The Affair_A gripping psychological thriller with a shocking twist

by Sheryl Browne

  Preoccupied with what, exactly? ‘So it would seem,’ Justin said, heading past her to the lounge. He didn’t want to have this conversation in the hall.

  ‘I can’t even begin to imagine what you must be going through,’ Jess said, following him. ‘I mean, I know Luke’s death has devastated you both, but it must be so much harder on a man, when you’re supposed to be the strong one, holding everybody else up. I could see how upset you were today. I just wanted you to know you have a shoulder, if you need one.’

  ‘Thanks, Jess,’ Justin said distractedly, and then, running a hand wearily over his neck, he headed for the drinks table.

  Pouring a large whisky, which he felt badly in need of after the day’s events, his gaze fell on one of their old Adele CDs that Sophie had left on the table. Would she get through this? Would he ever hear her sing again? They’d never derided her ambition to be a pop artist. She emulated Adele so beautifully; if Justin closed his eyes, he really believed it was her. She was good, though she probably needed to hone her individuality. He’d been partway through converting the basement into a studio – that was going to be his present to her for her sixteenth birthday. Now, he had no idea what the future would hold.

  Taking a long drink of the whisky, which burned the back of his throat but did nothing to warm him, he placed the glass back on the table, stared at it for a second and then braced himself. ‘Can I ask you something, Jess?’ he said, looking cautiously towards her.

  ‘Anything,’ Jess assured him.

  Justin doubted she’d be so ready to answer when she heard the question. ‘Sophie…’ He paused, not sure he actually wanted to hear the answer. ‘Is she mine?’

  ‘What?’ Jessica paled.

  ‘You’re closest to Alicia, Jess,’ Justin went on quietly. ‘I have to know. Am I Sophie’s father?’

  Hearing himself speak the words, Justin felt like a complete bastard. How was he supposed not to ask though? He’d gone over and over it. Radley had worked with Alicia sixteen years ago, when she’d been with the financial services company. Justin remembered it well, the details brought sharply back into focus by the man’s reappearance. It had been then that he’d lost his family. Then that, spiralling into a depression he couldn’t seem to climb out of, he’d pushed Alicia away, rather than reach out to her. He’d finally woken up to the fact that he’d been so immersed in his grief he was paying no attention to her needs when she’d started staying out: spending nights with a girlfriend, she’d said. He’d hated himself for it, but he had wondered whether that was the truth. She’d had every reason to give up on him. With his emotions all over the place, he’d been impossible to live with. He’d tried to convince himself he was being paranoid, his suspicions based on nothing but the fear of losing her, too. They’d got through that rocky period. They’d been a strong family unit ever since. He’d thought they had. It had taken him a while, though, to stop looking for the signs.

  Something else had also occurred to him as he’d walked, something which had turned his gut inside out. Justin had noticed it when Radley had been watching him, a challenge in his eyes, at that fateful party: the man’s eyes were brown. Striking brown. Sophie’s eyes were a rich chestnut brown, where his and Alicia’s were blue. Genetically speaking, it was rare, though it was possible. He’d tried to rationalise it, but now… Was he being paranoid all over again? The fact that Radley seemed to pop up wherever Alicia was, was he imagining that? Imagining the fact that the man was all over her? Justin thought not. He hoped to God he was wrong.

  His heart constricting painfully, he waited for Jessica to answer.

  Jessica, though, didn’t seem to want to answer, looking away instead, looking anywhere but at him. Looking guilty. ‘You need to talk to Alicia,’ she said, eventually.

  And Justin knew. Without a doubt, he now knew what he so desperately didn’t want to. Already bursting with grief and guilt, his heart damn near exploded.

  Sixteen

  SOPHIE

  Sophie stopped in the hall, hardly able to breathe as she tried to digest what she’d just heard. Shaking her head in bewilderment, she swallowed hard and stepped closer to the partially open lounge door.

