The Love Trap: an unputdownable psychological thriller

by Caroline Goldsworthy

  Following her into the kitchen, I motioned for Heather to take the children upstairs to the playroom.

  I put the kettle on. ‘I think you need coffee,’ I said

  ‘I need something stronger.’

  ‘Stephanie, it’s half past nine in the morning.’

  ‘Please, Lily. I’m in shock.’

  Sighing I went across to the drinks cabinet and poured her a brandy. She snatched it from me and gulped half of it down in one mouthful. ‘What on earth has happened?’ I asked.

  ‘I got home last night to discover a box at my front door. I thought it was flowers, so I kicked it over the doorstep and into the flat,’ she sat for a moment playing with the glass and then gulped the rest of the brandy which was in there. She reached for the bottle, poured herself another drink and cradled the glass in stiff hands.

  ‘I put my bags down, shut the door, put the box on the work surface, got a vase and I opened it.’ She screwed her eyes shut and took another slug of brandy. ‘It was disgusting,’ she said. ‘It was full of maggots. I’ve never seen anything so horrible in all my life. Who would do that to me? Is that the sort of thing Topher has done, would do?’

  I shook my head. ‘Topher would never do anything like that. That’s horrible! He’s done some things I hate him for. But that sounds truly spiteful.’

  ‘Sure he’s never done anything like that to you?’ She asked taking another sip of brandy.

  I shook my head. ‘Never.’

  ‘Thank God,’ she said.

  ‘No, Topher is more of “flowers the day after kind of a guy”,’ I replied. ‘He did it when the children were born. James was dark-haired at first. You remember? Just a little sprinkling of dark brown hair. Topher didn’t speak to me for days. And then he changed. It was if the sunshine been switched back on. He sent me flowers with an apology. It wasn’t until a few months later that I found the letter from a company confirming his paternity. He did the same with Darcy as a matter of course. He always apologises afterwards. But he’s always convinced I’m doing something to hurt him.’

  ‘Why don’t you just leave him?’ Stephanie asked.

  ‘Don’t you think I’ve tried? He’s always several steps ahead,’ I said, ‘that’s why I need you. I need you to help me prove that he is trying to make me go mad. The solicitor said I need proof.’

  ‘I don’t get it,’ said Stephanie.

  ‘He has told me if I try to leave him, he will use every single one of those instances: losing things, forgetting things, all of those as examples of why I’ve been unfit mother. And unsuitable to be left in sole charge of my children. So you see, Steph, if I leave him and I can’t prove he’s gaslighting me – I lose my children. And I am not…’ I said grabbing her glass and taking a slug of the brandy for myself, ‘I am not going to lose my children.’

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Stephanie

  Lily made me take a taxi home. I don’t blame her, but I had to take a taxi again to get to the meeting with Mehic. It was only a ten-mile journey, but it took nearly an hour even in evening traffic. It gave me time to think things over. So far John had paid no attention to the injunction I’d raised. If the rotten flowers weren’t from Topher, they had to be from him Who else could it be? I’d gone through ex-clients, but none seemed disgruntled enough to wage such a terror campaign. The only person who had was Mehic’s nephew, Nicolae. I knew Nicolae had wanted to take over the running of the organisation, but was unable to as I’d kept his uncle out of prison. Nicolae was not a man to annoy. If possible, he was even more disagreeable than his uncle. And here was I, about to ask for their help.

  I parked my car in the club’s car park and strolled across to the main entrance. A security guard who looked like a cross between a heavyweight boxer and a golem, stared at me with a mixture of loathing and contempt.

  ‘You can’t take anything in with you,’ he said. ‘Mr Mehic’s orders.’

  ‘Okay,’ I said placing everything in a plastic box. I even submitted to a perfunctory search, glaring at the meathead who lingered too long at my breasts.

  I followed another man stuffed into a dinner jacket upstairs and passed closed doors until we reached one marked Private. The gorilla knocked on it and waited for a reply.

