to meet her fiancé…’

  I tail off. That’s all the information Joanna has given me.

  Sally leans back against the little porch. ‘Must have been a whirlwind romance if you haven’t met him before. Lucky girl. Took Alan nine years to get his act together and propose.’

  I can see she wants to know more. She’s probably surprised that I haven’t invited her in for a gossip. But although I
like her well enough, ours has never been the sort of friendship where we’ve opened up to each other. Why would I start now?

  ‘I’ll tell you all about it when I get back,’ I say, even though I have no intention of doing any such thing. Now I’ve made up my mind to go, the time I have with Joanna will be precious. Not something to share. ‘Look, Sally, I really have to go. Tell the others I’m sorry I couldn’t make it and that I’ll catch up with them another time.’

  I don’t want to see these people who have only known me as Alice the teacher… Alice Drew’s fiancée. I’ve started to lose touch with who I really am, and I want to find that person again. The person I can only be when I’m with Joanna… The person I was with Jez. I haven’t thought of him in years, but now his face comes back to me as he was then. Laughing blue eyes. A flop of blond hair that he’d push back with his fingers. What’s brought him to mind now?

  Sally nods and straightens up. ‘I’ll tell them. They’ll be sorry to have missed you. Maybe another time.’

  ‘Maybe.’

  I go back into the house, the silence when I close the door behind me deafening. Without Drew between its walls, the fabric that holds everything together – the carpets and the curtains, the furniture and pictures – has no meaning. It’s just an empty vessel. My hand slides to my stomach, and I screw up my eyes in pain as I think of what I’ve lost, and all Drew’s new girl has to look forward to. One thing I know for sure is that I can’t stay in a house where there are memories of him in everything I touch. The promise of a future that is no longer mine.

  Soon, our joint friends will hear of the new girl who’s taken my place at Drew’s side. Maybe, after a short interval for decency’s sake, they’ll even be introduced to her. Will they congratulate them both? Wish them all the best?

  I can’t help wondering if this girl will fit in better than I did.

  The only person who can really understand how I feel is Joanna. Why shouldn’t I go?