But, I'm not sure I get the joke. The flat is clean and tidy. Though, I have to admit, it's mainly thanks to Joel.
'Well, it's okay now.'
'Now I've left, you mean?'
I stifle a laugh. 'When will I see you again?' I say, in a mocking sing-song tone.
'How about Saturday night? If you're not with loverboy, that is,' she says.
'I've got a party to go to. Chloe, a work colleague. It's her twenty-first.'
'How about next week?'
'Sure.'
'So, how are things going with Joel?'
'He's been very kind. He bought food and . . .'
I stop talking then, not sure if I should divulge any more of my recent bad luck, in case Rose thinks I can't cope without her. But, she seems to have a sixth sense when it comes to picking up on other's woes, and she instantly draws my attention to the very thing I'm trying to hold back from telling her.
'What are you hiding from me?' she says. 'What's going on?'
'I've had one of those weeks.' I try not to let on how bad it’s really been.
'Haven't we all,' she says.
I breathe a sigh of relief, knowing she isn't going to tell me I should leave the flat immediately, and come to stay with her and Jared. I have no intention of telling her about the attempted break-in, or the theft from my bank account. But, I can't keep everything from her. She'll manage to wind it out of me eventually.
'He's asked me to move in with him.'
'Already? Bloody hell, Erica. Are you sure that's wise? I mean, you haven't been together very long. It's only been, what, three weeks?'
'It's just that . . . he has a point.'
'He's not putting pressure on you, is he? Cause if he is, I know the old Erica would've decked him.'
'What do you mean?' I say, unable to hide the disappointment in my voice. I thought Rose was on my side, through thick and thin.
'I don't know. It's just a feeling.'
'A feeling?'
'When you're in love, you only see what you want to see,' she says.
'And what do you see?'
'I don't know. There's just something not right about him. Something I can't quite put my finger on.'
'What are you hinting at?' I can hear the irritation in my voice, and have to stop myself from jumping down her throat in defence.
'I just have a feeling about him I can't even word.'
'So, you're willing to shut him off, just because you have a feeling?'
'Please don't get angry with me, Erica. You're my best friend. Soul sisters, remember? When have I ever said anything out of turn…or, no, forget that,' she says, hearing me laugh. 'What I mean is, I've always been straight with you. What reason would I have not to be? I just think maybe there's something else going on here. That's all.'
'I'd love to know what it is you think you know that I don't, considering you haven't spent more than five minutes in a room with Joel.'
'Please, Erica. Listen to me. I care about you. I don't want you to get hurt.'
'Hurt? I'm mad you could even think that of him, when you don't even know him.'
'Erica . . .' she pauses.
I can hear keys jangling and a few whispered words.
'I have to go, but I'll call you later when I get home,' she says, clearly not comprehending how much her words hurt.
'Don't bother,' I say, ending the call, and slamming the phone down hard onto the counter top
We've never fallen out like this before, and especially not over a man. Is she jealous of what Joel and I have, because of her own insecurities with Jared? Or does she fancy Joel for herself?
I dial Joel's number to thank him for the food.
His breaths are ragged, and he sounds busy when he answers the phone.
'I'm sorry. Have I called at a bad time?'
'No, I was just leaving the office.'
'I've fallen out with Rose,' I say, unable to hold back my temper any more.
'Is this not something women do, a lot? Fall out with their friends, I mean.'
'Actually, no. Not ever. Rose and I are rock solid.'
'Right. So, what is all this about then?'
'I think she's jealous of us spending so much time together.'
'I didn't realise we were.' he says. There is a deliberate hint of sarcasm in his voice. After a short pause, he says, 'does it really matter what Rose thinks?'
'I guess not.'
'Then, what's the problem?'
'I just wish she'd give you a chance.'
'What exactly has she said?' he says, obviously annoyed.
'She said we're moving too fast.'
'Perhaps we are. Would you like a break, is that it?'
'No, not at all.'
