Knife Edge
Page 3
… or had she? Had she been so preoccupied about him cheating on her that she’d missed everything else? So busy telling herself that he wouldn’t be unfaithful that she’d drowned out the other warnings?
Kim closed her eyes.
Perhaps he’d been more honest than she had. Perhaps she’d always suspected, but had pushed it all under the carpet, lying to herself. What did that make her?
‘Hey.’ His voice seemed calm, but he was looking at her intently, his head inclined. ‘Did you want to talk?’
Caught off guard, she could only stare at him blankly.
How was she meant to respond to this? Where did she even begin?
He nodded and looked down.
‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to …’ He trailed off, his hand drifting up to rub absently at his jaw.
Kim blinked and breathed. His silence cried out for her to say something.
‘Are you going to tell me … what happened?’ she managed.
His eyes flickered up to hers for a second, then down again.
‘I don’t want to lie to you, Kim.’ It was strange to hear that tentative note in his voice, as though he was wary of each word. ‘I want you to know, I need you to understand, but …’
He shook his head, frowning, considering how to proceed.
‘… not details. Not yet, anyway.’ His eyes found hers. ‘Let me tell you about that in my own time, OK?’
She found herself nodding. There was an unfamiliar vulnerability in his expression that touched something inside her – his determination to share something so secret with her spoke of profound closeness and staggering trust. For a moment, she was overwhelmed by how hard it must be for him, and what it meant. And yet, it was impossible not to ask him.
‘Can you tell me why?’
She watched as he wrestled with the question, his brows tightening to a pained frown. Finally, his shoulders dropped and he sighed.
‘It’s … complicated. I want to share everything with you, really, but it’s not easy to explain …’
He looked at her for a moment, frustration tugging the corner of his mouth down, then lapsed into silence.
Kim nodded again, sensing the turmoil that he was in, but more desperate than ever to know something, anything. Anything that could help her to try and make sense of things. She had to ask him a question that he could answer. Nothing too specific, not yet, but something that would open the door a little wider.
‘Rob …?’
He waited, staring down at his glass, one finger tracing a slow circuit around the rim. She hesitated, then spoke the words.
‘What was it like?’
Now it was his turn to be caught off balance. Something in his expression seemed to come alive as he looked at her, took a deep breath, then turned his head towards the sea. When he finally spoke, his voice had a soft, almost reverent tone.
‘It’s … incredible. You have no idea.’
She watched him, fascinated, unable to look away as that light came into his eyes. What was he reliving? In that moment, for the first time, she wondered if she should be afraid of him – properly afraid. How strange that the idea hadn’t occurred to her before. But as he turned back to her, his face softened, intensity giving way to peace. He wasn’t going to hurt her.
As if by some unspoken agreement, they slid closer together, moving simultaneously like a normal couple would. He put his arm around her shoulder, nuzzling her hair as she rested her head against him, and stared out at the sea. His chest felt warm against her cheek, and she could hear his heartbeat, steady and calm, as his hand stroked her arm.
He cared for her. She mustn’t lose him.
Anything was better than being alone. Even this.
She came out of the bathroom and padded through to the bedroom. He was already in bed, his broad chest bare above the duvet. His eyes followed her for a moment, then turned away as she made her way across to the tiny dressing table.
From the beginning, he’d always encouraged her to sleep without clothes. He’d ignored her self-conscious nature, seeming to delight in her naked form. At first, she’d felt terribly exposed, though in time she began to find his attention gratifying and there was a strange thrill in submitting to him. But tonight, she felt different, oddly uncomfortable, as she had done back when they’d first met.
She placed her make-up bag on the table, looking at her reflection in the mirror – so ordinary, so plain. Was he watching her now, his eyes on her back as she hesitated? She bit her lip and her shoulders dropped a little. She found herself hoping that he was.
Slowly, she pulled her top up and over her head, and began to undress.
She just wanted the thoughts to stop, wanted to push all the confusion out of her head.
Stepping out of her underwear, she could feel her heart racing. Slowly, deliberately not covering herself, she turned around.
He was gazing at her, his eyes intense, thoughtful. He pulled the duvet aside for her and she walked across to the bed. It was all too much.
As she lay down, his strong arm enfolded her and pulled her against him. The last of her reluctance melted away, and she gratefully allowed his touch to push her objections aside. Closing her eyes, she welcomed the inevitable movements that brought them back together and drove out her fears. For tonight, that would be enough.
4
Saturday, 31 May
It was raining as they turned off the main road, a mournful shower that drizzled down through the open archway of trees lining the lane. The bowling green slid past, a perfect square of unnatural colour, lush in the wet behind its tidy box hedges, and the dark water of the river surged beneath the low bridge. Kim looked up at the grey sky and sighed.
Nearly home.
It felt strange, driving back into the village, as though she’d been away for years. Everything from before he’d told her seemed such a long time ago now. They slowed as the road swept around to the right, past the Pembroke Arms, then turned off as they reached the grassy square, the indicator clicking in time with the raindrops that pattered on the windscreen. Rob found a space just beyond the house and parked the car.
