He knew that after that night on the platform the train girl was going to change everything he had painfully and patiently planned and he knew it was a mistake to let her into his house. He hated himself for being so weak, but it had happened and he couldn’t change that. All he could do now was get rid of her somehow, in a way that wouldn’t expose her to any truth or put her in any danger. Racking his brain for a solution to how he should deal with the turn of events that he hadn’t anticipated, he looked at the wall clock that ticked on the way it always had, the way it always would. He saw the time.
10.47 p.m.
Chris began to laugh quietly to himself. A laugh filled with hate for the clock and its relentless displaying of how time was moving so slowly now that he wanted it to move fast and how it had flown when Julia was alive.
He thought of her smile and the way she held his hand and how both could fill an hour of his day but feel like seconds. He thought of the way she giggled at his jokes and the way she fidgeted in her sleep. He thought of the sound of her begging for her murderer to stop, until she screamed no more, pleaded no more, her eyes begging Chris before the silence fell.
Standing, to shake the horror of the image, he closed his eyes. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. He was supposed to be keeping a low profile until he could complete what he needed to. He wasn’t supposed to feel any desire other than the desire for it to be his time to die.
Chris grabbed his keys, went into his garden, and walked towards his shed. He needed to hear Julia’s voice. Before he unlocked the door he looked to the night sky. He looked to where his two stars should be, but they couldn’t be seen.
Chapter 24
10.49 p.m. – Almond Road, Peterborough
Steve hadn’t intended to come to Chris’s house. He was supposed to be doing some late-night food shopping, but as he drove to the supermarket he felt the urge to check in on the man who had once been his best friend, and somewhere under the depression, still was.
First he drove past the front of his house slowly. Seeing no movement or lights he drove round to Almond Road – the road that backed onto Chris’s garden – and parked. It was dark. Assuming Chris was asleep Steve was about to leave. But then a kitchen light was thrown on and Steve could see movement coming from Chris’s kitchen through a gap in the old fence. Getting out of his car he ran to the back fence, crouched down, and hid in the shadows. Looking through a gap in the wood panels into the garden Steve saw Chris outside in just his underwear.
He watched as Chris looked up to the sky and then winced as he rubbed his right shoulder. After a few seconds of rubbing and then shaking out his right hand, as if he had pins and needles, Chris walked towards his shed. Steve watched his friend look around, almost as if to make sure he wasn’t being watched, before unlocking the shed door and stepping inside, closing it behind him. It confused him. What was he up to? Where had that scar come from and why didn’t he tell him about it? Chris usually told Steve everything. His silence felt like another lie.
As Steve made his way to his car he couldn’t help wondering what he had just seen and what he knew. Chris had become a drinker, a violent one, and now he was making late-night visits to his shed. There was something not right about this situation.
Chris wasn’t moving like a man who was depressed. He was moving like a man who was hiding something.
Chapter 25
7 days left
6.31 a.m. – London Road, Peterborough
It was the second time I had woken up in his bed and for the second time he wasn’t beside me.
The first time I woke it was in the middle of the night, the noise of a creaky door stirring me from my peaceful dreams. For a moment I assumed it was Natalie leaving for work. It took me a second to remember where I was and that it wasn’t Natalie at all. I looked to my left and he wasn’t in bed with me, just an empty space where he should have been. I assumed that he had gone to the toilet and stretching I smiled, feeling satisfied.
Sex with Chris hadn’t been what I expected. I thought it would be disconnected, rough even. Like it was with John. But it was anything but that. It was soft, tender, caring. He wanted to please me; he was unselfish. It felt as if our bodies were a perfect fit for each other.
I heard a noise coming from outside and getting out of his bed I found my clothes and put them on, wondering how much longer he was going to be in the toilet, if that was even where he had gone. The noise sounded like someone was in his garden. I looked pulled back the curtain to see outside. In the darkness I could just make out the shape of him at the back of his garden near an old shed, almost hidden among the overgrown trees and weeds.
It looked like he was trying to find something. He kept scanning from his left to right and then he looked up towards me. I froze, unsure if he could make me out in the darkness. He stayed looking up at me for a few seconds before turning to open the shed door. Just as he stepped in he looked back once more. My eyes had now adjusted to the night and I could see him trying to work out if I was there, but I realized he was unable to see me. Once again, I wondered what his secrets were and if some answers were in that shed; maybe there was something I could use to help him.
Twenty or so minutes after he went inside he stepped back out. He looked sad, beaten. He started making his way back to the house. I panicked. I didn’t want him to know I had been watching so as quickly as I could I took my clothes off and put them back where they were scattered on his floor before. I climbed under the covers and pretended to be asleep.
As he climbed back into bed he smelt like soil. I stayed awake most of the night, listening to him breathe as he slept. Feeling his chest rise up and down against my hand that rested on it. Wondering what was happening in his dreams. It took me two hours to fall back to sleep and now waking up properly I realized I was feeling sick from tiredness.
Grabbing my phone I looked at the time. There were three missed calls from Natalie and a text. I opened it up. She had sent it just before 5 a.m.