'Then, forget about it. Forget about her. If she can't be happy for you, she isn't much of a friend, is she?'
I can't answer him, I'm too upset to speak. Of course, he's right. I always thought she'd have my back, but she's only interested in herself. That much is obvious. Now she has Jared, I don't matter to her anymore.
But, as I'm thinking this, Joel surprises me.
'Why don't you invite Rose out with us on Saturday? Then, she can make up her own mind about me.'
'Really, but you just said—'
'She's your friend, Erica. And if she means that much to you, she'll prove it by taking the chance to get to know me.'
'Oh, but I can't this Saturday. I have a birthday party to attend. One of my work colleagues. You know how it is.'
'That's a shame, because I made plans for us. Can't you cancel? How well do you know this colleague?'
'Well, she's just joined the team.'
'You hardly know her.'
'Well,' it is true I’ve pretty much just met Chloe. It’s too soon to be going on nights out with her.
'That's settled, then. We're going out together. Me, you, Rose, and . . .'
'Jared.'
'Jared,' he repeats.
'Okay,' I say, before we say our goodbyes. I send Rose a text message, asking if her and Jared will come out with us both on Saturday.
She replies ten minutes later.
When and where? xxx
JOEL
As I leave the office on Friday, my phone buzzes from the pocket of my trousers. I lift the screen up to see who's calling, before forcing myself to answer it.
'I'm sorry to bother you.'
'Erica!'
'Are you busy?'
'I'm just leaving.'
'Something's happened.'
'What is it? You sound upset.'
'It's Rose. I'm sorry, but we won't be able to make it tomorrow.'
As always, Rose is taking Erica away from me with another drama.
'What is keeping you from me this time?'
'It's her brother, Patrick. He died this morning.’
I would say that I'm sorry to hear it, but I'm not. He was probably just as annoying to be around as Rose.
'Let me know when I can see you,' I say, hanging up the phone, before she has the chance to relay the awful situation to me in gruelling detail. I do not wish to hear anymore of Rose's miserable, mundane life.
***
Erica calls me later, asking if I'd like to come over to the flat and share a meal with her, Jared and Rose, seeing as we can't go out tomorrow night. I don't want to intrude on their sad little wake, but I want to see Erica, so I agree to meet them in a couple of hours.
When I arrive at the flat, Jared sits with his arm draped over Rose's shoulders, attempting to console her. I follow Erica into the kitchen, while she dabs at her eyes with a tissue.
'Why are you crying?'
'Patrick was a good person. He would never have got behind the wheel of a car after he'd been drinking. There's no way this was an accident.'
'He was irresponsible.'
'I know him. He wouldn't have done that.'
'Was there something between you two?' I catch on to the emotion in her words, as she mentions Patrick's name.
'No. Of course not. He was a very good friend to me.'
'I'm only asking. There's no need to bite my head off.'
The slip of my tongue has the unmistakable effect of causing Erica to fall into stunned silence. I leave the kitchen, as she turns her back to me. Patrick's head was forced through the car windscreen, as he hit the high-bricked wall, almost ripping his head from his neck.
I'm not sure she was telling me the truth when she said there was nothing between her and Patrick in the past, but I take her in my arms as soon as she enters the living room, feeling the need to console her.
The shock of Patrick's death seems to have taken Rose down a peg or two, because she sits in a crumpled heap, with her legs folded up to her chin on the tired-looking sofa.
I lead Erica back into the kitchen. As soon as the door is closed behind us, Erica cries silently into my chest. I can feel the heat of her body, as she collapses against me, her tears soaking through my clean shirt.
A while later Jared appears in the doorway, with his face drawn, and his eyes cast down to the floor.
'Is there anything I can do to help?'
Jared shrugs. The kitchen door opens a fraction wider, and Rose appears, red-faced, with dark hollow slits above smudged bags where her eyes used to be.
Jared leaves the kitchen with two cups of hot tea. Erica follows him out with a plate of biscuits.
