‘Not on a school night,’ I call back.
‘He’s welcome to stay,’ Darcy says. ‘I have spare toothbrushes, and he can borrow some of Tyler’s PJs.’
‘Please, Mum!’
‘Mum, he can stay, can’t he?’ Tyler yells.
‘That’s kind,’ I say to Darcy. ‘But he’ll be too tired tomorrow.’
‘Really?’ Darcy raises an eyebrow. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll make sure they get to bed by nine.’
I flinch inwardly. Joe’s bedtime is normally seven o’clock. He’ll be exhausted at school tomorrow if he stays over. Yet I don’t want to be a killjoy. I don’t want to be the uptight mum who’s too strict.
‘I’ll take them both to school tomorrow,’ she says. ‘It’ll be fine. They’ll have a great time.’
‘Well, if you’re sure,’ I say, wishing I could just say no.
‘Absolutely!’ Darcy replies. ‘Sleepover!’ she calls down to the boys, standing and punching her fist in the air. Joe and Tyler go crazy, jumping up and down and high-fiving each other.
Darcy turns and smiles at me. ‘I love seeing them so happy and excited.’
I smile back despite my concerns.
One late night can’t hurt.
Chapter Three
It’s quiet. Nothing apart from the hum of the fridge and the faint purr of traffic in the distance. I’ve just finished printing out Joe’s birthday-party invitations. After much debating and mind-changing on his part, we finally decided on a football party at the park, followed by a pizza picnic. He can take the invitations to school on Monday and hand them out to his new friends.
I suppose, with Joe not here and Jared still at work, I should take this opportunity to make a start on writing next week’s column, but I can’t settle. I keep thinking about Joe staying over at Tyler’s. About whether he’ll get enough sleep, or become homesick.
Instead, I begin half-heartedly tidying up the kitchen, loading up the dishwasher, and wiping down the surfaces. That loses its appeal pretty quickly so I plonk myself down at the kitchen table, pick up my phone and start surfing the net. After checking my emails and social media, I tap in a search for “Darcy Lane”. Her blog pops up on the front page of my search results, and my eyes widen. Called The House down the Lane, it’s more than just a blog. The glossy-looking website has interviews and insightful articles on trends and innovations in design. Well written, it actually makes my little newspaper column look a bit pathetic, and I squirm in embarrassment at how pleased I was by her apparent awe.
I hear the familiar click of the key in the front door and my heart gives a little lift. Jared’s home early.
The door to the kitchen opens and he breezes in, loosening his tie and dumping his bag on the floor by the table. I rise to my feet and we kiss.
‘Hey, Lou,’ he says, running a finger down my cheek. ‘I missed you today.’
‘Missed you, too,’ I say, giving him a hug.
‘Where’s the little man?’ he asks.
‘Having a sleepover at his new friend’s house.’
‘Really? Who’s that, then? Do we know them?’ Jared frowns and heads for the kettle. ‘Tea?’
‘I’ll make it.’ I start making tea and fill Jared in on Joe’s playdate, and on Darcy’s incredible house.
‘One day soon,’ Jared says, ‘we’ll live on the beach in one of those houses.’
‘I’d rather have an older house with character,’ I say. ‘Like the one we’ve already got.’
‘You can have whatever house you want if my new idea works out.’
My heart sinks. Every time Jared has an idea, it usually involves buying something we can’t afford. ‘What do you mean?’ I ask, sitting next to him and accidentally slopping some of my tea onto the table. I turn to get a cloth but Jared takes my arm and guides me back down into my seat.
‘Leave it,’ he says. ‘I want to talk to you about something important.’
I hope my mentioning Darcy’s swanky house isn’t the catalyst for this conversation.
‘I’ve had an idea,’ he says.
‘Since when?’ I ask, making patterns in the spilt tea with my finger.
‘I’ve been thinking about it for a while. You mentioning that place at Sandbanks makes me even more determined to do it. We should be living that lifestyle. We should have that great big house by the sea.’
Shit, I definitely should have kept my big mouth shut. I look up at my husband, his eyes glittering. ‘What’s this idea?’ I say, trying to inject some enthusiasm into my words.
‘Well . . .’ He suddenly looks boyish, just like Joe – his excitement spilling out. ‘You know how I work crazy long days . . .’ He takes a slurp of tea.
