Be Careful What You Hear

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Be Careful What You Hear Page 7

by Paul Pilkington


  ‘What would you like to do?’ James asked, as we tucked into a bowl of granola each.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Do you want to pack up and leave this morning? Go home?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ I honestly hadn’t thought about it, even though now the question had been asked it seemed a perfectly reasonable thing to have considered.

  James seemed surprised by my lack of conviction. ‘I thought you might want to get home as soon as possible, and send me packing.’ He seemed deadly serious.

  ‘I won’t be doing that,’ I replied, without really thinking. Whether it was my heart talking or not, I don’t know. But I knew as soon as the words left my lips that it was what I wanted. ‘That doesn’t mean there aren’t going to be hard times,’ I added. ‘It will take time.’

  ‘Thank you,’ James smiled, reaching out to take my hand. I pulled it away before it met mine. He nodded his understanding. ‘If you do decide that it’s best for us to go home early, then I totally understand.’

  ‘Maybe it’s best that we deal with it here,’ I said.

  ‘Maybe.’

  He got up and dropped his empty bowl into the sink. ‘Well, we survived the storm,’ he said, gazing out of the kitchen window at the now calm world outside. ‘We could go for a walk along the coast later,’ he said, returning to his seat. ‘There’s a lovely Blue Flag beach just a mile down from here.’

  ‘Sounds good.’ I heard Grace stirring from the bedroom. ‘You know,’ I said, before I left to see to her, ‘my mother used to say that you don’t measure the strength of a marriage in the best of times; you measure it in the worst of times.’

  ***

  We went for our walk along the coast, taking in the beauty of the North Devon environment. The weather was clear, fresh and bright, affording us spectacular views along the coastline and out to sea. We descended to the beach that James had mentioned, and spent an hour exploring the rock pools and caves that had been left exposed by the retreating tide. Grace was snug in the baby carrier, sleeping part of the time. She particularly enjoyed seeing the sea life that had been left stranded in the pools – including several starfish and a crab.

  Things felt strangely normal while we were out. We even shared a few laughs, although there was no physical contact. It was only upon our return to the cottage for lunch that I again began to brood over the affair.

  And then, just after we had finished lunch, someone knocked at the door.

  We looked at one another. Then James jumped up and peered around the kitchen window, to see if he could catch sight of the visitor.

  ‘I’d better answer it,’ he said, making for the door.

  ‘Wait!’ I said, halting him in his tracks. ‘What if it’s her?’

  Now there were a series of bangs. Someone was hammering on the wood with what sounded like a clenched fist.

  ‘Please!’ we heard a voice shout through the letter box. ‘Please, let me in to explain!’

  It was Sophie.

  11

  ‘Please, just let me in!’

  James looked at me for direction. I couldn’t think fast enough. I really didn’t want her in the cottage, but what other alternative was there? ‘Be careful,’ was all I could manage.

  James nodded. ‘Maybe you should take Grace into the living room.’

  I didn’t need asking twice. I lifted her out of the high chair and retreated to the next room. There was no way that I wanted Grace to be caught up in something like this, even if she was too young to understand what was happening. I stood just behind the living room door, waiting with trepidation as James approached the front door.

  ‘Sophie,’ he said, through the still closed door. ‘You shouldn’t have come here.’

  ‘I need to explain!’ she shouted. ‘Let me in, please!’

  She began banging on the door again.

  ‘There’s no way I’m letting her in while she’s in that state,’ James said, entering the living room. ‘No chance.’

  ‘James!’ she shouted.

  I held Grace closer to me. ‘So what are we going to do? We can’t call the police, that’s for sure. We can’t call anyone.’

  James ran a hand through his hair. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘James, open the door!’

  More banging.

  ‘I’ll jump right off this cliff if you don’t let me in.’

  ‘I’m so sorry, George. This is all my fault. And I’ve got to sort it out.’

  He turned back towards the door.

  I blocked his path. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘I’ll go outside and talk to her; calm her down. Don’t worry – I won’t let her into the cottage.’

  I thought for a second, then nodded. It was a far from ideal scenario, but I couldn’t see what else we could do. ‘Just watch out, James. Please, be careful.’

  He kissed me. ‘Whatever you do, stay in the cottage.’

  12

  I took up my position again by the living room door.

  ‘Sophie, I’m going to open the door, and we can talk. But we do it outside, not in the cottage. Do you understand?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Move back from the door then, and I’ll come out.’

  I felt sick as I heard James first unlock, then open the door. I’d half-expected Sophie to rush at the entrance in order to get inside, but there was no other sound until the door closed.

  I rushed over to the living room window and could see James and Sophie outside, right by the cliff’s edge. Sophie was gesticulating and shouting, while James was trying to calm her down. Part of me longed to go outside and see if I could do anything. But James was right – I needed to stay inside, with Grace.

  Suddenly Sophie headed for the edge and James raced after her, rugby tackling her just before she could jump. They both hit the ground short of the drop.

  I breathed a massive sigh of relief.

  I watched as they got to their feet. The shock of the event must have calmed Sophie down, as she just stood there, looking at James. James reached out and they embraced.

