Remember Me: The gripping psychological thriller with a jaw-dropping twist.

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Remember Me: The gripping psychological thriller with a jaw-dropping twist. Page 6

by Lynda Renham


  I throw some Christmas cards into the trolley.

  ‘Why don’t you come over on Saturday?’ I say. ‘We’re reciprocating Sharni and Tom. It’d be lovely if you could. Just a little drinks party.’

  She pulls a black diary from her handbag.

  ‘Let’s see if I can squeeze you in,’ she laughs.

  We make our way through the fragrant smelling candle department and my eyes land on a vase. Helen follows my gaze and pulls a face.

  ‘Didn’t you get yours back then?’

  ‘No, not yet, anyway, but I’m sure we will.’

  Helen tuts.

  ‘I reckon she’s lost it. Ooh, I must get some Christmas candles.’

  Surely if Sharni had lost the vase she’d own up. She’d know I’d ask for it eventually. I feel a pang of uncertainty about asking her now. I don’t want to rock the boat, especially now she has agreed to have Ben for nothing. Chris and I could barely believe our luck. We’d both figured she’d ask for something.

  ‘She’s going to have Ben for me on my teaching days,’ I say, looking at the candles. ‘I asked her this morning.’

  ‘What? About the nursery?’

  ‘This is Ben’s last week at the nursery. Sharni will do it for nothing, so I’ll be saving money too.’

  Helen scoffs.

  ‘What about her job?’

  I shrug.

  ‘She said it wouldn’t be a problem.’

  ‘Huh, I think I’d be suspicious of a woman who offers to have my kid for nothing. It’s bloody hard work isn’t it? That’s why nurseries charge so much.’

  I take a deep breath.

  ‘She’s had him before,’ I say but as usual I sound feeble.

  The strong fragrance from the candles is making my head ache.

  ‘I’m sorry Clare. Don’t listen to me. I’ve never had bloody kids and never will. Ben’s cute and all that but I just can’t understand anyone volunteering to look after one. Anyway, Saturday’s fine. I’ve got this new fella. If I’m still with him can I bring him along?’

  ‘Yes, of course. That would be great. I’m going to make Melba toast.’

  ‘Fucking hell. It’s worth coming for that.’

  We laugh and I follow her to the cafeteria. I’ll pop into Sharni on the way home and ask for the vase. I’m sure she won’t mind.

  *

  ‘Oh hi again,’ Sharni says.

  She’s surprised to see me. Her hair has been cut. Her long brown hair is in a bob, similar to mine.

  ‘Your hair looks different,’ I say.

  ‘Do you like it? I thought your style was so tidy. Mine was such a wreck.’

  She leans down to Ben.

  ‘Hello, Sweet Pea.’

  Ben smiles and reaches up to her.

  ‘I liked your hair,’ I say.

  ‘Ditto,’ she laughs. ‘Do you want to come in for a coffee?’

  I point to my Ikea bags.

  ‘Helen and I went to Ikea. Both Ben and I are knackered.’

  ‘God, you’re brave. I never go to Ikea.’

  I can smell paint and sneak a look behind her.

  ‘I’ve been painting the kitchen. I know we looked at that great wallpaper but … Anyway come and have a quick look. Tell me what you think.’

  ‘Okay,’ I say, scooping Ben out of the stroller.

  When she said ‘I’ve been painting,’ I, of course, thought that was what she meant. I stop in surprise at the sight of a hunky blond Adonis wielding a paintbrush.

  ‘Oh,’ I say.

  ‘Hello,’ he smiles.

  The wall is the same colour as ours. In fact if it weren’t for the Aga and new kitchen table, it could easily have been our kitchen.

  ‘Sorry, did you think I was doing it? I’m giving out the orders. This is Jack. If you ever need a painter I can recommend him, he’s the best. Are you sure you don’t want a coffee? I’m just about to make one.’

  ‘I’m fine, really. You’ve gone for the same colour as …’

  ‘Yes, I couldn’t think of a better one,’ she says casually.

  Ben reaches his arms out to her and she looks at me.

  ‘Is it okay?’

  Before I can reply she has picked him up.

  ‘Hello darling,’ she croons.

  I fumble in my handbag for my keys, breaking a nail in the process.

