The Other Woman_A gripping debut psychological thriller that will keep you turning the pages

by Sandie Jones

  ‘It’s not very nice,’ she said. ‘And they say it’s going to get worse. I can’t imagine what I’m going to do with myself when that happens.’

  ‘You might be all right,’ I said curtly. ‘People react very differently to chemotherapy. It’s down to the individual. You might be one of the lucky ones.’

  ‘Oh, I doubt that,’ she said.

  ‘Doubt what?’ asked Adam gently, as he got into the driver’s seat.

  ‘Emily thinks I’ll sail through this, but I think she might be underestimating it.’

  I smiled to myself and shook my head incredulously, just as Adam turned to look at me, his face saying, what is wrong with you?

  ‘How did it go, Mum?’ he asked. ‘You okay?’

  She pulled up the sleeve of her cardigan again, as if showing a ball of cotton wool was all that she needed to do to prove she had cancer.

  ‘I feel a bit woozy,’ she said. ‘I think even the place makes you feel strange. All those stories you hear. They’re enough to send you bananas on their own.’

  ‘Why don’t you let Adam come in with you next time?’ I said. ‘He might be able to take your mind off it.’

  ‘Oh no, I don’t want him seeing me in there, like that,’ she said.

  ‘I’d like to, Mum. If it will help?’

  ‘No, you’re a big softy,’ she said, reaching over to pat his thigh. ‘I can’t have you getting all upset. Now, enough of all this doom and gloom, let’s get back home and have a nice brew.’

  I made the tea while she lay on the sofa, directing Adam as to how to place her pillows so that she was sitting up enough, but not too much.

  ‘Well, isn’t this lovely,’ she commented, as I carried in the tray with the teas on. ‘I just wish I was feeling better.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Mum, I’m sure you’ll be as good as new in no time. We’ll just have to make sure we look after you until then.’

  ‘Well, I was going to say about that,’ she said, as she shakily took a cup and saucer from the tray. ‘I’m not all that good, as you can see.’ She held up a doddering hand as if to prove the point. ‘And I had a fall on the day you moved back to be with Emily.’

  ‘Oh no,’ he said anxiously. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘Well, I am, and, as you know, I’ve always been fiercely independent, but . . .’ she trailed off.

  I turned to look out of the window, waiting for what I knew was about to come.

  ‘But I’m finding it very difficult,’ she went on. ‘It’s hard to admit, but that’s the fact of the matter. It would really help if you were around a bit more. I got used to having you here for those couple of weeks – wrong I know, but I can’t help it. I feel vulnerable, now that you’re gone.’

  I forced myself to stay where I was, to concentrate on the sunflowers that were in full bloom at the end of the garden, their brightness at odds with the dark grey clouds looming overhead.

  ‘I can’t stay any longer,’ said Adam. ‘I need to be at home with Emily. But I’ll pop in, and James is always around.’

  ‘I know, I know.’ She sighed. ‘But James isn’t quite so reliable these days, now that he’s met this new girl.’

  I swung round far quicker than I should have.

  ‘New girl?’ My stomach turned at the thought of him with someone else, not because I wanted him, but because I didn’t want anyone else to have him either.

  She looked at me. ‘He met her in a bar in town about a month ago. Seems to have knocked him sideways.’ I tried to keep my expression neutral, but every muscle in my face was twitching. ‘Don’t think I’ve ever seen him like it.’

  ‘Was he going to bring her to the wedding?’ I asked nonchalantly.

  ‘No, we chatted about it, but we both felt it was too early. They’d only been together for a couple of weeks, which was far too soon to be throwing her into the lion’s den and introducing her to the whole clan.’

  ‘Have you met her?’ I asked.

  ‘No, not yet, but I hope to in the next few weeks – whenever James is ready.’

  She made herself sound so reasoned, so plausible. I looked at her and wondered what was running through her head. What hell was she planning for this poor girl, if it ever got serious?

  ‘He certainly seems to be smitten, though,’ she went on. ‘You two will have to be careful – they might well end up beating you down the aisle at this rate.’

  ‘Mum!’ Adam laughed, in mock umbrage.

