The Housewife: A completely addictive and gripping psychological thriller

by Valerie Keogh

  Over her dead body.

  Picking up her shoes, she headed back downstairs, eased the hall table drawer open and took out his car keys. Leaving the drawer open, she moved to the front door. Hopefully, Paul wouldn’t have locked it yet. It was usually the last thing he did. She turned the catch and pulled, relieved when the door opened smoothly. Slipping on her shoes, she stepped out, pulling the door closed behind her. It made a soft clunk that she hoped would be lost in other sounds and went to his car, opened the door and climbed in.

  Seconds later, she was pulling out onto the road. He wouldn’t know where she’d gone, never guessing she’d know where the teacher lived. She owed a debt of gratitude to Rose Metcalf for that nugget of information. Around the corner from her, next to an ugly church.

  It should be easy to find.

  And it was. The road was a short one of only about twenty houses. It was a cul-de-sac, ending in a plain, dull building, the only indicator that it was a church being the huge and imposing sign that said so. Rose had been correct; it was quite unattractive.

  Unfortunately, there was a house on either side of the road. It was a toss-up. Going to the closest one, she rang the doorbell. Moments later, a light switched on and she could hear the sound of a lock being turned. The door was opened widely as if she were expected, the elderly woman with her hand on the door smiling a welcome, unfocused eyes staring at her.

  ‘Sally,’ a voice called from further within the house, and footsteps came rushing forward. A man, probably a few years older than the woman, with grey hair and sad eyes, took her hand from the door and gave her a gentle push. ‘Go and make me a cuppa,’ he said, his voice gentle.

  Once she’d gone, the man closed the door over slightly and asked, ‘Can I help you?’

  Diane smiled. ‘I’m looking for Emily Rogers.’

  He indicated the house across the street with a jerk of his chin. ‘Over there, love,’ he said.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry for disturbing you and your wife.’

  He shook his head. ‘Sally thinks every knock on the door is our Tom coming home.’

  Diane was about to reply that she hoped that their son would be home soon, but quickly stopped herself when she saw in his sad eyes that that wasn’t going to happen. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said again and stepped away.

  Crossing over the road, she walked up the neatly kept driveway. There was a knocker, but no doorbell. She rapped it smartly three times and stood back.

  It was answered by a tall, handsome smiling man. ‘Hello, can I help you? he asked with a pronounced Scottish burr.

  ‘Oh, hi,’ she said, taken aback. Who was he? ‘I was looking for an Emily Rogers, perhaps this isn’t the right house.’ She looked down the road toward the next house. Maybe she hadn’t meant right next door.

  ‘No,’ the smile was friendly, ‘you’ve the right place. Come in, I’ll tell her you’re here.’

  She stepped inside just as a door opened behind him and Miss Rogers came out, a look of surprise tinged with concern on her face when she saw her.

  ‘This lady wants to see you,’ the man said, turning toward her, a puzzled look on his face when he saw her expression. ‘Is everything okay?’ His eyes flicked from one to the other.

  ‘It’s fine, darling,’ Emily said, placing a reassuring hand on his chest, looking at him with a look that told Diane, as clearly as if it were written in stone, she’d got it wrong, this woman wasn’t having an affair with anybody. ‘Head on in, I’ll just have a word with her.’

  He put his hand over hers, before nodding. ‘Shout if you need me,’ he said, with a final glance at Diane.

  Emily waited until he’d closed the door behind him before saying, ‘Sorry, he’s very protective of me.’

  ‘He’s your partner?’

  The teacher smiled. ‘My husband, actually, it should be Mrs Rogers, but I was miss when I started, so…’ She shrugged and her smile faded. ‘Why don’t we sit down,’ she said, ‘and you can tell me why you’re here.’ She waited until Diane nodded before opening a door into a small room they obviously used as a home office. It would be a claustrophobic place to work, filing cabinets stood on either side of a battered wooden desk. The remaining available walls were lined with bookshelves. Emily took a pile of books from a chair and offered it to Diane, taking the swivel chair at the desk for herself. ‘You look calmer,’ she said quietly.

