The Millionaire's Wife

by Shalini Boland

  ‘What kind of plans?’ Will asks.

  ‘Dangerous ones,’ I reply.

  ‘Anna. Just tell me.’

  ‘He . . .’ I inhale deeply and stare up at the ceiling, tapping at my cheek with my forefinger. ‘Before I tell you this, I need you to know that I did not go along with his plan. And when he told me about it, I finished with him immediately. And I never saw him after that. I honestly thought that was the end of it.’

  ‘You’re scaring me, Anna. Did he have something to do with poisoning Bo?’

  ‘Yes.’ I put my fists up to my face, pressing them against my mouth, trying desperately not to cry. I need to finish telling him the rest without losing it.

  ‘Oh my God.’ Will rises to his feet and holds his hands up, his fingers splayed. ‘Oh my God. Your ex-boyfriend killed our dog? Why? Why would he do that? This is mad. We need to call the police. Now.’ He glances around, presumably for his phone.

  ‘Wait,’ I say. ‘It’s worse than that. There’s more. Please, sit down.’

  He shakes his head. ‘I can’t sit down. Just tell me the rest.’

  ‘Please, Will. Sit down. I can’t talk to you while you’re–’

  ‘Fine,’ he snaps, sitting back on the sofa. Then his face softens. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean–’

  ‘It’s okay.’ I take a breath. ‘Fin had this crazy idea. When we were together, he wanted us to split up temporarily. He wanted us to find wealthy partners to marry.’

  Will presses his lips together and frowns.

  ‘At first, I thought he wanted us to marry them, divorce them and keep half the money – which, by the way, I would never have done. But, God, it was so much worse than that. He wanted us to marry them and then arrange for our partners to have an “accident”.’ As I try to explain, sweat forms on my upper lip, on my scalp, under my armpits.

  ‘Murder,’ Will says, shaking his head.

  I nod.

  ‘You’re supposed to murder me?’

  ‘No! I told you, I never agreed to his plan. I finished with him the minute I knew he was serious, long before I even met you.’

  ‘But you married me. And I’m . . . rich.’ He gives a bitter laugh.

  ‘Oh, God, Will. This isn’t coming out the way I wanted it to.’ Now it’s my turn to get to my feet. My brain is racing, and I can’t think of the right words to explain what’s going on. I walk towards the fireplace and then back again.

  ‘Sit down, Anna, and tell me the rest.’ His voice is hard. Harsh, even. But I can’t blame him. This is a lot for him to take in. A shock.

  I do as he asks and sit on the edge of the sofa, my fingers knotted together. I try to get my thoughts in order so I can explain the rest. ‘When I left Fin, I put him out of my mind. We never had any contact and I never took any of his ideas seriously. Not for a moment. We broke up over a year before I even met you.’

  ‘At the tennis club,’ Will says. ‘We met at the club.’

  ‘Yes. I was living with Sian at the time. I was miserable, depressed.’

  ‘Because of Fin? You missed him?’

  ‘No. I was glad to be away from him. I was depressed because I had nothing in my life. No qualifications, no proper career, no relationship. Sian made me join the tennis club to try to cheer me up.’

  Will’s eyes narrow and he shakes his head.

  ‘What?’ I say. ‘Don’t you believe me?’

  ‘I never thought of you as a gold digger,’ he says.

  Those two words wound me. They slice at my heart.

  He continues, ‘I purposely never tell people I’m wealthy to avoid them treating me differently. But maybe you’d already done your homework.’

  ‘Will! No! I promise you!’ A hard lump has formed in my throat. My whole life is disintegrating around me like ash.

  ‘It’s too convenient, Anna. You’re telling me about Fin’s plan and saying you never went along with it, but then you just so happen to bump into a multi-millionaire at the tennis club. And look at you – you’re movie-star beautiful, and I’m not exactly Leonardo Di Caprio.’

  ‘I never knew you were rich. I fell for you, Will. I love you. You know that.’

  ‘I only know what you chose to tell me. Is Sian in on the plan, too?’

  ‘Sian?’ I blink and try to refocus. ‘What! There is no plan – not as far as I’m concerned! Please, Will. I love you. I adore you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.’