  I stepped over the threshold, jumping when the door was pulled shut behind me. Mehic waved me to a chair. I sat placing my hands in my lap. He was unrecognisable. I would have passed him in the street. I wondered what had caused the damage to his physique. Perhaps it was the battle with his nephew.

  ‘Hello,’ I said. ‘You’re looking well.’

  ‘Liar,’ he said. ‘I look like shit and you know it. Stage four lung cancer.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that.’

  ‘So, what do you want?’ he said, sweeping my apology aside.

  ‘I’m being followed again.’

  ‘Nothing to do with me or my family.’

  ‘I think it’s an ex-boyfriend.’

  ‘How is this my problem?’ he leaned forward, resting his forearms on the empty desk. They’d shrivelled compared to the man I remembered. Pale replicas of the muscled arms I recalled.

  ‘He’s damaged my car. He’s left a box filled with maggots on my doorstep. I just want him to stop,’ I begged. ‘You promised me a favour when I needed one. Now I’m asking. Please!’

  ‘Take out an injunction against him.’ Mehic glared at me. No sympathy in his deep-set dark eyes.

  Tears pricked my eyes. ‘I’ve already done that, but it’s made no difference.’

  Mehic merely raised his eyebrows. ‘You have friends in the Met,’ he said. ‘Why aren’t you asking them for help?’

  Briefly I wondered how he knew about my friendship with Denise Jones. Was he still having me watched? Is this all his doing?

  ‘I can’t ask her and you know it,’ I said. ‘I need someone to have a quiet word with him.’

  ‘I will think about it,’ Mehic said. He rose. The conversation was over. Mehic called out and his bodyguard came back into the room.

  I was escorted away to collect my handbag and briefcase. I wasn’t sure if I had wasted my time coming to see him or not.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Lily

  When I ran the conversation with Stephanie over again in my mind, I began to feel I might have exaggerated Topher’s shortcomings. However, since he was spending less time at home and focussed on other matters when he was here, I’d finally begun to enjoy life. Without Topher creating the constant need to tiptoe over eggshells, the children were happier and better behaved. They were sleeping and eating better. Even the nursery school told me that Darcy was chattier and starting to make friends. This is what life could be like without my husband in it and, for the first time in many years, I was looking forward to the future.

  I skipped down the stairs and, once again was drawn to the music room. I’d wanted to make so much of this room. I’d imagined it filled with life, tutoring students, but since the car crash and the assault allegations I haven’t felt inclined to advertise. Even private students I’d seen in the past have stopped attending my classes.

  Whilst I was angry people chose to believe the allegations, allegations I know to be lies, I had lost the trust of the parents. I paused at the door, then pressed the handle down and marched into the room. I’d left the violin in its case on a chair when I was last in here, disgusted at my lost skills. I picked it up, blew some the particles of dust away and practiced scales. Something I hadn’t done since living in Arlington. The sound was terrible. Tentative and stiff. I practiced again and again.

  My fingertips were becoming sore, softened through a lack of rigorous practice. How had I allowed myself to be so lost?

  Gritting my teeth, I began again until my hands blistered. I put the violin back on the chair and rubbed my hands forcing blood back into them as I used to do.

  The sheet music from my last visit to this room sat on the music stand in front of me. Tentatively I raised the violin to my
neck, rested my chin and drew the bow across the strings. Here goes nothing, I told myself, taking in a deep breath.

  Eyes closed, I released the breath and began to play. I swayed in time to the notes, and, as my body relaxed into the rhythm, I gasped. I played more. Tears came but this time they were tears of joy.

  All I needed was practice. But since the accident and the incarceration at the psychiatric hospital, my confidence had been eroded. I needed it back.

  I vowed to practice each day. This was something I wouldn’t let Topher take away from me.