‘Sarah, where the bloody hell are you? George and I are worried.’
I knew she would be beyond worried now. She would be pissed off. I texted her back saying everything was okay and I was on my way home. I needed to get up anyway. It was a long drive back to Cambridge and the A14 was notoriously shit during rush hour.
After putting my clothes on I looked at myself in the mirror that covered a wardrobe door. I hadn’t noticed it the night before. I hoped he couldn’t see us in it. My hair looked wild. The post-sex wild, and I assumed he wouldn’t have hair straighteners anywhere. I hoped I was lucky enough to miss most of the traffic so I could nip home for a shower before work. Otherwise it was the dreaded walk of shame into the office.
Once dressed I called his name. The house was eerily quiet. I called again and headed for the stairs and still nothing. Walking into his kitchen I saw the two cups washed and on the draining board from the night before. But no sign of him. I walked into his lounge. He wasn’t there.
There was a picture frame sat on a small table beside his sofa. I picked it up and in it was him with another man and woman, all three of them arm in arm. Smiling, happy. Putting the picture down, making sure it was in exactly the same place, I walked from the lounge into the hallway, calling his name. He wasn’t there. My phone pinged in my hand. It was a text from Nat.
‘You better have a bloody good reason for not coming home and not telling me!’
I did have a good reason, but I knew what she would do if I told her. She would go ballistic. The idea of lying didn’t feel right, but I wasn’t sure if I had a choice. I messaged back to say I would tell her everything later.
I called out again: still no response. I was alone in his house. I remembered him in the garden in the middle of the night and walked towards his back door. The keys were in it. Calling out again with no reply I unlocked it and stepped outside.
I’m not exactly green-fingered but even I could see that weeds were taking over what was probably once a beautiful small
garden. I could see a bench half hidden behind a bush and walked towards it. It made me think of that night, his sadness, his note. I daren’t sit down. I could see the grass had been trodden down to make a path leading towards the shed he was in the night before and I walked towards it.
I tried to open the door but it was locked. Whatever was in there I wasn’t going to see it without a key. Walking back towards the house I jumped when I looked up and saw him standing in the doorway. The bag that I had left by the front door was in his hands. His expression was hard to read.
‘What are you doing?’
‘I was just getting some fresh air,’ I lied. I don’t know why I lied. But I felt if I said I had seen him in his shed he might throw me out. He seemed to believe me.
‘Coffee?’
‘I really have to get going. I’ve got work.’
‘I see, well let me make you one for the road.’
Chris put my bag on the kitchen side and made me a coffee in silence. He told me to take the mug to drink on my drive back, saying I could return it next time we saw one another. I felt my heart beat a little faster. He wanted to see me again. I mattered to him. The long nights waiting at the train station platform and door rejections were beginning to feel worth it. As I left I wanted to give him a kiss, but lost my nerve. Instead I asked for his phone. He handed it to me and I put my number in.
‘So you don’t lose it and forget me.’
I thought I had said something wrong for a second because he registered a shocked look but it quickly turned into a smile.
‘I don’t know how that would be remotely possible.’
I smiled back at him before thanking him for the coffee, grabbing my bag, and getting into my car to go to work.
***
As soon as the door was closed and Sarah was gone Chris went into his kitchen to check the shed key was still in its place. It was. He walked into his back garden, noticing the fresh footprints in the grass she had caused. There was no sign of any damage. She hadn’t been inside. But still, she knew something was there. She must have seen him in the night. He was getting sloppy. He didn’t want her back in his life.
He got out a glass and the bourbon and poured himself one. He looked at his phone and her number. He couldn’t believe she had used the same words as his wife had when they first met. He thought of that night again, him standing in the rain, his jacket over her head as she climbed into the taxi. Him leaning through the window to give her a kiss as the rain ran down the back of his neck. He shook the memory off. It hurt too much.
Saving her number as train girl, just in case, he put his phone down and sipped his drink, looking towards his shed as he did. A wave of guilt at his betrayal washed over him. He had slept with a woman who wasn’t his wife. Walking upstairs he changed his bed sheets. He hoped she wasn’t stupid enough to come back to his house. He hoped she would get the message he wasn’t interested when he didn’t call. He hoped she wouldn’t try to learn any more about him and the contents of his shed. For her sake.
Chapter 26
6.43 p.m. – Kings Road, Cambridge
It took me a while to find my keys and unlock the front door and as I finally wrestled them out of my bag Natalie had already opened it. She looked at me in the way she did when she disapproved, arms crossed and eyes narrow. She took a step back, allowing me in, and shut the door.
I wanted nothing else than to get a cup of tea, maybe a piece of toast and go to bed. A full day of managing accounts after a night with barely any sleep made me feel unwell but I knew she wasn’t going to let me off the hook. Walking into the kitchen I flicked on the kettle.
‘So, are you going to tell me where you were last night?’
I should have told her I had been back to see Chris, to give him the stone. But I didn’t.
‘I told you, I went out with work friends.’
‘Sarah!’
‘I got drunk, crashed on a friend’s couch. I’m sorry, I should have texted.’