  ‘Why the hell didn’t she tell me?’ she heard Justin say angrily from inside.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Jess answered, sounding frantic. ‘I don’t know if there’s anything to tell. I know she was unhappy at one point, but she never talked to—’

  ‘Bullshit!’ Justin cut furiously across her. ‘What am I supposed to do with this, Jess, hey? I mean, what? Carry on as if it’s an inconsequential little detail she forgot to mention? Be there for her and pretend it’s not killing me that I’ve lost my son and my daughter? Jesus Christ. How? Does she even want to be with me?’

  ‘Justin, please… You need to ask Alicia. Now’s not the time to go into any of this.’

  Justin laughed cynically at that. ‘No, you’re right,’ he said bitterly. ‘There never was a right time, I suppose. Not when she was carrying the child she forgot to mention wasn’t mine. Not when she gave birth to her. Not when I held her for the first time, swore to devote my life to protecting her. How about before I walk her down the aisle? How about then, Jess? Will she tell me, do you think, as the bastard who had his eyes and hands all over her steps in to take my place?’

  ‘Justin, what am I supposed to say?’ Jessica beseeched him. ‘She’s my sister. I can’t betray her trust.’

  ‘How long did it go on?’ Justin demanded, and then laughed again bitterly. ‘Christ, I must be fucking blind. It’s still going on, isn’t it?’

  Sophie stopped listening. Clamping her hands hard to her ears, tears streaming unchecked down her face, she whirled around to fly upstairs to her bedroom.

  He wasn’t her father. She felt as if her world had just been ripped from underneath her. Gulping back a sob, she clutched her tummy tight. She felt so nauseous she was sure she was going to throw up. How long had he suspected? How long had he been reluctant to talk to her, to look at her properly? And he had. She’d sensed it. When she’d needed him most, when she’d had nothing but ghosts for company, Luke haunting her dreams, he’d been distant. Not just distracted, but different.

  And she… her so-called mother… Sophie had been so worried for her, hurt so much for her, but she obviously didn’t care about anyone! Liar! Lies. All of it.

  Who, then, was her father? Who had her mother had some furtive, dirty affair with, while married to the man she’d passed off as her dad? Was it someone Sophie knew? The milkman? The postman? The fucking odd-job man?

  It was sick! Sick and disgusting and sad. Why would he put up with that? Why? Stuffing things randomly in her overnight bag, Sophie snatched it up, swiped a hand across her cheeks and headed for the door. She couldn’t talk to him. She just couldn’t. She couldn’t bloody well breathe. Stopping halfway across the room, she paused and scrutinised herself in the mirror. She didn’t even look like him.

  She had no idea who she was.

  Choking back another sob, she wondered at the cruelty of this happening on the same day they’d buried her baby brother. Half-brother. That realisation hitting her like a blow to the chest, Sophie determined she would never trust either of them again. Ever.

  She had to get out. Going with Jessica was her best hope of avoiding him, her father who wasn’t her father and was clearly furious at being deceived into thinking he was. He was probably planning how fast he could get away.

  Away from her.

  She needed to speak to her mother. She wanted explanations, as if there could possibly be any. But not here. Not now. They’d probably be so busy arguing, or more likely not talking to each other, they wouldn’t even notice her.

  Seventeen

  JUSTIN

  Justin wasn’t happy Sophie had left before he’d had a chance to ask her how she was feeling now that the funeral was over. As if he needed to ask. Devastated – that was how she would be feeling.

  Choking back an angry knot in his ch
est, he considered this new twist in their lives, and how it was going to affect Sophie. Because if not now, at some time it would have to. Had Alicia not considered how many times she might be asked for her parents’ medical history throughout her life when she’d decided to keep this huge secret to herself? Jesus Christ. It had been so many years. Everything – their whole relationship, as well as his relationship with Sophie – was based on a lie. To her, plainly, this had been too trivial to mention. How many other things might she have lied about? How many other details might she have neglected to tell him? Like the fact that the long-lost lover hadn’t just happened to turn up after the funeral, for instance? Or that fucking party? Wasn’t it more likely that she’d had contact with him over the years?