  ‘And Bo?’ He shakes his head rapidly as though trying to rid himself of something. ‘What happened to our sweet puppy? Fin poisoned him? Or was it you?’

  I jerk back as though punched. ‘God! Will! No! I would never . . . I loved Bo. I don’t know how you can ask me that.’

  ‘You’re my wife and I don’t even know you.’ His voice breaks, but then he sniffs and sets his face into a hard mask.

  ‘You do know me.’ I say, trying to catch his eye, trying to make him see I’m telling the truth. ‘I am exactly who I’ve always been, Will.’

  ‘That’s what scares me,’ he says. Then he takes a breath and lowers his voice to almost a whisper. ‘You scare me, Anna. The things you’re saying . . .’

  ‘I know. I know.’ I press my palms together and bring them up to my face in mock prayer, my thumb pads under my chin. ‘It’s a massive shock. Look. Whatever else you believe, please believe me when I tell you you’re in danger. Fin is completely deranged. He’s killed his wife and now he wants to kill you.’

  ‘He’s killed his wife?’ Will rubs at his mouth with the flat of his hand. ‘He’s actually killed her? Oh my God, this just keeps getting better and better.’

  ‘He . . .’ I stammer out the words. ‘He made it look like an accident while they were on holiday.’

  ‘So, you’re in contact with this psycho? He keeps you informed of his progress?’

  ‘No!’ I cry, willing him to see into my heart. To realise that I would never conspire against him. ‘Fin sent me a text last month, and that was the first I’d heard from him since we split up. He sent me a picture of his dead wife. It was sick. He told me it was my turn next, that I had to kill you and that if I didn’t do it, then he would. I think he killed Bo as a warning to me. As a threat.’

  ‘Fuck!’

  Will never swears. I clutch at his arms, trying to get him to look at me, but he shakes me off, lurches abruptly to his feet and strides across the lounge and out into the hall.

  ‘Will! Where are you going?’ I get up to follow him, but he’s out the front door too fast, slamming it behind him. I wrench it open. ‘Will!’ I call. ‘It’s not safe!’ But he’s already in his Merc. The gates are swinging open and he drives away, foot hard on the throttle.

  I stand in the doorway, my heart hammering, my body shaking.

  What now? What should I do? My bag sits on the hall table, I fumble inside for my phone, pull it out and clumsily call his number. But his ringtone sounds from the kitchen. Damn.

  I grab my car keys from the hall table, slip on a pair of trainers, set the alarm and step outside, pulling the front door closed behind me. It seems like weeks since Will and I were in my Land Rover bringing Bo’s body back from the vet’s. I can’t believe it was only a couple of hours ago. I climb into the driver’s seat and screech out of the driveway, turning right, hoping to catch a glimpse of tail lights, but the road is empty. I drive to the end of our road and bring the car to a stop, glancing left and right, head spinning. I’m panting as though I’ve run a marathon. Where could he have gone?

  Is this it? Are we over? What do I do now?

  Chapter Twenty

  I remember a night, years ago, waiting for another man to come back to me after an argument. But this is so different. I love Will with every part of my being. He’s kind, funny, gentle. I would trust him with my life. And I went and shattered that trust this evening. As soon as I received that first text, I should have told my husband. We could have worked it out together.

  From my car, I call Sian, call Remy, call h
is dad, asking if Will is with them, saying he’s left his phone at home, trying to keep my voice light so they don’t realise anything is amiss. But no one has seen him.

  I search all our usual haunts – the bars and the restaurants – not really believing he’ll be in any of them. I even scour our local beach in the dark. But he doesn’t seem to be anywhere. I drive home, hoping he’ll be there, waiting, willing to forgive my secrecy, to believe I’ve always loved him. But the house is empty so I scribble him a note and leave it by his phone, telling him to call me as soon as he gets in.

  I drive around some more, cruising the quiet streets of Westbourne, the beach roads and chines. But I don’t see him anywhere. Now I’m parked up on the clifftop, my phone in my hand, willing him to call me. He can’t stay away forever. He’ll have to come home eventually. Did he not hear me say that he’s in danger? Fin is out there somewhere with evil intentions. Will isn’t safe. Not at all.

