She didn’t want to preach to her daughter, but she was scared for her. Millie was young and impressionable, as she herself had once been. She could so easily be led astray. She’d tried subtly questioning her about her social life and got nothing but vagueness for answers. Telling her that she was worried for her, that she didn’t want Millie making the same mistakes she’d made, only invited the roll of the eyes that accompanied her daughter proclaiming she was ‘sixteen, not six’. She and Jake needed to sit down and talk to her, Emily decided. She would have a word with him later.
‘Shouldn’t you be leaving?’ she asked Ben, who was standing in the hallway by the front door, his art portfolio in one hand, his car keys in the other and an impatient look on his face.
‘I’m trying to, but she’s taking forever.’ He glanced despairingly at his sister.
Millie scowled at him in the mirror, and then went back to grooming her eyebrows. God forbid there was a hair out of place.
‘You look fine, Millie,’ Emily assured her. ‘You’ll need to get a move on if you’re not going to be late.’
‘I’m trying,’ Millie huffed. ‘What’s your problem anyway?’ she asked Ben. ‘You have a free period this morning, don’t you?’
‘To prepare for my ceramics exhibition,’ he pointed out exasperatedly. ‘Can’t you just get a move on, for fuck’s—’
‘Ben, language.’ Jake cut him short as he hurried down the stairs, roping his tie around his neck and waggling his watch arm at Millie as he passed her.
‘Sorry,’ Ben mumbled. Then, emitting a world-weary sigh, he dumped his portfolio against the wall and ran a hand through his dark mane of locks – grown long since starting his fine art course, apparently to assert his individual style. Emily had refrained from pointing out that he might actually be following the herd, since the majority of the male art students were similarly hirsute. ‘Mum, can you tell her, please?’ he appealed to her. ‘I’ve got loads to do and she’s making me really late.’
‘Come on, Mils.’ Sensing her son’s frustration, Emily chivvied Millie on. ‘He’ll leave you to walk otherwise.’
‘I’m coming, I’m coming.’ Millie turned grudgingly from the mirror, retrieved her shoulder bag from where she’d hung it on the stair rail and dropped her make-up bag into it. ‘I have my interview after college for the Saturday job at the vet’s. I can hardly go looking a complete mess, can I? This is important work experience for my future.’
‘So you couldn’t have got up earlier?’ Ben muttered. ‘Like, three hours earlier? Dunno why you’re bothering anyway. They’ll have loads of applicants.’
‘Because I like animals – present company excepted.’ Millie eyed him with disdain. ‘I’ve decided to apply for a foundation degree in veterinary nursing. What are your life goals, other than to starve for your art?’
Ben glared at her. ‘You have five seconds, Millie,’ he warned her, a thunderous look flitting across his face. ‘And then I’m gone, and you can find your own way there.’
‘All right. I said I’m coming. Keep your gorgeous hair on. Agitated doesn’t suit the carefully cultivated laid-back arty look.’ She gave him a flat smile and patted his cheek as she sailed by him to the front door.
Ben rolled his eyes. ‘Counselling,’ he mumbled, picking up his portfolio and trudging out after her. ‘I need advice on how to divorce my sister.’
‘I’ll let your father know.’ Emily smiled, and cautioned herself to ignore Ben’s flash of anger. It was justified, since his sister had been deliberately winding him up. ‘Good luck, Millie,’ she called. ‘And well done on getting the interview. Don’t forget you have to—’
‘Concentrate on my studies as well, get good grades, don’t let myself be distracted or dictated to by anyone …’ Millie picked up, with an irritated sigh. ‘Yes, Mum, I know. You tell me about a thousand times a week.’
‘Only because I care about you.’ Emily felt a bit hurt. ‘I just don’t want you—’
‘Making the same mistakes you did. I got that bit too.’ Millie smiled flatly over her shoulder and headed out the door.
Emily tried not to mind. She probably did go on a bit. Going into to the kitchen, she found Jake swilling back an instant coffee.
‘Let me know what?’ he asked warily. He looked absolutely shattered. She noted the dark shadows under his eyes and wished he would slow down a little.