  I wondered when the cancellation of our wedding, twenty-four hours before it was supposed to happen, had become something acceptable to joke about, especially by the groom.

  ‘So, the heartbreak diet obviously didn’t work for you?’ she said, as soon as Adam took himself out of the room.

  I smiled and patted my flat stomach. ‘Or maybe I’m pregnant from all the amazing make-up sex we’ve had?’

  I raised my eyebrows, and she frowned in distaste.

  ‘Are they not concerned about the effect this treatment might have on your asthma?’ I asked boldly.

  ‘Asthma?’ she asked, genuinely surprised by the question. ‘I haven’t got asthma.’

  ‘Oh, I thought I remembered Adam telling me once that you’d had it when he was younger? I’d read somewhere that certain types of chemo can have an adverse effect on asthmatics.’ I was fishing, but I needed to know with utmost certainty that the inhaler wasn’t hers, though I already knew it wasn’t.

  ‘No, never,’ she said, whistling and reaching over to touch wood.

  ‘Never what?’ asked Adam as he came back into the room.

  ‘Nothing, son.’

  ‘What have I missed?’ he asked, smiling. ‘It feels like you two have a secret.’

  I smiled back and shook my head. ‘I was just saying that I’m sure you’d told me that your mum had asthma, when you were younger, but I must have dreamt it.’ I caught a glint of his set jaw, and knew I’d pushed my luck, so I laughed to lighten the mood. ‘You’d be genuinely terrified if you knew what I dreamt about.’

  ‘So, when are you two lovebirds going to reschedule the wedding?’ asked Pammie, clearly desperate to change the subject. ‘I guess it will be a while away now, won’t it? Be difficult to reorganize everything so quickly, what with getting everyone there again – and that’s if the venue even has free dates.’

  She was rambling on, answering her own questions with what she’d like to hear. But I’m not one for giving Pammie what she wants. ‘No, I think it’ll be soon,’ I said, knowing full well that the hotel didn’t have any vacancies for at least six months. I felt the prickle of hot tears springing to my eyes unexpectedly, and batted them away. I would never allow her the satisfaction of thinking her actions could make me cry. ‘I’m hoping that it’ll happen in the next month or two.’

  I watched her face crumple. ‘Oh, that will be such a relief, dear,’ she cried, pulling a tissue from a nearby box and dabbing at her eyes. ‘That will go some way to assuaging my guilt.’

  ‘I don’t know about that, Em,’ Adam said, his brow knitted. ‘There’s a lot to do in that time.’ He crouched down beside Pammie. ‘And you’ve got nothing to feel guilty about, Mum. That was my decision.’

  He looked up at me. If he was hoping for a smile, a hint of forgiveness, he was mistaken.

  I turned it on for Pammie, though, kneeling down beside Adam and taking her hand in mine. ‘But obviously we’re not going to do it until you’re better,’ I smiled piteously. ‘We need to know you’re through the treatment and out the other side.’

  ‘Oh, you’re a lovely girl,’ she said, patting my hand. My skin crawled at her touch.

  ‘She is,’ agreed Adam, pulling me towards him and kissing my cheek. I turned my face so that our lips met, and I parted mine ever so slightly, inviting him to take more. He pulled away, but the act wasn’t lost on Pammie, who turned away in disgust.

  35

  Adam had slept in the spare room for the two nights he’d been back home, as I naively believed that withholdin
g sex would make him understand the severity of what he’d done and the risk he’d taken. But that was childish, and it wasn’t what either of us wanted. Yet it wasn’t until we came away from Pammie’s that I realized I’d been playing right into her hands. She wanted the cancellation of the wedding to ruin us, she was banking on it, so I needed to make sure that what she’d done was never going to have an adverse effect on us as a couple. She had changed me as a person already, had made me see myself differently. She’d stripped away my confidence and had caused hurt that I’d carry with me until the day I died, but I would not allow her to take away the one thing she wanted. She would never take Adam away from me. I’d use the only weapon in my artillery that she’d never be able to outgun me with.

