The Pact

by Dawn Goodwin

  ‘What do you mean, Jade?’ Maddie repeated.

  Jade sighed dramatically and flopped onto the couch. ‘I sorted it for you. Our deal? I did my bit. Now it’s your turn.’ She put her sock-clad feet up on the table.

  Maddie sank down next to her, the colour completely drained from her face. ‘What did you do?’

  ‘I may or may not have delivered some cakes to his house today. And those cakes may or may not have been laced with sesame oil. Just a little, mind.’ She smiled at Maddie wickedly. ‘From your reaction, I’m guessing it worked. You’re good, I’ll give you that. But don’t overwork it. You want people to believe you are bereft, but too much will make them suspicious.’ She lifted her mug to her lips.

  Maddie’s hand shot out and slapped the mug of hot tea into Jade’s lap. She shot to her feet, crying out in pain. ‘What the fuck? That’s hot!’

  Then Maddie was on her, grappling at Jade’s throat, throwing random slaps and punches, most of which were not connecting at all. Jade slapped back and flung her off. Maddie landed on her back on the floor, blood trickling from her nose.

  Jade loomed over her. ‘I’ll give you that one, but you won’t get another punch in, I promise you that.’ Jade’s eyes glinted with red-hot anger.

  Maddie sat up slowly and wiped at the blood. ‘You killed him,’ she said.

  ‘Yes – but you didn’t.’

  Maddie sat back on the edge of the couch, putting as much space between them as she could, and put her head in her hands.

  Jade swore under her breath, then went to grab a tea towel from the kitchen to mop up the spilled tea. When she was done, Maddie was still sitting, unmoving, her head still clasped in her hands.

  ‘The deal was that I would get rid of Greg for you and you would get rid of Mark for me. I’ve lived up to my side of the deal; now it’s your turn. I haven’t quite figured out the logistics yet, but I will. Greg was easy. As soon as you mentioned his nut allergy, I knew how I would do it. And there is no trace back to you at this stage. It looks like an accident – him just being stupid and not checking the ingredients.’

  ‘I thought you were kidding.’ Maddie’s voice was barely above a whisper.

  ‘Why would I?’

  Maddie’s head shot up. ‘Because people kid about these things. You know, they say, I could strangle him all the time, but they don’t mean it! I never wanted him dead!’

  Her face was a mask of disbelief and horror.

  ‘Is that true, though? Really? If that’s what you have to tell yourself, then go ahead,’ Jade said and shrugged. ‘Regardless, it’s done now and you have to help me to even the score.’

  ‘I don’t have to do anything for you. I was not involved. This is all on you. I’ll just go to the police, tell them what you’ve done. There’ll be evidence.’ Maddie rushed towards the front door with the look of someone who was trying not to throw up.

  ‘Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong,’ Jade said loudly, stopping Maddie in her tracks. ‘You see, I built in a bit of a security blanket if you will. It’s funny, but for a rich fella, he really should invest in one of those doorbells with a camera. You know, so you can see who’s at the door? He just opened it, quite happily. Jemima is very cute, by the way.’

  Maddie’s face morphed from disbelief into horror.

  Jade continued. ‘No one saw me arriving. No one saw me leave. But if the police ever look into it, the bakery box has your fingerprints on it and I have a receipt for the cakes that were bought with your debit card.’

  ‘But… how?’

  ‘I used the box from your red velvet cupcake. You know, the one laced with laxatives? Wow, that little joke escalated quickly. I hadn’t realised I’d put that much in, but you were a mess that day.’ She made fake retching noises and laughed. ‘Your fingerprints are all over that box. You know me, I always tuck my hands in my sleeves. That’s the thing with long hoodies, they’re very useful. And your debit card? You can have that back now. It’s on the counter over there. You really should be more careful about leaving your purse lying around. Anyone could walk in to, oh, I don’t know, maybe borrow some antihistamines and then take off with your card. No need for PIN numbers these days.’

  Jade really did think Maddie was going to throw up. She had gone from a translucent white to sickly green in seconds.