She sat for a moment while he got out and grabbed the cases from the boot. One final deep breath, oddly loud in the quiet of the car, and then she made herself open the door. The rain was cold on her face as she emerged and she drew her jacket collar about her throat. Everything looked the same but it felt different as she stepped around the puddles, following him to the house.
‘Got your keys?’ He indicated the cases, one in each hand, and looked towards her expectantly.
She nodded and reached into her handbag, fishing out the keys, which had somehow worked their way into a side pocket, and moving beside him to unlock the door. As it swung open, she stepped into the quiet stillness, aware of his footsteps behind her as she walked into the hallway and shrugged her bag from her shoulder.
Who was this man standing behind her, putting down her case? She caught her breath as the front door shut behind her, confused by such a familiar sound making her jump.
‘Coffee?’ He was beside her now, his voice close to her ear. ‘The milk will be out of date but I’m sure there’s some creamer in the cupboard.’
She turned her face towards him but kept her eyes downward.
‘Thanks.’ Her voice wavered slightly, as the tightness in her throat stole her breath. She needed some space, a moment to think. ‘I’m just popping up to the loo.’
Kim could feel his eyes following her as she climbed the stairs, willing herself not to panic, not to run. What was the matter with her? How could she feel so unsettled in her own home?
She hurried into the bathroom and closed the door behind her, her fingers moving to slide the bolt across – a strangely unfamiliar motion. Rob had routinely walked in on her, gently teasing her for her shyness, doing so until she had abandoned her modesty and accepted him being in there with her. She never locked the door now … unless they had someone else staying with them.
The house seemed quiet the following evening. At another time, the subdued atmosphere might have seemed like the natural comedown after a week away, but Kim was disturbed by it as she made her way through to the kitchen. Her initial panic was gone now but she remained on edge, unable to settle back into the normal routine of the weekend.
She needed to calm down, get her head together before she ruined everything.
Rob had disappeared upstairs to do some work and she moved restlessly between rooms, looking for something to distract her. Pouring herself a glass of wine, she picked up a magazine from the worktop and sat down at the kitchen table, flicking through the pages.
The phone startled her when it rang.
Kim twisted around to retrieve it from her pocket, then peered down at the screen to see who was calling.
Sarah.
Normally a phone call from her big sister was something she looked forward to. True, they hadn’t always been close, but in recent years things had improved between them and they’d begun to confide in each other once again, whether the news was good or bad.
Kim hesitated, a sudden doubt gnawing at her as she let the phone ring in her hand. She wanted to tell Sarah everything, but this was no petty regret or bedroom confession, to be whispered into the microphone and absolved by a gasp and a squeal of suppressed laughter. What was she going to do?
Her sigh was drowned out by the ringtone as she resigned herself and answered it.
‘Hello?’ Trying to sound cheerful, as she propped her forehead on her free hand.
‘Hey, sis!’ On another day, Sarah’s bubbly, high-pitched voice might have made her smile. ‘So, how was your little holiday?’
Kim shut her eyes. She’d been dreading this, on some subconscious level, ever since the night he’d told her. Keeping secrets was alien to her, especially keeping someone else’s.
‘It was fine.’ Her own voice sounded so flat.
‘Was the cottage nice?’
‘Yes, lovely.’ She needed to say more, anything. ‘It was this really remote place, miles from the nearest village. And it was right on the cliffs. You could look out of the windows and see the sea.’
‘Mmm, sounds very Daphne du Maurier. Did it rain much? It was bloody awful here.’
‘Once or twice. But it wasn’t too bad.’
Her sister gave a dirty laugh.
‘Yeah, well I’m sure you and Rob found ways to entertain each other. Remember that time when Simon and I were in Italy and we had that downpour that lasted three days …?’
Her voice babbled on, but Kim couldn’t follow her. She wanted to say something, but every sentence threatened to get away from her, to reveal what Rob had told her, and she knew now that she couldn’t tell anyone about that. Not her sister, not anyone. And yet, how could she keep something so awful to herself?
‘Hello? Kim?’ Her sister’s voice was calling to her impatiently.
‘Sorry, Sarah. What were you saying?’
‘It doesn’t matter. Are you OK? You don’t sound like your usual self.’
She couldn’t tell Sarah, could she? Sarah wouldn’t understand. But then, she didn’t understand herself …
‘Kim?’
‘I’m just tired,’ she managed, painfully aware of the weariness she felt. That much was true at least.
‘Have you and Rob had a fight?’
For a moment, she was surprised by the notion. But it was a natural assumption for her sister to make, so much easier to accept than the truth. Should she take refuge in that idea? Use it as a cover, to deflect more difficult questions? No, she didn’t want Sarah asking Rob what was wrong.
‘Kim, tell me … What’s the matter? Have you guys had a fight?’
