Poppy’s story about her strong princess making it to the riverbank on a raft made out of sticks and leaves would be beautiful. It broke Jenny’s heart that she wouldn’t be there to hear it.
Twenty-One
Millie
Concerned about disturbing her boyfriend, who lay snoring quietly beside her, Millie lay still, watching the treetops sway in the soft breeze outside his second-floor flat. What was she doing here? she wondered, wiping away the slow tear that slid from the corner of her eye. She loved Louis, got that flip in her tummy whenever she thought about him, but this wasn’t how it was supposed to be, she was sure. She’d imagined making love would be special. A sensual discovery of each other emotionally and physically that would bring them closer and bind them together forever.
This wasn’t any of that. She’d bunked off biology, which she really couldn’t afford to do – her mum would go spare if she knew – to come to his flat. This was the second time she’d been here, the third time they’d had sex, and still there’d been no mood-setting, no foreplay, no sweet endearments or whisperings of love, which she longed to hear.
Her first time hadn’t been anything like she’d hoped it would be. Basic sex in the back of his car, it had been rushed and actually quite rough. Painful, too, though she hadn’t told him that. So what were you hoping for when you agreed to come, then? Rose petals scattered on the bed? Soft music and scented candles? Christ, grow up, Millie. She was always going on at her mum not to treat her like a child, and here she was acting just like one because there hadn’t been flowers and violins and exploding white lights. But wasn’t that what she’d liked about Louis: the fact that he was the kind of man who knew what he wanted and went for it? He’d wanted her. He’d told her so. In fact it was the very first thing he’d said to her. Waiting for her outside the nightclub, he’d caught hold of her arm as she’d come out, leaned into her and whispered, ‘You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I want you.’ She could hardly believe his arrogance, but she couldn’t deny that the huskiness in his voice and the intense look in his eyes had sent a thrill of excitement through the entire length of her spine.
She’d noticed him watching her in the club, never taking his eyes off her as she’d danced with Anna. He was a bit old to be at Tramps, she thought at first, but he was bloody good-looking – had that dark, broody thing going on. Also, he was tall, tanned and muscular from working outdoors, definitely her type. She didn’t mind that he was an odd-jobbing builder, grabbing work where he could. He’d had a tough childhood. The oldest of four children of a single mother, he’d had to leave school at sixteen with few qualifications and take whatever job he could to provide for them all, he’d told her. He’d had few opportunities in life, but he’d made the best of his situation. He still looked after his mother, who was sick, apparently, making sure she had everything she needed. That couldn’t be easy for him with bills to pay on the house his ex-wife still lived in until it was sold, and debts to pay off, one of which was pressing. Millie respected him for caring enough to do that, loved him all the more because of it. She doubted her mum would approve of him, though, particularly given the age gap between them. Him being thirty was no big deal in Millie’s mind. Most women went out with older men, didn’t they? Sally’s husband, Dave, was ten years older than her.
Her mum was bound to think it was a big deal, though. She banged on endlessly about Millie not being distracted or dictated to by anyone and doing something with her life. Wasn’t she dictating, though, telling her she had to get her grades up, study hard, go to uni? Louis thought she was lucky having parents who were loaded and gave a stuff about her. Millie wasn’t so sure sometimes. It was hard trying to live up to her mum’s expectations.
Emily had warned her several times not to make the same mistakes she’d made. Millie despaired of that – her mum couldn’t see that she was basically saying that she and Ben were her mistakes. That she thought being married to her dad was a mistake. Despite all that, Millie had always thought their marriage was strong, that they were okay together, but from the shit going down now, they clearly weren’t. The smile seemed to have gone from her dad’s eyes. He looked nothing but worried and miserable. As for her mum, she seemed to be off the bloody wall, ranting on at him constantly, which she’d never done before; accusing him of being unfaithful.