  ‘I managed to get a few hours’ sleep,’ Diane said with a quick smile, ‘it helped.’ She brushed her hair behind her ears. ‘When Paul came home without Emma, I was upset,’ she explained. ‘I wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight until I was sure she was okay.’

  Emily’s eyes were warm, her smile kind and reassuring. ‘She’s fine, honestly. My daughter, Ivy, is two, they got on like a house on fire. There’s a spare bed in Ivy’s room so she’s asleep in there.’

  ‘It was kind of you to help out.’

  ‘It isn’t the first time I’ve brought a child home. Emergencies occur. It isn’t a service the nursery advertises, but it’s one it is happy to provide. Ross and I have had all the required checks to allow us to accommodate a child in need.’ The teacher’s smile faded. ‘Actually, it was my idea, this time. Your husband wanted to take Emma home, but he was still so angry, I was worried for her.’ She didn’t add that she was also worried for her mother. She leaned forward and rested a gentle hand on Diane’s arm. ‘I thought if you two had a chance to talk, alone, you might be able to sort things out.’

  Diane gave a bitter, brittle laugh. ‘I’m afraid we’ve gone way past that.’ She sighed heavily. ‘I know you all thought I was crazy today when I told you I was being stalked.’ She took her phone from her pocket. ‘This is her,’ she said, bringing up the picture and holding the phone out.

  ‘It’s just—’

  ‘Yes, I know,’ she interrupted, frustrated, ‘it’s just a picture of a woman. But I see her outside my house, outside the school, in the supermarket. And, every time, she’s staring at me. I’m not imagining it.’

  Emily shrugged, looking a little out of her depth. ‘I don’t know what to think,’ she said. She indicated the computer on the desk. ‘Send it to me, let’s blow it up and see what she’s like in detail.’

  A few minutes later, they both stared at the photograph of the woman on the twenty-one-inch computer screen. ‘See,’ Diane said, pointing, ‘it was taken from my bedroom window. That’s our front railing, that’s the Prescott’s house behind her.

  Emily pressed a key to zoom in on the woman’s face. ‘She’s pretty average,’ she said, peering closely. ‘Attractive, but not enough so you’d remember her face.’

  Diane nodded in agreement. She was just about to move away when she stopped, eyes widening. ‘Can you zoom in closer?’ she asked, pointing to the screen. ‘This part?’

  Nodding, Emily tapped a few keys and the section appeared large on the screen.

  ‘I don’t believe it,’ Diane said in a faint voice.

  Emily stared at the screen. ‘Nice earrings,’ she said.

  ‘They’re nice all right. Three grand’s-worth of diamonds and emeralds, according to the receipt I found in Paul’s office.’

  Forty-Two

  Diane sat back on her chair with a look of disbelief on her face. ‘I suspected Paul was having an affair but it never entered my head that he’d use his…’ she hesitated, looking for an appropriate word, ‘…mistress in his sordid little game.’ She gave a quick humourless chuckle at the expression on the teacher’s face as she desperately tried to make sense of it all.

  ‘Sordid little game?’ Emily asked, bewildered.

  ‘I think Paul is trying to discredit me so he can get full custody of Emma when we divorce.’

  Emily thought a moment and then her eyes narrowed. ‘Ah,’ she said, ‘that makes sense.’

  It was Diane’s turn to look puzzled. It wasn’t the reaction she was expecting. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Would you like a coffee or tea or som
ething?’ Emily said. ‘I think I need a drink.’ She stood, waiting for a reply.

  A glass of wine would have been perfect, but Diane wasn’t going to dull senses that had finally sharpened. ‘Coffee would be great,’ she said, ‘milk, no sugar.’ She was suddenly ravenous. ‘And something to eat, if you have it,’ she shrugged. ‘I haven’t eaten all day.’

  Emily grinned. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’

  Several minutes passed before she returned. Diane sat thinking about what she’d learned, shaking her head again at her blindness. Just when she’d thought he couldn’t stoop any lower, he had reached new depths.

  The door opened to reveal Emily carrying an overflowing tray. ‘Just shove that pile of papers onto the floor,’ she said, using her chin to indicate the pile that sat next to the computer and, when it was cleared, set the tray down.