  ‘Damn.’

  ‘Everything okay?’ asks Sharni.

  ‘This damn handbag, I can never find anything in it. I can’t find my keys now.’

  ‘I’m sure they’re there. But you know if you ever do get shut out you can always come in here. There’s a spare key under an old paint tin in the garden. That’s how Jack gets in if I’m not around.’

  I pull out my keys and sigh with relief.

  ‘Actually I’ll use your loo if that’s okay. I’ve been holding it forever.’

  ‘Yeah, of course, you know where it is.’

  I can’t believe I haven’t asked for the vase. The idea of knocking had been to ask Sharni for that. But the whole thing seems so petty somehow. Maybe Chris can ask Tom. Then again I don’t really want Chris to know that we still haven’t had it back. He’s no doubt forgotten about it too. I pass the master bedroom and my eye catches something familiar. It’s the bedside lamp, there’s something about it. I tap the door gently and it swings open. I clap my hand over my mouth and stifle a gasp. I feel my legs go weak at the knees and I have to hold on to the door handle to support myself. The bedroom is identical to ours.

  *

  ‘Slow down, you’re talking too fast,’ says Chris with a sigh.

  ‘It was our bedroom in their house!’

  ‘What do you mean our bedroom?’ he laughs.

  ‘Everything, everything was the same. They had the same bed as ours. The bed covering was the same. That cream set I bought in Ikea but Sharni said she never goes to Ikea. The bedside cabinets were identical and even the lamps. Oh, and she’s reading the same book as me, The Lovely Bones.’

  ‘Christ, is that a book title?’

  ‘Chris,’ I shout and then lower my voice when I realise Sharni and Tom might hear us through the wall.

  ‘It’s not a crime, Clare. She thinks you’ve got great taste.’

  I clench my hands.

  ‘We’ve never discussed books.’

  He rubs his chin.

  ‘You may have done. Perhaps you’ve forgotten.’

  I feel sure Sharni and I have never talked about books.

  ‘Isn’t it a bit odd though? She’s even having the kitchen painted the same colour.’

  ‘She’s never even seen our bedroom has she? So, it’s obviously her just following your advice. You seem to have a lot in common with her.’

  I struggle to remember when Sharni had been upstairs.

  ‘She had our key that day,’ I say shakily. ‘That day of the flood at the nursery, I gave her my key.’

  Oh God, I’m sounding paranoid again. I go into the kitchen as calmly as I can and open my little notebook. I check my diazepam intake and sigh with relief. I can take another one.

  ‘You’re not going to take more of those are you?’ says Chris from behind me. ‘It’s not a big deal Clare.’

  ‘She must have gone into our bedroom the day I gave her the key,’ I say feeling a chill run down my spine.

  ‘Oh come on Clare. Are you saying she’s recreated our bedroom in that short time? They’ve only been here just over two weeks.’

  ‘Well … I …’ I say flustered.

  ‘Are you sure it was exactly the same?’

  ‘The bed linen and …’

  ‘It’s from Ikea, thousands of people go to Ikea, Clare and …’

  ‘But she said she didn’t go to Ikea,’ I argue.

  ‘For Christ’s sake, there are loads of cream duvet covers. It’s not that odd and I’m sure the bed is not identical either.’

  ‘Not identical,’ I say, beginning to feel stupid.

  Now I think back there were some things t
hat were slightly different. Maybe the cream duvet cover wasn’t exactly the same.

  ‘Get some perspective Clare. You should be flattered,’ he says tiredly. ‘One minute you’ve got no self-esteem and the next minute you’ve got someone looking up to you in this way and you’re still anxious. Perhaps she lacks confidence in house decorating.’

  I open my mouth to argue but feel somehow deflated. I try to remember if I’d said I was reading The Lovely Bones. I decide not to tell him about Sharni’s haircut as I know he wouldn’t understand.

  ‘I was going to ask about the vase,’ I say and wait for his reaction.

  ‘What vase?’

  ‘The one we lent her.’

  He looks surprised.

  ‘I thought she’d given that back.’

  I shake my head.

  ‘We’ll ask her on Saturday about the vase and their bedroom if you like. What were you doing in their bedroom anyway?’

  ‘I just happened to see,’ I say blushing.