  I headed to the kitchen to make lunch. It wasn’t one of the days Heather came to help me and I was grateful, as she’d be horrified at the state of my fingertips. I rinsed them under the tap, wrapped them in a tea towel whilst I struggled to get the first aid tin out a cupboard and on to the work surface. At last, I managed to stop the bleeding and bandaged them up. I cleared up the trail of blood splatters I’d left around the kitchen remembering to put the tea towel in cold water to soak.

  Proud of my domestic achievements, I pulled ham and salad from the fridge and bread from the pantry and built myself a sandwich. It was always surprising how hungry practice made me. Yet in those days I could eat what I liked and never put weight on. Two children had certainly put paid to my efficient metabolism.

  I glanced out the window and saw Topher’s garden office in darkness as it had been ever since Stephanie took him out of my life. Her words came back to me and I began to wonder what secrets he kept in there. I couldn’t dwell on it until Topher was guaranteed not to return. It would be catastrophic if he were to find me in there.

  Stephanie had given me the two tiny filing cabinet keys and agreed to take him away for a weekend. He told me he would be away at a conference. Gosh, Friday seemed such a long time to get into his office. I breathed out. Let’s just hope I find what I’m looking for. Something that will free me from this mad excuse for a marriage.

  The divorce lawyer I’d met with before the car crash told me I needed to get evidence of his income and if I could find any evidence of how he was trying to manipulate me I should get copies of that too. Like any child excited about a party, I had decided what I was going to wear to break into Topher’s office. I couldn’t wait to see what I was going to find in there.

  I thought about my therapist, Fran. She’d made me see the truth of what was happening to me. I knew I have a huge fight ahead of me, but at least I was preparing for battle.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Lily

  Going in to meet Fran still felt like a visit to the headmistress’s office.

  Had I got my story straight? It was stupid really; she had convinced me time and time again that she was there to help me. Had I lost trust in everyone around me? Everyone close to me seemed to have turned their back on me. I knocked on the door and twisted the doorknob when I heard Fran call, ‘come in.’

  ‘Hello,’ she said. ‘How have you been since we last met?’

  I panicked. How have I been? I began shaking.

  ‘Have you been keeping your journal,’ Fran prompted.

  Of course, the journal. I retrieved it from my handbag. Learning my lesson over the letter about the hire car, I’d hidden the journal under my side of the mattress when I was in bed, but kept it near me during the day. ‘I played my violin,’ I said.

  ‘That’s marvellous,’ Fran squeaked. ‘How was it?’

  ‘Awful,’ I said. ‘At first, then I went back to it again and it was better.’

  ‘How did it make you feel, holding it in your hands again?’ She slid the box of tissues closer to me. I grabbed one. Twisting it around in my fingers, holding it at the ready.

  ‘Scared, happy, annoyed.’

  ‘How come?’

  ‘I was scared I wouldn’t be able to play anymore, then I could and I was happy.’

  ‘That’s good,’ she said. ‘But what annoyed you?’

  ‘I was annoyed with myself for leaving it so long. For allowing myself to get so out of practice. However, I’ve been practising every day.’

  ‘That’s terrific news. Very empowering.’

  I smiled and sat up straight in my chair, reminded again of being at school and receiving praise for my playing and dedication.

  ‘How are things with your husband?’

  My blood ran cold, sweat beads formed on my top lip. I looked down, said nothing.

  ‘You said before that he blamed you for the car crash,’ Fran continued. ‘How about you tell me about that?’

  ‘His parents were killed in a crash when he was very young. He asked me if I’d crashed on purpose to hurt him.’

  ‘And had you?’

  ‘No of course not. That’s a terrible thing to say. I’d never do something like that.’

  ‘Why would he think that you would?’

  ‘We had an argument at the weekend. On our anniversary and he hurt me. He grabbed my arm and twisted my wrist around.’

  ‘Is he often physically violent?’

  ‘No, you don’t understand. He lost his parents. Mine divorced when I was young. We both had intimacy issues when we met. We kind of cured each other.’

  ‘Cured?’

  ‘That’s how he’s always described it. He tells me that I’m the first woman he’s ever really trusted.’

