by West, Sam
“Sweetie, I’m not going to read your diary.”
“Promise?”
“I promise. Can I see your computer, please?”
She reached for the laptop – pink, of course – that was perched on the edge of the bed. Sure enough, when she opened up the lid she couldn’t get a connection. She moved the cursor around, trying different things when the screen suddenly blinked out. Sighing heavily, she saw the damn thing wasn’t plugged in.
She plugged it in at the wall but the screen remained black.
Amber’s frown deepened. That’s strange. Instinctively, she got to her feet and strode over to the light-switch. She flicked it and nothing happened. The same with the bedside-lamp.
A power-cut. Just wonderful. Her first thought was of the all meat and fish in their sizable, free-standing freezer. Well, hopefully it’ll come back on soon. The food should last a fair few hours before it defrosts.
“We have a power-cut,” she announced. “I have to go back outside now and tell Daddy. You’ve got your battery night-light, haven’t you? And your old Disney Princess torch?”
Amber crouched down and peered under the bed. I really need to hoover under there. She spotted the torch amidst the forgotten toys, and pulled it out along with a stray sock.
Now where the hell did I put the torch and candles, she wondered as she got to her feet. She was pretty sure that the candles were in a drawer in the kitchen. God only knew where the torch was.
“Don’t worry, it won’t get dark for a few hours yet and you have your torch, but the power will probably come back on again in a minute, anyway.”
She walked over to the door.
“Mummy?” Jessie said softly.
“Yes, sweetie?”
“Be careful.”
It struck her as a strange thing to say and when she smiled at her daughter, it felt forced and unnatural.
“Always, sweetie. It’s only a power-cut, there’s nothing to worry about.”
Something bad is going to happen.
There it was again, that pre-menstrual angst. She hovered in the doorway and watched Jessie walk over to the window. Her bedroom was next-door to theirs, and had sea-views. Jessie pressed her face to the glass, peering downwards.
“Daddy’s being weird.”
Instantly, Amber was on edge without knowing why. She went over and joined her daughter at the window, gently placing her hands on her shoulders.
“That’s a funny thing to say, why do you think he’s being weird?”
“Because Daddy is always so gentle. I’ve been looking out the window sometimes, and Daddy is being funny. He’s laughing too much and speaking really loudly and he won’t stand still.”
Only when she properly looked, did she see what Jessie meant. She was right, even from this distance it was clear to see that Alfie was far more animated than usual. He was usually the epitome of laid-back cool, he didn’t go in for expansive hand gestures and very rarely raised his voice. Even when they argued, he generally kept his cool which – she remembered with some shame – usually had the effect of further inflaming her temper. Right now he was holding court, waving his arms around and hopping from foot to foot. The window was ajar and she strained her ears, trying to catch what he was saying. The wind in the trees and the cawing of seagulls drowned out individual words, but the occasional raucous laugh drifted her way on the light breeze.
The more she looked, the more uneasy she felt. On the face of it, the scene was entirely innocuous – just five friends drinking around a barbecue – but she had never seen Alfie act so loud.
He’s just blowing off some steam, he works so hard…
She told herself that, but she didn’t quite believe it.
Her gaze strayed to Jeff and Colin. They too, were acting out of character. Especially Colin. Of the three of them, Jeff was the one most likely to act the boisterous fool, but Colin was pretty straight-laced. He most definitely wasn’t the type to carry on as he was. He was currently thrusting his hips as if he were acting out some crap, deeply unfunny joke. The boys appeared to think it was hilarious, especially when Alfie joined in with the hip-thrusting.
Sara and Marjorie certainly didn’t seem to find it funny. They looked distinctly uneasy and were as rigid as statues as the men calmed down for a second to dish up fishcakes and burgers onto their plates.
“Mummy, what’s wrong with Daddy and Jeff and Colin?”
The sound of Jessie’s sweet voice made her flinch as she had been so engrossed in the scene unfolding at the bottom of her garden.
“Nothing sweetie, they’ve probably been hitting the beer a little too hard.”
It struck Amber that Jessie very rarely called them ‘Mummy’ and ‘Daddy’ anymore, deeming it ‘babyish’. Only when she was upset about something did she revert to such language.
“Oh. I knew you were all drunk.”
Amber barely heard her, her gaze was helplessly drawn back to her husband and friends. She watched Marjorie and Sara hurry back over to the table on the patio that extended out from the double kitchen-doors.
“Everything’s fine, sweetheart. I have to go downstairs now and tell Daddy that there’s been a power-cut.”
She stepped away from the window, feeling distinctly off-kilter, like she had just stepped off a fairground ride. Her head swam but she plastered on a smile for her daughter.
Out in the expansive, dark-wood hallway, her smile dropped like lead. Quickly, she made her way back down the stairs. Once in the downstairs hallway she picked up the receiver of the landline on the sideboard.
It was dead.
Of course it’s dead, there’s a power-cut, remember?
She strode back through the kitchen and out onto the patio, wincing as she passed the large, free-standing freezer.
