by Mick Bose
She goes inside, and the doors swing open and shut. I look in through again. This time, I actually open the door and stick my head in. I swivel my head side to side. The place is a hive of activity. Bodies rush past one another, balancing trays held above their heads.
Then I see him. He is facing me, but his head is down, and he hasn’t seen me. His swarthy, tanned face is still square-jawed, handsome as the last time. His attention is focused on the drinks tray in front of him. He reaches inside his pocket and takes out a small vial. He looks around himself quickly, then empties the content of the vial into a red wine glass. It’s a white powder. He puts the vial back into his pocket.
He looks up and I shrink backwards as fast as I can. My back slams against the wall and I take deep breaths. I look at our table, and my heart sinks when I see Jeremy standing up. I sink down against the wall, feeling foolish.
The door bangs open, and it would have hit me if I wasn’t crouching. A figure strides out. It’s Clive, and he is holding the tray with drinks in his left hand. I can see the glass of red wine into which he just poured the white stuff.
Jeremy turns and sees Clive striding towards him. He is heading straight for our table.
CHAPTER 33
An electric charge shoots through my spine. I straighten quickly. I know what’s going to happen now. That glass of red wine is for Jeremy. He loves having it with his food. I walk up to the table rapidly. I can see Clive’s plan with crystal clarity. There’s poison in that glass of red wine. If he drinks it, and dies, then the suspicion will naturally fall on me. I am sitting next to him, and I’m already in trouble with the police.
Clive is serving the drinks, and he looks up as I approach. Our eyes meet and his lips curl. His dark eyes glint and flash at me, like he’s sending me an invisible message. I ignore him. My eyes fall on the glasses on the table. The red wine glass is right in front of Jeremy. I am the only one standing, apart from Clive. Joanne is sitting opposite me, with her husband next to her. They both give me a look. My face feels like it’s on fire. Wide-eyed, I scan the rest of the table. Tim and a couple of the other men have glasses as well, and I count another three red wine glasses.
Jeremy turns and sees me. He exclaims, “Darling! Where have you been?” I note the look in his eyes as he catches my flushed appearance.
“Will there be any more drinks for the table?” Clive, the waiter, is leaning forward. Suave and polite. The women are staring at him, frank admiration on their faces.
“That’s fine for now,” Tim says, and Clive smiles. He looks at me directly, holding my eyes briefly. His smile vanishes and a vicious sneer flashes across his face. It lasts only a second, but I know what he’s telling me.
Don’t tell anyone you saw me.
He moves away swiftly. I watch spellbound, as Jeremy reaches for his glass. I sit down close to him, unable to tear my eyes away from the blood-red glass of wine he’s holding.
I cannot let him drink that. I know it’s poisoned.
Images flash through my mind. Jeremy drinks it. Then he vomits, passes out, gets taken to hospital where he’s pronounced dead.
I am left the grieving widow. Then Clive comes back in my life. I see him again. This time from behind the screen of a prison meeting chamber…
No, no, no! What the hell is wrong with me? What am I thinking?
He is controlling this, laughing behind my back. Like he controlled my life ten years ago.
“I propose a toast,” Tim is saying. He lifts his glass of wine high in the air. “To the success of Sheldrake and Partners.”
Everyone toasts apart from me. My Prosecco glass remains untouched. Jeremy is holding the glass and in slow motion he brings it closer to his lips. I watch hypnotised as the rim of the glass touches his lips.
Why am I not doing anything? I feel frozen solid, a block of ice incapable of moving.
Then suddenly, like a spring uncoiled, I move. I turn to Jeremy, cover my mouth with my hand, and lurch towards him like I’m going to vomit. Only I don’t. I slap the bottom of the wine glass he holds, lifting it up in the air. Wine spurts up from the glass in an arch, a liquid crimson, poisoned rainbow. The wine falls with a splash on the dress of the woman sitting next to Jeremy. It splatters over her naked V-neck and ruins her dress, and she screams, tries to stand up, pushing her chair back.
I fall over Jeremy, and in the process, lift up his plate of food that slides over my dress, and falls on his lap. There is pandemonium at our table, with screams and shouts, and the thudding of footsteps tells me people are rushing towards us.