  Following Jess and Sophie to the front door, Justin dragged a hand furiously over his neck, attempting to curtail his building anger. They would have exchanged emails, no doubt. Text messages, phone calls – the added thrill obviously being that it was all going on behind his back. Had they met up when Radley had visited the UK, which surely he would have done? She’d been away a couple of times over the years. On residential training courses pertaining to her ongoing social work training, she’d said. More probably she’d been in that bastard’s bed, the topic of post-coital conversation being their future plans.

  Christ, he felt sick.

  Breathing in hard, he forced a smile for Sophie’s sake. ‘Bye, Pumpkin,’ he said, wishing she’d unplug her earphones so he could say goodbye properly before she left. Seeing that she was distracted, obviously into her music, which she probably found therapeutic, he settled for giving her shoulders a squeeze and kissing her cheek instead.

  Sophie offered him the briefest of smiles and followed Jess out.

  Justin watched as, head bowed, she walked to Jess’s car and climbed inside the passenger side. He’d thought she might wave as they drove off, but…

  Oh God, no. Justin’s heart flipped over. He’d thought she’d been outside. He’d seen her and Chloe through the window, walking away from the house. Might she have come back earlier than he’d realised, heard him and Jess talking? Dammit! He’d needed to speak to Jess, desperately needed to speak to her, but why hadn’t he thought before broaching the subject with Sophie around?

  Cursing himself, Justin pulled out his mobile and selected her number, hoping she would pick up, relief surging through him when she did. ‘Sophie, I just wanted to apologise,’ he said quickly.

  ‘For?’ Sophie asked guardedly.

  ‘Leaving you earlier. I’m sorry, Sophie. It was a selfish thing to do. I just—’

  ‘It’s fine,’ Sophie said over him. ‘You’re dealing with shit. I get it.’

  ‘We all are,’ Justin reminded her gently.

  ‘And some,’ Sophie replied quietly, after a pause.

  ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ Justin asked, trying to read the inflection in her voice. He could feel her slipping away from him already. ‘Staying with Jess for a while, I mean?’

  ‘Yeah, it’s fine. Me not being in the way will give you two some space, won’t it?’ She sounded so indifferent. ‘Crap, battery’s dying. I’d better go.’

  ‘Okay, but ring me when you get there, will you?’ Justin asked, feeling extremely concerned by her reluctance to be drawn into conversation. Was he reading too much into it? She’d seemed all right when he’d come home, or as right as she could be under the circumstances. When she’d left, though…

  ‘Sophie?’ Realising she’d gone, Justin tossed his mobile onto the hall table and stared at it, uncertain what to do next.

  He couldn’t lose her. Above and beyond Alicia’s deceit, which was crucifying him, his gut-wrenching fear was that he would lose Sophie. She would have to learn the truth eventually. Parental medical history was so important, for pregnancy as well as future health issues. He couldn’t keep this information from her – as a doctor as much as anything else. Once she found out, he might become peripheral to her life. Imagining that bastard taking over his role, being there for her when she needed a father, was destroying him. He loved her, irrevocably. He’d loved her since he’d gone with Alicia to her first scan and glimpsed her tiny form on the monitor. She’d been his reason for focussing on the future, not dwelling on a past that was too painful to contemplate. Losing his family had almost destroyed him. He couldn’t lose Sophie. Whatever her biology, she was his daughter.

  He’d need to take a test. His heart wrenched again as that sickening thought occurred. Should he do that before confronting Alicia? He didn’t understand. Why had she stayed with him if she was still involved with this… whoever the fuck he was? Why the hell hadn’t she told him?

  Kneading a temple, he reached for his phone, selected Alicia’s number and then hesitated. She’d just buried her son. He’d just buried his son, he reminded himself, his grief almost choking him as he realised the death of the child he’d loved with every fibre of his being was in danger of becoming secondary to all of this. Was Lucas his child?

  He stopped, feeling the foundations of his life crumbling beneath him as that thought occurred. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t talk to her. Hear her voice. Feel another part of him die inside when she lied.