  Jealousy flared and I wanted to rip them apart.

  He would never touch that woman again, if I had my way.

  They released their hold. James was looking towards the rear of the cottage. He said something and then Sophie turned to look.

  Their confused expressions turned to horror.

  Both began to run as the car appeared. James went left, and Sophie right. The car slammed right into Sophie and took her with it over the cliff.

  I turned away from the window, numb with shock. My body was shaking and I buried my head against Grace, bursting into tears.

  Outside I could hear James shouting.

  Epilogue

  The emergency services found Michael’s car and body at the bottom of the cliff, along with Sophie. Neither of them stood a chance, such was the drop down to the rocks below. Michael had left a note at their house, explaining how he knew about the affair. In the letter, he admitted to doing things to James, including cold calling him and sending the bleeding heart warning. The police and coroner were satisfied that Michael had intended to kill himself, and his wife. The assumption was that he had followed Sophie down to the cottage, possibly thinking that she was going there to meet with James.

  Maybe seeing Sophie and James embrace had provoked that final, violent act.

  It took some time for us to really move on from what happened. And some days, it was still difficult. But we were in many ways stronger as a family than we had ever been.

  I’ve often thought, what might have happened if Sophie’s pregnancy had not been cut so cruelly short.

  But life isn’t that easy to predict.

  ###

  THE END

  ###

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  Read the opening chapters to The One You Love, the first novel in Paul’s bestselling Emma Holden trilogy. Filled with twists, turns and cliff-hangers, the trilogy has sold over a quarter of a million copies worldwide, and has received over 2000 five star reviews on Amazon. In the UK it is published by Hodder and Stoughton (Hachette).

  The One You Love

  (Emma Holden trilogy, book 1)

  Emma Holden’s nightmare has just begun. Her fiancé vanishes, leaving the battered and bloodied body of his brother in their London apartment. Someone is stalking her, watching her every move. And her family are hiding a horrifying secret; a secret that threatens all those she loves. In a desperate race against time, Emma must uncover the truth if she ever wants to see her fiancé alive again.

  Prologue

  He watched from the boat as they sailed past the sights of London – the thrusting steel spires of Canary Wharf, the domed O2 Arena, then Tower Bridge and, finally, the London Eye and Westminster. The sky was deep blue and the sun’s heat intense, so the cooling river breeze was heaven.

  After disembarking, he headed for the tube. The day in the capital had been enjoyable. But now the holiday was over, and the real business was just beginning.

  It was time.

  Soon she would know just how bad it felt.

  1

  ‘Em, it’s Will. Where the hell is that fiancé of yours? He didn’t turn up at the meeting place, and he’s not answering his phone.’

  Emma Holden pressed her mobile into one ear and cupped her hand over the other, but still struggled to hear what her brother was saying over the chatter of the busy London pub. The Irish theme bar was heaving with twenty- and thirty-somethings – mostly City workers celebrating the end of the working week and the beginning of a long, sunny August Bank Holiday weekend. Emma, however, was celebrating something far more important – her wedding, due to take place in just over a week’s time. And while this place wouldn’t usually have been her first choice for a night out – it was so busy that it was difficult even to turn around –somehow it seemed perfect for a hen party.

  ‘Hang on a minute,’ she shouted into her phone, reaching around a group of people and handing her drink to her friend, Lizzy. She nodded and smiled as Emma gestured that she was going outside. ‘I’m going somewhere quieter,’ Emma shouted into her mobile as she began to weave her way through the crowds. ‘Can’t hear anything in here.’

  After a monumental effort she reached the door and exited into the sultry night air, leaving the rest of her ten-strong hen party inside. The distinctive central London summer smell hit her: a mixture of fast food, beer and exhaust fumes. For the first time that evening she felt the alcohol going to her head, somehow ushered on by the waning sunlight.

  ‘Sorry about that,’ she said, stepping out onto the crowded pavement – the heat wave that had baked the country for the past two weeks had really brought out the revellers. ‘That was my fault – Lizzy persuaded the barman to turn the music up. Now it’s so loud my eardrums feel like they’re about to burst. I only noticed your call because I had my mobile out, showing Lizzy and the girls some photos from last week.’

  ‘Em,’ Will said. His serious tone made Emma check herself, as though he’d just issued her with an order. ‘Where’s Dan? He didn’t turn up in Covent Garden, and he’s not answering his mobile or your home phone.’

  ‘What?’ Emma absorbed the news as she watched a garish, white stretch limo cruise past. A group of laughing girls, heads out the window, toasted passers-by with glasses full of champagne.

  ‘Yee ha, cowgirl!’ one of the girls shouted from the limo window. For a second Emma was confused, before remembering what she was wearing. The Wild West outfits had been Lizzy’s idea. And dressing up was compulsory, especially for the bride-to-be. She took off her cowgirl hat and held it under her arm.

  Will was out with a group of Dan’s friends – a mixture of university mates and colleagues from the web company where Dan worked. ‘We even went over to your flat,’ Will continued. ‘Thought he might be running late, but he’s not answering the intercom. We’re all standing outside there now. I also tried to reach Richard, but he’s not picking up either. They’re not with you lot, are they?’

