Before I Let You In

by Jenny Blackhurst

  ‘So what can we do? If Eleanor won’t believe you and you can’t give her the proof you think you have now?’ Bea’s voice was harder now, with a weary tinge that told Karen she didn’t really want to be involved in any of this – or she still didn’t completely believe her either. She knew Bea had issues of her own and she didn’t court drama the way some people did. This wasn’t a sport for her.

  ‘You could try and find out for yourself. Don’t look like that, Bea. If you found evidence that Adam was having an affair, then you could tell Eleanor without breaking any client confidentiality. You wouldn’t even have to tell Eleanor; you could just tell Adam you knew and he’d probably break it off with this woman himself.’

  ‘Wouldn’t that just put Eleanor and the boys at more risk? If this woman gets dumped? I mean, if she’s obsessed with Eleanor, then getting cast aside in favour of her might push her over the edge of crazy.’

  ‘That’s where I come in. I’ll carry on working with her, and if her mental health deteriorates I can take the case for breaking confidentiality and going to the police back to Robert. He just needs something concrete to ensure the practice doesn’t suffer. This will all be fine. I promise.’

  The look on Bea’s face told Karen that her friend didn’t believe her. And perhaps she was right not to.

  48

  Bea

  Today had started out as a good day. Then Karen had turned up and blown her good mood to pieces with her weird ramblings about Adam having some affair with one of her patients and now she was confused and worried about the mental health of both of her friends. And the two people she would usually talk things through with were the two people acting strangely.

  Throwing her handbag on to the sofa, she made herself some dinner – sausage and beans on toast with a sprinkling of grated cheese and Worcester sauce (food of the gods, her grandad used to say) – and was just about to settle down to Season 2 of Orange Is the New Black on Netflix and forget everything for the evening when from somewhere inside her bag her mobile rang.

  ‘Fuck sake,’ she muttered, her mouth full of hot melted cheese. She’d pretty much made up her mind not to answer when she checked the name on the display. Eleanor. She had only exchanged the odd obligatory Ru ok? text message since following her out of the café last week, and given her conversation with Karen today, she really couldn’t ignore her now.

  ‘’Lo.’ She swallowed her food. ‘What’s up?’

  ‘Bea, it’s me, Eleanor.’ Bea smirked. Eleanor did that every time she called, despite the fact that she knew very well that her name would flash up on Bea’s screen.

  ‘Is everything okay?’

  Eleanor hesitated. ‘I’m not sure. Look, you didn’t send me an email earlier today, did you? From a new address?’

  ‘Nope. I haven’t got a new email address.’ Bea clicked the TV on with the remote. ‘Why? Is it an RSVP? I thought we were having all those sent to that party email?’

  ‘No, it was from you and it wasn’t anything to do with the party.’

  ‘But I didn’t send you any emails today. What did it say? And if it’s not my email address, what makes you think it was from me?’

  ‘It had your name on the account,’ Eleanor replied. ‘So it looked like it was from you at first glance. I checked the address and it was slightly different; the E in Barker was a three.’

  Bea stopped scrolling through the programme list. ‘So what did it say? Penis enlargement? Viagra advert?’

  ‘Have you got your laptop there? I’ll send it to you.’

  Bea resisted the urge to sigh. Eleanor could be so melodramatic sometimes – why couldn’t she just tell her what the bloody thing said? All this cloak-and-dagger, and her melted cheese was going claggy.

  ‘Here, let me stick it on now.’ She booted up her laptop. ‘So how are the kids?’

  ‘Fine, thanks. Do you have it?’

  ‘It’s still starting up. What’s up, Els? You know me and Karen have been worried about you the last few weeks. Is there anything I can help with? Can I have the boys more for you so you can get some rest?’

  ‘What’s Karen been saying? Don’t you think she’s been acting a bit weird?’

  Bea stayed silent. She knew exactly why Karen had been weird around Eleanor, but there was no way she was going to talk about it now, and especially not over the phone. Eleanor hadn’t told her personally what Karen had said to her about Adam, which meant she either didn’t believe it at all, or she did believe it and didn’t want to talk about it.