  The front door hadn’t even closed properly before I pushed him up against the back of it, and kissed him, searching furiously for his tongue. He didn’t say a word, but I could feel him smiling as he kissed me back, softly at first, then harder. It had been a long time for both of us, and with so many emotions in the space in between, it just felt like a pressure cooker going off. I undid his shirt buttons, ripping at the bottom two in my urgency, and he reached around to unzip the back of my dress, the intensity of our kissing not stopping for even a second. As my dress fell to the floor he swung me round and slammed me hard against the door, pinning my arms up above my head. I was helpless as he kissed my neck, before going down and moving the fabric of my bra aside with his teeth, circling my nipples with his tongue.

  I went to pull my arms down, but he held them firm, changing from two hands to one, as he undid his jeans and pushed my legs apart with his feet. It couldn’t have lasted more than three minutes but the release was incredible, and the pair of us remained unmoving against the door, our breaths heavy and in unison.

  ‘Well, that was unexpected,’ Adam was the first to speak. ‘As you could probably tell. Sorry about that.’

  I smiled and kissed him. ‘We can do it again later, slower if you like.’

  He kissed me back. ‘God, I love you, Emily Havistock.’

  I didn’t say I loved him. I don’t know why, because I do. Perhaps it’s all part of that in-built defence mechanism that women seem to be born with, that bogs us down and keeps us from saying the things we really want to say. Believing that holding back somehow keeps us one step ahead, making us the better, stronger race. Why then, does pretending to be someone I’m not, leave me feeling weak and bereft?

  I waited until we were snuggled up on the sofa together, to broach the subject that was burning a hole in my head.

  ‘Can I ask you something about Rebecca?’ I said, careful to keep my voice steady.

  ‘Do you have to?’ Adam sighed. ‘We’re having a lovely time. Let’s not ruin it.’

  ‘We won’t,’ I replied. ‘We’re just talking.’

  He sighed resignedly, but I pushed on.

  ‘Did you get a chance to say goodbye to her? Was she still alive when you found her? Did she ever regain consciousness for long enough to know you were there?’

  He shook his head. ‘No. She’d already gone. She was . . . cold to the touch, and her lips were blue. I held her and kept calling her name, but there was nothing. No flicker of a pulse, nothing.’

  His eyes started welling up. ‘Did you have to go through the hell of a post-mortem or inquest?’ I asked.

  ‘No, thankfully. She had such a detailed history of asthma, albeit not serious, or so we thought, that it was obviously the cause of death.’

  ‘And your mum was there with you?’

  He nodded solemnly. ‘She was the one who found her. I can’t imagine what it was like for her.’

  ‘Who was the last person to see her? Before she became unwell?’

  ‘What is this,’ he said, ‘the Spanish Inquisition?’

  ‘I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry, I just . . . I don’t know. I just want to feel closer to you, know what goes on in that head of yours. That was a huge part of your life, and I just want to be in that same space, you know, understand how it must feel for you, even now, years later. Does that make sense?’

  I wrinkled my nose, and he kissed it.

  ‘Mum had taken up a few boxes earlier in the day, and they’d had a cup of tea, I think, in between unpacking, and she seemed fine.’

  ‘What, absolutely normal?’ I asked.

  ‘Yes, but she always was before an attack. It just creeps up on you.’

  ‘So, you’d seen her have an asthma attack before?’ I asked.

  ‘A few, yeah. But we both knew what to do whenever she felt it coming on, so it was never an issue, assuming she had her inhaler with her, which she always did. She knew to just stop what she was doing, sit down, and puff away until she was able to regulate her breathing again. It only ever got scary once, after we’d run for a train. It wasn’t even that far, but it knocked the stuffing out of her, and I had to get her to lie down on the floor of the carriage, whilst I desperately searched for her pump.’

  ‘But she was okay, though?’ I asked.

  ‘Eventually. But you know what you girls’ handbags are like.’ He tried to smile. ‘She had everything in there, as if she was living in it, and I had to turn the whole thing upside down to find it. The first thing she said, once she was able to, was, “If that was my new Chanel lipstick I saw rolling away, I’ll kill you!” She was lying on the floor, unable to breathe, and all she was worried about was her bloody lipstick.’