  And then it hits me. I think I might know where Will has gone.

  I tap the location into my GPS and follow the disembodied woman’s voice to where I hope my husband will be. I barely pay attention to the road, my mind awash with guilt and fear. Wishing I could turn back the clock. My route takes me through Canford Cliffs village, down the hill towards the harbour, and then up along Shore Road and into Sandbanks Road. The streetlights reflect off the water and off the wet tarmac of deserted pavements. I make a right into Elgin Road and drive a short way along the residential street until I see it – Will’s Mercedes, parked up on the left by a neatly clipped hedge.

  I pull over at an untidy angle behind his car and unclench my fists from the steering wheel. Sadness slows my racing pulse. I was right. Will has come to the cemetery. To see his mum.

  As I get out of the car, the wind hits me, making my eyes water. I turn left onto the pathway that leads to the graves. There are no locked gates to climb over, but there are also no lights. The way is dark and silent apart from the gusting wind, the rustling leaves, and my sneakered footsteps on the concrete path. I know where Helen Blackwell’s grave is – we visit her quite often. She was one of the last people to be buried here before the cemetery was deemed full.

  Will used to come here a lot before he met me. He said whenever he had a problem or felt low, it always helped to talk things through with her. I guess sometimes it’s easier to talk to a dead person than a living one. Now he says he has me to talk to, and although he still comes here, it’s more to do with memories and comfort, than with sadness.

  The cemetery pathway is laid out like a back-to-front letter D with a cross in the middle. I need to turn left into the cross to reach her grave. Pitch black, the moon obscured by clouds, I can barely see a thing. But I’m too worried about Will to be spooked by my gothic surroundings.

  Will first brought me to his mother’s grave after asking me to marry him. I remember trying not to cry as he chatted away to her, telling her how he wished she could have met me. I wonder if he still feels that way now. I rub at my platinum wedding band with the pad of my thumb, thinking back to the day when Will slid it onto my finger with so much love in his eyes. Will he ever look at me like that again?

  I stop. A light over to my left illuminates one of the gravestones. Then it shifts, blinding me. I raise my arm to shield my eyes. The light wavers, getting brighter. It must be Will with a torch. But what if it’s not? I hope to God it’s not some nutter. Not Fin. I take a step backwards. And another. I want to run, but I don’t. Instead, I call out in a wavering voice:

  ‘Will?’

  ‘Anna?’

  It is Will. I exhale and walk towards the light.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ His voice is harsh, accusatory. He lowers his torch and I’m able to see his face, pale and taut.

  ‘Will, thank God I found you.’ The words tumble out. ‘I was so worried. I’ve been looking everywhere. I came to sort things out.’

  He doesn’t speak.

  ‘Will. I love you. I don’t care about your money. You can write me out of your will if you want. Leave everything to charity. I don’t care. Please. You have to believe me.’ My voice is trembling, breaking. Tears spill down my cheeks. ‘Fin’s unhinged, mad. His plans are nothing to do with me. I’m scared, Will. He wants to kill you. We should go to the police.’

  I realise the only way to truly convince Will of my feelings is to show him I have nothing to hide. If I go to the authorities, tell them everything, then surely he’ll know I’m not in league with Fin. ‘We can go to the police station now if you like.’ I want to keep talking, to explain further, to make him believe me. But I force myself to stop, waiting to see if he’s forgiven me at all.

  Will’s torch points downwards, illuminating a circle of wet grass. For a while, there’s silence. Even the wind seems to have paused for a moment. And then Will finally speaks, his voice soft. ‘A few days after you and I first met, I came here to see my mum. I told her I wanted to marry you. I told her I wanted to propose to you straightaway. Because I knew you were the one.’ He pauses. I’m not sure if he’s waiting for me to reply. I open my mouth to speak, but before I can say anything, he continues: ‘I wanted to marry you but I got the sense that Mum wanted me to wait a while. That it probably wasn’t wise to marry someone I’d only just met. So I heeded her advice from the grave and I waited a few months. It was probably more to do with the fact that I didn’t want to scare you off by proposing too soon.’