“Emma! Em, will you sit up? What’s the matter…?” I feel Jeremy’s strong hands curl around my shoulders and he’s straightening me.
I resist as long as I can, and then sit up with a red face. My eyes are closed and I am sweating. I lean against Jeremy, pretending to be ill. But I look at the table for his wine glass. It’s on its side, all the wine drained from it. It’s also cracked. Red stains cover the white tablecloth. When I look closer, I can see a white residue at the bottom of the glass. Then I close my eyes again.
“She’s sick, passed out…” someone is saying.
“Yes, it’s my wife.” Jeremy’s voice. “I think I need to take her outside.”
I open my eyes slowly, and find a few faces peering down at me. They all look relieved that I’m back. I am still reclining against Jeremy. I get off him and sit down on the chair. He kneels by my feet. His face is a mixture of concern and confusion.
“Are you alright, Emma?” he asks.
“Yes.” I touch my forehead. “I think I fainted. Can we go, please? I don’t feel well at all.”
We say our goodbyes to the puzzled and strained faces around the table. Jeremy has a tight, fixed expression on his face, his lips set tightly in a thin line. I know he’s angry. The waiters have arrived, hovering around us. They change the tablecloth and have to set the table from scratch again. The guests stand to one side. I look around for Clive, but he’s nowhere to be seen.
Eventually we leave. A cab is waiting for us, and I am glad to sink into the back seat. My dress is a mess, and I’ve been to the loo to clean up. So has Jeremy, but he got off lightly, I think.
Very lightly.
He holds my hand, and his tone is comforting. “Shall we go to the hospital?”
I shake my head. I will tell him eventually about the whole thing, but for now I just want to get back home.
Jenny is surprised to see us back so early. I explain that I wasn’t feeling well and pay her. She leaves. Jeremy goes upstairs to change, and so do I. Molly is fast asleep on her bed, and I tuck her sheets in and check the lock on her windows once again.
When I come back down, Jeremy is looking inside the fridge. He pulls out a pizza and prepares to pop it in the oven. Then he straightens and looks at me carefully.
“You’re not…” He leaves the sentence unfinished. There is a gleam in his eyes, an excitement. I shake my head, feeling crestfallen as I watch the light die in his eyes.
He shrugs. “Just wondered, that’s all.”
I fold my arms around him, and briefly, he hugs me back. I inhale his scent, still the fragrance of the aftershave he put on before leaving. Then he detaches himself.
“Then what was that? Have you got a bug or something?”
He needs to know. “He was there, Jeremy. My ex-boyfriend. I saw him put a white powder in your drink.”
Jeremy’s eyebrows shoot up. “So you did all of that because you thought I was getting poisoned?”
“Not thought, Jeremy. I saw it with my own eyes.”
There’s an expression of incredulity on his face. I might as well have slapped him. “Are you serious?”
“Yes,” I nod unhappily. I go on to tell him what had happened. Jeremy gets up and starts pacing.
“This is getting out of hand. This guy’s mad.”
I say nothing. Jeremy says, “This was bad. I’ll have a lot of explaining to do when I see them tomorrow.”
&nbs
p; “Is that what you are bothered about?” I can’t keep the anger out of my voice.
“I…we looked like fools in front of them, Emma. Surely you can see that.” He’s annoyed, too. “I had a lot of networking to do. Many of our clients were there and meeting them was kind of the whole point of the dinner.”
“Well, I’m sorry I saved your life, Jeremy. No need to thank me. None at all. Why don’t you go back there and meet your clients?”
I storm off, and stalk upstairs in a huff. I sit on our bed, holding my head in my hands. I feel like a knitted garment whose threads are unravelling one by one. My mind is shredded to bits, and I don’t know how long I can live like this. The edge is getting closer, and all I can see is a looming black hole, ready to suck me in.
I close my eyes and lie down, not bothering to change. One question runs around in my mind like a rat in a toolbox.
What will he try next?
CHAPTER 34
Morning light flutters in through the gaps in the curtains. The rays are weak and paltry, like me, the sun seems not able to muster up enough strength to rise today.