  ‘Has she said something to you?’ Shit, she’d been quiet too long. ‘About what happened with Noah? About what I’d thought happened?’

  ‘Huh? I’m just getting my email up. What did you say?’

  ‘It’s okay, I’m just rambling. Do you have it?’

  ‘Yeah, here, I’ve got two from you.’ Bea’s cursor hovered over the first email.

  ‘I only sent one. When was the other one sent?’

  She checked the time stamp. ‘Midday. The second one’s from your AOL account and the first one’s from your Hotmail.’

  She double-clicked on the second email and a new window opened.

  ‘I don’t have a Hotmail account. What does it say?’

  ‘Calm down. I’m opening the one you just sent.’

  The picture appeared bit by bit on the screen. ‘It’s Karen coming out of the Bellstone. Why would anyone send you this?’

  ‘Look at the time stamp on the photo,’ Eleanor instructed. Bea looked at the digits in the bottom left-hand corner of the photo.

  ‘Two forty-five a.m. Doesn’t the Bellstone close the bar at eleven? I didn’t think they did lock-ins.’

  ‘They don’t. She must have had a room. Why would she book a room twenty minutes from home?’

  Bea almost shrugged before she realised Eleanor couldn’t see her. ‘I don’t know; maybe she and Michael had a sexy night away.’

  ‘Look at the date. Two weeks Saturday. Michael was working away that weekend.’

  Bea blew out a breath between her teeth. ‘You think she’s having an affair?’

  ‘I don’t know, but it looks odd, right? And if you didn’t send it, who did? What does the other one say? The one that’s supposedly from me that I didn’t send you this afternoon from a Hotmail account I don’t have.’

  ‘Just a sec … it’s loading … Jesus, this computer’s been slow lately.’

  The picture on the email downloaded. Shit.

  ‘Eleanor? I’m going to have to call you back.’

  She hung up before Eleanor could protest and stared at the screen, where her friend’s boyfriend stood with his arm around another woman on what was clearly their wedding day.

  49

  It was after our first session; that was when I knew. She thought she had the measure of me, that she could hide who she really was, but there isn’t any hiding, not from someone like me. A killer in plain sight – what do they say? A wolf in sheep’s clothing. When you wear a mask yourself, you see others more clearly, you know what to look for, the signs that someone is imitating. We were more alike than she would ever be willing to admit, both so desperate to be normal and loved for who we really were, not who the world thought we were. The only difference was that I was on to her. I knew how dangerous she was.

  I don’t know when I realised I was going to have to kill her. It wasn’t a conscious decision, contrary to what they think now. I don’t know what surprised me more: the realisation that I was going to have to kill again or finding that the idea didn’t completely repulse me.

  50

  Eleanor

  Humming to herself, Eleanor made sure the bathroom door was fully closed before turning on the shower full blast and cranking up the heat. The video monitor rested silently at the side of the sink, Noah’s tiny frame filling the screen. He looked so angelic when he slept – which was mainly in the day – no trace of the demon child who emerged every night between the hours of 11 and 2, screaming relentlessly until his
face was so red it was almost purple and Eleanor didn’t think she could take any more.

  He’d only been asleep for ten minutes, which meant Eleanor had at least twenty minutes to have a shower and make herself a cup of tea, maybe even some toast if she was lucky. As she stepped into the bath, the warm spray hitting her exhausted body, she groaned with pleasure. This was one of the small luxuries she’d taken for granted before she had children, and had come to take for granted again as Toby had got older.

