My heart is still racing with stress and I still can’t quite let my guard down. Not yet. ‘What about this weekend? Why didn’t she want me to have Freya and Beth?’
‘Because I asked her if she’d mind if they didn’t come over. I wanted you to have a break. You’ve been working so hard, and this party seems to have added a layer of worry to everything.’
‘It’s not the party, it’s the thought that you were lying to me and keeping secrets.’
‘But—’
I hold my hands up. ‘It’s okay, I can kind of understand why, now, but you can see why I was so distant this weekend.’
‘Yes, of course, it must have been— Oh, shit, the potatoes!’ He reaches over and turns off the hob, staring into the pan.
‘Don’t worry. We can mash them,’ I offer.
Suddenly we’re both laughing, and he takes me in his arms and gives me a hug which turns into a kiss, which quickly grows deeper. He takes my hand and leads me upstairs. I check on the children, who by some miracle are both asleep, and Toby and I fall into bed. We haven’t had sex this spontaneously for months.
Somehow, against all the odds, everything seems to have turned out right once again.
Afterwards, when we’re back downstairs having another glass of wine and trying to salvage the ruins of our dinner, I push away the tiny voice that wonders if Toby was being entirely truthful.
Thirteen
EIGHTEEN YEARS AGO
I stand on the wooden porch, knocking on the door impatiently, hoping and praying that my best friend Cassie is home. She doesn’t have a Saturday job, so she’ll either be revising or she’ll have gone shopping in Salisbury. I can’t wait to tell her my news.
At last, she pulls open the door, dressed in leggings and a baggy sweatshirt, her blonde curls pulled into a messy bun on top of her head. ‘Zoe!’ she squeals. ‘I didn’t know you were coming over.’ She flings her arms around me and we hug, even though we only saw one another yesterday. ‘I’m so happy to see you – French revision is doing my head in. Quick, let’s go upstairs before they come out of the kitchen and start trying to be sociable.’
I giggle. Cassie’s parents are lovely, and they always show such an interest in me and my life, but Cass hates it when they start talking to her friends. I think she’s embarrassed by them. If you ask me, she’s lucky. I’d rather have enthusiastic parents like that than disinterested ones like my dad. Not that I don’t want my dad. It’s just… it’s complicated. I follow Cassie up to her bedroom where she closes the door and bounces onto her king-size bed.
The floor is littered with books, clothes and make-up. I pick my way through the debris, slip off my shoes, and sit cross-legged on the bed next to her. ‘Revision not going so well?’
‘Ugh, kill me now. Can we please fast-forward to July when all our exams are over, and we have nothing but weeks of chilling out in the sunshine?’
‘Yes, please. I can’t wait.’
‘Why aren’t you at Waves?’ She always does a little wave with both hands when she says it. ‘I thought you were working today.’
‘I was. I’ve finished – it’s almost six o’clock.’
‘Is it? I thought it was about four. I’ve been swallowed up by revision all afternoon. Don’t know why I’m bothering because I don’t even need A-levels. It’s not like I’m going to university or anything, even though Dad’s now trying to bribe me to go.’
Cassie’s parents have said they’ll give her cash if she does well in her A-levels. They’re giving her a thousand pounds for every A grade she gets, and then she’s on a sliding scale for lower grades. It’s the only reason she’s bothering to study. Now it seems they’re trying the same tactic to get her to go to uni. I doubt it will work though – she’s got her heart set on heading to London and ‘making it big’. If anyone else had told me this was their plan, I’d have been sceptical, but if you knew Cassie Barrington, you’d instantly realise that she has the X factor. That certain something that draws people in. She’s magnetic, and I have no doubt she’ll achieve what she sets out to do. She always does.
‘Anyway, Cass, listen, I’ve got some news.’ I lean forward, excited to tell her about the strange ending to my day.
‘Ooh, is it about Lou Schiavone and Matthew Dern? I heard they started going out, but he’s only just broken up with Katy.’
‘I didn’t know that. Tell me all about it, but not right now because I need to tell you what happened today.’
