The Wife: An unputdownable psychological thriller with a breathtaking twist

by Shalini Boland

  I feel guilty for dragging her out in this vile weather with me. ‘You really don’t have to come in. Why don’t you wait in the car, stay dry?’

  ‘I don’t mind coming to give you some moral support. Make sure they take you seriously. Don’t want them fobbing you off like last time.’

  We make a run for it, dashing up the ramp and into the drab brick building.

  The reception area is empty, and a uniformed officer comes to the front desk to greet us. She looks about my age.

  ‘Celia!’ The officer smiles at my mother-in-law. ‘How are you?’

  ‘I’m fine thanks, Mandy. How’s your little one doing? Her arm healing up okay?’

  ‘Should be out of plaster by Christmas, fingers crossed.’

  Celia turns to me. ‘Mandy’s daughter broke her arm a few weeks ago. I was one of the nurses on duty when it happened.’

  ‘Sorry to hear that,’ I offer.

  ‘Could’ve been worse,’ Mandy replies. ‘Polly and her friends were daring each other to jump off the shed roof – little monkeys. I’m lucky she didn’t break her neck.’

  ‘Mandy,’ Celia says, ‘I’ve left my car parked out the front. Is that okay? We won’t be too long.’

  ‘It’s fine. Sounds like it’s hammering down out there. Anyway, how can I help?’

  ‘This is my daughter-in-law Zoe, née Williams. I don’t know if you remember, but ten years ago her sister Dina went missing.’

  She thinks for a moment. ‘Oh, yeah – Dina Williams. Last seen overseas? I didn’t have much involvement I’m afraid, but I was sorry to hear about that.’ She gives me a sympathetic smile.

  ‘Anyway,’ Celia continues, ‘this morning, Zoe thinks she saw her walking down…’ Celia turns to me. ‘Where was it you saw her?’

  ‘Not far. Just over at Bimport, past the ambulance station.’

  Mandy nods. ‘Okay, hang on, let me get the sarge.’

  A few minutes later, she returns with a police officer who I’d guess is in his early thirties. He has fair hair that’s flecked with grey and he’s vaguely familiar. ‘Mrs Johnson, hello.’

  ‘Hello,’ Celia and I both reply.

  He turns to me. ‘Not sure if you remember me. I’m Sergeant Alfie Graham.’

  The name rings a bell, and then it comes to me. ‘I spoke to you back when my sister first went missing.’ I remember thinking he looked too young to be a policeman. Now he looks more than capable. ‘How’s your colleague, Sergeant McCormack? Give her my best wishes.’

  ‘She retired five years ago. Happily tending her smallholding in Wiltshire.’

  ‘Sounds nice,’ I reply.

  ‘I’m sorry we weren’t able to help find your sister.’

  ‘Well, that’s why we’ve come to see you,’ Celia says.

  ‘Mandy told me. You think you might have seen her in Shaftesbury today?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Okay, well we’ll have a drive around, see if we can spot her. It’s a shame about the weather though. Chances of her being out in this are pretty slim. I’ll get a copy of her photo off the Missing Persons Register. We’ll also run a few checks to see if there’s any record of her moving back to the area. But that might take a while.’

  We follow him into his office, and I spend the next few minutes describing how she looked this morning – her clothing and hair, and also the man she was with. And that’s it. That’s all we can do for now. Celia and I get up to leave.

  It hurts to think that my sister may be back in town but hasn’t contacted me. Okay, so we weren’t exactly close, and we didn’t part on the best of terms, but that was all years ago. I’d have thought she would at least have wanted to speak to Dad, if not to me. I just have to hope that the police have better luck locating her than I did. And if they do, I pray that Dina isn’t in the same vindictive mood as when we last spoke.

  Ten

  THEN

  I’m twenty minutes early for my appointment so I sit in the busy waiting room, pick up a gossip magazine and start leafing through it absent-mindedly. It’s two years out of date and I haven’t heard of a single person in it, so I give up and replace it on the end table, deciding to stare out the window instead. A flock of sparrows lands on the frost-tipped hedge, hopping from leaf to leaf. They stay for a good long while until, as one, they rise up and move on to their next destination. Did they just decide to move on, or did something startle them?

