by KERRY BARNES
The tearoom at the other end of the corridor was quiet. Most of the staff had gone to the main canteen. Kara pulled sandwiches from her bag and examined the limp cheese and bread, which had been made soggy by the overripe tomatoes. She threw them back into the box and pulled out an apple. Kara was startled by her mobile phone, which vibrated in her back pocket. She’d forgotten she’d had it on silent. As she struggled to answer it before it rang off, she didn’t look at the number, assuming it was Justin, her boyfriend. ‘Hello?’ She tried to sound upbeat.
However, the voice that greeted her was anything but upbeat. In fact, it was chilling. ‘Kara, Kara, perfect Kara, how’s dearest Justin?’ A cold, sickly chuckle ended the call.
The apple fell out of her hand and rolled under the table, as Kara stared at the number. The voice was unrecognisable but the call had come from her mother’s phone.
Before she had a chance to call back, Roger popped his head around the door, and as soon as he saw her there alone, he came inside and sat opposite. ‘So, what’s going on, Kara? You have been offish for weeks now.’
Her face was blank. She seemed to be staring aimlessly.
‘Kara, are you listening to me?’ he growled.
His raised voice snapped her out of her daze. ‘Weeks?’ she mustered.
He ran a hand through his long wiry hair and nodded. ‘Yes, Kara, weeks. You have messed up three tests. Luckily, I realised and corrected your mistakes before the results went out. And I haven’t forgotten the serious cock-up with the pigbel drugs.’
She bowed her head in embarrassment. That really was a huge mistake and one she would never repeat.
‘It’s not like you. Usually, you are meticulous, and to be perfectly frank, you’re faultless, but you cannot afford to mess up. These are safety class four bugs and you are trained in this area because you are so good at your job. If this keeps happening, Kara, you will have to go back to quality control.’
‘I am really sorry. Look, I will go to Denmark and sort myself out. I’ve just been feeling unwell. It’s some dodgy virus I picked up from Papua New Guinea. When do I go?’
Roger stood up to leave. ‘Tomorrow night. The flights are booked. A car will pick you up at seven o’clock, and you will be away for two weeks or longer, if need be.’ His words were flat and not his usual endearing tone. Kara then heard him outside laughing with Sam James, the lab technician. Her heart sank. Roger usually laughed with her, but not today, and in fact not for a while now. She couldn’t really blame him. It was her own fault – she was the one being distant. However, her pride wouldn’t let her confide in him the reasons why she was not herself.
After making a cup of tea, she sat back on one of the mismatched chairs and sniffed away the tears that were ready to tumble down her face. The thought of going to Denmark for two weeks left her desolate. How could she sort things out with Justin, if she was away in another country?
But there was also something else bothering her – that weird phone call. The only other person who ever answered her mother’s phone was Lucille, the carer. But the caller’s voice, although somewhat similar, had such an unearthly tone to it.
Chapter 2
The journey home was mind-numbing. The bus was full, with only standing room, and Kara found herself hanging on to the pole for dear life. The bug was making her weak and the constant nauseous feeling was wearing her down. The bus arrived at her stop just in time before she collapsed and that was enough to force her to take a seat on the nearest wall.
The icy air from this morning had gone, yet the sky was still dark and gloomy, and it was only six o’clock. It just about summed up her own mood. After a few deep breaths, she headed home along the cherry-tree-lined road into her close. Mr Langley was retrieving his groceries from the boot of his car and only nodded out of politeness when she said ‘hello’. Still, the Langleys were nice enough, keeping themselves to themselves, like the others in the close.
As soon as she noticed only her car was in the drive and not Justin’s, she felt a sudden emptiness because he was working late at his car dealership business. Again.
They had met at her twenty-first birthday party lavishly laid on by her mother, Joan. Justin had turned up with Lucas Lane, her mother’s friend’s son, whom she’d known for years. She remembered feeling butterflies as soon as she laid eyes on him. His mousy waves with streaks of blond tumbled neatly around his ears, framing his carefully sculptured face. He was tall with a perfectly proportioned physique. She guessed he was into sports from his muscular broad shoulders, probably a rugby player, she mused, but then his face was flawless, without the cauliflower ears, which suggested maybe he was into football instead.