It was the whole truth or nothing. Kim bowed her head in frustration, rubbing her eyes with her free hand. If she told Sarah, she could never take it back, never unsay it. She’d be stepping beyond the point of no return, turning her back on Rob—
‘No,’ she said, straightening. ‘I’m just exhausted. Too much fresh air and a lot of late nights – you know what I mean.’
She felt the moment slipping away, and then it was gone.
‘Anyway, how’s Simon liking his new job?’
She had committed herself to Rob, to keeping a secret that she didn’t know the end of. She prayed she was doing the right thing.
They made love again that night. It was like make-up sex, but laced with an almost desperate intensity – this was no petty argument to be brushed aside after all. She welcomed him into her eagerly, finding comfort in his touch, a reassuring recognition in his eyes. The sensations in her body drove out the disquiet, and afterwards, exhausted, she slipped away into sleep before her doubts could creep back.
In the morning, as she looked over at Rob, with his hair untidy and his limbs sprawled across their bed, it was hard to believe what he’d told her. She watched the gentle rise and fall of his shoulder blades, the calm abandon of his expression as he slept. Someone so perfect, and he’d chosen her …
But what had he done?
She sighed, pushing away the thoughts as she pushed back her hair, then slid her legs out from the warmth of the duvet, tentatively pressing her toes into the carpet. Now, as the Monday-morning routine kicked in, the drama of the last week seemed distant, uncertain. She yawned, waiting for the digits on the bedside clock to tick over. 6.59 …
… 7.00.
The alarm came to life, an insistent buzzing tone that cut through the quiet of the bedroom. She watched him stirring, saw his face crumple into a frown as he turned his head away, one arm lifting slowly as though suspended by a puppet string, searching for the snooze button.
‘Seven o’clock,’ she murmured to him, just as she always did when she woke first. There was comfort in routine. Leaving him to bury his face in the pillow, she stood up and walked through to the bathroom.
Had he really killed someone?
Somehow, the question didn’t seem quite so awful this morning. How could that be? Was it wrong that her horror was being diluted by curiosity? Leaning forward over the sink, she studied herself in the mirror, wondering all the while how it might have happened.
Maybe it was self-defence …
Perhaps he had been in a situation where he’d had no choice – kill or be killed.
She carefully applied a squeeze of toothpaste to the brush and glanced back up at her reflection.
Was it a woman or a man …?
A man, almost certainly. He had told her it wasn’t sexual, after all.
In the mirror her face looked calm. Thoughtful maybe, but strangely untroubled by the questions that occupied her mind.
Perhaps it had all happened a long time ago – something from his past, from before they met. A fight that got out of hand, or a terrible mistake? She visualised a number of different scenarios, trying to justify each notion to herself, wondering if any of her theories might be true. All the time being careful not to let her imagination roam too far.
She saw him appear behind her, movements still weary from sleep, eyes half closed as he drew close to plant a kiss on her bare shoulder.
‘Morning.’
She reached up, caressing his head with her hand as he put his arms around her, his hands clasped over her stomach.
‘Morning,’ she replied. Was she being naive about things, or bravely fighting to hold on to the relationship she’d always wanted? Whatever had happened in the past, it didn’t change how she felt about him right now. Cradling his head, she leaned it against her own, and watched as the couple in the mirror smiled back at her.
Despite waking second, he was out of the bathroom quickly and left the house before her. A meeting in Swindon or somewhere – she hadn’t really heard all the details as he’d called up
to her from downstairs – so she’d have to drive herself to work today. It was as though nothing had happened, life was returning to normal.
Normal.
She’d chosen a smart navy jacket, but the matching skirt left her legs feeling cold as she stepped outside, pulled the front door shut and locked it. The sky was a sullen grey. There had been more rain in the night – a dry patch of tarmac indicated where Rob’s car had been – and she kept off the grass verge, walking around the side of the house to where her own car was parked. The seat felt cold against the back of her legs when she got in, but she turned the heater up to full, and the radio on, to make things more comfortable.
He was the same person he’d always been.
There had to be a reason for it all, some hidden truth that would make sense of the little she knew. He would open up to her in time, tell her what had happened, help her to understand. It would be all right. He loved her and she loved him. For now, she just had to be patient, not do anything stupid, not drive him away.
The main road wasn’t too busy as she turned out of the lane – she had missed the worst of the traffic. On the outskirts of Salisbury, a good song on the radio caught her attention, and she turned up the volume, singing along as she approached the city centre.
The car park was almost full when she bumped up onto the entrance ramp, but she threaded her way round to a narrow space and manoeuvred in between the white lines. The music died as she switched off the ignition and she sat for a moment, her hand on the door handle.
Rob had been honest with her. However bad it was, however difficult it had been to hear, he had respected her too much to lie.
All she had to do was keep the secret.
She stepped out into the cool morning, locking the car before hurrying out onto the pavement to join the stream of people, all on their way to a normal Monday at the office.
She could do this. She would make it work.
A breeze squalled along the street behind her, whipping strands of her hair around into her face as she stopped outside the familiar white-brick building.
She wouldn’t let him down.