  ‘So if you ever go to the police or even suggest it wasn’t an accident to anyone, I’ll have you.’ Jade smiled sweetly, her teeth showing like a rabid animal, enjoying the game she was playing. ‘All it will take is one little call to the police suggesting they fingerprint the box. Now, maybe you should go and lie down. You look a little pale. Let me know when you’re ready to discuss our little arrangement again though.’

  *

  Maddie burst into her flat and did in fact rush straight to the bathroom to throw up. When it was over, she sat and hugged the toilet, gasping and panting, feeling her chest ache.

  Maybe she was having a heart attack.

  Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

  She couldn’t take in what Jade had told her. How had they got to this? She thought back to all the conversations they had had, the times Jade had talked about their apparent ‘deal’. She was so sure Jade had been joking… wasn’t she?

  The more she thought about it, the more she started to question herself. All those weird outbursts when she had felt uncomfortable with Jade’s words, her demeanour. She had ignored it, brushed it away as if it was nothing, good manners dictating that she politely ignore what was right in front of her. But what about all those thoughts she’d been having herself? Running away with Jemima? Wishing ill on Gemma? Was this karma?

  She pushed away from the toilet, flushed it and stood staring at herself in the mirror above the sink. She was waxen, her skin slick with oily sweat. She looked away.

  She needed to think, to figure out what to do, but all her mind kept thinking about was whether he had suffered. Had he been scared? Of course he had. Oh God, had Jemima been with him at the time? Maddie could feel panic clutching at her chest again.

  She lurched into the kitchen to the corner cupboard where she kept the few bottles of booze she owned. There was an unopened bottle of whiskey in the back of the cupboard. She’d bought it in case Greg wanted a drink when he came over. She usually hated the stuff, but it seemed fitting that this was what she latched onto now, cracking open the seal and pouring three fingers into a glass. She necked it, feeling the heat of it jolt her. She poured another more sensible measure and sat down heavily on the kitchen floor, the bottle between her legs.

  Time to think.

  What did Jade want? Mark out of the picture so that she had Ben to herself.

  Which means she would be expecting Maddie to return the favour, maybe by killing Mark somehow.

  There was no way she could do that.

  Maybe she could talk to Mark, get him to drop the custody battle altogether. But then she’d have to explain why she was there, wouldn’t she? Jade hadn’t actually told her how to find Mark yet, but she wouldn’t be happy with Maddie just giving him a stern talking to, would she? Not after what Jade had just done.

  But what about Ben? The idea that Jemima would grow up without knowing Greg made Maddie go cold. She couldn’t do that to Ben too. He was such a quiet, sensitive boy. This could only hurt him.

  Her brain swirled and dived in and out of thoughts, intertwined with memories of Greg, the other night when he’d been here, the last time she had seen him.

  She took another swig of the whiskey, wincing as it went down. She needed to pull herself together and figure this out, find out whether the police were suspicious, whether Gemma was suspicious. Because if they dug too deeply, Maddie could be in real trouble. Who would believe her if she said she had thought it was just a joke? Then there was that conversation she’d had with Greg only days ago. Incriminating to say the least.

  She needed to talk to Gemma, find out what actually happened. And to think she’d suspected Gemma at
first.

  She also needed to start building some evidence on Jade. Just in case.

  What had Jade called it? A security blanket?

  Her heart dropped through the floor of her stomach again. That was why Jade had insisted on them using Snapchat for their messages. It was because the messages vanished once they were read. Maddie hadn’t screenshotted any of Jade’s messages, but she knew for a fact Jade had screenshotted hers. She thought it was just because she wanted to keep track of their conversation, but it was all evidence against her.

  What had she said in those messages? Had she joked back about killing Greg? Made some flippant remark that would be incriminating if taken out of context?

  Oh God, could this get any worse?

  She needed air and space.

  She drained the glass, grabbed the bottle and fled the flat, heading up the stairs, past Jade’s door to the roof.

  It was empty tonight. No Luke in a deckchair; no cans of beer. Just the town laid out below her, the lights twinkling innocently.