  As she relaxed against the warm water, she thought about the email she’d received, the photo of Karen leaving the Bellstone. Was Karen cheating on Michael? If she was, it certainly wasn’t any of her business, but the part of her that needed to be involved in every aspect of her friends’ lives was dying to know. It wasn’t like she could come out and ask her. And it wasn’t as though she wasn’t busy enough with her own life to worry about how Karen spent her Saturdays, or to think too much about why Bea had slammed the phone down on her and not answered her calls since. Instead she considered what she had to do next week. Tuesday – credit card bill and Next catalogue to be paid. Thursday – was that the 27th or the 28th? She picked up the shampoo and took her time rubbing it into her scalp, enjoying the luxury of lather, rinse, repeat.

  Definitely the 28th. Which meant Noah had the health visitor at 11 and Tobes had football after school. She didn’t have to pick him up until 4.30, but she had to remember to have his kit ready in the morning to save having to make a mad dash to the school with it like last week.

  She reached for her leave-in conditioner just as she heard Noah stirring in his crib. Bugger. Washing the soap from her face, she scanned the instructions:

  Comb through damp hair from root to tip. Leave for two hours and rinse. Repeat once weekly. If anything needed some TLC it was her hair. Pregnancy had given it a new lease of life, making it shinier and thicker than ever, but since Noah had been born it was finding its way down the plughole more often than not and she often went a week without remembering to wash it. The baby was barely moaning; plenty of time to lather this in, and she could have it rinsed and dried before picking Toby up from school. The other mums would probably report her for kidnap, she’d be that unrecognisable.

  She finished rubbing it through just in time for the full-scale crying fit to begin. Looked like tea and toast were off the menu until her mini waste disposal unit had had his fill. At least she had her wonder pills.

  ‘OK, baby, Mummy’s coming.’ She wrapped her hair in a towel and grabbed her dressing gown. Water had pooled at the side of the bath and her foot went skidding out from underneath her, nearly sending her arse over tit on to the bathroom floor. She grabbed at the glass shower screen, steadying herself. ‘Good save,’ she muttered.

  Noah stopped screaming the minute she picked him up and he snuggled into her bare shoulder. She managed to pull on some pyjama bottoms while still holding him and lay down on her bed, guiding him to her breast with one hand and turning on the TV with the other. Her eyelids fluttered; she struggled to keep them open while Noah suckled, but they felt so heavy, and closing them felt so good. On the TV she could hear Amanda and Phillip introducing their guest, a woman who was being plagued by ghosts. As she drifted off, she heard the woman talking about her life turning into a living nightmare.

  She woke with a start, freezing cold and her scalp on fire. The This Morning theme tune was playing its closing notes – she must have been asleep over an hour. Horrified, she looked down at Noah. His eyes were closed and she placed a hand on his chest to check his breathing. Oh thank God, she thought when she felt his tiny ribcage move. He snorted against her bare breast and she moved gingerly, turning herself to the side and swinging her legs off the bed, placing Noah in his crib as though he was made of glass.

  She checked the time on her phone: 12.34. This stuff had only been on half an hour longer than it said on the tube – surely it shouldn’t sting this much?

  Stepping back into the shower, she flipped on the water and stood under it before it had even warmed up. She ran her hands through her hair, desperate to get the conditioner off. When she lifted them away from her scalp, she reeled in shock at the clump of hair stuck to her hand.

  Flicking it into the bath, she watched as it swirled into the plughole, too big to go down. She’d been losing hair for weeks – it was normal after pregnancy apparently – but never this much in one go. She ran her fingers through again and the same thing happened, another thick clump of blonde hair coming away in her fingers. Frantically she clawed at her scalp, watching her once beautiful hair falling away and powerless to stop it. Feeling her knees go weak, she sank to the bottom of the bath, the water beating on her head, and screamed.

  51

  Bea

  ‘Shiiiiiit, what did you do?’

  Bea could picture her sister loading plates into the dishwasher, cradling the phone under her chin and trying to decide what to cook for tea. She felt a little thrill that she was sitting on the grass outside the local library enjoying some rare autumn sunshine.

  ‘Nothing. Absolutely bupkis,’ Bea replied.

  ‘What, you didn’t tell Eleanor? I definitely thought you’d tell her when you found out.’

