by Cat Hogan
Chapter 20
She was surprised to see Scott at the front door and, even though Andy was back out at sea, she felt obliged to offer an invitation to come inside for a coffee, which he accepted.
‘Good to see you’re on the mend, Jen. Only one crutch?’
‘Getting there now, Scott.’
Jen led the way into the kitchen and gestured for him to take a seat.
She switched on the kettle and put coffee in the cafetière. He made no attempt to help her as she hobbled back and forth between the counter and the table with cups and cutlery, but she didn’t ask.
‘I had fun the other night, Scott. It’s been ages since I’ve been out for a few drinks.’ She was trying to give him the benefit of the doubt and make the effort, but she still felt on edge in his company.
‘Yes, indeed, it was fun. Andy and I had a really nice meal in there the following evening. The food is good.’
‘The food has always been great in the pub – it’s packed in the summer with tourists going mad for crab rolls and bowls of mussels. On a sunny day, it’s glorious down there for lunch in the beer garden.’ She carried the cafetière over to the table and went back to fetch him a slice of cake.
‘Yes, I’ve been speaking with Tess and made a few suggestions to her about the place,’ he said.
Hmm, that’s interesting, she thought. Tess had mentioned in passing that things were looking up financially – she wondered if he had something to do with that.
As she placed the cake in front of him he looked up at her.
‘So then, Jen, you and Andy? Should I be booking caterers for the impending wedding or is it just a fling?’
Jen’s cheeks instantly flushed. ‘Jeepers, Scott. Steady on with the wedding talk there.’
‘I’m joking, Jen. Just having you on.’
He was guffawing at his own joke, but it didn’t feel like a joke to her. She wanted to stay as far away from him as possible but for the sake of being polite she sat down opposite him, putting her crutch on the floor at her feet.
‘Honestly, Jen. Lighten up, I’m messing.’
He patted her leg under the table, and it gave her the creeps.
They made small talk about her work and the Opera Festival. The minutes seemed to drag by for her. He was waffling on about the Opera Society but all she could think about was an excuse to get rid of him. He finished his monologue and turned his attention back to her love life.
‘So, Andy said you’re seeing each other now. He likes you.’
‘He’s a nice guy, and I like him too, Scott, but I’m just taking it as it comes.’
‘That’s wise, Jen.’
‘Dammit, my tea tastes weird, there must be lime in the water again. Would you like a fresh coffee, Scott, or do you need to get going?’ Jen didn’t like the way this conversation was heading. He was too forward for her liking, and she didn’t like the way he almost assumed ownership over her.
‘Here, allow me. I’m in no rush at all – you sit there and I’ll make it.’
‘Fine. The water filter is in the fridge. But I’m a little pushed for time, Scott. I need to leave shortly.’
As he rose from the table, he picked up Jen’s crutch and propped it against the kitchen counter. It was now out of her reach and the action unnerved her. Her mobile phone was in her bag on the hall floor. She could get around without the crutch, but very slowly. The fact she was thinking about having to move at speed alarmed her. Something in his demeanour felt all wrong to her.
‘Andy is a very good friend of mine, Jen, and after everything he has been through I worry for him. He is still vulnerable, you know?’
‘Scott, Andy is a grown man. I’m sure he’s capable of making his own decisions. It’s early days, and we are simply enjoying each other’s company.’ She was getting pissed off by his tone – it sounded more like he was warning her off than looking out for his mate.
‘Aren’t you curious about Sharon, Jen? Do you wonder about her? She was the love of his life after all.’
‘Of course I wonder about her, Scott. She was his wife and, as you say, the love of his life. It’s part of his history. I’m sure she was lovely, and I would imagine Andy will tell me about her when he feels ready to. ’
She felt disloyal to Andy – it wasn’t appropriate to be sitting here, engaging in a conversation about his dead wife.
‘Lovely, Jen? She was absolutely flawless – that’s why he fell for her. Every inch of her was perfect. Andy seeks perfection in everything – surely you can see that much?’
‘Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, isn’t that what they say?’
‘They also say beauty is only skin deep, Jen.’
She was listening forensically now. He was taunting her, and she knew it. How could he know about the scars?
‘She was the absolute belle of the ball, everywhere she went. Everyone wanted to be her friend. So interesting and graceful – not frumpy or bland.’
‘Sounds like you had a crush on her too.’
‘I did.’
He let that one hang in the air, and she was certain he was enjoying this.
‘So, why didn’t you two get together then? Didn’t you know her before he did?’
‘I met someone else.’
‘So what happened to your girlfriend? What was she like?’
‘She disappeared, just before the end of Uni. Never saw her again.’
She was glad the conversation was steering away from Andy and Sharon, but it wasn’t for long.
‘Sharon and I remained friends, of course, during college, and straight after that they married. But, she had changed by then.’
He was talking to himself now. He wasn’t in the room with her – he was off somewhere in his past.