‘Yeah.’
‘And you know I love my job, right.’
I nod.
‘Okay, so at the moment I’m the creative director. I do all the work – get everyone motivated, organise the big picture. But all that creativity, all that work, I’m doing it for someone else. I’m lining someone else’s pockets.’
I now know where this conversation’s heading. My stomach lurches as he continues.
‘How about . . .’ He takes my hand and squeezes it. ‘How about if I set up my own ad agency?’
I’m not sure how to answer. I don’t want to dismiss his idea, but I really do think it would be a mistake to set up a new business at the moment. I hear the irregular drip, drip, drip of the kitchen tap. We must get that fixed.
‘What do you think?’ he prompts.
I have to be careful how I word my answer. He wants my approval. He wants me to confirm that his idea is amazing, when all I can think about is the fact we have this huge mortgage and a child at private school – a school Jared insisted we send Joe because he wasn’t doing so well at the state school where he was perfectly happy.
‘It sounds interesting,’ I say. ‘But wouldn’t it be a lot more work? We’d never see you.’
‘No, that’s where you’re wrong.’ Jared thumps the table and grins.’ Gary’s always off on some swanky holiday or another. He’s rolling in it. We’re all working our asses off so he can go on a hundred holidays a year. That could be us.’
‘His agency’s been going for years,’ I counter. ‘Surely, in the early days, he never had the time for holidays.’
‘Maybe. But we could sacrifice a few years of hard graft for a lifetime of holidays and dosh, couldn’t we?’
My heart rate speeds up. I know what Jared’s like when he gets an idea. He won’t let it go. He’ll force it through with charm, or brute force – whichever works best. It was the same when we bought our house, and it was the same with Joe’s school. I remember our ten-year wedding anniversary where Jared arranged a surprise trip to the Caribbean for a two-week, five-star holiday while my sister looked after Joe. Beth didn’t feel like she could say no to my husband, even though Megan was only nine-months-old at the time. Jared made it a surprise trip because he knew I would never have wanted to go. Yes, we had a good time, but the guilt and stress marred my enjoyment to the point where I couldn’t wait to get back home.
And now we’re struggling financially because of all the loans and expenses. I love my husband but his ambition and extravagance leave me edgy and short of breath. ‘Why don’t we think about it?’ I say. ‘There’s no hurry, is there?’
He grins, leans over and kisses me, his blue eyes twinkling. ‘It’ll be amazing. You can help me think of a name for the agency.’
‘Jared,’ I say. ‘We really need to think about it first. We’ve only been in our house a year. Joe’s just started a new school. We don’t have any spare cash. You’ll need money to set it up, a client list, staff . . .’
‘Staff’s no problem, I know loads of great creatives and account handlers. We can get a business loan to get us off the ground. And I can pitch for new clients. Simple.’
He makes everything sound so easy. I want to be swept up in his plans, I really do. But all I can see is the worry of a thousand decisions and
the burden of borrowing more money.
‘Don’t worry, Lou. It’ll be good for us. For our little family.’ He downs the rest of his tea and gets to his feet, stretching his arms out in front of him. ‘Okay, I’m going for a run, then to the gym. I’ll be back about nine, okay?’
I nod. ‘What do you want to eat tonight?’
‘Anything. Something easy. Stir fry?’
I nod, my stomach suddenly knotted with anxiousness. Maybe he’s right. Maybe it will be okay, and he’ll make a success of it. I shouldn’t be such a killjoy. I should be more fun, more laid back. More like Darcy.
Chapter Four
It’s a perfect Indian summer. The sky is a luminous blue, the air bursting with the promise of true warmth. Not a day for cardigans and jackets, but for shorts and swimming costumes, factor-thirty sun cream, and parasols. The beach isn’t busy yet so we’ve managed to nab a great spot down at Branksome, far enough away from the busiest areas, yet not too far from the shop, toilets and café. I’m sitting cross-legged on the rug, under the sun umbrella, head down, engrossed in my novel.
‘Sorry we’re late.’
I glance up to see Beth, her wife Carys, and Megan laden down with bags. They only live a few minutes’ walk from here but they’re already red-faced and sweaty.
‘Hey,’ I say.