Squinting in the bright light, she remembered her sunglasses and put them on. Marjorie and Sara were sitting eating at the driftwood table. Marjorie was daintily eating her fishcakes with a knife and fork and a generous side-helping of salad like she was at restaurant and Sara was eating with her fingers, inelegantly wolfing down a burger in a bun.
That about sums them up, she thought with a ghost of a smile.
“Hey girls, is everything alright?”
Even as she asked it her gaze was drawn to the men at the end of the garden. She could hear them laughing and shouting and carrying on from here.
“Apart from our fellas acting like they’re on a stag-night or something,” Sara said. “I don’t know what’s got into them.”
“Beer,” Marjorie said.
All three of them laughed, but it sounded hollow and insincere to Amber’s ears. She grabbed an empty plate and made her way over to the three men. As she approached, she could make out fragments of what they were saying amidst the raucous laughter.
“The tits on it and tightest pussy ever...” came her husband’s voice.
Her toes curled in disgust. In all their eleven years of marriage she had never once heard him speak like such a sexist, sleazy pig. They stopped talking as she neared, and she was painfully conscious of three sets of eyes on her. They were smiling, but their expressions were far from friendly.
Oh my God, are they actually leering at me?
No, she had to be mistaken, they weren’t like that. Feeling dream-like and strange, she plastered a smile on her face.
“You look like you’re having a good time.”
“Always, baby,” her husband said, staring openly at her breasts.
She resisted the urge to fold her arms over her chest. He knew she was conscious of her breasts, that she thought they were too large for her slim frame, and there he was, openly leering at her and objectifying her in front of their friends.
What the hell is he playing at?
A vision of slapping him round the face flared in her mind.
“Honey, can I have a word? In private?”
She felt Jeff and Colin’s eyes on her as she walked over to the opposite corner of the garden, but
she refused to look at them. Alfie followed.
“We have a power-cut,” she said when she had reached the hedgerow.
“Have you been down the basement to check the trip-switches in the fuse-box?”
“No, I haven’t, and you know why.”
Amber was scared of the dark. Even at the grand old age of thirty-eight, her childhood phobia had stayed with her. She was fine with a moonlit night, or a shadowy bedroom; she was fine as long as she could see something. It was total blackness that terrified her, and due to the lack of windows in the basement, it was pitch black down there even in the middle of the day.
I can’t believe he even asked if I’d been down there.
“You took me to one side to tell me there’s a power-cut? Why couldn’t you say that in front of Jeff and Colin?”
She glared up at him with her hands on her hips.
He looks different, she thought with a shiver. It wasn’t anything tangible, nothing she could put her finger on, but the expression in his eyes was just different, somehow.
He looks cold and hard.
“I took you to one side to ask you what the hell is going on. Whose tits and pussy were you talking about just now? I’ve never heard you talk like that before.”
“Like what?”
“Like a disgusting fucking pig, is what.”
As a general rule, Amber tried not to swear. She saved it for the few times she really wanted to drive her point home.
“I think you need to lighten up. We’re supposed to be having a good time, remember?”
For a moment, Amber simply didn’t know how to reply.
“What the fuck has gotten into you?” she hissed.
He raised his hands in the air. “Whoa, baby, why the drama? I was just having a laugh with the lads. I was telling a joke.”
She looked at him sceptically. “A joke? What joke?”
He looked at her and smirked, but it was far removed from friendly. That urge to slap him was back again.
“The one about the naked woman opening the door to the blind man. Except, you know he’s not blind, he’s selling blinds.”
She didn’t believe him for a second. “Don’t think we’re done here. Now would you please go and quickly check the fuse-box?”
Alfie looked her up and down, making her skin inexplicably crawl. “Sure, baby, I’ll do it right away.”
She turned her back to him and strode back over to Colin and Jeff at the barbecue. She found she was trembling and close to tears.
Damn him, the lying fucking bastard.
She felt herself tearing up as she held out her plate for the fishcakes and burgers, and she fought to get herself under control. Colin appeared not to notice – he was too busy leering at her chest while he dished up the food, further darkening her mood. She couldn’t get away from them quick enough.
“I can’t get reception,” Sara said as soon as she joined the girls again at the table.
Marjorie too was pressing buttons on her phone. “Me neither.”
“That’s strange,” Amber said, hovering over Sara. “It must be something to do with the power-cut.”
“A power-cut? You never said.”
“Didn’t I? Sorry, I must have been distracted when I came downstairs. Alfie’s gone down to the basement to check the fuse-box.”
“But that shouldn’t affect mobile-phone reception,” Marjorie piped up.
“Yeah,” Amber said. Her phone was somewhere in the house – she really should go and find it. “Can you get radio on your phones? There’s probably something about the power-cut on the local radio station.”
“Good idea,” Sara said, pressing more buttons.
“I’m just popping back inside to take Jessie something to eat and find my phone. I’ll be right back.”
Hastily, she piled salad and a burger with all the trimmings onto the plate and retreated inside the kitchen, stopping at the fridge to pick up a can of coke.