‘What friend?’
‘Just a friend.’
‘You were with John, weren’t you?’
I hesitated before answering. She had given me a get-out clause. And I was more than prepared to take it.
‘Fine. Yes.’
‘Sarah!’
‘I know, I know. I was out and he saw me and he sounded like he had changed.’
It frightened me how easy it was to lie to my sister.
‘I didn’t intend to stay. But we talked and talked and before I knew it, it was early hours. So I stayed.’
‘Did you even make it to work today?’
‘What is that supposed to mean?’
‘It means when you’re with him you …’
‘Natalie. Let it go.’
‘No, I don’t like who you are when you’re with him. So, did you go to work?’
‘Of course I did. I’m not stupid.’
‘Again – not stupid again.’
‘When will you ever let that go? So I lost my job once. Big deal, Nat, we all do at some point.’
‘I haven’t, and not everyone turns up to work pissed from the night before, Sarah.’
‘Please, Natalie.’
My plea worked and I watched my sister take a deep breath, calming herself.
‘I don’t approve.’
‘I know.’
‘I just don’t want to see you get hurt again.’
‘I know, thank you.’
‘Do you really think he’s changed?’
‘I don’t know, but it’s okay. I’ve changed; I’m tougher.’
‘If you’re tougher why go back?’
‘Because I still love him.’
Saying it out loud felt strange. It was true, but the love was different, diluted. When a man holds your soul for so long it’s tough to shake it free. I didn’t want to talk about John any more, just saying his name made me feel uneasy. I offered her a tea as a way to change the subject. Natalie knew what I was doing but allowed it. For now she was satisfied.
I couldn’t help but smile as I turned to get two cups despite it feeling awful to keep secrets from my sister. I didn’t know how she would react if I said I was with Chris. I’m sure it wouldn’t have been as easy.
It was shit of me to lie, but I now had an alibi if Chris ever messaged or called. I could go to his and say I was seeing John, knowing Natalie wouldn’t suspect anything. She’d just be disappointed in me for being weak. But I knew I wasn’t weak, I was strong. I knew being around him might be tough, and sometimes heart-breaking. But, I was going to find out what his secret was and show him a way to be happy again. Then I would tell Natalie. She would be angry with me for lying, but then, she would see my courage to do what I needed to. She would see, as I see, that Chris is a good man.
We had our tea and talked about our days, then George came home and they had dinner together. Giving me the excuse to go to my room. As I said goodnight Natalie gave me a look as if to say: ‘I hope you know what you are doing.’ It meant she wasn’t going to tell George, which was good. He didn’t like John very much and would no doubt try to talk me out of seeing him. She was giving me the benefit of the doubt. A free ticket, for now. It made me feel even guiltier. I tried to reassure her with a kiss on the head before going up.
Once in my room I walked towards my curtains to close them. Looking outside I saw someone on the street: a man. Looking my way. I couldn’t see his face as the evening sun was behind him, making him a silhouette, but no sooner had I noticed him than he turned and walked away quickly. I closed my curtains and climbed into bed, spending the rest of the night trying to sleep, hoping for a message from Chris.
Chapter 27
Julia’s diary – November 2013
I have never felt so lost as I have in the last month. It’s like a giant shadow has been cast wherever I stand that leaves me cold and alone. I don’t even feel like I should write anything down but he suggested it might do me some good to talk about how I’m feeling, despite being unabl
e to talk about it with him. He’s even given me some space and is waiting in the car for me. He told me I’d not written in my diary for months and today would be a good day to restart.
Perhaps it’s being here at Mum’s that has finally allowed me to let myself feel something. So, here I am, listening to the rain beat down on my mum’s kitchen window, feeling guilty because I’m relieved that she is gone. Over the past year she deteriorated fast and all but lost who she was. In the times she was with us I could see she wanted to die. Seeing that look in someone you love is so painful. I can’t put it into words other than to say it’s like my blood cried.
I want to tell Chris about how I am feeling but I don’t think he’ll understand, despite me knowing he would try to. I feel like it would make my guilt worse.
We came here so I could grab the last few things before going to the estate agent and putting my mum’s house on the market. It was far too big for me and besides, it was her house, not mine. But I can’t sell it. I knew as soon as we got here it would break my heart. I worry that when I leave I’ll lose her too. Which, even as I write it, I know is silly. A person isn’t tied to a house. It’s just a house. Just bricks and mortar. It’s not like I even grew up here. She bought it when I was twenty and moving out with a friend. Yet, I can’t bear to say goodbye to it.
I spoke to Chris about all of this and he said that I need not rush, that the house wasn’t going anywhere and wouldn’t cost much if it sat empty for a while. I told him that if we sold it quickly we could use that money to go towards our wedding and honeymoon. He said money wasn’t everything. He said that some things are much more valuable. He said that one day it might feel right, and until that day, I shouldn’t force it. I don’t know how, but he always finds a way to settle me. So, it’s not a goodbye, not yet.
Our Little Secret: The most gripping debut psychological thriller you’ll read this year Page 15