‘Your son’s decided he needs counselling in regard to his sister,’ she informed him, glancing at the kitchen clock. The dishwasher needed emptying, but that would have to wait. Jake had a full list this morning and, as practice manager, Emily needed to be there. Their cleaner, Fran, who squeezed in a day at the house in between cleaning at the surgery, was due in later anyway. It wouldn’t hurt her to actually do a bit of work rather than nattering.
‘Again.’ Jake smiled amusedly. ‘Tell him I’ll make a referral.’
‘God forbid.’ Emily walked across to him to straighten his tie. Ben did have a tendency to lose his temper, something she was naturally wary of, particularly since the episode when, escorted home by the police after drinking far too much and arguing with another youth outside the pub one night, he’d openly challenged Jake. Jake had handled it well, although he’d been shocked by Ben’s sudden volatility. Emily had tried to reassure herself it was just normal teenage rebellion. Ben showed no signs of calculated malice, thank God. Underneath his moodiness, which, after all, was normal at his age, he was a sensitive soul, she was sure, artistic by nature like her. She wished he would confide in her more, but she doubted he would easily open up to anyone.
‘Do you think she’s serious?’ Jake asked, nodding after Ben and Millie.
‘About the foundation course? She seems to be.’ Emily turned to grab her multivitamin tablets, washing them down with the coffee Jake had made her. He wasn’t convinced they actually did any good, but the woman at the healthcare shop had persuaded her they would help reduce her levels of stress and anxiety and also improve her memory and mood. Emily wasn’t entirely convinced either, but the way she was feeling at the moment, anything was worth a shot. Remembering that the bottle she kept on her desk was running low, she made a mental note to collect some more at lunchtime.
‘She’ll need to buckle down and apply herself at school,’ Jake said, depositing his mug in the sink and then grabbing his case from where he’d left it on the kitchen island.
‘As I keep reminding her.’ Emily sighed, worrying afresh about the impact Millie’s late nights would have on her grades. Jake had been out on a call when she’d rolled in last night. He’d been here the previous time she’d come home the worse for wear, though, and was as worried about her as Emily was. ‘We probably need to have a talk to her, present a united front,’ she suggested. ‘Shall we have a chat about it, make sure we’re singing from the same hymn sheet? Later this evening, maybe?’
‘Can do. I’ll make sure to get back a bit earlier,’ Jake promised. ‘Oh, and in case I forget, could you have a word with Ben? He left the back door unlocked again when he was out smoking last night.’
Emily noted his despairing look and sighed inside. Having met with a ‘we can’t all be perfect’ comment from Ben the last time he’d tried to point out the health risks of smoking, Jake tried not to go on at him. Emily dearly wished Ben wouldn’t smoke. Aside from the health issue, it was an addiction, and that worried her. Harsh reality had jolted her from her own addiction, but if Ben had inherited a propensity for dependency, would he be able to easily give it up?
‘I’ll leave him a note,’ she said, as she went to the hooks on the utility room door for the spare key. At least if Ben kept one on his key ring it might remind him to lock up after himself before they were all murdered in their beds. Finding it missing, she sighed again, wearily, and added ‘get key cut’ to her mental to-do list.
‘Are you leaving without breakfast again?’ she asked, an admonishing edge to her voice as she turned back to find Jake swinging towards the hall.
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br /> ‘No time. I’ll grab something from the village shop on the way.’
‘Make sure you do,’ Emily said, thinking she sounded more like his mother than his wife. But then someone had to keep an eye on him. He skipped too many breakfasts and worked far too many late nights now that his father was retiring. Jake and Tom shared partnership of the practice and Tom still worked part-time, but he’d wanted to be less involved to free up his time so he could concentrate on his role as chair of the clinical commissioning group governing body. Privately Emily couldn’t help thinking his time might be better managed if he didn’t spend a large proportion of it chatting up every attractive woman in the village. For Jake’s sake, though, she avoided commenting.
‘Yes, miss,’ he called from the hall. ‘Don’t forget you have your blood test with Sally this morning. See you there.’
