Diane nodded.
‘Okay. And then this woman, that you’d never seen before, turns up, looks oddly at you and leaves you with those books. You never go back to the shop, but then you see the same woman in a number of places and she appears across the road from your daughter’s school several times. First question. Why didn’t you go to the police?’
It was a valid question. She tried to keep her voice calm as she explained. ‘Paul would find out and worry, even more than he does already. Also, I know I had a breakdown last year, but I’ve no idea what led up to it. So, at first, to be honest, I thought I was imagining her.’ Her voice dropped, the next words coming out hesitantly. ‘It’s hard to trust yourself when you know you’ve lost your way before.’
Anne looked at her thoughtfully for a moment before nodding slowly. ‘Yes, I can see how that would be. But now,’ she said, leaning forward, ‘if you think Paul might be responsible for all these strange goings-on, why not go to the police now?’
Diane shook her head. She hadn’t told Anne the humiliating and embarrassing story about her run-ins with the police, she didn’t need to know every detail. ‘I need more proof,’ she said now.
‘And you think he’s doing all of this, all these dreadful things, to get custody of Emma?’
‘In a nutshell,’ Diane said, knowing how crazy she must sound.
Anne watched her for a moment. ‘Are you still seeing someone from the clinic?’
Diane winced. ‘A psychiatrist, do you mean? You think I’m paranoid?’
‘No, no I don’t. The bit about your irrational fear of the room in your house sounds like you’re imagining stuff, but then we have to remember you have big gaps in your memory. Maybe something happened in there, and, somewhere deep in your mind, you’re beginning to remember and it’s scaring you.’
Diane nodded slowly. ‘It was something that had crossed my mind, to be honest, but I don’t know, Anne, everything seems to be connected. All I know for sure is, it started with that woman and it ends with Paul. And if I don’t find some proof, something solid to make sense of it all, I’m afraid I’m going to fall apart and end up back in that clinic.’
Anne reached a hand across and rested it on her arm. ‘I’m no expert, but considering all you’ve been through, you seem pretty together and strong to me,’ she said with a quick smile. ‘You don’t strike me, at all, as someone who is falling apart at the seams.’ She thought for a moment, then tapped the table with a fingernail as a thought came to her. ‘Tell me again why they haven’t filled in the blanks for you and told you what happened before your breakdown?’
Diane shook her head. ‘They want the memories to come back naturally. It’s called Spontaneous Recovery,’ she explained, ‘and is supposed to be better for me. They explained it as being a bit like why you are advised not to wake up a sleepwalker.’
‘Right, and your doctor said that.’
‘Yes,’ she said, and then thought a moment. ‘I think so. To be honest, the medication I was on at the time made me a bit groggy but Paul was with me at the final consultation before I was discharged. Any time I’ve asked since, he’s reminded me of what they said; that I’ve to let the memories come back naturally.’
‘It’s convenient for him, isn’t it? It keeps you unsettled by not knowing what happened.’
Diane’s eyed widened. ‘You think it’s a lie? That he’s deliberately hindering my recovery?’
Anne’s hand tightened on her arm. ‘Not a lie, no, I’ve heard about Spontaneous Recovery before, but it’s very convenient for him and maybe he’s playing on it.’
‘He certainly uses it,’ Diane said, remembering Paul’s insistence that they had discussed sending Emma to nursery. She felt the warmth of Anne’s hand. It felt reassuring. ‘I would never have thought he could be so cruel, I wonder if I ever really knew him.’
‘You were married very quickly…was it his idea?’
Diane hesitated, her mind slipping back to a different time. ‘He said it made sense not to wait and I agreed.’ But she’d been swept along by his love and enthusiasm. She remembered feeling overwhelmed by it all.
‘He likes to get what he wants, doesn’t he?’ Anne said. ‘And usually gets it. If he is really responsible for everything that is going on, it shows a very single-minded determination, a level of cruelty that is unforgiveable.’ Hr grip on Diane’s arm tightened. ‘You haven’t thought this all the way through, have you?’
Confusion flickered across Diane’s face. ‘I’m not sure what you mean?’ She looked at the hand on her arm then back to the other woman’s face. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know what she meant.