‘Sharon had become so controlling. They were both working and they had a beautiful house. Living the dream some would say, but I could see Andy wasn’t happy. He was trapped. All she wanted to do was work and spend romantic weekends with her husband. He was never allowed to go anywhere with his friends.’
‘Isn’t that what all couples want to do, Scott? And I’m sure Andy isn’t a pushover.’ She was intrigued now, and couldn’t stop herself. She wanted to know about this woman, the ghost she was being judged against.
‘She was always hassling him about starting a family. He didn’t want to, never could stand kids really. He would have had one out of duty eventually, but she kept nagging and nagging. She was becoming a real problem.’ He was clearly angry now, his words coming out in short bursts.
‘Hang on a second, Scott. How can you say he can’t stand children? I’ve seen him around Danny and that’s not the impression I get. Did he actually tell you he didn’t want kids? Surely that’s something he would have discussed with his wife, not you?’
She got his attention with that.
‘He tells me everything,’ he said, looking agitated. ‘Everything!’
‘Scott, I feel uncomfortable discussing Andy’s marriage with you. It’s not appropriate. I need to use the bathroom and then I need to get going.’ She had to get away from him. Her heart was hammering in her chest and she wasn’t quite sure where this conversation was going to end up.
He didn’t listen to her. ‘Depression, she claimed she had. She wasn’t depressed at all, you know – she used to just blackmail good old loyal Andy with that one.’
Jen stood up.
‘What are you doing?’ he barked.
‘I need to use the bathroom and, as I have just said, I need to get going.’
‘Oh, sorry, Jen. Listen to me, rambling on here.’ He stood up too.
She leaned her weight against the table – she needed to get her crutch. If she had to, she could walk on her bad ankle, but it hurt like hell.
‘Jen, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be painting such a bleak picture about Sharon. She wasn’t the worst, and she had mellowed until that night on Achill Island. Poor Andy, I’ll never forget his face when he saw her on the beach. I found her
, you know.’
‘No, I didn’t know that, Scott. It must have been hard for you as well.’
He was standing between her and the door to the hallway. He was blocking her.
‘I had to tell him his wife was dead. I think in the end, though, it was for the best and he was grateful.’
The comment frightened her. He’s sick in the head, she thought.
He looked her straight in the eye. She was rooted to the spot, and he was smirking as his eyes travelled down her body and back up to her face.
Jen limped over to the counter, grabbed the crutch and made for the door. She forced herself to hobble straight at him and he stepped out of her way.
She awkwardly climbed the stairs and sighed with relief when the bathroom door was firmly shut behind her.
What was he trying to imply there? She was frightened of him, of that she was certain. Think, Jen, think. OK, pull yourself together – you’re reading way too many crime novels.
She couldn’t hide upstairs in the bathroom all day. She washed her face and went back down to the kitchen, picking up her bag on the way.
Scott was sauntering around as though he owned the place.
‘Scott, I’m going to have to get going now. I have a couple of things to do before I pick Danny up.’
‘How can you drive, with a bad foot?’
‘Dad drives an automatic, so we swapped until I can manage the manual again.’
‘You are a clever girl, Jen. A problem-solver like me, eh? It was suicide in the end, you know.’
‘Sorry. What?’ She was fussing around trying to find her phone and her keys. She pulled her phone out of the bag, only to realise the battery was dead.
‘Sharon. According to the death report, it was an accident. But she didn’t fall. She committed suicide that night. Jumped off the cliff. But the riddle always remains: she was afraid of heights. Why did she go up there? Maybe somebody forced her? Maybe someone pushed her?’
‘Poor girl. It’s sad.’ She was no longer trying to make sense of what he was saying. She had to get out. ‘Scott, I have to go. I’m sorry to rush you out like this.’
‘That’s OK, Jen. Maybe I can come back another evening and keep you company while Andy is away. You can tell me how you like him to turn you on.’
She couldn’t believe her ears. I have to get out of here now, she thought. He’s a dangerous man.
She scooped her bag up on to her shoulder and stood to her full height.
‘Scott, that’s not a good idea. You need to leave. Now.’
He smiled and licked his lips. ‘I don’t need to do anything, Jen. You are not fucking me, so you don’t get to tell me what to do. Maybe I’ll fuck you here, right on the table, and you can then control me. You women are all the same. You get the leg over, and you think you own us.’
The blood ran cold in her veins. She was screaming at herself to get him out. Her hands were clammy and she had a feeling of dread in her stomach.
‘What is fucking wrong with you, Scott? Get out of my fucking house!’
‘Let me see your scars, Jen. I have a bit of a fetish about women with scars.’
He lunged forwards, and pinned her up against the table. She tried to swing the crutch, but she couldn’t move.
He’s going to rape me, he’s going to rape me, was on loop in her head. The air had drained from her lungs and she couldn’t breathe. All she could hear was the blood in her ears and his breath coming in gasps.
Then he stopped.
‘I’m joking, Jen.’ He stood back and laughed at her, as though she had just told him a joke. ‘You’re very easy to wind up, my dear, but perhaps I took the joke a bit too far.’