Her dad wasn’t perfect, but Millie could never imagine him doing that. He had been working late a lot while taking over the practice, which she thought was understandable – he’d barely moved from his desk whenever she’d gone in with him on a Saturday – but he was always bringing her mum flowers, and she thought that was dead romantic. He listened to her – or he had before all this started – always looked at her with affection. He helped out around the house whenever he could. He even brought her tea in bed and massaged her shoulders when she felt tired, which seemed to be permanently recently. Was there a reason for that? Millie wondered, worrying quietly. But then she dismissed it. Her dad would know if there was. He wouldn’t be looking at Mum now with nothing but bewilderment in his eyes.
Would they split up? She didn’t want them to. She wasn’t sure she could bear it at home if her dad wasn’t around to lighten things. Goosebumps prickling her skin, she pulled up the sheet that was half covering her body and twisted her head to look at the man she’d given her virginity, her heart and her soul to. She was reassured when she felt that familiar little flip in her tummy. Things would get better, she was sure they would. She just had to be brave and explain to him what she wanted. She was a grown woman, after all. She could bring the scented candles and set the mood. It was way outdated to expect the man to do all the romancing.
He had extraordinary eyelashes, impossibly long; they almost brushed his high cheekbones as he slept. Studying him, she was tempted to reach out and touch them. A five o’clock shadow darkened his strong features, which only added to his rugged good looks. She hadn’t minded that it had been scratchy while they’d made love. He’d been desperate, frustrated, counting the days since the last time, he’d said, deep longing in his cobalt eyes as he’d pulled her into his arms, which Millie supposed was quite romantic.
She hadn’t been sure about going all the way with him at first. She’d wanted to take things more slowly, but she couldn’t expect him to live like a monk. He was a man, not some inexperienced kid hoping to lose his virginity, like the boys she’d dated previously. Her man. She didn’t know what the future held. She wanted to do her veterinary course. That had been her choice; her mum and dad weren’t pressuring her to go in any particular direction, though there was no doubt her dad was pleased, probably more so because Ben showed no inclination towards the sciences. Her mum was more concerned about her seeing through whatever it was she chose to do.
Millie wasn’t sure she wanted to study to be a veterinary nurse more than being with Louis, though. She loved him. Her hand strayed to his chest, her fingers tiptoeing downwards to trace the thin line of hair that disappeared below sheet level. She didn’t care that her parents would probably go apoplectic about his age. She wanted to be with him. She could do both, couldn’t she? Having a serious relationship didn’t mean she couldn’t apply herself to her studies. It would only make her more determined. She was doing all she could to help him pay off the man who was pressurising him for money; being dishonest, she reminded herself, a huge lump of guilt constricting her throat. Her parents would definitely freak out if they knew about that. Once she was earning money of her own, though, she could help out more, contribute to a place a bit more luxurious than the flat above the empty car workshop he was living in, which stank of oil. When the time was right, and when she’d plucked up the courage, she’d tell them that she intended to move in with him as soon as he asked her. She’d dropped subtle hints about it to him and was sure he would, now they were in a meaningful relationship.
‘Shit …’ She jumped as he moved suddenly to catch hold of her hand. ‘You almost gave me a heart attack.’
/> His mouth curved into a slow, suggestive smile. ‘That’s nothing to what you’re giving me, sweet cup.’ Nodding down to his groin area, he looked back at her with that same deep desire he’d had in his eyes when she’d arrived. ‘I want you,’ he said, his voice low and husky.
Tugging the sheet aside, he leaned over her, straddling her before she could stop him.
‘Not yet.’ She smiled nervously and pressed her hands to his chest.
A flicker of impatience in his eyes, he scanned her face questioningly.
‘I’m … a bit sore,’ she said, hoping he would understand. He’d had other relationships. Many. Of course he had, at his age. With his looks, he could have his pick of any woman he fancied, which was why she was keen to move in with him where she could keep an eye on him. Meanwhile, though, she desperately didn’t want to disappoint him.
‘I’ll be gentle,’ he promised, his mouth hungrily seeking hers.
‘I can’t.’ She used a little more force. ‘I … Oh fuck!’