‘Hi, Aunty Louisa. Where’s Joe?’ Megan asks, her strawberry blonde curls tumbling out from her sun hat. My niece has similar skin colouring to me, so she has to be extra careful in the sun.
‘Hi, sweetie,’ I reply. ‘Joe and Uncle Jared are out on their paddle boards. Do you want to go out on a board with Uncle Jared?’
She nods, so I put my Kindle down and start to get up. ‘I’ll take you down to the sea.’
‘That’s okay,’ Carys says, wriggling out of her shorts. ‘Stay. I’ll take her. I want a swim anyway.’
Beth and I stand together and watch them head down to the water’s edge, Megan running ahead, and Carys waving to Jared and Joe.
‘What time are Mum and Dad coming?’ I ask, sitting back down.
‘They should be here any minute – that is if Mum can tear Dad away from the garden.’ Beth plops down beside me.
‘I was there last week, dropping a book off for Mum, and they were ballroom dancing around the dining room.’ I smile at the memory.
‘They’re doing evening classes,’ Beth says.
I nod. They already told me about it.
‘Salsa, Bollywood and Ballroom,’ we say in unison, dissolving into giggles.
‘Well, this is bloody nice,’ Beth says, propping herself up with one arm and turning to face me.
It’s so not fair – her blonde pixie cut frames gorgeous dark honey-coloured skin, while my pale auburn curls are frizzing around my freckle-spattered face. I coil my hair up on top of my head, holding it off my neck for a moment, wishing I’d thought to bring a hair elastic.
‘How are you guys, anyway?’ I say. ‘How’s Megan getting on at school?’
‘Really good. A few wobbles at first, but now she loves it. How about Joe?’
‘Yeah, great. We still can’t afford it, though.’ I laugh, trying to conceal my anxiety.
My sister and her wife are lawyers. They live in a gorgeous three-bedroom apartment, just a few minutes from the beach. Megan started at Cerne Manor last year, which is when Jared got the idea to start sending Joe there. The difference is, my sister and Carys earn a six-figure salary, and we don’t.
‘Will you have to take him out of the school?’ Beth asks, her brow wrinkling. ‘I’m sure we can help if―’
‘No, no, we’re okay. I’m just panicking as usual. Thing is, Jared’s got it into his head that he wants to leave his job and set up his own agency.’
‘Oh?’
‘Actually, he’s skipped the “thinking about it” phase. Just wants to do it.’
Beth doesn’t respond. She nods with a thoughtful expression on her face.
‘In case you can’t tell, I’m not thrilled with the idea,’ I say.
‘Maybe it’ll be okay,’ she says. ‘If anyone can make it work, Jared can. He’s a hard worker and people love him. He’ll charm the business into a success.’
I force out a smile.
‘Don’t worry, Louisa. You know what Jared’s like. For as long as you’ve known him, he’s always been ambitious. He’s always wanted the best – it’s why he married you.’ She grins and pokes me in the chest.
Beth always has a way of making me feel better about things. Making me less anxious. She’s only three years older than me, but she’s so much more together. I wish I could be more like her.
‘Anyway, sorry, let’s not worry about that now,’ I say, pushing away my anxiety and focusing instead on the sea and the sky. On the image of my family bobbing about on the water, and on the heat of the sun on my skin.
‘Hello, girls.’
Beth and I turn at the sound of our father’s voice. We both make a move to stand. Mum motions us to stay where we are.
‘Hello, darlings,’ Mum says. ‘We brought chairs. Us old fogies can’t get up and down off the rug like you young ’uns.’
‘Rubbish,’ Beth says. ‘You guys are fitter than the lot of us.’
She’s not wrong. Mum looks amazing, with her slim figure and swingy, blonde bobbed hair, and Dad is a sprightly sixty-year-old with salt-and-pepper hair and a trim physique. Beth and I get to our feet despite their admonishments for us to stay seated, and we hug and kiss our parents, helping them set out their chairs and parasols.
‘Where are my gorgeous grandchildren?’ Mum asks as she roots around in her cold-bag.
‘In the sea,’ Beth answers, ‘with Jared and Carys.’
‘I remember you two were such water babies,’ Dad says. ‘Couldn’t keep you out of the sea.’
‘Watermelon?’ Mum asks. ‘I cut up some slices. It’s nice and cold, just what you want on a scorcher like today.’