  Yesterday, Toby and I returned from a two-week honeymoon in Lanzarote. Our hotel was set right on the beach and the weather was glorious. The complete opposite to a freezing Dorset winter. But, despite the weather, it feels good to be back in Shaftesbury. I’m looking forward to spending the rest of my life here with Toby. That is if I can shake this damned fuzzy headache I’ve had ever since we got married.

  The wedding reception flashed by in a blur. Toby was a dream husband, staying by my side and making sure I was happy. Celia and Malcom were the perfect in-laws, dealing with everything at the venue and checking that I was okay after my fainting episode. I danced with Toby and with my friends. I managed to avoid my ex-friend Cassie, apart from a fake hug. And thankfully my bridesmaids didn’t kill one another. Even so, I was relieved when the day was over, and Toby and I could finally be alone in our hotel room. My headache had reached epic proportions by that time, but I took some more painkillers, and I lied, telling Toby I was fine. No sense in ruining both our days.

  The pain has eased to a dull throb since then, but it’s still there in the background, overlaying everything, along with a faint sense that the world is out of kilter. It’s the reason I’m at the doctor’s today. I thought I’d better get myself checked out. Especially as I haven’t told anyone that I’m still suffering with it. Like our wedding day, I didn’t want to ruin our honeymoon, so I powered through, pretending everything was okay, dosing myself up with headache pills and staying out of the direct sun as much as possible. But it can’t go on like this. I’m beginning to worry that it might be something serious.

  Finally, my name flashes up on the screen. They’ve still got me registered as Miss Zoe Williams. I’ll have to change that at reception after my appointment. I head down the corridor to Dr Philips’ room. She’s been my GP since I was a child and I dread the day when she says she’s going to retire. She’s always got so much time for me. I never feel rushed or squeezed in like many of my friends say they feel with their doctors.

  ‘Hi, Zoe.’ Dr Philips gives me a warm smile that makes me feel a little tearful. What’s wrong with me? ‘Congratulations on your marriage. I bumped into your dad in town last week; he told me you and Toby were on your honeymoon.’

  I take a seat. ‘Thanks. We just got back from Lanzarote yesterday.’

  ‘You’ve got a lovely tan, so I take it the weather was good?’

  ‘Amazing, thanks.’

  ‘Wonderful. So, how can I help?’

  ‘I’ve got this headache; it started on my wedding day, actually. I fainted. Fell and hit my head on a desk and I’ve had a headache and felt sick and dizzy ever since.’

  Dr Philips frowns as she types into her computer. ‘How long ago was this?’

  ‘Just over two weeks.’

  ‘Did you get it checked out at the time?’

  ‘No. It was right before the wedding ceremony and I really didn’t want to make a fuss. Not with a chapel full of people and a reception booked and paid for.’

  ‘Hmm, yes, I understand. That’s bad timing. But you should have got it looked at straight after.’

  ‘My mother-in-law’s a nurse and she gave me the once over. Said I was good to go.’

  ‘Oh, yes, Celia Johnson. She works up at the hospital, doesn’t she? Okay. Are you taking any pain medication?’

  ‘I’m alternating paracetamol and ibuprofen.’

  ‘Is it having any effect?’

  ‘Not really.’

  Dr Philips nods and continues typing. ‘Loss of appetite?’

  ‘Yeah, but not all the
time. Sometimes I’m starving.’

  She opens a drawer and takes out a clear pot which she hands to me. ‘Can you go to the loo and pee into that?’

  ‘What, now?’

  ‘Yes, just quickly for me, and come straight back.’

  I nip down the corridor to the ladies loo and hurry back with the sample, nervous about what she might be checking for. Dr Philips takes the pot from me, unscrews the lid, and dips a stick into it.

  ‘Have a seat,’ she says, gesturing to the chair. I sit down as she walks back over towards me, frowning at the little stick. Finally she looks back up at me, her eyes wide. ‘Well, it seems like double congratulations are in order.’

  My stomach gives a little somersault as understanding sets in. ‘You mean…?’

  ‘Yes. You, my dear, are pregnant.’