‘Well, if it’s really custody of Emma he’s after, and if he’s determined to get it, then there’s only one way to make absolutely sure…’
Diane gasped. No, she hadn’t thought it all the way through. Despite everything, it had never crossed her mind but now, of course, the blinding clarity of it seared her.
‘If I’m dead,’ she whispered.
Twenty-Six
It made such perfect sense she couldn’t believe she hadn’t seen it for herself. But, of course, that was what he’d wanted, wasn’t it? To keep her troubled and confused so she couldn’t see what was going on. With her out of the way, Paul would have Emma and the house, no maintenance to pay to her, no worries she’d recover and fight for shared custody.
Paul, the man she loved. She shook her head, desperate not to believe he was capable of such a thing. ‘I can’t see it, Anne, he’s not a violent man.’
Anne shrugged. ‘If what you’ve told me is true, he doesn’t need to be. He’s using psychological warfare; he’s hoping you’ll do the job for him. If he succeeds completely, he has won; but if he succeeds even a little, he’s still won. He’ll have you sectioned, and then declared incompetent to have custody.’
Diane sat back in her chair, lifting her chin and straightening her spine. ‘If he thought I’d take my own life, he doesn’t know me at all; even at my lowest, the thought never crossed my mind. And if he’s trying to push me over the edge, he won’t succeed. I saw it recently, Anne, I looked over, but I didn’t fall. If I didn’t then, when everything was spinning around me, I am certain I won’t now that I know what he is up to.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘I’ve made a start,’ she said, her voice grim, ‘I’ve told you. If anything happens to me now, someone knows what’s going on.’ She rubbed her face with both hands and then dropped them onto the table. ‘I want to go and see Red. The sooner I get all the facts, the safer I will be. I can’t believe she knows what he’s up to. Or am I being totally gullible?’
Anne shook her head. ‘I’ve known Red for almost five years. I would have sworn she was completely honest and straight up. Mind you,’ she shrugged, ‘I’d never have believed she would go into a relationship with a married man. I always thought she was a bit,’ she hesitated, seeking for the right word and then shrugged, ‘uptight, for want of a better word.’
‘There’s only one way to find out,’ Diane said. ‘I need to speak to her.’ She pressed her lips together. ‘Finding out exactly what is going on has taken on a whole new urgency, Anne. I can’t afford to wait. For me, and for Emma.’ Lowering her eyes, she looked at the woman opposite through her lashes. ‘I have a problem, though. I can’t take Emma with me, and there’s no-one to look after her. I was wondering – hoping, even – that you’d be able to take her for a few hours?’
For a moment, Anne looked a little taken aback, and then, slowly, she nodded. ‘I don’t have any experience with kids, but I suppose I could manage a few hours. And I agree, the sooner you get some proof of what he’s up to, the better. For your own piece of mind, at the very least.’
Relief washed over her; she felt a little lighter now that she’d shared her turmoil with someone. It all seemed so simple having spoken to Anne. She played with her rings, twisting them around her fingers, the diamonds sparkling. She remembered Paul going down
on one knee, the ring in his hand. A million years ago.
‘You’ll get through this,’ Anne said softly. ‘And I’ll be here for you. Okay?’
For a moment, Diane felt anchored for the first time in weeks. ‘Thank you,’ she said, gratefully. ‘That means so much. I’ve felt so alone in all this.’
‘Well, you’re not alone any more,’ Anne said, emphasising every word. ‘Together, we’ll make sure this goes no further.’
Together; it was a comforting word. ‘I’d better go,’ Diane said, ‘being late to collect Emma is definitely not an option.’ Taking her jacket from the back of the chair, she slipped it on. ‘So, it’s okay if I bring her to you straight after nursery. I’ll stop and pick up a sandwich or something for her lunch—’
‘No,’ Anne interrupted, ‘I think I’ll manage a sandwich for her. We can have a tea-party.’
Diane smiled. ‘She’d like that and afterwards she’ll just want to curl up and sleep for an hour or so. And when she wakes, she’ll happily watch TV.’