She pouts at being distracted from the gossip on our friends, but I give her a fake glare, so she nods at me to carry on.
‘Okay, so this woman from the college came into the salon today, her name was Sally something or other, and—’
‘From the college? Our college?’
I nod. ‘Anyway, she runs the marketing department there and she said she was impressed with the cancer fundraiser I organised.’
‘Cool.’
‘I know, right. And then she said she loved the piece I wrote in the local paper for the salon.’
‘What piece?’
‘Oh, yeah, I wrote something for Jennifer. It was an article to go with an advert for Waves. But that’s not the important thing. The important thing is that she’s asked me to come for an interview for a job!’
‘A job? What, you mean at the college?’
‘Yep. It’s a trainee PR job – that’s public relations.’
‘I know what PR is.’ Cassie rolls her eyes.
‘Oh, okay, sorry. It’s just that I didn’t know what it was at first.’
Cassie laughs and gives my shoulder a light shove. ‘So she asked you to go for an interview for a job and you don’t even know what it means? Honestly, you’re hilarious, Zo. She must’ve thought you were a right muppet.’
‘I did feel a bit dorky, but she was so nice and said she thought I’d be good at it.’
‘Did you tell her you’re planning to work at Waves?’
‘I did. But the job she was talking about seems so amazing. It’s all about creating publicity for the college and building up its profile. It could be a really exciting career.’
‘So does she actually want to give you the job then?’
‘No, I have to go to the interview. But she seems to think I’ve got a really good chance of getting it, what with the success of the charity fundraiser and everything.’
Cassie nods thoughtfully. ‘Yeah, we did make a really good job of that, didn’t we?’
‘So what do you think?’ I really want my friend’s seal of approval. ‘I’m so tempted to go for it. All I have to do is fill in the form she gave me or apply online.’
‘If you think you could cope with it, then I’d say give it a go. I mean, if it doesn’t work out, it’s not the end of the world.’ She frowns. ‘Although… what about Waves? Wouldn’t you be letting them down? Didn’t you already agree to work for them? It might not look very professional to change your mind.’
‘I know.’ I twiddle a strand of hair. ‘Ugh, why are decisions so stressful?’
‘Maybe because it’s not something you’re sure about. I mean, if you were passionate about it, it would be a no-brainer. You’d go for it. Like when Jennifer offered you the position at the salon, you jumped at the chance.’
‘Yes, but that was because there was no alternative. It was pretty much my first and only option.’ I start chewing the strand of hair.
‘True.’ Cassie looks thoughtful. ‘Well I guess it can’t hurt to go for the interview. If they offer you the job and you change your mind, you can always turn it down.’
‘Exactly!’ I feel a sudden relief. ‘I’ll just take it one step at a time.’
‘In fact’ – Cassie gives me a grin – ‘you know what might be fun?’
‘What?’
‘If I apply for it too. If you don’t mind, that is. I mean, I’ve probably got no chance, but I’d love to give it a go. After all, I did help organise that fundraiser, so I guess I’d be just as qualified.’ She leans back
against the headboard and closes her eyes for a few seconds. ‘Oh, this is so exciting – our very first job interviews! We can prep for it together!’
I’m shocked by Cassie’s suggestion that she should apply too. The charity event was my idea and hard work; Cassie just helped on the night. But I don’t want to come across as mean-spirited. What kind of a friend would I be if I stood in her way?
‘Yeah, of course you should apply too.’ I try to sound more enthusiastic than I feel. ‘But I thought you wanted to go to London and become a famous superstar?’
‘Yeah, well, that’s the plan, but it would be a lot easier to do that if I got some PR experience. It would give me loads more credibility. I could get the job here and then find a PR job in London. Meet some influential people who could help with my career. It’s actually quite perfect. Anyway, I thought you wanted to be a hairdresser. That’s your dream, isn’t it? And you’d be so good at it. You’re such a creative person, Zo.’ She squeezes my arm.