  She desperately wanted to knock on Luke’s door, but also didn’t want to drag him into this.

  No, she was on her own.

  She stepped right up to the edge, her toes hanging in mid-air, and leant forward slightly, feeling a brief sense of weightlessness. The bottle dangled from her hand, heavy at her side. She unscrewed the cap and brought it up to her mouth, now used to the spicy bitterness of the alcohol. It was indeed helping to dull the pain in her chest. She swayed a little in the cold night air, goosebumps standing up on her bare arms.

  Look at those people below me, casually going about their business. They haven’t incited a murder today, have they? They aren’t being framed for something they haven’t done.

  They aren’t scared and alone.

  She started to weep again, but silently this time, the tears huge glass marbles rolling down her cheeks. She pitched forward again, this time further, felt her heels lift slightly from the roof.

  What would it feel like, she wondered, if she just leant all the way forward? Was it high enough to die from here?

  Would anyone care? Who was left to care? Only Greg would’ve missed her. Her mother was dead, her father hadn’t tried to speak to her in decades, she had no friends and no husband anymore.

  A fat tear fell onto her top lip, salty with grief. She tipped forward some more, feeling buoyed by the breeze.

  But if she did fall, if she decided to end it all now, would that be seen as an admission of guilt? Or would the police just put it down to her being the distraught ex-wife? Sorry, distraught wife since they were still married. That would be suspicious too, wouldn’t it? Oh God, his life insurance! Had he changed any of it?

  She was getting dizzy thinking about it again. She swayed and this time one of her feet left the ground completely. Her heart froze and she flung herself back from the edge, twisting her ankle painfully in the process.

  She panted into the night air, then limped over to Luke’s deckchairs and dropped into one, this time oblivious to the groans of protest from the wood and fabric beneath her.

  She tried to steady her breathing with another swig of whiskey, then set the bottle at her feet and sat all the way back in the chair, staring up at the night sky and letting her mind work through the thoughts ricocheting around her skull.

  ‘You ok?’ a voice said behind her. Luke lowered himself into the other chair.

  ‘Yes… no…’ she replied.

  ‘One of those nights, huh?’

  ‘You could say that.’

  They sat in silence for a bit and Maddie felt like it helped, just a little.

  ‘Have you ever looked out into the night and wondered why we bother with it all?’ she said quietly. ‘Why we carry on putting one foot in front of the other when everything is ultimately out of our control?’

  He heard him shift in the chair next to her. ‘We do it for the people around us, I guess.’

  ‘What if you have no one?’

  ‘Everybody has someone.’

  They sat in silence again. Maddie bit on her lip to stop herself from breaking into great heaves and gasps again.

  Eventually, Luke said, ‘For what it’s worth, I’m really pleased we met.’

  *

  Jade was pleased with how that had gone.

  Ok, so Maddie was visibly shocked, perhaps a bit more than Jade had anticipated, but all things considered, the air was now clear and Maddie knew exactly where she stood.

  She had to laugh out loud when she thought about Maddie saying she had thought Jade had been joking.

  What a load of bullshit.

  Maddie had known from the start that she had been serious. But Jade had to give her a Noddy badge for playing around with that excuse. She’d be good if the police ever did get in touch.

  Not that Jade cared much either way. She was convinced she was in the clear. Everything pointed to Maddie and, as long as she played things cool, Maddie would be too terrified to grass on her.

  And if Greg had left her anything in his will, then maybe Maddie would be inclined to pass something on to Jade for all her hard work. Once the dust had settled, of course.

  Now to fix this problem with Mark. Basically, all she had to do was point Maddie in his direction, wind her up and let her go. If Maddie messed it up, she was just a bit of collateral damage. No big deal.

  Besides, Jade had put all the hard work into coming up with the plan for Greg. It was Maddie’s turn now. Ok, so a bit easier in that Greg was local and had that very handy nut allergy, therefore handing Jade a wiped clean murder weapon, thank you very much. But still, Maddie could put in some work now. The less Jade knew about it, the better.