“Honey?” she called out once she was in the hallway. “Where are you?”
“In my room,” came her distant reply.
Just as Amber headed for the stairs, Alfie’s voice from behind her almost made her jump out of her skin.
“There’s nothing wrong with the fuse-box, I’m guessing everyone is affected.”
“Christ, Alfie, you scared me half to death,” she said, spinning round indignantly.
He stood there leaning casually against the hallway wall, a torch swinging from his fingers. He was smiling at her, but it was far from friendly or loving and in that moment he reminded her of a wolf about to devour his prey.
He came right up to her and curled his hand round her waist. She flinched in his grip, sickened by his touch and automatically took a step backwards to evade the contact. He didn’t seem to take the hint, for he matched her step backwards and his hand snaked upwards, giving her tit a hard squeeze.
She swatted his hand away with hell in her eyes.
Even after twelve years of marriage, they were still very physical together and she loved it when he came in for a cuddle and a kiss.
But not now. Now she just wanted to slap him. She had never dreamed of the day when his touch would repulse her.
She wanted to scream at him to get the fuck out of her face, but instead she just glared icily at him. Something deep inside, some long-buried, primal instinct warned her not to confront him.
“I have to take Jessie up her dinner,” she said, turning her back to him.
She climbed the stairs, balancing the plate in one hand. She was painfully aware of her husband standing at the foot of the staircase, watching her ascent. She could feel his eyes boring into her back.
Or my arse, more like.
He laughed, and it was a low, throaty chuckle that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.
“Nice arse.”
His words had a paralysing effect, and for a second her legs just wouldn’t work. Thankfully, the sensation quickly passed and she hurried up the stairs away from his prying eyes.
Something’s wrong. Something’s really badly wrong…
This time when she thought it, she didn’t try to deny it. Something was wrong.
Something’s wrong with Alfie. And with Jeff and Colin too.
She let out a shaky sigh of relief and slumped against the wall when she heard his footsteps retreating.
Amber was scared, and she didn’t mind admitting it.
What the hell is going on?
That bad feeling didn’t leave her for a second as she entered her daughter’s room.
CHAPTER THREE
Outside in the garden, Sara frowned in puzzlement at her phone.
No radio reception. That’s really bloody weird.
She glanced across the table at the Stuck-Up-One. She too was fiddling with her phone and didn’t look up to meet her gaze.
Why is she so cold with me?
If Sara was honest with herself, Marjorie’s cool attitude towards her was hurtful.
Amber was warm and kind and she loved her like a sister, but Marjorie was resolutely cold.
I expect she’s jealous of me.
You are you trying to kid? It’s the other way round.
Marjorie was so thin and beautiful, so successful in her teaching career.
But she has no kids.
She thought of the life growing inside of her and her heart melted. Unconsciously, she hugged her plump stomach.
Am I showing yet, or am I just fat?
Fleeting thoughts of the future she was going to share with her child popped into her mind; her baby’s first steps, his or hers first day at school, the long, lazy summer holidays they were going to spend together down the beach…
“Is something funny?”
Sara suddenly realised she was probably smiling softy to herself in the most beatific, smug kind of way.
Why is she such a cow?
“Not funny, Marjorie, I’m just sitting here thinking about my unborn child and the wonderfu
l life we’re going to have together. I guess I’m just happy.”
Marjorie’s expression was unreadable behind her glasses and if her words had hurt her, it didn’t show.
I can’t get radio,” Marjorie said coolly. “Can you?”
Why do we rub each other up the wrong way?
Fleetingly, she wondered if it was her fault, and not Marjorie’s. Was it because she had to ‘share’ Amber with someone else, or was it because she secretly quite liked Marjorie and was hurt that she was so cold towards her? That Marjorie blatantly preferred Amber’s company to hers?
It can’t be that. What have I ever done to her, anyway?
“No. No radio reception.”
The sound of their husbands approaching saved Marjorie from having to answer, and they both looked up. Alfie appeared at the French-doors at the same time.
“I got you your food, mate,” Colin said to Alfie, balancing a plate in each hand.
Sara stared at her husband, a frown creasing her forehead.
What is up with him tonight?
Of the three guys, her husband Jeff was naturally the joker, but he was really pushing it tonight, even by his standards. He was laughing so hard as they walked to the table that he was in danger of dropping his plate which was piled high with meat.
She frowned. That’s a lot of meat.
As the three men sat down, she noticed that each of them had foregone the fishcakes in favour of a lump of steak and burgers. Of the three women, Sara was the only one that had opted for meat and that had been a good old-fashioned, burger in a bun. She and Jeff weren’t really big meat-eaters, and Jeff always went for fish over meat if he had a choice.
Not only that, but each one of their plates positively dripped with blood. It really wasn’t like him at all.
“Rare steak, Jeff?” she asked, keeping her tone light.
He sat down next to her, perching his sunglasses on top of his blonde head and smiled. The sight of it made her heart stop beating for a second before resuming at twice normal speed. His green eyes glittered, but not with his usual, easy-going mirth.