That summer it was hot, and his golden tan set off his light blue eyes. When the party was in full swing, all she remembered was him and his shy glances. Lottie, her friend from her boarding school days, nudged her arm. ‘Cor, he is real hot totty.’ She chuckled. Yet Kara didn’t need to be told – it was obvious – and she wasn’t the only one eyeing him up. There was an enchanting awkwardness about him; he was confident, laughing with the lads, but when his eyes diverted to her, he seemed almost coy.
Lucas Lane was eager to show him off; it was obvious he was a popular lad among his male friends. A couple of the other boys were patting his back and clinking glasses, whilst listening to him telling a story. They seemed to be hanging on his every word. She could only assume he was pretty outgoing and possibly adventurous with wild tales of trekking through the Himalayas. Her heart did a backflip when he approached her to wish her a happy birthday, and to her surprise, he even brought along a gift: a small teddy, with twenty-one embroidered on it. That teddy still sat on her bedside table.
Kara hurried inside, hung her coat up on the coatstand, and went straight to the kitchen. She would cook him a nice meal, his favourite – chilli con carne – and hopefully he would sit at the table and talk. That’s all she wanted – for him to talk to her. A few weeks ago, when she called Justin at work and said, ‘I have chilli on the stove,’ he’d replied, ‘Something hot in the kitchen and something hot on the stove, eh? I’ll be home in a jiffy.’
His deep husky voice, to her, just oozed sex, and she could listen to him all night; it was as good as any foreplay. Her eyes swam with tears. The onions weren’t even out of the fridge when the torrent of tears flowed like Angel Falls. She’d been on the verge of crying for weeks. Justin hadn’t actually done or said anything wrong; it was the distance that had come between them and it had happened almost overnight. She thought at first it was her, but then, as the days went on, he seemed miles away, quiet and aloof.
She asked him a few times if he was okay, but he snapped back at her, telling her to stop fussing. She told herself it would blow over and their relationship – perfect in her eyes – would get back to normal. Romantic meals for two, bubble baths together, and a shared bottle of wine in front of the open fire would all return. Yet, the days were now turning into weeks, and she felt her heart being ripped away from her.
Kara sighed and continued preparing the food. Once the chilli was simmering, she went upstairs to have a quick shower and redo her make-up; perhaps she had become a little dowdy and unattractive. The main bathroom was huge with a bath that would easily accommodate two people and a walk-in shower area much like a wet room. The full-length mirror screwed to the far end was surrounded by spotlights, so even a stray hair or a tiny spot could be seen.
Kara stepped out of her clothes, and for a second, she didn’t recognise herself. Perhaps she’d let herself go. Her clothes were certainly tighter; she would have to renew her gym membership and spruce herself up. Justin was fit and his body was rippled with muscles. Another tear fell. She took a step closer and peered at her face. Her blonde hair needed a trim or a restyle; it was just long and flat. The usual shine had disappeared, and she had to admit to herself, she didn’t look in the best shape at all. Her skin was not smooth and glowing; her face appeared pale and spiteful.
Perhaps
that was it; maybe he wasn’t attracted to her like before. At only twenty-six years old, she should look fresh and vibrant. Maybe it was her secret tears and all the worry that were souring her face, or the virus bringing her down. The bed sheets had been dry for over a month now, and he hadn’t so much as touched her. She swallowed the hard lump in her throat. The shower was hot, and she had to turn it down a notch, submersing herself under the champagne-setting flow. Standing for a while, she allowed the water to tickle her back and massage her throbbing head.
She must get back to how she was before: toned, fresh, and attractive. Not that she fancied herself as anything special, but Justin did. He told her she was an even prettier version of Jennifer Aniston, and he wasn’t the only one: a few people had said she was a lookalike. He always complimented her; in fact, he treated her as if she were the only woman alive. The problem was he hadn’t lately, though.