He was worried about her, thinking her recent dizziness, fatigue and general inability to concentrate might be symptoms of anaemia. She’d thought it was just due to her inability to sleep – which, Jake had pointed out, was also a symptom of anaemia, along with the bouts of nausea she’d had. She was glad that he cared, but wished he wouldn’t worry with so much on his plate. It was probably just a virus she couldn’t shake off.
‘I’ll be ten minutes behind you,’ she called back. ‘Don’t forget you promised Edward Simpson you would oversee the duck race at the village fair on Saturday,’ she reminded him. ‘You’ll need to ask Tom if he’ll cover the emergency surgery. It won’t hurt him to—’ She stopped, cocking an ear as she heard Jake’s mobile ring. That was probably Tom now, wondering where he was, or else their receptionist, Nicky, wondering where she was. It looked like she would probably be skipping breakfast again too.
‘Dr Merriden,’ she heard him answer. The phone pressed to his ear, his eyes flicked to hers as she stepped into the hall. ‘I’ll have to call you back,’ he said quickly and ended the call.
‘Anyone interesting?’ Emily asked him curiously. He wasn’t normally so brusque with callers, even unwanted ones.
‘Just a sales rep,’ he said, giving her a short smile as he pocketed the phone.
‘Oh, right.’ Emily watched him leave. He hadn’t kissed her goodbye, which he always did. Idiot. She pulled herself up. He was tired, distracted, and she was being ridiculous. The vivid dream hadn’t helped, bringing back too many memories she dearly wished she could forget. Perhaps Jake was right about the blood test, she pondered, collecting her own phone as it beeped with a text. It would be nice to get to the bottom of what was going on.
Assuming the message was from Nicky, she flicked to her texts and her heart skipped a beat. Thoughts with you, it said. That was all. It was a wrong number. It had to be. The message was almost one of condolence, which had to be a cruel irony. She thought of the first mysterious text, talking about her ‘special day’. The sender couldn’t know of the birthday she’d shared, the tragic significance of that date.
She should call them. It was a personal message. Whoever it was would want to know they were texting the wrong person. Her mind made up, her heart now beating a rapid drumbeat in her chest, she called the number, cleared her throat – and stopped breathing. ‘We’re sorry; you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service,’ a monotone voice informed her. ‘If you feel you …’
Reaching for the hall table as the floor loomed up to meet her, Emily stopped listening.
Two
After a full-on day, with their phlebotomist, Sally, going home sick in the middle of it, meaning some blood tests had to be cancelled – fortunately not hers – Emily was relieved when the last patient left. Fatigued understated how she felt. Every ounce of energy had drained from her body reading that damn text. It had obviously been sent in error, as had the previous one. She hadn’t shared details of her past with anyone. Jake knew about her sister, but she hadn’t told him everything. She’d wanted to. Many times she’d been tempted to, but she’d bottled out each time, knowing it could blow her world apart. Blow Jake’s world apart.
She watched him come out of his office now, courteous and caring as always, as he walked Edward Simpson to the door. Edward had seemed a bit down lately, she’d noticed, which was unusual. A stalwart, backbone-of-the-village sort heavily involved in the organisation and running of charitable events, such as the upcoming summer fair, he was normally upbeat and positive. He’d been one of the first people to welcome them when they’d moved here. At the time, Jake had felt some trepidation about the move. He’d made up his mind years ago that he would never come back to the village he’d grown up in. After losing his mother so heartbreakingly, he’d felt there was nothing here for him to come back to, which Emily had thought was terribly sad. He’d been pleased to see Edward, though, and Emily had seen immediately that their neighbour had a caring, generous nature. She’d often thought it was Edward who kept the community together, giving up his time to visit people he suspected might be in need of assistance or company. Thinking about all that he did, she supposed he might be feeling a bit under the weather, particularly as he also had to care for his wife, Joyce, who suffered from polymyalgia rheumatica and unstable angina. When the polymyalgia flared up, she struggled even to get dressed in the morning. But she still generally managed to keep smiling, as did Edward.