‘What?’ Louis said, taken aback as she slithered hastily from underneath him. ‘You just woke me up. Why would you do that when I’ve been working since the crack of dawn unless you—’
‘I’m late.’ Millie flew around the room picking up her clothes and tugging them on. ‘I’m supposed to be going out for a meal with my mum.’
‘Yeah, right.’ Louis reached agitatedly to grab his smokes from the bedside table. ‘Give her my love.’
Millie frowned. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ He was always saying things like that: ‘Pass on my regards to her’ or ‘Give her my best’, which she couldn’t help thinking was sarcastic, as if he thought she was tied to her mum’s apron strings or something.
‘Nothing. I just have a lot on my mind, that’s all.’ Lighting up, he sighed and ran a hand through his tousled hair.
The pressing debt he had to pay, Millie guessed, to the man called Bear, who was as big as a bear and would rip his head off with his teeth if he didn’t meet his payments regularly.
‘Plus, I miss you when you’re not here, don’t I?’ he said, lying back on the bed. ‘Come over here and let me kiss those delicious lips of yours goodbye.’
Millie hesitated. She really did need to go.
‘I’ll sulk if you don’t.’ Giving her his best puppy-dog eyes, Louis stuck his bottom lip out. He looked like a petulant schoolboy. Millie laughed.
‘That’s better. You’re beautiful when you laugh,’ he said, his mouth curving into a languid smile as he patted the duvet next to him.
Twenty-Two
Emily
Having texted Millie and Ben to say she was running late, Emily attempted to compose herself as she drove home. She needed to mentally prepare herself for any questions they might have. Clearly they were both aware something was going on – Ben was shutting himself away in his room, as if he wasn’t already introverted enough; Millie was storming out and staying out, which caused Emily’s heart to twist with worry as she tried to imagine who she was with. She knew she had to be honest with them. To what degree, though? They’d heard her and Jake arguing. Should she say they were trying to work things out, which seemed unlikely after the heartbreaking argument they’d had? Prepare them for the possibility that their marriage might be irretrievably broken? She shouldn’t be having this meeting without Jake, but she couldn’t bring herself to include him when she believed he was lying to her. She couldn’t just leave her children wondering either, not when it was obvious – to her, at least – that they were suffering.
She still couldn’t believe that Jake seemed to think she was the one sending the letters, let alone that he had voiced his accusation – in earshot of Tom and Fran, of all people. Even Millie called the woman ‘Megamouth’. It would be the topic of conversation in no time, everyone imagining that she was responsible for what had happened to poor Zoe. To Natasha.
Her own husband believed she was. Emily felt a cold hollowness inside her, as if he’d already left her. He’d decided she’d sent the notes before he knew the contents of the email. In telling him, she realised that she’d only given him more reason to think that she had. Did he imagine now that she’d deleted the email to cover her tracks, assuming he believed it ever existed? He probably thought she’d sent the letter to Dean to deflect suspicion from the fact that she’d sent the first one, to Michael.
Why was she bothering trying to fathom out what he thought? she wondered, dangerously close to tears all over again as she pulled onto the drive outside their beautiful house. The painful reality was, he did think it was her. His anger had been palpable, the accusation and disappointment in his eyes unbearable. It seemed to Emily that there was no coming back from this. He clearly considered her capable of such a horrendous thing, as other people had in the dark days after Kara’s death. She’d wondered for a very long time herself whether she was. Whether that was why she’d blanked out the details of what had happened on the canal bank on that fateful day – because she didn’t want to imagine herself capable of such horrific actions.
Her heart heavy, she let herself in through the front door. ‘Just me,’ she called. Getting no reply, she glanced into the kitchen and the lounge, and then, realising that Millie and Ben were upstairs, went up herself to freshen up.
Hearing Millie’s voice coming from Ben’s room, she paused on the landing, surprised. Then, wrestling with her conscience, she took a step closer. She couldn’t quite believe she was now eavesdropping on her children as well as her husband, but if it meant she might find out more about how they were feeling, then she felt she had no choice.