  He pulls me into his arms and I sniff his jumper. The warm smell of Aqua De Parma washes over me.

  ‘Everything is going really well Clare. You need to calm down. You have a new friend. Extra hours at work and we’re going to save some money. We’ve got a bit more of a social life and Ben is thriving. We’re going to have a brilliant Christmas. We’ve got your school party. Most importantly you’re getting off the diazepam and sleeping pills.’

  I snuggle into the warmth of him.

  ‘Sharni invited us for Christmas,’ I mumble into his jumper.

  ‘Yes, Tom mentioned it. I’d rather have Christmas Day just the three of us, wouldn’t you?’

  I nod happily.

  ‘Let’s see how we feel. We could always pop in for a drink Christmas evening.’

  I look up at him.

  ‘You think it is okay for Sharni to still have Ben.’

  He laughs.

  ‘Clare, come on. Decorating a bedroom like ours doesn’t make her a child molester does it?’

  I shrug.

  ‘We’ll ask her on Saturday. I’m sure she didn’t do it to upset you.’

  ‘Okay,’ I agree.

  ‘We’ll also ask what she’s done with that bloody vase.’

  Sometimes she wondered if her mind had played tricks. It would be easier to believe that. At least she could move on if she did. There would be some kind of closure.

  ‘You’re right,’ she could agree. ‘I imagined it. Most likely the shock caused it.’

  And some days she did wonder. Had she imagined it? Could she have been hallucinating? Was everyone right and she wrong?

  But, no … she knew. They could try as hard as they liked to make her think otherwise. She had been there and she knew.

  ‘Of course you know dear,’ said her mother. ‘They should believe you. He should believe you too.’

  Tears sprang to her eyes. Christ, would this ever stop? She thought. Is this bloody therapy helping at all?

  ‘I didn’t imagine it.’

  Leah didn’t reply.

  ‘You don’t believe me either.’

  ‘Do you feel guilty about what happened?’

  She laughed.

  ‘What do you think? Of course I do. The guilt is killing me.’

  But I didn’t make it up.

  ‘But supposing someone else did the bad thing? Wouldn’t that make you less guilty?’

  ‘I’m guilty. I don’t deny that. I should have left before it got dark.’

  ‘Shall we talk about that? Why you didn’t leave?’

  ‘It won’t change anything,’ she said flatly.

  She knew she couldn’t go back and fix things. But she could go forward and just possibly put things right.

  ‘It’s important for you to accept what happened? The truth of what happened.’

  How dare she tell her what was the truth, she thought angrily? She was the only one who knew what the truth was.

  ‘You need to reclaim your life.’

  She stared at the tissue box. It occurred to her for the first time that it might be easier to give in. To give up the fight and do as they say.

  ‘I miss him,’ she said simply.

  ‘Of course,’ Leah said sympathetically.

  She looked at the clock on the wall. Ten more minutes and she could leave. She’d have stayed the full hour.

  Chapter Twelve

  Sharni waves at me from her place on the floor. She’d talked me into a Pilates class. I’m not sure it’s my thing but Sharni assures me it’s the best way to get my core muscles in shape.

  ‘It’s brilliant for toning up any flabbiness.’

  My feelings must have shown because she’d quickly added, ‘I’m not insinuating you’re flabby or anything.’

  But I’d become acutely aware of my pear-shaped body. Chris had always said I was cuddly but I don’t think that is very complimentary. I wave back to Sharni and try not to look at her perfectly toned body. I wish I could stop comparing myself to her. It’s not like she’s glamorous or anything, especially with her dark-rimmed glasses, but she does have an air about her that I don’t have. I look down at my chubby thighs in the black leotard and sigh. It’s freezing in the Methodist church hall too. I can’t think what Sharni likes about it. I yearn for the peacefulness and warmth of my little living room.

  Cheryl, the teacher, barks orders to us, saying we should ‘focus on our breathing’ and ‘pull our muscles in’. I’m dying for a pee and the cold hall isn’t helping.

  ‘Focus on the breath,’ she orders.

  Sharni smiles from across the room. There’s something odd in the way she smiles at me but I can’t put my finger on what it is. She turns away and laughs at something the woman next to her is saying and then I realise. When she laughs with other people the smile reaches her eyes, but when she smiles with me it’s as though her eyes are dead. I shake my head in irritation. What a stupid thought.