She waited while Anne put on various layers of clothing, wrapping and draping cardigans and scarves and, finally, adding a hat that sat crookedly on top of her mop of hair, they walked out together. Reaching into her bag, she took out pen and paper. ‘Okay, what’s your address?’
‘Turret House, Parkside Gardens,’ Anne said, and then added the postcode.
Diane wrote it down, double-checking the postcode. ‘I should be with you by one thirty at the latest.’ Arrangements set, she reached for the handle of the car door. ‘Okay, see you later. Thanks again.’
Suddenly, Anne threw her arms around her and pulled her into an unexpected hug. Diane tensed at first; it had been so long since she’d felt the full force of female friendship, but then she relaxed into it, taking comfort from it.
With a final wave goodbye, she headed off to the nursery, pulling into the car park with ten minutes to spare, long enough for Anne’s words to finally sink in. Did she really think Paul would go that far? She sighed heavily. Unbelievable as it was, it did make a warped kind of sense.
The nursery doors opened at five to one, signalling to her and the other early birds to get out and migrate in that direction. She’d got into the habit of keeping her eyes focused on the door, ignoring the other parents. Rose Metcalf was friendly with many of the others; Diane guessed her own reputation was pretty muddy.
Back in the car, she checked across the road for the woman. She wasn’t there but, rather than relief, her absence put Diane more on edge. Fastening Emma’s straps, she said, ‘I’m taking you to stay with a nice lady for a few hours while I go to a meeting.’
‘Milly?’ Emma’s eyes brightened.
Diane smiled at her. ‘I’m afraid not, but a lady just as nice.’
‘Are we going to do painting?’ she asked hopefully. ‘I like painting.’
It was unlikely. ‘No, I don’t think so. But she’ll let you watch TV, is that okay?’
Emma shrugged her little shoulders. ‘Okay, Mummy.’
Diane put Anne’s postcode into her satnav and, twenty minutes later, pulled up outside a large house on a pretty leafy street, her eyes widening in admiration. Nice area, nice house. She guessed Anne hadn’t lied when she said she was a successful writer. Wide gates stood open, she pulled in and turned off the engine.
Close up, the house was enormous, a turret to one side giving the house its name. It was quirky, just like its owner.
Opening the car door, she undid Emma’s straps. ‘I’ll be back in a couple of hours,’ she said to the little girl who jumped down and, immediately grabbed her hand, a look of uncertainty on her face as she looked up at the house. Diane bit her lip. It had been easier leaving her with a stranger in her own home. This was different. She was being unfair to her, taking her to a strange place to stay with someone she didn’t know, but this was something she had to do.
She’d make it up to her, maybe organise a painting afternoon the way Milly had done it. There was sure to be a worn sheet in the airing cupboard that she could sacrifice for a good cause. With that in mind, she squeezed Emma’s hand and pressed the doorbell.
It was another minute before she saw a shadow appear behind the glass of the door and then came the distinct sound of keys rattling in the lock and the door was pulled open.
‘So sorry,’ Anne said, standing back and waving them in. ‘I was getting an idea down, if I’d left it, it would have floated away, and I’d have spent the rest of the day fruitlessly trying to remember it.’ She waited until they were inside a large hallway and closed the door. ‘Come on in,’ she said, leading the way past a dramatic curving stairway.
Diane looked around in pleasure when Anne brought them into a large bright room where the emphasis seemed to be on comfort. Skylights and floor-to-ceiling glass across the back made it, even on a grey day, full of light.
‘This is lovely,’ she said. ‘What a great place to work,’ she added, seeing, the large desk at the far wall, a comfortable swivel chair behind it angled to face the small but lush garden.
Anne smiled, pleased with her reaction. ‘I had the garden designed last year. He managed to pack in an amazing array of plants and, when the sun shines, I can almost imagine I’m in the tropics.’ Her eyes dropped to the child who stood slightly behind Diane. ‘And you must be Emma,’ she said. ‘I bet you’re tired after school.’