They appeared to be having a conversation, rather than bickering, which was miraculous. ‘Do you think Dad has had an affair?’ she heard Millie say, causing her heart to expand excruciatingly in her chest.
‘Strikes me it’s one of the perks of the job,’ Ben answered moodily. Emily supposed he was referring to Tom, whose reputation both the children were aware of. ‘Makes you wonder why you’d bother having a meaningful relationship, doesn’t it?’
‘Like you wouldn’t want a meaningful relationship with Nicky,’ Millie teased.
Now Emily was definitely surprised. Ben had feelings for Nicky? Nicky at the surgery? She’d had no idea. He had been in a few times, but he’d barely uttered a word to her. He had looked at her, but now that Emily came to think of it, she did remember being slightly wary of the way he had looked at her. She supposed it was natural for a teenage boy to give a young woman an appraising look, but it had caused her a moment’s consternation. She didn’t know what was going on in her children’s lives, she realised, the knot of guilt in her stomach twisting itself tighter. Ben wasn’t one to share unless she prised it out of him, and Millie closed up like a book every time she tried to talk to her, especially about the subject of sexual relationships.
‘You do know that Nicky’s into older men?’ Millie went on.
Emily held her breath, her mind immediately swinging to Jake.
‘Sorry to shatter your illusions,’ Millie sighed expansively, ‘but she’s lusting after the silver fox, according to Anna. I mean, I get the older man thing – they’re so much more mature than younger men.’
‘Shrewd conclusion, Einstein,’ Ben mumbled facetiously.
‘God knows what she sees in him, though. He’s so ancient, he’s practically decrepit. I’m surprised he can get it up. Viagra, I suppose.’
‘Pack it in, Mils. That’s gross,’ he muttered.
‘Poor Ben.’ Taking no notice, Millie emitted another theatrical sigh. ‘Spurned in love at the tender age of eighteen.’
‘Fuck off,’ Ben growled. ‘I’m not in love with anyone. It sucks.’
‘Right,’ Millie replied amusedly. ‘“’Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.”’ She quoted Tennyson tauntingly at him as she headed for the door.
Stepping away, Emily ducked quickly into her own room. Closing the door, she leaned against it, a whirlpool of emotion churnin
g inside her. Was it her imagination, or had Ben’s tone been bordering on aggressive? As for Millie’s Viagra comment, Emily didn’t know whether to be relieved or appalled. It couldn’t be true, of course. However much of a womaniser he was, surely Tom would never allow himself to become involved with someone as young as Nicky. But hadn’t Jake seen them together? More worryingly, on the subject of age and relationships, what was this ‘I get the older man thing’ Millie had come out with? Emily had guessed she was seeing someone. She was assuming now it was someone older. But how much older? She had to talk to her, and carefully. She needed to get her daughter on side, not alienate her. She needed to confide in her in the hope that Millie might feel safe to do the same. She had her whole future ahead of her. Emily didn’t want her involved in a damaging relationship, which she knew all too well she easily could be.
‘Mum?’ Millie rapped on the door, causing her to start. ‘Are we going soon? I’m starving.’
‘Yes. Won’t be long. I’m just touching up my make-up,’ Emily called, and headed for the en suite to wipe the telltale smudges of mascara from under her eyes. Finding there wasn’t a great deal else she could do to improve things, other than scrubbing her face and starting over, she went to the dressing table to reapply her lipstick. Surveying herself critically, she reached to untie her hair, which she’d worn up in the hope of looking less of a bedraggled mess. Fran had complimented her, saying she looked nice, but Emily doubted she did. Jake certainly hadn’t noticed that she’d made an effort. She felt like a fool for trying. Sighing, she raked her fingers through it, heaved out another despairing sigh, and then tied it haphazardly up again. Millie’s hair was just like hers, but she always managed to arrange it artistically. She’d ask her for some tips, Emily decided. They had been close once, sharing girly things. They’d lost their way somewhere along the line. Was that her fault too? In pushing Millie to be all that she could be, had she driven her away?
Trust Me: An absolutely gripping and unputdownable psychological thriller Page 14