I am awake but my eyes are closed. The alarm hasn’t gone off as yet which means it’s not 6.45 am. Jeremy is getting ready, I can hear him in the bathroom. His electric razor is on. I follow the sound of his footsteps as he goes into his study, where he keeps his clothes as well.
Normally we save this time in the morning for something else. Lately, on my part at least, there’s not been any desire.
I get up and pad into the bathroom. Molly is up soon, and I know she will come downstairs where I’m making my coffee. Jeremy is there, too. He appraises me as he sips his tea. The steam rises from the cup, obscuring his face.
“How are you feeling?” he asks. It’s the kind of loaded question I don’t want to answer. Not sure what I’m supposed to say. I feel great? I feel crap? It’s more the last one, definitely.
“I don’t know,” I say in a sullen voice, and move towards the kettle. I fill it up and boil it. I sense Jeremy behind me. I don’t turn around.
“I wanted to say thanks for last night. If I had drunk that wine, I don’t know what would have happened.”
My bad mood melts immediately. At least he believes me, and he doesn’t think it was for nothing. I turn around and fold myself against him. He isn’t warm, though. He gives me a perfunctory pat around the shoulders, then says he has to get ready.
Molly is down, and reminds me I need to brush her hair today. I give her breakfast and we go upstairs. She wants her hair down in plaits but there’s no time. We finish up breakfast and I check all the doors and windows again. Everything’s locked.
Traffic is heavy and I have to park farther out than usual. As we walk in, I see Suzy with her daughter Lisa, and baby in a pram. She greets me with a knowing smile.
“Tell all. Was last night good?”
My face must have told half the story because her expression changed. “What’s the matter?”
I tell her the best I can. She shakes her head. “Are you sure it was your ex-boyfriend? I can’t remember his name.”
“Clive. Yes, I’m dead sure it was him. He knows where I’m going, everything.” I can’t avoid craning my head up and taking a look around. Only school mums and children, with some dads. I can’t help watching them closely.
“It’s alright,” Suzy says. She’s been watching me, and her face is lined with worry. “He won’t come here, I’m sure.”
We are close to the school gates and I say, “Let’s talk about it later, OK?” Suzy nods, and gives my hand a squeeze.
As Molly goes in, I see Miss Laker come out from the crowd of girls pushing to get inside. I have now grown used to the harassed yet patient look on her face, like she is used to being pulled in a hundred different directions, and able to go in none. I stand and wait as she comes over to me.
“Can we have a quick chat in our office please?”
Eva has arrived as well, a bit later than usual. She walks Lottie to the door of her classroom and then comes back. I am still speaking to Miss Laker.
“What for?” I ask, feeling almost as tired of this as I suspect she is getting.
She smiles resignedly without saying anything. Eva glances at me and says, “Surely you must know who’s responsible for bullying Henrietta by now?”
Miss Laker turns to her sharply. “I’m not allowed to speak about another child in this manner.” She reverts to me. “Please.” Her tone is pleading. I take pity on her.
Eva doesn’t seem happy with Miss Laker and is glaring at her. I tell her to wait for me.
“Oh don’t you worry,” Eva says. “I’ll be here alright. To see what new rubbish Mrs BS has come up with.” She says the name with emphasis and I can’t help but smile.
Miss Laker shuts the office door before she sits down opposite me at the desk. There’s no one else in here today. She looks at me apologetically.
“Henrietta has been hurt again,” she says. I take a deep breath. I know what’s coming, and I really don’t want to hear it. Not again.
“Mrs Burton-Smyth is…” Miss Laker hesitates, her eyes downcast. I frown, as she is normally a direct person.
“What is it?”
Miss Laker makes her mind up and it all comes out. “She wants Molly to stop attending this school. She is convinced that it’s your daughter who is causing the injuries to Henrietta. So she’s taking out a petition against Molly, and it’s being circulated from tomorrow to all the school parents.”
“What?!” I can’t believe myself. I can feel myself heating up, and there’s a space clearing inside my head, becoming light, airy.