  ‘No.’ Emma raked her fingers through her shoulder-length, brown, glitter-sparkled hair. Richard, Dan’s brother, had been due to rendezvous with the group in the centre of town later that evening. Why would they both be out of contact? ‘Last I saw of Dan was when I left to go out, about two hours ago. You sure you didn’t miss him in Covent Garden?’

  ‘Positive. We stuck around there for over an hour. All we needed was a tambourine and collection basket and we’d have made a fortune.’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ she said, beginning to pace up and down outside the pub, suddenly forgetting the party going on inside. ‘He was about to go out when I left to come here. He wouldn’t have been more than a few minutes behind me.’

  ‘It’s a bloody mystery, then.’ Will paused. ‘You don’t suppose he got cold feet, decided to head off to LA with Cameron Diaz?’

  ‘Screw you, William.’

  ‘Just joking,’ he said with a laugh, breaking the tension. ‘The man would be mad to turn down the chance to marry my little sister.’

  ‘That’s better.’

  ‘Seriously though, Em. What if he’s had an accident or something?’

  ‘An accident?’

  ‘He could have been in a road accident.’

  ‘Aren’t you being a bit melodramatic?’

  ‘Probably, but these things can happen.’

  ‘Do you have to be such a pessimist?’ said Emma, watching as two police officers attempted to cajole a homeless man from a shop doorway opposite: a sad but familiar London sight. ‘He’s probably stuck on the tube – that’s why he can’t answer his phone. You know what the Underground’s been like this week. I was stuck on the Northern Line for half an hour on Wednesday. Signal failure or something.’

  ‘Maybe,’ he replied. ‘I was thinking of breaking your door down, though, just in case.’

  ‘Don’t you dare! You’d hurt yourself. Anyway, I’m the black belt, not you.’

  ‘Okay, Bruce Lee.’ Will feigned disappointment. ‘I’m just looking out for my little sister.’

  ‘I know. And you always have done.’

  ‘Hey, that’s why older brothers were invented. Tell you what, I’ll wait here and see if he turns up.’

  ‘No,’ Emma said, moving away from the pub door as what appeared to be another hen party pushed inside; this group was dressed as cheerleaders, with ultra-tight tops and mini-skirts. At least Lizzy hadn’t gone for that idea. ‘Go back to Covent Garden in case he turns up there. I’ll try and call him myself.’

  ‘The others can go back, but I’d rather stick around here,’ insisted Will. ‘This is all pretty strange, Em. You don’t think—’

  ‘Don’t even say it,’ Emma interrupted. ‘Just don’t.’

  ‘You’re right. This is totally different from last time.’

  Once Will had rung off, Emma tried several times to contact both Dan and Richard. But it was no good – neither was answering their phones. She returned inside, the party spirit in her having been completely wiped out.

  ‘Hey, there you are!’ said Lizzy, throwing a semi-drunken arm around her as she returned to the group. ‘Wondered where you’d got to. Thought you might have sneaked off for a crafty last snog with some hunky stockbroker before it’s too late. After all, you’re still twenty-eight, free and single – for the moment.’

  Emma didn’t meet Lizzy’s smile. Instead, she looked down at her mobile phone, still grasped tightly in her hand, hardly hearing what her best friend was saying. All she wanted to do was get out of there as quickly as possible and find out what was going on.

  ‘Get this down you,’ Lizzy ordered, forcing a cocktail into Emma’
s free hand. ‘You’re far too sober for my liking. I’m in charge tonight, and whatever I say, goes. And I say drink! Cheers!’

  ‘Cheers,’ Emma said half-heartedly, clinking glasses.

  She watched as a beaming Lizzy took a swig of her drink. She’d met the ever-cheerful Lizzy, a pretty strawberry blonde with a big heart and even bigger voice, at an audition three years ago. Since that initial meeting the two had become good friends and had flat-shared for a time, until eighteen months ago when Emma had moved in with Dan. A classically trained singer, Lizzy was now plying her trade on the West End stage, where she had a role in Like We Did Last Summer, a new romantic musical based around popular tunes from the Swinging Sixties.

  ‘You okay?’ Lizzy finally noticed that Emma seemed distracted.

  ‘I’m not sure.’ Emma played with the straw and ice cubes in her drink. ‘It’s Dan. He’s gone missing.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘That was Will on the phone. He said Dan didn’t turn up for the stag party. And now no one can get hold of him. I just tried to call him now. His mobile sounds like it’s turned off, and there’s no answer on the home phone.’

  ‘But wasn’t he about to leave when I arrived at yours?’ Lizzy said.

  ‘Yeah. That’s what worries me.’

  ‘Maybe he’s stuck on the tube?’ Lizzy raised an eyebrow.

  ‘That’s what I thought. But it’s been two hours, Lizzy.’

  ‘I’m sure he’s fine,’ Lizzy offered, lightly touching Emma’s arm.

  ‘You don’t think he’s had second thoughts, do you?’ Emma’s hitherto buried insecurities found a voice. ‘You know I said he’s been acting weird over the past few weeks. Maybe he’s decided that I’m not what he wants.’

 

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