She would pop in and see them both, Emily decided, coming around the reception desk to have a quick word with Edward. She wasn’t sure he would accept any offers of help gracefully, determined as he was to do everything for himself, but she could maybe do a bit of shopping for them, help lighten his load a little. He was fit and healthy, but he wasn’t exactly a spring chicken. Joyce had mentioned he would be retiring soon. At least then he would have more time on his hands to devote to the things he clearly loved doing. Walking across to where he and Jake were chatting, she reminded herself to do something about organising a party at the village hall for Edward’s upcoming seventieth birthday. Joyce wanted to do something special for him, she’d confided when she’d last been in to see Jake. She would struggle with the practicalities of organising anything, though, and it might spoil the surprise a bit if Edward had to organise it for himself.
‘Everything all right, Ed?’ Emily asked him, giving him a cheery smile. ‘How’s Joyce?’
Edward smiled warmly back. ‘Not bad, lovely,’ he assured her. ‘Joyce is jogging along. She has her off days, but still she refuses to give in and have the odd lie-in in the mornings, stubborn woman.’
‘Because she has a good man to get up for,’ she reminded him, giving his arm a fond squeeze.
‘Her garden, you mean. It’s that she gets up for. She’s always out there, weeding and cutting and pruning. I can’t keep up with her when she gets something into her head. I found her trying to heave the lawnmower from the shed yesterday. She’ll be the death of me, I swear.’ He sighed despairingly, but he had a fond twinkle in his eye, Emily noted.
‘She’ll have fewer off days now we’ve got her on the right medication.’ Jake smiled encouragingly. ‘She’s already more like her old self. Hopefully we can start tapering the steroids down soon, which will minimise the side effects. I’m expecting you two to enjoy many happy retirement years together, Ed.’
‘Fingers crossed.’ Edward smiled back, but Emily noticed the worried look flitting across his ruddy features. Appearing to shake himself, he gave her a wink and nodded back to Jake. ‘He’s a good lad. I hope you’re looking after him.’
‘Too well,’ Jake indulged him, patting a non-existent paunch, also reminding Emily that she’d completely forgotten to get something out of the freezer for dinner in the mad rush this morning. Ah well, Ben and Millie could have pizza and she would book a table at the pub for her and Jake so they could discuss their worries about Millie in peace, assuming he did manage to get back early, rather than working until some ridiculous time on the mountain of paperwork that came with the handover of the partnership. He’d had to work late a lot over the last few months, as
his father had relinquished his responsibilities. It couldn’t be healthy.
‘I was so busy talking about myself just now, I forgot to thank you for your help when Joyce took ill last month, Jake,’ Ed said, his voice emotional. ‘If it wasn’t for your quick action when she rang, she might never have seen her beloved roses bloom again.’
‘All part of the job, Ed.’ Jake shrugged selflessly. It hadn’t been, Emily knew. The second Jake had realised Joyce might be suffering with the symptoms of a giant cell arteritis – a known development of polymyalgia rheumatica that could have rendered her suddenly and permanently blind or resulted in a stroke – he’d raced out of the surgery to drive her to the hospital himself.
‘Above and beyond the call of duty, I’d say.’ Ed gave him a grateful smile. ‘There’s not many people who would go the extra mile.’
‘Time was of the essence. You only live two minutes away, so it wasn’t a problem,’ Jake assured him. ‘We’ll see you both on Saturday, yes?’
‘Will do.’ Ed waved as he turned for the door. ‘I hope you’ve been keeping fit for the duck race.’
‘Rigorously. Jogging, swimming, weights. The lot,’ Jake lied. He jogged, but only when he could find the time, which wasn’t as often as he would have liked.
‘Those little buggers can be fast when the will and the tide takes them,’ Ed warned.
‘I’ll be ready for them, Ed,’ Jake promised, casting a puzzled glance in Emily’s direction.
‘Jolly good.’ Ed chuckled as he left, with more jauntiness to his walk than when he’d come in. He certainly seemed in better spirits for talking to Jake, who always made time to listen. His appointments spilling over didn’t help his schedule, of course, leaving him running perpetually behind and Emily apologising to waiting patients, but she tried not to mind. She wouldn’t have him any other way.
Trust Me: An absolutely gripping and unputdownable psychological thriller Page 2