  ‘God, no! She’s very clear on what she thinks about women who sleep with married men. Wait, what do you mean, when I found out?’

  ‘Oh. Um, well …’

  ‘You knew! Didn’t you?’

  There was a silence that screamed guilt and then a small squeak from Fran. ‘I suppose I did.’

  ‘How? And why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘Rich had a job at a house. Turned out it was Michael’s. He didn’t realise until he saw pictures of Michael with his family all over the place – wife and three kids. He recognised him straight away, it wasn’t long after we’d been for that meal with you all. I didn’t want to tell you because if Karen hasn’t told you then she doesn’t want you to know. I have tried to warn you …’

  ‘Why would Karen tell me? You’re not suggesting she knows, are you?’ A thought occurred to her. ‘Did you send me those pictures?’

  ‘Oh yeah, because I have time to go undercover as Joey Greco. If I’d wanted you to know, I’d just have told you. I was waiting for Karen to do it.’

  ‘You keep saying that; what makes you think she knows?’

  ‘She’s not stupid, Bea. He’s probably got a dent in his finger where his ring usually sits. Rich said you should have heard his poor wife. Talking about her wonderful husband who sacrificed so much working away all week so they could afford nice things. Made him feel sick, he said.’

  The hairs pricked up on Bea’s arms, despite the lack of any breeze. Her phone beeped in her ear, and she held it up so she could see the screen:

  Where ru? Need u. Please come. Xx

  ‘I gotta go, Fran, Eleanor has just texted.’

  ‘Do you think she knows?’

  Bea shrugged. ‘God knows. Guess I’m about to find out.’

  52

  Karen

  When Karen pulled up outside Eleanor’s beautiful mid-terrace house, Bea was just getting out of her Fiat Punto. She hung back as Karen pulled on the handbrake, jumped out of the car and clicked the central locking.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Bea eyed her somewhat suspiciously, as though she was surprised to see her there; maybe she’d expected that Karen wouldn’t be able to leave work.

  ‘No idea. Got a “get here now” text. You?’

  ‘Same. You don’t think it’s to do with Adam, do you? You know, what you were saying about that woman you’ve been treating?’

  Karen had wondered exactly the same when she’d received the text message, and had left the office straight away, telling Molly that she was taking an early lunch and hoping desperately it wouldn’t be a problem. Her next patient wasn’t until 3 p.m. – that gave her two hours to find out what the hell was going on with Eleanor.

  ‘God, I hope not. It’d break her.’

  ‘Karen, I …’ Bea st
arted, her face creased in a frown.

  ‘What? What’s wrong?’

  Bea stopped walking and looked from Karen to the house, obviously trying to decide whether to say what she wanted to say.

  ‘Nothing,’ she mumbled. ‘Just that Adam’s car’s here.’ She thumbed down the street.

  ‘I didn’t see that. Let’s just go in and find out.’

  Bea seemed as reluctant to go into the house as Karen was, although she wasn’t sure what either of them was dreading. Adam opened the door before they had a chance to knock. Noah was draped over one shoulder, eyes wide open but quiet and not visibly hurt in any way. That was one thing, she supposed.

  ‘What’s going on, Ad?’ Bea asked as he stepped to one side to let them in.

  ‘There’s been an accident.’ His voice was grim and Karen’s heart sank.

  ‘Eleanor? Is she okay?’ Her mind swam with possibilities.

  ‘She’s not hurt. It’s … well, it’s her hair.’

  ‘Her hair?’ The nauseous feeling that had plagued Karen since she’d received the text half an hour ago gave way to mild annoyance. She forced her voice into a light joking tone. ‘Please don’t tell me she called me out of work because she got a bad haircut?’

  ‘She didn’t text you; I used her phone. She didn’t want anyone here, but I’ve got to go a meeting, then I’ll have to pick up Toby …’ He lowered his voice and shot a look towards the closed living room door, as though his wife might have materialised there. ‘I don’t want to leave her on her own. I’m afraid she might do something … stupid.’