  Eighteen

  JESSICA

  ‘All right, lovely?’ Warily, Jessica glanced sideways at Sophie. Jessica had heard her outside in the hall, and knew she’d overheard. She’d expected her to say something at the house. Or at least mention it when Justin had rung just now. Instead, she’d got off the phone fast and immediately texted someone. So much for her battery being dead.

  God, she hoped Sophie would be all right. She’d have to try and talk to her. Jessica didn’t agree with what Alicia had done, deceiving Justin all these years, to say little of putting her in an impossible situation. Obviously not as adept as her sister at subterfuge, she’d found herself completely unable to lie to Justin’s face when he’d had asked her outright. She hadn’t actually confirmed his suspicions – it wasn’t quite as clear-cut as he’d imagined it was – but she was glad he knew now. Alicia loved him, Jessica was sure of that, but it wasn’t fair to keep a man under false pretences. Frankly, she didn’t think Alicia deserved him. It wasn’t a little lie she’d told, after all. It was humungous. She should have told Justin the truth straight away, as Jessica had urged her to. Back then, after Paul Radley had disappeared off the scene, there had been no reason not to. Honesty was surely the best policy, given the risk that Justin would find out one day. If Alicia had just been honest, they might have been able to get past it. She would never, ever have wished Sophie to find out third-hand though.

  ‘Sophie?’ Jessica reached out, giving Sophie’s arm a squeeze when she didn’t answer.

  Sophie tugged an earphone loose and looked at her questioningly.

  ‘All right, sweetie?’ Jessica asked.

  Sophie shrugged. ‘You know,’ she said, and fixed her gaze on the side window. ‘Can you do me a favour, Aunt Jess?’ she said, after a second. ‘If Mum rings, can you tell her I’m asleep or something?’

  ‘Of course,’ Jessica assured her, her heart skipping a beat. ‘Are you okay?’

  Another shrug from Sophie. ‘I just don’t want to talk to anyone. Not yet.’

  Jessica felt a prickle of apprehension run through her. Sophie would definitely need some space now, and Justin would most definitely need a shoulder.

  Nineteen

  JUSTIN

  You need to come home. It’s urgent.

  Justin placed his phone precisely down, lining it up perfectly with the edge of the table, as if that could somehow put his world back in order. Then he paused. He was less puzzled by the tiny screw on top of the hall table than the fine dusting of plaster around it.

  Instinctively, Justin glanced towards the alarm box to the side of him, and then reached to open it. It took a second to register what he was looking at; to realise, cold foreboding sweeping the length of his spine, that the two crucial wires were disconnected, meaning ther
e’d been someone in the house. Jesus. Justin’s mouth ran dry. When?

  While they were at the funeral?

  While they’d been here?

  While Sophie had been upstairs…

  ‘Fuck!’ His gut clenching, his gaze automatically shooting to the far corners of the hall, Justin froze. Images of his sister, her blood bleeding into the hall carpet, his parents, walls and white sheets stained impossibly crimson, emblazoned themselves on his mind. He took a faltering step forwards.

  And then, snatching his phone back up, he ran.

  Propelling himself into action, he slammed into the front room. Scanning it as he jabbed 999 into his phone, he registered that nothing seemed to be missing, checked the other downstairs rooms and then raced to the back door.

  Locked. He noted the key, hanging well out of sight on the hook in the utility.

  No broken panes.

  They’d come through the front door. Through the fucking front door!

  His heart rate escalating, a pulse thrumming rapidly at the base of his neck, Justin grabbed hold of the banister and swung himself upstairs to push the nursery door open. Undisturbed. Everything as still as the grave.

  Sophie’s room? It was a mess: dresser drawers open, T-shirts spewing out like hungry tongues. More mess than usual? Taking in the clothes-strewn bed, Justin had no way of knowing.

  Backing out, he headed for their own room. His pulse rate slowing, his adrenaline still pumping, he banged the door wide, stepped inside – and stopped dead.

  His blood freezing in his veins, he stepped towards the dressing table and closed his eyes. When he opened them, it was still there, scrawled in red lipstick on the mirror, scorched indelibly on his brain.