'Do you want a drink?'
'Vodka, please. If there is any?' she says, offering me a half-hearted smile.
She gazes out of the window at the rain spotting the glass. I pour a large dose of the pungent liquid into a glass, and add to it a small amount of lemonade from the fridge, passing it to her waiting hand. I watch her gulp it back in seconds. She coughs and winces, but doesn't say anything, passing the glass back toward me.
'Can I have a top-up?' She licks her lips.
The movement of her tongue is hypnotic, reminding me of the woman I watched on the video last night, as she wrapped her mouth around the end of the man's dick, sucking on it until he spurted his hot sticky cum down her throat.
Whore.
I take my eyes from Rose, when Erica appears in the kitchen doorway.
'You shouldn't let her drink,' she says.
I shrug and shake my head, imitating helplessness. It seems to work, because she waltzes over to Rose, taking the glass from her hand, and placing it down onto the counter top.
'That's no good for you.'
Erica doesn't say what we're both thinking—that alcohol was the cause of Patrick's death. Rose falls apart again at Erica's words, and I watch Erica wrap her arms around Rose's waist, escorting her out of the kitchen.
I suddenly feel my legs grow heavy, and a sickness begins to erupt in the pit of my stomach. My fists voluntarily bunch up into clenched balls at my sides. I force myself to remain calm entering the living room where Jared sits, pretending to watch the beginning of a football match on the television, while Erica sits stroking Rose's head like an injured animal.
Pippa appears from the bedroom, wags her tail, and bounds up to me, as I edge closer to the sofa. It takes everything within my power not to give in to the urge to kick it. I’m glad it’s staying with Rose for another week. I perch on the edge of the three-seater sofa, watching Erica fold a blanket over Rose.
'Has anybody eaten?'
Nobody replies.
'Rose needs to keep her strength up.' My stomach grumbles from near-starvation.
'I'll come with you to the shop.' Jared jumps at the chance to leave the sad atmosphere of the flat for half an hour.
'Sure,' I say, trying not to let the distaste I feel toward him from appearing too obvious.
I head to the door, with Jared at my heel, like an annoying child.
'Nice car,' he says, as he jumps inside, stroking the leather seat with the back of his hand.
When we reach Waitrose, I head straight for the fresh food aisle. Once we're back inside the car, with several varieties of cheese, two loaves of bread, some coleslaw, and the raw ingredients to make a fruit salad, ready to head back to Erica's depressing flat, Jared does something which turns my blood cold.
'Do you mind if I light up?' He pulls out a packet of cigarettes from his pocket.
'Yes. I do mind.'
It isn't until we reach the small parking space in front of the flat I realise my knuckles have turned white from gripping the steering wheel too tightly.
ERICA
Joel and Jared return from the shops almost an hour after they've left. In the time since they've been gone, Rose has disappeared into the kitchen to drink another glass of vodka. She is slumped on the sofa, snoring away, with the blanket draped across her legs. It's Pippa's, but I wouldn't dare mention that to Joel. I get the impression he's not a dog lover.
Despite his obvious lack of empathy toward pets, Joel has been my rock today. I smile to myself, thinking what an odd little family of friends we all are—because that's how I see us now.
Joel and Jared arrive through the front door, darting past the open living room door, and straight into the kitchen. They waste no time in preparing a large plate of sandwiches, which fill three plates. Joel dumps them down onto the coffee table, just as Jared leaves through the back door for a cigarette.
I haven't told Joel how sick of vegetables I've become since dating him. I don't want to hurt his feelings, but I'm fantasising about chomping through a fat, greasy burger when he shoves a cheese salad sandwich in front of me.
'Thank you.'
'My pleasure.' His smile drops when he notices that Rose has fallen asleep on the sofa.
'She has to eat.' He moves toward her.
'Don't wake her. She needs to rest.'