  He smiled at the memory. I smiled too. I liked the sound of her.

  ‘If I’d have been there, I could have helped her. I could have found her inhaler and stopped it.’ His head bowed and his chest lifted. ‘But you just never know when it’s going to come. You can be going along just fine, and then bam! You feel the signs, and then if you don’t do anything about it, it can take you out, just like that.’ He clicked his fingers.

  ‘So, she must have been exerting herself, then?’ I said gently. ‘Perhaps moving boxes around or something?’

  He nodded. ‘There was a big box, full of books, upturned on its side in the hall. It was so heavy, she should never have tried to lift it, but it seemed she did. That kind of work would have put a huge strain on her lungs, plus she would have been running up and down the stairs all day.’ His voice cracked. ‘I guess she was trying to get it into shape by the time I got home.’

  ‘But you spoke to her that evening, didn’t you?’ I asked.

  ‘I called her just before I left the office, and she was fine.’

  ‘Was your mum with her then?’ I asked. ‘What time did she leave?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ he said, rubbing his eyes. ‘Can we leave it now? Please.’

  ‘I’m sorry, I just don’t know how somebody can just die like that,’ I said, my voice getting a little higher with each word. He looked at me questioningly.

  ‘It just freaks me out, that’s all,’ I said.

  How could he not see? Surely, he must have asked himself the question. It was so blindingly obvious. Pammie was the last person to see his girlfriend alive, and the first person to find her dead, on the day they were moving in together, on the day he left home. There was no greater motive for her to do something terrible, to stop her worst nightmare from being realized. She would have felt that she was losing Adam, relinquishing control, and she wouldn’t have been able to bear that. God knows what hell she’d put Rebecca through in her attempt to get her out of Adam’s life. How far had she pushed her? I shuddered at the thought. Poor Rebecca, who once, like me, had so much to look forward to. A life with the man she loved. Her own family. But she’d not backed down. She’d stood up to Pammie and, by doing so, had unwittingly made the ultimate sacrifice.

  Was I taking the same risk? Was I signing my own death certificate?

  I didn’t want to carry this overwhelming sense of foreboding alone. But I had no choice. It was one thing to tell Pippa and Seb about how Pammie made me feel. They had seen for themselves how cruel she could be. But to accuse her of murder? Th
at was something completely different, and, until the time came when I knew for sure, without any shadow of a doubt, that she had something to do with Rebecca’s death, I had to keep it to myself.

  I smiled up at Adam.

  ‘What are you thinking about?’ he asked.

  If only you knew.

  Over the next few weeks, I threw myself into work, taking on every appointment I could manage. It helped to keep my brain busy, to stop the fear and panic from taking over. I was shattered, both physically and mentally, when I got in from work each night, but Adam would never have known. I did everything in my power to make him want and need me more than ever before.

  ‘What the hell’s got into you?’ he said, smiling, when he came home from work to find me dressed in a black-lace bra and panties, serving up fillet steak with a homemade peppercorn sauce.

  I gave him my best smile. He didn’t need to know that I’d have loved nothing more than a snuggle on the sofa, in our pyjamas, watching a box set whilst eating pot noodles. Instead, we had sex on the dining table, before I’d even managed to set the dinner down, and after eating, I listened sympathetically as he moaned about a lazy colleague, whilst I washed up. I am all his Christmases come at once, so that when the chips are down, when he is forced to make a choice, he will choose me, because he will never be able to give me up.

  36

  ‘I’ve got a big favour to ask,’ Adam said, as we sat down for breakfast on Saturday morning.

  I looked at him expectantly.

  ‘Are you still off next Wednesday?’

  I nodded. ‘I’m off every Wednesday, you know that,’ I said, as I munched on a piece of wholemeal toast.

  He grimaced, and I knew I wasn’t going to like what he was about to say. ‘I’ve got a really big client meeting . . .’

  I waited. Whatever he was about to ask, I wanted him to work for it, just a little.

  ‘And I was wondering if . . . it’s just that Mum has a chemo appointment, and I’ve already spoken to James, but he’s away with his new girlfriend—’