  A pot of coffee, a plate of sandwiches, a plate of cake and a glass of wine. Diane looked at it all and was suddenly starving. ‘This is great,’ she said, ‘thank you.’ She reached for a sandwich and wolfed it down in three bites while Emily poured coffee for them both.

  Emily, watching her eat, waited until she was on her third sandwich before she explained. ‘When I offered to look after Emma for a day or two, your husband said something that made no sense at the time. I can’t remember his exact words,’ she said, frowning, ‘something about making his case stronger. I assumed he was referring to trying to persuade you to go for counselling but his tone was off.’

  The silence was only broken by the sound of Emily’s mug as she put it back on the tray and picked up her glass. ‘He’s a bit of a prick, your husband, isn’t he?’

  Diane’s laugh was genuine amusement. It wasn’t the kind of thing she expected to hear from the teacher’s mouth. But she’d hit the nail firmly on the head. ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘he is that all right.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’ Emily looked at her. ‘If you don’t mind me saying so, you looked a bit of a mess earlier, lost and hopeless but, now, you look better, stronger.’

  Diane nodded. ‘Strong enough to put an end to his games. I showed him the photo earlier and he denied any knowledge of her. I’m going to go home and confront him again.’ She smiled slightly when she saw the concern on the teacher’s face. ‘Don’t worry, I’m ready for him this time.’

  Emily didn’t look convinced. ‘He’s a big man, and he has a nasty temper. Are you sure you shouldn’t just go to the police?’

  Diane sighed, and reached for another sandwich. ‘I’ve not made myself the most believable of witnesses, and I’ve no proof of any wrongdoing. I don’t think going to the police is an option. Unfortunately, adultery isn’t a crime.’

  ‘Would you like me to come with you? Or, even better,’ she added, ‘I’ll send Ross with you.’

  Diane was touched by her kindness. ‘You’ve been so kind to me, I’m sure I don’t deserve it.’ She hesitated and then rushed on, ‘Actually, I didn’t think you liked me.’

  Emily looked taken aback. ‘What gave you that idea?’

  Maybe she’d got it wrong. It seemed to be her forte, after all. ‘You pulled me up for leaving Emma crying in the car,’ she said.

  A puzzled look crossed the teacher’s face. ‘I honestly can’t remember,’ she said, ‘but that happens all the time, so I think I can be forgiven. Mrs Power’s office faces the car park and she doesn’t like disruptions.’ She gave a tight smile. ‘She doesn’t have children, you know, everything she knows she’s learned from books. Sometimes theory is just that.’

  Diane felt foolish. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, wondering how many times she’d said that today. Putting her mug down, she stood up. ‘I should go. Thank you for your offer, but I think I’ll be okay.’

  ‘Do me a favour then,’ the teacher said and, reaching behind her for a pen and a scrap of paper, she scribbled down a number. ‘Text me, let me know you’re okay. If you don’t, I’ll ring the police.’

  Taking the number, Diane folded it and put it in her jeans pocket. ‘Thank you,’ she said, ‘I won’t forget.’

  Emily stood. ‘You’ll want to see Emma before you go.’ She led the way from the room and up the stairs. The landing light had been left on. She stopped outside a half-open door and nodded for Diane to look inside. ‘She’s wearing a nightie of Ivy’s, it’s a little tight but she didn’t complain. She’s a very sweet child,’ she said quietly.

  Diane felt the lump in her throat that had been there since Paul had come home without Emma melt away. She was safe and well. Miss Rogers could be trusted to make sure she stayed that way. Reaching down, she brushed a curl gently back from Emma’s forehead. Then she straightened and joined Emily on the landing.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, ‘seeing her safe makes me more determined than ever to stop Paul.'

  ‘I’ll be waiting to hear from you,’ Emily reminded her. Stepping closer, she enveloped her in a quick hug. ‘Stay strong,’ she said, ‘and remember you’re not alone.’

  Forty-Three

  Diane was surprised at how empowered those simple words made her feel. As she pulled into her driveway, she looked up at the house. She’d come here for the first time all wrapped in love, full of happiness at the prospect of spending the rest of her life with the man she adored. It seemed like only yesterday; but it was a lifetime ago.