Joel disappears into the kitchen, returning minutes later, swinging the almost empty bottle of vodka like a pendulum in front of my face.
'It must run in the family,' he says, his words sounding clipped.
'What?' I whisper harshly, hoping not to wake Rose.
'The drinking. Isn't that what killed her brother?'
I can't think of anything to say to him. How dare he speak aloud such vicious words against Patrick? He didn't know him. Come to think of it, he knows nothing about Rose, either.
'What are you trying to say?'
He gives me a scornful look.
'I'm not the enemy here, Erica. I care for you. Rose is becoming a mess rather quickly, wouldn't you agree?'
'No, I wouldn't.'
'How much does she usually drink?'
'That's a ridiculous question. She's just lost her brother.'
'Would you say it's reasonable to care about the welfare of your friend?'
I detect a bitter edge to his words, but dismiss it as anxiety. Surely he's as affected by this situation as I am. He cares for me, and he wants to do what's right for Rose. Or am I making excuses for him?
I glance down to where Rose is lying, oblivious to the heated discussion continuing above her.
A few minutes of silence pass between us, as I wonder how in hell we have managed to become so bitter in the three short weeks we've known each other.
I catch Joel off-guard, as he takes another triangular-shaped sandwich from one of the piled up plates on the table, and carries it into the kitchen.
'How was work?'
'Fine.'
I'm hoping to bide my time before diverting the conversation back to the cause of our argument, but instantly regret it the moment I open my mouth.
'I know you mean well by Rose, but she didn't ask for this to happen. She's scared. Patrick and I are all she has.'
'What happened to her parents?'
'She grew up in care. When things are tough, she tries to bury them, but she's not an alcoholic. She only drinks when we go out.' Why do I feel the need to explain this to him? 'You allowed her to drink.'
He pauses for a few seconds, contemplating his next words. When they come, it jars me, sounding spiteful and pre-meditated.
'If she can't keep her hands off a bottle
, that's not my fault. In fact, all of this is Patrick's own doing.'
'I can't believe you can think such a thing,' I say, my voice sharp.
The anger builds up inside me, threatening to explode at any moment. When he shrugs, I can no longer keep the lid on it.
'You are an insensitive prick. Do you know that?'
'Watch your words, young lady. I'm only speaking the truth. It's what we're all thinking.'
'That's not what I'm thinking.'
I storm out of the living room, and into the bedroom, standing with my back to the door. I hear the door close, and the lock click into place. Joel has followed me inside. I can only hope, despite the small flat, Jared hasn't heard us arguing from his seat on the stone wall to the left of the back garden, smoking his cigarette down to the butt.
Joel grabs my hand, as I'm reaching for the door handle to let myself out of the bedroom. 'I don't want to fight.'
'Then, don't.'
'Come here.'
I turn toward him, waiting for an explanation for his recent outburst, but he presses his lips against mine, stopping any words from escaping my mouth.
Before I know what is happening, he's pulled me down onto the bed and is unzipping my jeans.
'Wait,' I say. But, he doesn't listen.
Instead, he tugs the jeans down my legs, so they hang limply around my ankles. Unbuckling his belt, he spreads my legs with his knee, pinning me down with his chest, placing his hand over my mouth.
I shake his hand away, as he crushes his crotch against mine. 'They'll hear us.'
'No, they won't,' he says. 'I want to fuck you.'
I've never heard him swear before, and the sound of him phrasing such a filthy word sends a rush of pleasure down my thighs. I nod my head, and he places his hand back over my mouth, silencing my moans of pleasure, as he plunges himself deep inside me. His thrusts are hard and much less controlled than the first time we made love on this bed.
With his hand pressed down hard against my lips, my teeth graze them, and I can taste blood. The lack of oxygen, as I'm forced to breathe through my nose with each gasp of pleasure, sends spasmodic waves through me. I lose myself in the moment, not realising until it is too late we haven't used a condom.
Beautiful Liar: a gripping suspense thriller Page 10