I suddenly realise that my short-lived dream of a new and exciting career in PR might be over before it’s begun. I doubt whether I’m good enough to get this job when people like Cassie will also be applying. Of course, I’ll still go for it and give it my best shot, but – realistically – what chance do I really have of landing it? While Cassie’s face is radiant with excitement, my earlier optimism is crumbling by the second, my stomach knotting up with doubt. I hadn’t realised how much I wanted the job until now.
Fourteen
NOW
‘Oh my goodness, Zoe, it’s so lovely to see you! It’s been far too long!’ Cassie Barrington sweeps into the salon, her curly blonde tresses cascading over the shoulders of her pale-pink faux-fur coat. Everyone’s head swivels in our – or should I say her – direction. She’s always had that effect on people. Jennifer in particular is thrilled about Cassie’s hair appointment at Waves, and I don’t blame her. The salon is crazily busy in the run up to Christmas, but thanks to Cassie’s visit, Jennifer will now be able to create some great publicity in the slower months of January and February.
‘Hi, Cassie, how are you?’ I force out a smile, sure she must sense my insincerity.
‘Oh, you know, same old. But, more importantly, how are you? I can’t believe I’m here, back in our lovely little town!’ She dimples, leaning in to kiss my cheek, and I’m obliged to reciprocate, catching a waft of something expensive and seductive. Noticing at the same time that her skin is smoother than my nine-year-old daughter’s. The last time I had a proper conversation with Cassie was back when we were at college together. Of course, she also came to my wedding, but we barely spoke that day, or if we did, I don’t remember. She doesn’t look as if she’s aged at all since then. In fact, she looks younger, if that’s possible. Fresher. Sleeker.
Our receptionist Mia takes Cassie’s coat and helps her into a gown. It’s obvious Mia’s starstruck by the way she’s gawking. Cassie thanks her graciously with a flash of perfectly white teeth, that somehow manage to not be too white.
‘Come and sit down.’ I lead her over to a chair by the window, as per Jennifer’s instructions earlier – The more people who see her in here the better, my boss had said. ‘Would you like a drink? Tea, coffee or a glass of Prosecco?’
‘Do you have any Perrier?’
‘No, but we’ve got Hildon. Still or sparkling?’
‘Sparkling please.’
I send Lily, one of our juniors, to fetch her drink while I swallow my nerves and face Cassie in the mirror. I’m braced for a lightly mocking smile or some faintly passive-aggressive comment, but her demeanour is open, her smile genuine.
Cassie became semi-famous after she starred in a reality TV show back when she’d just turned twenty. Now she’s an occasional TV presenter who also writes a regular column in a magazine, as well as appearing on various panel shows.
She leans back in her chair. ‘I can’t believe we lost touch for so many years, Zo. But seeing you here again feels like it was just last week that we used to hang out at each other’s houses. I really miss that.’ Her voice seems to catch with emotion, but I can’t imagine how she could be that choked up to see me. Not after how she more or less ditched me as a friend after she got what she wanted.
The emotions are all so fresh in my mind – how she treated me back then: so casually, as though my own life was secondary to hers. How I was always the one who had to stand aside to make way for her life.
Of course, as I half expected, Cassie was offered that wonderful PR job at the college. She didn’t exactly steal it from me, but it was pretty damn close. Looking back, I guess if I’d really wanted a career in PR, I could have pursued it more aggressively. I could have looked for another position and I could have turned down the job at Waves. But I was young, with no idea about how to go about finding another opportunity like that. And Dad wasn’t focused on helping me with my education or career – he just let me get on with whatever it was I was doing at the time.
When I discovered that Cassie had got the job, my initial reaction was extreme disappointment and disbelief, followed by a strange sort of relief that I could carry on with my existing plan to work for Jennifer. And, as it turns out, I love my hairdressing career. It’s fulfilling and creative and I’m bloody good at it.
But that’s not the point. The point is that my then best friend shafted me. She manoeuvred her way into a fantastic opportunity at my expense. Cassie got the job, but only stayed for a year until she had enough experience to land a PR job in London, leaving the college without a backward glance. Then she used her PR contacts to get a place on a reality TV series.