  The night was chilly, the skies clear; looking up, she could see the plough clearly. It was the only constellation she could recognise and she’d pointed it out to Paul on one of their first dates. ‘See the curve at the bottom of it,’ she’d said, ‘you can hang your dreams on that. It helps them come true.’

  He’d laughed, she remembered, and wanted to know who’d told her such nonsense. She should have known then they weren’t suited. Looking up at the plough now, she hung her dreams on the curve of the stars before turning to open the front door.

  He appeared immediately, standing in the open doorway to the family room, his arms crossed, mouth a narrow slash. ‘Where the hell have you been?’

  She heard the contained anger in his voice and closed the door slowly behind her without answering.

  ‘I asked you a question.’

  The anger in his voice sizzled. Perhaps she should have been scared; he was taller, bigger, stronger than she. But he was real; flesh and blood, not her imagination and, as long as she could touch it and feel it, she could deal with it. Reality no longer had any power to frighten her. He covered the distance between them with long, quick steps and snapped the keys roughly from her hands.

  ‘I went to check that Emma was all right.’

  ‘I don’t believe you,’ he sneered, refusing to back away. ‘You don’t know where her teacher lives.’

  She was so close to him, she could smell garlic on his breath. ‘I know a lot more than you think,’ she said, ‘including where Emily Rogers lives.’

  That took the wind out of his sails; he turned and moved away. She followed, a grim expression on her face. ‘I know everything, Paul. I’m not sure if you were trying to drive me crazy or just make me believe I was. It doesn’t really matter; either way, you’ve failed. I know exactly what’s going on now.’

  He walked across the floor before turning to glare at her. ‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.’

  Her laugh was bitter. ‘And no idea who the woman on my phone is either? The woman wearing the earrings you splashed out so much money on.’ She saw the look of surprise that crossed his face before he could hide it. ‘You see, Paul,’ she said, stepping closer to him, watching as his eyes darted from side to side as if looking for an escape, ‘I know all about it.’ She reached out and jabbed him hard in the chest with every word. ‘All about your rotten plan to get custody of Emma.’

  He grabbed her hand and held it tightly before pushing it and her away.

  She staggered backward, wincing as she twisted her damaged ankle. ‘Stop lying, Paul,’ she shouted at him, clawing her hands into fists and shaking them at him. All the weeks of pain and gri
ef he’d caused her. ‘It’s over,’ she shouted louder, ‘it’s all—’

  ‘I didn’t know,’ he yelled, stopping her in her tracks, her mouth hanging open. ‘I didn’t bloody well know about any of it, okay?’ He shook his head, turned away and then turned back holding a hand out to her, eyes narrowing as she backed away. ‘I swear to you,’ he said quietly, ‘I didn’t know.’

  ‘I don’t believe you,’ she said, watching as he went to the sofa and sat heavily, dropping his face into his hands. ‘You know the woman who’s been following me, the damn earrings you bought are a giveaway.’

  ‘I didn’t know,’ he mumbled into his hands.

  I didn’t know. Not, I don’t know her. Diane sat on the coffee table, her knees almost brushing his. ‘But you do know her?’

  He sighed heavily. ‘Pam. Her name is Pam.’ He lifted his face, his eyes dull. ‘I didn’t know what she was doing. I swear,’ he added when he saw her look of disbelief. ‘Not until I saw the photograph on your phone today. I rang her.’ He shrugged. ‘She meant well.’

  ‘She meant well,’ Diane’s voice went up several octaves. ‘Are you serious?’

  ‘She knows how much I love Emma,’ he said quietly.

  She couldn’t sit still. Standing, she glared down at him. ‘Are you saying all of this was her idea?’ She watched, appalled, as he nodded, and took a few steps back shaking her head in disbelief. ‘It was her idea to try to drive me crazy so you’d get custody of Emma?’ She didn’t believe him; he was just trying to confuse her. ‘No, I don’t believe you.’ She had to concentrate, remember the proof she had. The papers! ‘You want to have me sectioned,’ she yelled at him. ‘I saw the damn papers in a drawer in your desk. I could go and get them now…proof!’