  But it needed to be done soon. Christmas was just around the corner and that would prove a tricky time in terms of the logistics concerning Ben. It was also Halloween soon. Mark would start making demands for trick or treating, wanting to see Ben for Christmas shopping, trips to see Santa Claus, all that shit.

  Time to amp up the pressure on Miss Goody Two Shoes downstairs.

  14

  The only signs of her distressing, sleepless night were the purple rings under Maddie’s eyes, but her expert touch with a make-up brush meant she looked fresher than she probably should for a grieving widow.

  And that was indeed what she was.

  She hadn’t pushed Greg to get the divorce sorted when she found out about the affair. She didn’t know why; maybe because she had hoped that he would change his mind, even after Jemima was born. Perhaps deep down she had some twisted notion that he would come to his senses, grab Jemima and come running back to her.

  It was thoughts like these that had kept her up all night, blaming herself, then absolving herself of all blame and pointing the finger firmly at Jade, then switching back to herself again. She’d tossed and turned as often as her mind had flipped and weaved, leaving her exhausted, drained and aching when she’d finally dragged herself upright that morning. The whiskey lingered on her cotton-wool tongue and in her brain, which felt like a hammer was chipping away at her skull.

  When she had woken up this morning from what little sleep she had managed, for a second everything was like it had been. Then it had hit her, a body blow. He was gone. The realisation had stayed with her, followed her around as got dressed slowly and carefully, ticking away at the base of her throat like a muscle spasm.

  She walked over to Greg’s – Gemma’s – house through the grey, drizzle-soaked streets.

  It was about 9 a.m. Mothers with pushchairs pushed past her at high speed, leaving behind them clouds of expensive perfume as they rushed toddlers to swimming classes and music sessions and playgroups. Others walked slowly, catching up on text messages and Instagram, now that their kids had been safely deposited inside the school gates.

  Maddie didn’t see any of them. She kept her hands in her pockets, her eyes averted, as her boots slapped the puddles.

  The gates to the house were open and Maddie stopped abruptly, her breath hitchi
ng when she saw his car in the driveway. She swayed on her feet, then crunched over the gravel to the front door.

  She hesitated with her hand over the doorbell, trembling slightly, then pressed the buzzer.

  Seconds later the door inched open.

  A woman with a helmet of grey, no-nonsense hair stood in the doorway.

  ‘Can I help you?’ Her voice had an unmistakable Surrey clip to it.

  ‘Um, hi, I was wondering if Gemma was in? I wanted to speak to her, pay my condolences…’ Her voice trailed off as she fought back tears – mostly of shame and revulsion, but to the bodyguard on the door it would look like shock and grief.

  ‘And you are?’

  ‘I’m Maddie, Greg’s… er…’

  ‘Oh.’ The look of distaste that passed over her face indicated that Maddie’s reputation certainly preceded her.

  ‘You must be Gemma’s mother? Nice to meet you. I wish it could’ve been under different circumstances. How is she holding up?’

  Maddie’s unerringly good manners thawed the gatekeeper somewhat and the door inched open a little more. ‘Ok, all things considered. Come in out of the rain. I’ll see if she is up to seeing you.’

  She closed the door behind Maddie and turned to go up the stairs, then said, ‘You can wait in the kitchen – and please don’t upset her.’

  Maddie did as she was told.

  Her eyes frantically scanned the kitchen as she perched on a bar stool at the enormous granite-topped island. The kitchen looked as immaculate as ever. No sign of fingerprinted bakery boxes or deadly cakes. She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting. The chalk outline of a body on the floor?

  She had the sudden bizarre urge to giggle and actually clamped a hand over her mouth in case a titter sneaked out.

  Maybe she was still drunk from the whiskey last night. She and Luke had finished the bottle in almost absolute silence and she had only vague recollections of dragging herself out of the deckchair and back down the stairs to her flat, his hand on the flat of her back, steering her carefully to her door. He’d left her then and she’d crawled under the duvet on the couch and stayed there, not even bothering to go to bed.