  I exhale. ‘I wasn’t expecting that. Not at all.’ In fact it was the absolute last thing I was expecting. I thought she might say ‘concussion’ or ‘brain tumour’ or something equally scary. But this… this is scary in a different way.

  Dr Philips smiles. ‘We can work out how many months you are. Oh, and you’ll have to stop taking that pain medication. We’ll do a blood test while you’re here too.’

  I blink several times and try to work out how I feel about the news. At least it explains the reason for my exhaustion and also why I fainted on my wedding day. ‘So… this is why I’ve been feeling so strange.’

  ‘It would seem so. But let me know if that headache doesn’t go away within the next couple of weeks. And make sure you drink lots of water.’

  Dr Philips asks a few more questions and carries out a couple more tests, determining that I’m almost two months’ pregnant. I’m in quite a daze as I leave the surgery. I wonder how Toby’s going to feel about becoming a father. He’s always said he wants a family, but we were going to wait at least a couple of years before trying. He and Nick work with their dad in the family landscape gardening company and they’re busy expanding it at the moment, trying to make it more profitable. It used to be just Malcolm on his own doing driveways and gardens, but Celia suggested that their boys should get involved and make it more of a family business. I’m not sure either of them were that keen to start with, but now they both love it and Toby says it’s got potential to be really successful.

  Toby has also started campaigning to become a local councillor. Starting a family could help with that dream. At least I’m hoping he’ll see it that way.

  Outside, the light dips into dusk. I walk quickly through the bustling streets, the Christmas lights and street lamps casting a festive glow over our little town. I place a hand over my stomach and consider the new life growing there. I realise I’m excited to tell Toby. To tell everyone! I wonder what Dad will say. Whether he’ll show any emotion over becoming a grandfather. Or if he’ll take it in his stride like he seems to do with everything.

  What about my sister? I should probably tell her she’s going to be an aunt. Maybe it will heal things between us. Although probably not. I think events might have gone too far for that. I sigh and shove my hands into my coat pockets. Thinking about Dina has put a dampener on my news.

  I turn off the main road onto Gold Hill and negotiate my way carefully down the slippery cobbled road, its cottages huddled together against the chilly December evening, their lighted windows casting an orange glow across the cobblestones.

  Our little house is one of the terraced cottages at the bottom of the hill. It’s a work in progress that we’re gradually doing up, but if we’re going to have a baby in seven months’ time, we’ll have to get busy on the second bedroom.

  Toby’s pickup truck is parked outside, and the lights are on in the house. I take a deep breath and stride up to the front door, put my key in the lock and turn it. As I walk inside, I call out to my husband.

  ‘Hi, Zo, I’m in the kitchen!’ he replies.

  I normally hang my coat on the hook, but today I don’t bother, instead walking straight through to the cosy room at the back of the house, the oil-fired range doing a good job of keeping things warm. Toby’s face lights up as I walk in. He’s sitting at the small, square kitchen table but gets to his feet, cups my face in his hands and kisses me. ‘I missed you.’

  ‘Me too,’ I reply.

  ‘Wish we were back in Lanzarote.’ He gives me a wistful look and pulls me down onto his lap.

  ‘I know. It feels like a century ago. How was work?’

  ‘Cold.’ He laughs. ‘It was good to see Dad and Nick again. Oh, Mum and Dad have invited us over for dinner tomorrow night.’

  ‘Cool, what time?’

  ‘Seven-ish.’

  I get to my feet.

  ‘Hey, come back here,’ Toby says, trying to pull me down onto his lap again. But I resist as I want to see his face when I break the news.

  ‘It’s actually good we’re going to see your parents tomorrow.’

  ‘Oh yeah?’ Toby raises an eyebrow. ‘Why’s that?’

  ‘Because we might have some news for them.’

  ‘News?’

  I put a hand on my stomach, but he’s not getting the hint. ‘I went to get a check-up at the doctor’s after work today.’

  ‘Everything okay?’ His face pales. ‘You’re not still dizzy are you? After the wedding and everything?’

  ‘Well, yes I am, but there’s a reason for that.’