Hearing the sound of the front door shutting loudly, her heart fluttered; he was home. She almost slipped over in the shower, trying to get out. She wanted to get dressed and apply a few layers of make-up, add her expensive perfume, and slip on her new floral print dress. He had bought it for her when they went to Harrods. She had to win him back. It was absurd that she was thinking she had lost him, but it was how she was beginning to feel, and if she dared even to think for a moment he was seeing someone else, she would feel sick. That notion was unbearable.
He didn’t call up to her with one of his captivating comments like, ‘Do you need a back scrubber?’ or ‘Do you need company in that bath?’ She shook, putting her mascara on, knowing this was the time she would demand to know what was going on. She planned the words over and over in her head. She even thought of lowering her pride by begging him to go back to the way things were, with a holiday, or perhaps spicing up their sex life.
He wasn’t in the kitchen, when she eventually wandered downstairs. He was in the snug, the smallest room where they went to read, where the bookshelves displayed an array of books from fiction to medical publications. In the corner was a desk and a computer to catch up on work at home. A three-piece suite softened the room and made it more homely than an office.
She peered in with a false smile on her face, when inside she was dying. ‘Well, hello, sexy.’ She tried to sound upbeat, but it was not reciprocated with his usual smile that lit up his face. He was staring down at his phone, and then he peered up with an expression she’d never seen before. It resembled a deep sorrow that dragged his eyes down.
She tilted her head to the side. ‘Please, Justin, tell me what’s wrong? I can’t bear this tension, this … I don’t even know what it is, but it’s hurting me. You have changed so much towards me. I mean, I hardly recognise you … Look, if I’ve done something wrong, please tell me. Put me out of this misery.’ Her eyes filled with salty tears and she let them hang there and build up, before they finally fell in streams. She made no sound but just stared, longing for him to run to her, throw his arms around her, and tell her he loved her.
He didn’t; instead, he looked away, and in a meek voice, he said, ‘I’m just tired and overworked. Please, stop fussing.’
She turned to walk away and hesitated, glancing one more time over her shoulder, to find him still staring at his phone. Her pain was tainted by so much frustration that she wanted to run back and shake him. Couldn’t he see how much it was killing her?
With a heavy heart, she dished up the chilli con carne and carried the two plates into the dining room. Her hands were shaking as she lit the candle. He joined her, sitting opposite, but really, he wasn’t himself. She watched him struggling to force the food down. Then, exasperation got the better of her. She slammed her knife and fork down on the solid oak table, making him jump. ‘Justin, I can’t take this anymore. What the hell’s going on? You won’t talk, and now you can’t even eat. This isn’t fair. Tell me now! What is wrong?’ she shrieked.
Justin pushed his plate forward, clasped his hands together, and leaned his elbows on the table. She searched his eyes for answers, all the while feeling overanxious and thwarted with pending grief. Her heart was racing and her breathing shallow, as if she were awaiting the death penalty. This wasn’t Justin, not her Justin, with the beaming white-teeth smiles and a face full of fun, spouting his jokes at every opportunity. The easy-going, sweet man who worked hard, loved hard, and cared for everyone, most of all her, seemed to be inwardly broken. She didn’t recognise his sober expression or the dull look in his otherwise vibrant ocean-coloured eyes that once danced like the waves.
‘I, er, I don’t know how to tell you this, but I can’t carry on deceiving you. Kara, I’m so sorry …’ he replied, choking on his words.
‘What, tell me what’s going on? Please, we can work things out. Nothing is ever that bad.’ Her voice was on the point of hysteria.
He shook his head and looked down in shame. ‘Oh Jesus, Kara, there’s no easy way to say it … I’m leaving you.’
The words took a few seconds to digest. She couldn’t believe he’d just said them. Now stunned, she stared, shaking her head. ‘No, no, Justin, please don’t tell me you’re leaving me! Why? Why?’ She pleaded with him for an answer.