A couple of years afterwards, I ran into Sally Bennett from the college and she confided that she wished she’d given me the job instead. But her boss had been won over by Cassie’s apparent confidence. Sally told me that after an initial month of enthusiasm (which coincidentally was the same length as the trial period) Cassie had been terrible at her job – lazy, constantly late, and always taking sick days. After she quit, there had been no more appetite or money to develop a PR department, because Cassie had driven the job into the ground.
With Cassie here sitting in front of me, I try to put all that out of my head, but it’s not easy. ‘So how did you end up coming back to Shaftesbury for a haircut? I thought you’d have a posh London hairdresser.’
‘Well, I did, but annoyingly he’s gone off travelling for a year with his girlfriend – how dare he, right?’ She gives a short laugh to let me know she’s joking. ‘I’m back here to visit the parents so I thought I’d make an appointment for old time’s sake – and catch up with you, of course.’ Lily returns with Cassie’s sparkling water and sets the bottle and glass on the little shelf in front of the mirror. Cassie thanks her and then refocuses her attention on her flawless reflection.
‘So what are we doing with these locks today?’ I take a section of her hair in my hands and examine the ends. ‘It’s in amazing condition and the colour looks great. So… a trim?’
‘Well…’ She tilts her head and gives me a mysterious smile. ‘I was thinking of something a little more drastic.’
‘Oh?’
‘Like a pixie cut.’
‘Very funny.’ I look at her luscious long blonde waves and think there’s no way on earth she can be serious.
‘I’m not joking. All this hair is driving me mad. Plus I need to shake up my image, get people talking about me again, you know?’
Actually, I don’t know, but I guess that’s the nature of her work. She has to constantly stay in the forefront of people’s minds to maintain her profile. ‘I see what you’re saying, but a pixie cut is pretty extreme. There are so many other styles that would look incredible on you and still make people sit up and take notice.’
She gives a little pout. ‘But why do half measures when we can go all out?’
Normally, I love having the opportunity to do hair makeovers. It’s fun and rare to get people brave enough to go for total restyles. But in this inst
ance, I’m suddenly and inexplicably nervous. This is my ex-best friend, plus she’s a celebrity. What if I screw it up? Although I’ve never screwed up a cut before – well, not since I was a junior anyway. ‘It’s absolutely your call,’ I say carefully. ‘I just want to make sure you’ve given it enough thought.’
‘Oh, believe me, I’ve been thinking about it for ages.’
‘Everything okay?’ Jennifer has wandered over to check up on us. ‘Cassie, can I get you anything else besides the water?’
Cassie gives my boss one of her megawatt smiles. ‘We’re all good, thanks. I love the rustic Christmassy vibe in here, it’s so cute.’
‘Thank you.’ Jennifer almost looks flustered, which is a first.
‘Cassie wants to have a pixie cut.’ I decide it can’t hurt to have another opinion.
‘Really?’ She stares at Cassie critically for a moment. ‘With that bone structure I think it would be a knockout!’
Cassie beams. ‘I’m so pleased you approve. Zoe here is being a bit of a wet weekend about it.’
‘Erm, excuse me!’ I fake an outraged tone.
‘Well, you are! Come on, be excited. You’ll cut my hair fabulously and then everyone will talk about it, and I can tell them what an incredible hairdresser you are. It’s a win-win situation.’
I inhale as Jennifer gives me a meaningful stare and mouths at me to do it.
I finally let myself be excited about this. Cassie does have the perfect face for ultra-short hair. If anyone can carry it off, she can. She spends the next few minutes showing me photos on her phone of the type of cut she’s got in mind, and we finally settle on a definitive style. I ask her if she’d like to donate her hair to charity. She absolutely loves that idea and takes a selfie, which she posts on Instagram to her two hundred and sixty thousand followers with the caption: Watch. This. Space.
I feel a little queasy at the thought of all those people witnessing my hair skills. But then I put it out of my mind. ‘Okay, because you’re donating it, I’ll plait it first, all right?’
The Wife: An unputdownable psychological thriller with a breathtaking twist Page 9