Diane almost grinned at the note of hope in Anne’s voice. She supposed it was daunting looking after such a young child if you weren’t used to it. ‘Emma likes her nap. She usually just curls up on the sofa and I throw a rug over her.’ Her hand rested gently on her head as she spoke.
‘Well, I think I have just the spot,’ Anne said, crossing the room to an old, worn sofa. ‘This is where I take a nap when I’m exhausted,’ she said. She picked up a blanket that was thrown over the arm of the sofa. ‘And this is my cuddly blanket. You can borrow it if you like? But first we’re going to have a tea party.’ She waved towards the table where she had an array of food laid out.
Seeing the neatly cut triangular sandwiches, the little cakes, Diane was taken aback at her kindness. Emma looked up at Diane uncertainly before taking a step forward and taking Anne’s extended hand.
‘You can have your nap, afterwards,’ Diane said, ‘and when you wake up, Anne will let you watch TV, okay. And then I’ll be back to pick you up a little while later.’
‘Okay, Mummy,’ she said, dropping Anne’s hand and reaching up to grasp Diane around the neck in a hug.
She kissed her cheek and then the top of her head, and watched while Anne helped her into a chair and put a sandwich on a plate in front of her. ‘Back in a second, sweetheart,’ she said and followed Diane from the room.
‘What you told me this morning has been going around and around my head,’ Anne said, her voice sombre. ‘Are you sure you shouldn’t be going to the police?’
‘And tell them what?’
‘Just what you told me.’
Diane held her hands up. ‘When I have proof of some sort, maybe, but right now, they’d think I was crazy.’
‘You’ll get your proof today,’ Anne said firmly, ‘I just know you will.’
Her sympathy and understanding were almost too much for Diane, who felt the prickle of tears. She swallowed. ‘Thank you so much,’ she managed, her voice choking, ‘I don’t know what I’d do without you.’ Jumping into the car, she started the engine and gave Anne a wave before pulling out onto the road.
She hadn’t given much consideration to what she was going to say to Red when she saw her. Maybe she should just ask her straight out and take her by surprise? It was melodramatic, but she needed answers fast. When she arrived, she parked, switched off the engine and sat for a minute taking deep, calming breaths before opening the car door and stepping out.
The charity shop had two customers, both browsing the book shelves. Beth, behind the counter, looked up as the door opened, a flash of recognition crossing her plump face. Diane gave a quick
wave and then pointing to the back office, mouthed Red. Beth nodded and waved her on before turning her attention to one of the customers, who had approached the desk with a large pile of books that she dumped unceremoniously on the counter.
With a smile, Diane headed to the back of the shop. They were obviously behind with getting through the donated items; she could see several bags and boxes piled up through the partially open door. The other door, also partially open, was Red’s office. Deciding against knocking, she pushed the door open only to find Red had her back to the door, a phone pressed to her ear. She didn’t hear her enter and Diane, frustratingly, had no option but to wait until she’d finished her call and turned around to hang up the phone.
When she did, it was with a look of pleasant surprise rather than the shock she’d half expected. ‘Diane,’ she said, standing and coming around the desk with outstretched hands. ‘How good to see you!’ She grabbed her hand and shook it before indicating a chair. ‘Sit. I’m so glad you called.’ Returning to her chair, she gave Diane a warm, friendly smile and jerked her thumb toward a kettle that sat on a windowsill. ‘Can I get you some coffee or tea?’
She shook her head. This wasn’t going at all how she’d expected.
‘I felt so badly about what happened,’ Red said, slowly, her eyes fixed on Diane’s. ‘It was unforgiveable of me to jump to conclusions without giving you the chance to explain. You must have thought I was awful.’ She shook her head slowly. ‘I think I was just worried because I hadn’t got around to checking your references.’
Now was her chance. ‘Was that because you had a personal recommendation from my husband?’ Red was still leaning forward, her face so close that Diane imagined she could feel the warmth of her breath. She waited for her face to change, to see a shiftiness in her eyes, a narrowing of her painted lips, maybe even a quickening of her breath. But there was nothing except a slight furrowing of her brow.
‘I don’t understand what you mean.’
The Housewife: A completely addictive and gripping psychological thriller Page 16