He looked up, his face drenched in guilt. ‘Oh, Kara, you deserve the truth, but I know it will hurt you so much. I’m so sorry. I don’t know how to tell you, but I can’t put it off any longer … I never meant to hurt you, I swear, and for the record, I do love you, I always have, more than anyone, but I have to end our relationship … I did something stupid …’
Kara guessed he had met someone else and couldn’t stand to hear those words, knowing it would destroy her. No one was more important in her life than Justin. He was her world, her rock, and her love. ‘Please, Justin, it doesn’t matter, don’t tell me. We can work it out. I’ll forgive you. Just don’t leave me. Please, don’t leave me.’ Her mouth felt like it was chewing a hundred cotton-wool balls and her legs were like mushy peas.
Justin’s bottom lip quivered, and then he placed his face in his hands. Kara was by his side with her arms around him. ‘It’s okay, we’ll be fine, we can work this out, I’ll forgive you. Just don’t say any more. We can put whatever it is behind us … Come on, don’t get upset. It’s okay, I promise.’ She’d never seen him cry before. It was guilt, she thought, but it didn’t matter. They would sort it out. She would forgive him for anything right now, as long as he didn’t leave her.
To her surprise, he pushed her away. ‘Stop it, Kara! Just stop it, will you! I can’t stay, I won’t stay, and you have to let me go!’
Stunned, Kara stepped back, and looked at the love of her life, with his wet red cheeks. It was strange. All she could say, in a whisper, was ‘Why?’
He grabbed the serviette from the table and wiped his face, before he took a deep breath. ‘I’ve got a woman pregnant, so I have no choice.’
Kara threw her hands to her mouth in horror. No, he can’t have. He wouldn’t do that. This was a nightmare … She would wake up and it would all be a bad dream.
‘Look, tell her to get an abortion, tell her … I don’t know, Justin, but please don’t leave me. I can’t live without you.’
Kara was dancing on his conscience and he couldn’t deal with it. ‘Shut up! Just shut up. I’m leaving and that’s it. Please stop, Kara. I’ve made my decision and it’s final.’
Kara ran back to him, throwing her arms around his neck. ‘Please don’t, Justin, I’m begging you!’ She could feel her heart being ripped to shreds, not in half so that she could fix it together, but in strands of lonely pieces that could never be whole again. Staring with begging eyes at the only man she’d ever loved, and for him to coldly look away, hurt like nothing on earth.
She slumped to the floor in agonising grief. In that single moment, her chest was crushed by heartache, knowing that this battle to hold on to their relationship would be fought alone. His cold eyes told her everything she needed to know – he didn’t want her anymore, he wanted someone else. She curled in a ba
ll and rocked, too distraught even to make a crying sound. Unable to ease her pain for fear of giving her false hope, he left the room and headed upstairs to pack.
The avalanche of grief mixed with furious frustration turned her self-pity to a burning anger. She gasped as the cold realisation hit her: he didn’t even care enough to stay and work things out. Every nerve in her body was now on fire. She jumped up, screaming, as she snatched the plates and hurled them at the wall. The beautiful cream plaster mouldings were now covered in chilli, which was sliding down the Italian fresco wallpaper.
Her temper increased, and she ran up the stairs after him, shrieking, ‘How could you do this to me? How could you be so cold and heartless? You fucking two-timing bastard!’ Shocked by her own actions and even by the pitch in her voice, she threw her hands to her mouth and glared wide-eyed.
The suitcase was open, and he was carefully filling it with freshly ironed shirts and trousers. He wouldn’t even look at her; it was as if she were a ghost. In a fit of fury, she grabbed the case and tossed it on the floor. ‘How could you, how could you?’ she cried.
Without a word, he held both her arms, before she tore into anything else, and gently pushed her out of the room and closed the door behind her. She had never shown such heartbreaking emotion. Her pleading, distraught expression mixed with that vile anger in her voice had turned her into an unrecognisable stranger.
Kara knew then that no matter how much she screamed, cried, or even begged, he was still going to leave. And he did – half an hour later.
The emptiness was like hell on earth, left with just thoughts of him and another woman. The misguided notion that he was totally besotted with her, only to find out he was sleeping with someone else, was the ultimate in deceit. He had taken away her perfect world in one fell swoop. The house that was once alive with love and passion was now a cold shell filled with memories that had ripped her heart out.