  ‘Oh no. Zoe, tell me everything’s okay.’ He stands and runs a hand through his short, dark hair.

  ‘Everything’s okay, but… I’m pregnant. We’re having a baby.’ My belly is fluttering with nerves.

  ‘What?!’

  My heart drops. Isn’t he pleased?

  ‘That’s… that’s fantastic news.’ A smile slowly suffuses his features.

  I exhale. ‘Really? You’re happy? I know it wasn’t what we—’

  ‘I’m over the moon, Zo.’ He kisses me and places a hand on my belly. ‘I can’t believe there’s a baby in there.’

  ‘I’m so glad you’re happy about it.’

  ‘Of course I am. It’s brilliant news. But it’s so hard to take in. A baby…’

  ‘It’s mad, isn’t it. I can’t believe it either.’

  ‘Mum and Dad will be ecstatic. And Nick. He’ll be an uncle!’

  ‘I wonder what my dad will think?’

  ‘He’ll be happy, surely?’

  ‘And Dina… I’ll have to give her a call. Tell her she’s going to be an aunty. Although she’s seven hours ahead over there so I’ll have to leave it until tomorrow morning. I wonder if she’ll come back to the UK after it’s born. I hope she does. I want her to be part of our lives.’ I realise that I mean it. It’s time we put the past behind us and moved on. If she’s willing to.

  ‘So when’s our little nipper due?’

  ‘Beginning of July.’

  ‘Amazing.’ Toby sits back down heavily, his eyes still wide, his breathing deep and slow.

  ‘Actually, I think I’m going to text Dina now. She’s a night owl so she might still be up. If not, she’ll see my message first thing tomorrow morning.’

  ‘Okay, while you’re doing that, I’ll go upstairs for a shower and then when I come down we should do something to celebrate. Go out for dinner, or a drink – oh no, you can’t drink now, can you?’

  ‘I don’t feel like it anyway. All I fancy doing is curling up on the sofa with a cuppa and some good telly – if that’s okay?’

  ‘All right, we’ll do that then. I’ll order in a takeaway.’ He shakes his head. ‘Still can’t believe we’re going to be parents! It doesn’t seem real.’

  ‘Tell me about it.’

  As Toby bounds up the stairs, I draw my phone out of my bag. Before I can change my mind, I tap out a text to my sister. If she wants to ignore it, that’s her choice. But at least she won’t be able to accuse me of keeping her in the dark.

  Hey, Dina, guess what? You’re going to be an aunty!

  There’s no reply, but that doesn’t necessarily mean a
nything. It’s almost 1 a.m. in Thailand, so she’s probably asleep. Or more likely out partying. I’m sure she’ll reply tomorrow.

  I lay my phone on the table, shrug off my coat and put the kettle on. Although I realise I’m not in the mood for tea or coffee. My taste buds must be out of whack. Instead, I pour myself a glass of water. My phone pings. Nervously, I check the screen and see that she’s replied.

  Congrats

  It’s not exactly the gushing response I was hoping for, but at least she replied. I need to keep the conversation going.

  Thanks. Think you’ll be able to make it back for a visit?

  The baby’s due in July. Dad would love to see you too.

  She responds a moment later:

  Not sure

  From her short replies, I can tell she’s still cross. But I’m the one who should be angry, not her. If I can forgive her, surely she could be a little more enthusiastic.

  I can pay for your flight home if that helps.

  Okay, thanks. I’ll think about it.

  Wow, she couldn’t be any less excited if she tried. I should never have messaged her. I knew it might be a mistake, but I stupidly thought that me being pregnant might make her realise how important family is. No such luck. I’m getting the feeling that she doesn’t ever want to come back home. The only way I’ll ever get to see her again is to fly over to Thailand and turn up unannounced on her doorstep.

  I should give her up as a lost cause. But she’s my little sister. I sip my water and try not to let this stress me out. Dina has always been dismissive, hurtful even. This is nothing new, so why do I let her upset me? I put my phone away and try to ignore the prickling tears behind my eyes. Today should be a happy day. I’m not going to let my sister spoil it. Although the rocks in my chest let me know it’s already too late for that.

  Eleven