  ‘Keep those knees straight, Clare,’ orders Cheryl.

  I strain to see the side room where the crèche is being held. I’m sure I would have heard Ben if he was unhappy. There is a pause in the session and Sharni tells me that she will check on him. I nod. I would check on him myself but Cheryl is pulling at my leg.

  ‘Breathe slowly Clare, I’ve noticed you have a tendency to shallow breathe,’ says Cheryl. I feel the stares of the other women and become more self-conscious about my pear-shaped body. Why do they all have to have perfect flat stomachs and slim thighs?

  *

  I look at my reflection in the mirror. My blonde streaked hair is messy from the exercise. I drag a brush through it and dab some blusher on to my cheeks. I pull my jumper over my tummy and sigh. I need to lose some weight. I must start cooking some proper meals. It’s just so difficult with Ben and work. When I’m not teaching I’m preparing lesson plans. There never seems to be enough hours in the day. There’s going to be even less time when I start the new hours.

  ‘Shall we get a coffee in Costa?’ Sharni asks with a smile.

  I realise I am right about her smile. It really doesn’t meet her eyes at least not when she smiles at me. I pull my hair back and secure it in a band.

  ‘Don’t you have work to do?’ I ask.

  ‘I’ve got a meeting in town at two, so I’ve got plenty of time,’ she says, taking the stroller from me.

  I think of the lesson planning that awaits me.

  ‘Just a quick one,’ I say.

  Costa is quiet and we find a table easily. I decide to let Sharni get the drinks this time. At least I can keep a close eye on Ben.

  ‘Do you want a cake or anything?’ she asks.

  Before I can answer she says,

  ‘I’ll get a chocolate brownie, they’re lush in here,’ and she hurries to the counter. My thighs hurt from the stretching and I groan as I lift Ben out of the stroller. Sharni returns with the coffee and brownies.

  ‘I should try and lose some weight,’ I say, tying Ben’s bib and handing him his beaker.

/>   ‘Really?’ she asks. ‘Did Chris say something?’

  ‘Chris?’

  ‘It’s just he mentioned that you might like Pilates.’

  ‘He did?’ I say surprised.

  ‘Not to me,’ she laughs.

  I study her eyes. There’s no sparkle there. Maybe there wasn’t a sparkle when she laughed with the other woman. I could have imagined it.

  ‘Tom mentioned that I go to Pilates and Chris said you might like it because you wanted to tone up,’ she says, peeling a banana for Ben.

  ‘Oh,’ I say.

  It’s not like Chris to say something like that. I have mentioned wanting to lose a bit of weight and needing to tone up but he’d always said I looked fine as I was.

  ‘It’s not good to carry too much extra weight,’ says Sharni, taking a bite from her chocolate brownie. ‘Chris is very fit isn’t he?’

  I stare at her.

  ‘Fit as in healthy fit,’ she smiles.

  I nod.

  ‘He likes to exercise,’ I say.

  ‘Yeah, so does Tom. Well, I do too. It’s not good to let yourself go.’

  I look down at the brownie. Is she trying to say that’s what I’ve done? Is that what Chris has said?

  ‘It’s difficult to find time for exercise with Ben,’ I say and hate that I sound so feeble.

  ‘I’ll always have him if you want to go for a run.’

  I really can’t imagine me pounding the streets of London with my flabby bits flopping all over the place. I push the brownie to one side.

  ‘You’re coming to Pilates, that’s a start,’ she says before I can reply.

  ‘I ought to get back,’ I say, standing up. ‘I’ve got tons of lesson plans to do.’

  She checks the time on her phone.

  ‘Yes, I should get going too. I need to shower before my meeting.’

  She kisses Ben on the cheek and hugs him tightly.

  ‘Ooh, what to get you for Christmas.’

  ‘You don’t have to get him anything.’

  ‘You can’t come round Christmas Day and we not have presents for Ben.’

  Shit. I thought Chris was going to have a word with Tom about Christmas Day.

  ‘The thing is …’ I begin.

  ‘I’d better fly,’ she says.

  She wraps a scarf around her neck and looks up and again I get that feeling that I have met her before.

 

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