  ‘And yet he hurts you? Does he hurt the children?’

  I was too shocked to answer. Blood pounded in my ears, and my face grew hot.

  ‘Lily?’

  I scowled at her. ‘The children are fine.’

  ‘No bed wetting? No nightmares?’

  ‘Darcy still wears a nappy at night-time. James is fine.’

  ‘How old is Darcy now?’

  ‘Three.’

  ‘I see. How is Topher with the children?’

  ‘They adore him,’ I replied, hanging my head.

  ‘Lily?’ Fran leaned forward. ‘It is okay to talk here. This is a safe place.’

  ‘James adores him. Darcy is terrified.’

  ‘When was Topher first violent towards you? Was it before the children were born or afterwards?’

  ‘Not before,’ I shook my head. ‘It first happened when I was pregnant with James. He was sorry afterwards. He says he just lashes out when he feels powerless. After his parents died he lived with his aunt. Her boyfriend was abusive. Topher wasn’t able to stand up to him and said he felt unable to stop the guy hitting his aunt.’

  ‘And now does hitting you make him feel powerful?’

  ‘I don’t know. It’s not something I’ve asked him.’

  ‘That’s something I want you to think about before next time, Lily.’

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Lily

  For the next few days, Fran’s words rang in my ears. I wanted to be free of Topher, but I didn’t want to give in without a fight. That meant getting into his office. Having a plan gave me more confidence.

  With the keys safely in my pocket I felt them burning away at me all Friday afternoon. I didn’t know where else I could put them to keep them safe. Topher’s usual hiding places for my things might have seemed like a good idea but, if he were trying to trick me again, wouldn’t he find this betrayal?

  I’d thought of little else except when I was going to try and break into his study. Earlier in the week when he’d told me he was going away for a conference over the weekend, I knew it was a lie. Stephanie had already warned me, but I wished she hadn’t. I wasn’t sure if my acting was good enough to fool him. I packed his case for him but came upstairs to find him repacking it. The expression on his face was enough to let me know I’d not done a good enough job.

  I patted the key in my dressing gown pocket where it was safe. I’d kept it with me. Even taking it into the shower with me.

  On Friday morning Topher bade me goodbye, with a promise to call me in the evening when he got to his hotel. I tried to remember what it had been like when we were parted in the early days and I told him how much the children and I would miss him.
The day passed interminably slowly. I couldn’t focus on anything but I knew I should leave it until after the children were in bed. I patted the keys all day through. At seven o’clock in the evening, the children were ready for their baths before bed and Topher called them on Face Time. James, naturally was so excited to see him that I scarcely had to act my part of doting wife at all, apart from coaxing Darcy to wave at him. Afterwards, I put the children to bed, read them a story, and then took James through to his room. I chatted with him for a while until he fell asleep. Darcy had become better at self-soothing than James. I cursed myself for the damage my marriage was doing to my babies.

  At nine pm I decided to take myself into the garden. I’d dispensed with my plan to wear dark clothes. The neighbours were more likely to think I was a burglar and call the police, but I did pop a Buff headband over my hair in case the mousy brown glinted in the security light from their garden. I crept across to the office, heart pounding so loudly that the neighbours must have been able to hear it. My trainers were soaked in the damp from the grass and I shivered, though whether that was from the cold or the fear, I didn’t know. I took the key out of my jeans pocket and put it in the lock. I turned. It was stiff at first, but I tried to force it around. Then it clicked and… it turned.

  I was in.

  I stepped over the threshold and pulled the door shut behind me.

  Once the door clicked shut, I was plunged into darkness. I scrabbled around for the light switch, but before I turned it on I panicked in case the lights from the office, flooding across the grass and might alert my neighbours.

  Get a grip, Lily. Why would they care if you’re in here? All the same, I was afraid of some idle mention of it to Topher, I edged further into the room, hands out in front of me, trying to find a clear path to the window without knocking anything over. I finally made my way to the window, pulled down the blind and switched on my torch.