  ‘I felt the same way,’ I say. ‘I remember telling Sian that you were “the one”. My soulmate.’

  Will ignores my interruption and continues: ‘From the day I met you, right up until tonight, I have never had any doubts about us, Anna. I’ve been the happiest I’ve ever been in my life. So, when you told me all that stuff tonight about Fin wanting you to marry someone for money, it made me feel like the past few years have been a lie. Like my happiness was an illusion you created for me. Like everything from now on will be dark and sad. Like, you may as well kill me and take my money because without you nothing is worth anything. But do you even exist? Are you real, Anna? Are you my Anna, or are you Fin’s?’

  ‘Of course I’m yours, Will. I’m here. I’m no one else’s.’ I take his hand and bring it to my tear-streaked face. ‘I promise I will do anything to prove it to you. And I’m so, so sorry I didn’t tell you what was going on sooner. I just . . . I didn’t know how.’

  ‘You swear it,’ he says. ‘You swear you’re telling me the truth. Because–’

  ‘I swear it, on my life. Will, you mean everything to me. You always have and you always will.’

  ‘No more secrets, Anna.’ He takes his hand away from mine. ‘If there’s something troubling you, you have to trust me.’

  My heart lurches at his words. At the secret I have yet to tell him. But now is not the time. Now the most important thing is to keep my husband safe. ‘I’m sorry,’ I say, the words sounding inadequate, defensive. ‘I was scared, that’s all. I thought if you knew about Fin’s insane plan you’d think I had something to do with it.’

  He rubs the bridge of his nose with his forefinger. ‘I think if you were going to bump me off you would have just done it. You wouldn’t have told me about it.’

  ‘Just thinking about it makes me ill. I would never hurt you, Will. You have to believe me. But we need to get out of here.’ I take his hand again. ‘It’s not safe. I meant what I said about going to the police, Will. I’ll go now and tell them about Fin. He can’t get away with killing an innocent woman. He’s dangerous. I’m scared for you. For us.’

  ‘Let’s go home first,’ Will says, as we walk back towards the main path.

  ‘But what about Fin? He might be–’

  ‘We’ll be fine at home for now. I can take care of myself. I can take care of both of us.’

  ‘But you don’t know him. He’s not right in the head.’

  ‘At this precise moment, I don’t exactly feel right in the head either.’ He’s walking so fast that I have to almost jog to kee
p up.

  I bite my lip and then reply. ‘He’s already killed once.’

  ‘Yes, and the bastard killed our dog. Look, Anna, if we go to the police and you tell them what you just told me, they might not believe you’re innocent. Hell, I’m your husband, I love you and even I wasn’t sure you were telling me the truth. What do you think will happen when they arrest Fin? He’ll tell them you agreed to the plan. From the sounds of it, he already thinks you did agree to it. You could be arrested, too.’

  ‘But I didn’t do anything. He did.’

  ‘Even if they believe you and eventually let you go, it’ll be a bloody nightmare. His wife’s dead so it’ll be a murder investigation. Our lives will be torn apart, shredded. Think of what we’ll have to go through. What about my dad? I can’t put him through something like that. Think of the strain on all our lives. On our marriage.’

  ‘I know what you’re saying, but our lives are in danger while Fin’s still out there. I really think reporting it is our best option.’

  ‘No,’ Will says, suddenly coming to a halt and turning to face me. ‘No, I don’t want you to go to the police, Anna. Didn’t you hear what I said? What if they find you guilty?’

  ‘But I’m not guilty. Please, Will.’ But I know he’s right. Fin could easily twist the truth to implicate me. It would be my word against his, and that scenario never turns out well. It’s enough that my husband finally believes me.

  ‘No,’ Will says once more. ‘We’ll think of something else. There has to be another way to stop him.’

  Chapter Twenty One

  Back home, Will and I go from room to room together checking all the doors and windows are locked. We’ve checked downstairs, and now we’re making our way up to the bedrooms.

  ‘What if he’s already in the house?’ I whisper.