Miss Laker swallows. “Look, I don’t agree with her. She sits on the governing board for the school, but the other governors don’t like what she’s doing either.”
I scrape my chair back and stand up. Lights are flashing on and off in my eyes. Red, blue and yellow. I can feel a migraine coming on. Blood trickles through my veins, thin as rain, burning like acid. I turn rage-cleared eyes on Miss Laker.
“Where is she?” My voice is calm, measured.
“Who?” Miss Laker is standing up as well and there is a scared look on her face.
“Mrs BS,” I say, spitting the initials out.
“She’s just in a meeting with the head teacher and…”
I turn on my heels and stride out of the office. I know where the head teacher’s office is. I come out of the doors and cross the courtyard. Miss Laker is running after me. Eva sees me and rushes over, and there’s two of them now, trailing after me as I stalk my way to the head teacher’s office.
Across the courtyard there’s a covered entrance that leads to the offices. As we approach, with myself in the lead, the door opens. Joanne and Tim Burton-Smyth step out. She’s dressed for work again, and holds a sheaf of papers in her hand. Her face pales when she sees me. I walk right up to her.
“Can I see those?” I say, pointing at the pieces of paper. She tries to move them, but I snatch, and pull, ripping some of the sheets. I stare at the remnant of one in my hand. The heading says: “Petition Against Molly Dixon, Year 4”.
I glower at her. “What the hell are you playing at?”
“Enough is enough,” she says in her snooty way. “Your behaviour at the party last night was deplorable. And guess what we learnt. Molly isn’t Jeremy’s child, is she? Do we even know who the father is?”
Something snaps and breaks inside my brain. I shout something but I don’t know what comes out of my mouth. Then I have grabbed her face in my hands, and digging my nails in, I shove her as hard as I can. Joanne screams, and her back hits the door. The papers go flying from her hand.
I jump on her, but someone else grabs me. It’s Tim, and he’s much stronger than me. His arms pin me down, and he drags me off. I kick at Joanne’s prostrate form but don’t make contact. My legs are still scything in the air. Neither Miss Laker nor Eva move a muscle to help Joanne. She scoots back and slowly gets up, holding her face.
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br /> “Calm down,” Tim whispers in my ear. I can feel his whiskers brushing against my cheeks. His breath is hot on my neck and his voice is wrought with iron.
I slow down. Tim lets me go. I shake free, then whirl round to face him. His green eyes are wary, hard, watching my movements.
Eva runs towards me. She stands next to me, and faces Tim. I say to him, “Tell your wife not to come close to my daughter, ever again.”
Tim spreads his arms. “That’s what she says about yours.”
“And do you believe her?” My throat is raspy, my voice breaking. Rage makes me quiver, and I’ll beat up Tim if necessary.
His face says it all. No, he doesn’t, and its only his neurotic wife who’s making him do this.
“Do you have any witnesses? Has anyone come forward to say they have seen Molly do anything?” I shout at him. A couple of the teachers are crossing the courtyard. They stop to listen. The schoolyard is quiet as the girls are inside, in their lessons.
“Even your own daughter didn’t say her name last time. And they play together!”
Joanne has stood up now. From behind me she says, “I will sue you.”
I turn on her. “And I’ll sue you back for defamation and harassment. You want that?”
Tim says quietly, “Mrs Mansell, why don’t you come and see me tomorrow? I’m sure we can settle this amicably.”
“You must be joking,” I say. I stalk off, Eva running with me to keep up.
CHAPTER 35
There are moments in life that feel like rips. A deep gash, destined to last. As I walk out of the school, this feels like one of those. I might have made a bad situation worse. But Joanne was asking for it, wasn’t she? Whatever happens now, at least she knows that she overstepped the mark. She might be going crazy because her daughter is being bullied, but she has no right to drive everyone else around her crazy as well.
Why doesn’t her daughter speak out and say who it is? The teachers have kept a close enough eye on Molly to be satisfied. And I know Molly isn’t a lying type of child.
I can’t think of who could be doing it, but it’s weird that Hen doesn’t say the name, and the child responsible is very discreet. That is disturbing. Is this child used to violence? Does she see it at her home? I don’t like this chain of thought.