‘Scott, please leave.’ She was shaking now, and her legs were like lead.
He straightened his jacket and grabbed his keys from the table. He started to whistle. Every fibre in her body screamed at her to run, sore ankle or not, but she was frozen to the spot. She couldn’t move.
‘Oh, and before I leave, Jen, I just want to tell you this. If you breathe a word of this to Andy or fail to show up at the garden party next week, not only will I make sure Sal’s deal falls through, I will also cancel the funding for your other friend, Tess. Eighty grand is a lot of money to lose over the whim of a friend, don’t you think? Andy won’t believe you either. And let’s not even get started about your little boy. You have him to consider too. Tread carefully, Jen, or I will come back and fuck you for real, in every sense of the word. Ciao, dear!’
He was gone.
The sound of the engine in the driveway was matched by the sound of her retching into the kitchen sink. She sank to the floor and sobbed, unsure of what he had just admitted, and what he was capable of doing.
She needed to pull herself together and figure this out. With difficulty, she managed to pull herself up off the floor, and back on to the crutch. If that monster ever threatened her again, she’d have him arrested. He had threatened her little boy – he would pay for that one – and no, she wasn’t going to give him what he wanted. Trying to scare her off Andy, like a jealous teenage girl.
She hobbled upstairs and sat on her bed. She wished Andy was here – it would never have happened had he been at home – but, then again, if she hadn’t been with Andy in the first place, it wouldn’t have happened either. Scott would have no reason to threaten her if she wasn’t involved with him.
Her eye fell on a small pile of underwear at the end of the bed. They belonged to Andy and had got mixed up with her laundry. She picked them up, hobbled to Andy’s room and opened the door. She hadn’t come in here since she moved in. Maybe I shouldn’t be doing this, she thought as she put the clothes down on a chair – it’s an invasion of his privacy. Am I just using the underwear as an excuse to nose around?
The room smelled of him, citrus fresh. His jumper was on the end of the bed. She picked it up and pressed it to her face, breathing in his smell.
The bedside locker was inviting her to have a look in the drawers, but she refrained. Get out, Jen, stop encroaching on his space. Don’t open the drawers. She didn’t, but she did spot a black box wedged between the locker and his bed. Picking it up, her hands shook as she opened the lid. It was his wedding album, lovingly preserved in a lightproof box.
The book itself was beautiful, a cover of embossed leather edged with cream lace – no doubt from her actual wedding dress. There it was, on the front cover: Sharon & Andy – The Wedding. She ran her finger over the names, tracing the outline. She wondered if they had picked the design together, or if Sharon had free rein about everything. It felt as beautiful as it looked, delicately padded.
She opened the book, almost afraid that Sharon would jump out of the pages and ask her what the hell she was up to.
‘I just have to see you for real, Sharon,’ she said to the book.
She was even more beautiful than she thought she would be, and Andy was just as stunning. He looked so happy staring at her from the page, his grey morning suit in perfect harmony with her vintage ivory-lace gown. So understated, so glamorous. The pictures were all the same, a sea of smiling happy faces, all full of love and wishes for a wonderful life for the happy couple.
Scott was there too. Younger of course, and it went without saying he was best man. It was a small and expensive-looking gathering, judging by the grounds and the backdrop. They looked very much in love, and perfect for each other. How could she compete with her? She was perfect and eternally worshipped by everyone.
Jen was feeling a whole host of emotions which she wasn’t sure how to deal with.
Flicking through the book, she noticed that Scott was in most of the photos. Always there, right beside Andy or never too far away.
How can I tell anyone I suspect Scott killed his best friend’s wife, made it look like a suicide and spilled the beans to me just before he threatened to rape me on my own kitchen table? They would all think I’m stark raving mad. He’s already got my two closest friends on side, and now I’m being black
mailed with that. Why is he doing this, what does he possibly stand to gain from it, and why is he so possessive of Andy?
She packed the wedding album back into the box, and put it back exactly as she found it.
She tried to think straight for a couple of moments. Would he come back, she kept asking herself, would he have the capacity to come here one night and follow through on his threat? She had a feeling he just might. She needed a plan, and fast. Andy was due back in a few days, and something would have to be said or done.
Slightly out of breath from trudging down the stairs and out the door, she sat into the car and closed her eyes. She tried to rid herself of the memory of Scott’s face breathing down on top of her. His eyes were so full of hatred towards her that murderous was the only description.
She eased the car out of the drive, and pointed it in the direction of school. She would collect her boy, and do the usual, then figure out the madness after dinner that evening.
Chapter 21
The view of the house was breathtaking, and absolutely huge. Jen felt sick at the prospect of seeing Scott, but hadn’t had any choice but to come. Andy was driving, and his excitement was in direct opposition to her feelings of dread. She hadn’t said a word to anyone about the incident in the kitchen, but hadn’t slept for nights thinking about it – unable to find a solution. The sweeping drive on the approach to the house was long and stately, but in her head it would never be long enough.