Mum and Dad adopted me when I was ten, and yet they always treated me exactly the same as Beth, as though I’m their natural daughter. I love them for it. To me, they are my real parents and I try not to think about the time before I was with them.
The rest of the day passes in a haze of sun cream and picnic food. I’m nicely tired. Ready for a glass of wine at home. Megan is becoming fractious, though. Her voice now a semitone below whiny, her bottom lip quivering.
‘We better get this one home,’ Carys says, scooping her daughter up and kissing her apple-red cheeks.
‘No! I don’t want to go,’ Megan cries.
‘Shh, baby,’ Mum says. ‘Give her to me while you get your things together.’
Carys gratefully deposits Megan onto Mum’s lap.
‘We’re going, too,’ I say to my niece, heaving myself up and surveying our messy encampment. ‘We’re all going. It’s time for baths and beds.’
‘Hey, guys.’
I turn my head at the sound of a familiar voice.
‘Tyler!’ Joe yells. ‘Awesome.’
It’s Darcy, Tyler and an older guy – balding, but in good shape – who I assume must be her husband. They look like something out of a luxury holiday brochure. Her, in a sheer turquoise kaftan, Aviators, and boho jewellery, hair sun-kissed and lightly tousled. Him, in a white shirt, Ray-Bans, and khaki shorts. By contrast, I must appear crumpled and sweaty. I attempt to brush the sand from my clothes and hair.
‘Hey,’ Darcy says. ‘Fancy seeing you here.’
We kiss on the cheek.
‘Hi,’ I say.
‘This is my husband, Mike.’
‘Good to meet you,’ he says with a smile. Mike seems as warm and friendly as Darcy.
‘This is Jared,’ I say with a swell of possessive pride. Next, I introduce my parents – John and Barb – then Beth, Carys and Megan.
‘You look like you’ve had a great day,’ Darcy says, eyeing our sandy rug, paddle boards, wet towels and plastic Tesco rubbish bags. ‘Nice boards,’ she adds. ‘We love paddle bo
arding.’
A tinge of envy needles me. Because of my knee, I can’t manage many sports activities anymore.
‘We’re just packing up,’ I say.
‘Well,’ Darcy says. ‘You should all come back to our place for a drink. We’re just a few minutes’ walk along the beach. We can fire up the barbeque. John, Barb, and everyone, you’re more than welcome, we’d love you all to come, too.
‘Can we?’ Joe asks, turning to me, his eyes round and pleading.
‘It’s a bit late,’ I say. ‘You’ve got school tomorrow.’
‘He’ll be fine,’ Jared says, not picking up on my reluctance. He turns to Darcy and Mike. ‘We’d love to come.’
‘Thank you for the kind invitation,’ my dad says, ‘but we’ll bow out this time.’
‘Dad’s itching to get back to his garden,’ I say.
He ruffles my hair. ‘You know me so well, LouLou.’
Beth gives me a sympathetic glance. ‘Thanks for the offer,’ she says to Darcy. ‘But Megan here is about to have the mother of all meltdowns. We need to get her home, pronto.’
‘I totally understand,’ Darcy says. ‘What a sweetie, though. Another time?’
‘Absolutely,’ Carys says, expertly folding up their travel rug.
Eventually, we say our goodbyes to my parents, my sister and her family, waving as they leave the beach and head back home.
‘We’re in the car park,’ Jared says. ‘We’ll pack up and drive round to yours, shall we?’
Mike nods. ‘Sure. We’ll head back along the beach – take Joe with us, if you like.’
Joe’s face lights up. He and Tyler high five each other and make off down the beach kicking Joe’s football to each other as they go.
‘Thanks. See you there,’ Jared says. He shakes Mike’s hand and kisses Darcy’s cheek.
It’s funny how you can just click with people. It already feels like we’ve known them for ages. They head off along the beach towards Sandbanks, while Jared and I turn our attention to packing away our gear.
‘They seem nice,’ Jared says.
‘Really friendly,’ I agree. ‘I wish we had time to go home and get changed. I feel like a right mess.’
‘You look fine,’ Jared says, brushing sand off his board. ‘It’s just a barbeque.’
The Best Friend: a chilling psychological thriller Page 2