‘Oh, well, hopefully I’ll catch her tomorrow.’ I check to see where Leo is – he’s in the corner, sitting on the mat with a group of children. ‘She told me after school yesterday that she was concerned about Leo. She said he was tired and falling asleep in class,’ I say in a hushed voice.
‘Oh, okay. I’ll keep an eye on him, don’t worry.’
‘Thank you, that would be appreciated.’
I feel an odd mix of relief and concern on the walk back home. On the one hand, I’m relieved I didn’t find out the reason behind Miss Emery’s strange reaction to Carl, but on the other, it’s adding to my anxiety that I’ve been unable to “put it to bed”. It might’ve been a simple explanation, like he’d let her down on her own house sale or something. But then, it might’ve been something more malign. Either way, I’m going to research other estate agents.
The silence that greets me when I walk into the house gives me a sense of déjà vu. My muscles tense. Have the switches all been flicked off again? I scramble underneath the stairs and pause with my hand over the fuse box door. It’s like ripping off a plaster.
Just do it quick.
I pull the door down.
All the switches are on. I blow out my lungful of held air. I panicked for nothing. If I’d just tried the light switches, I could’ve avoided it. As I turn to get back up, I spot a piece of black leather sticking out from under a pair of trainers. I pull at it.
‘How the hell?’ I lean back against the wall with Carl’s diary clutched in my hands. How on earth did this get here? I swear I saw him leave with it. And how come I’m only spotting it now? I’m convinced this hasn’t been here this whole time. Something very peculiar is going on.
I can’t help myself; I begin flipping through the pages. There are lots of names, addresses and phone numbers listed as well as a calendar with appointments. At first glance there’s nothing unexpected, but I could do with studying it further before handing it back. I also need time to concoct some kind of excuse as to how come it was in my house but yet I’ve only just found it. One more day without it isn’t going to hurt Carl.
I run upstairs and slide the diary beneath my mattress.
Chapter Forty
Amber
It’s finally the weekend, and I’m buzzing with anticipation for Richard’s imminent arrival. I’ve arranged for Jo and Keeley to babysit tonight, booked the Waterside Bistro in town and bought a new dress – albeit from a charity shop. It seems so long since Richard was here, my nerves are behaving as though it’s our first date all over again; I remember the anxiety that brought very well. Speaking with someone on Facebook, and then on the phone for a few months before meeting, was new territory to me. Jo had tentatively mentioned internet dating after Nick moved out, but I couldn’t bear the thought of putting myself out there in that way. But, ironically, the internet is where Richard found me.
It was luck, pure and simple. He’d messaged me through Facebook thinking he knew me from college – I had the same name as his old friend, but of course, Miller was my married name and he hadn’t realised that. His message had sat in the unread “message requests” box for several weeks as we weren’t friends. I happened across it one evening after an emotionally challenging day with Nick, whereby I’d single-handedly consumed an entire bottle of wine. When I read it, and saw his profile picture, something clicked. It was destiny. Or, so I thought in my tipsy state.
I replied telling him of the mistaken identity, but also added in things about myself and asked him questions in the hope he’d feel compelled to respond. Which, of course, he did, and things progressed from there. We met two months later midway between Devon and Kent – a hotel in Salisbury – and thankfully, liked each other as much in real life as online. We barely left his room, getting room service so we didn’t have to. We’d talked almost all night, falling asleep at around four in the morning entwined in each other’s arms. It was perfect.
I smile, remembering the way I felt the day after. Not just a new love feeling, but a kindred spirit one. We connected on a different level than I’d ever done with Nick. And there’d been no sex involved to cloud my judgement. That came later – and, admittedly, I lost myself completely to him then – his energy and performance going far beyond my hopes and previous experience.
I go to the kitchen to make yet another cup of coffee. I haven’t even drunk the others I’ve made; it’s just something to keep me busy while I wait for him. He texted at nine-fifteen to say he was leaving Kent, and mentioned he’d stop off for a break, so he should be here not long after two. He’s heading home again on Sunday afternoon, so this will be the longest period of time he’ll have spent at mine. I hope it all goes well.
Why shouldn’t it?
As much as I loathe myself for allowing it, Barb’s comments have niggled me and burrowed under my skin; she’s injected her doubt into me. I know why she’s doing it, and it fits with her other antics, so I don’t know why I’m giving headspace to her thoughts. Maybe it’s partly because my own doubts have surfaced lately. The fact I haven’t seen Richard as often, only having brief phone conversations instead, has woken my negative self-doubt demon. The voice in my head that always shouts, ‘Why me?’ Why is a good-looking, successful man interested in a woman with two children and enough baggage to fill the cargo hold of a plane with? Nick’s lack of interest in me, spending more and more time at work, then me realising his attention had been on another woman, knocked my confidence. Knocked me as a person. He caused me to question my own existence. It wasn’t a fun time.
But this is my chance to grasp some of it back again. I have to try hard not to let Barb, or anyone else, sow seeds of doubt into my mind. This is my life. Nick had his chances and blew every one of them. Barb needs to get over it. Needs to realise her perfect son isn’t so perfect after all.
Life sucks, sometimes.
My phone pings.
Just leaving Granada services, won’t be much longer. Stick the kettle on. xxx
I let out a squeal. It really is like being a teenager again, and, for now, all my concerns evaporate.
Richard is almost here.
I’m standing at the lounge window watching Leo and Finley on their bikes, riding up and down the same bit of pavement as I’ve told them not to go out of my sight, when I spot a dark blue Volvo estate car turning in. Richard’s car. A tingling sensation ripples through me as he pulls up right outside and climbs out. I rush to open the front door. I greet him with the biggest bear hug the strength in my arms can manage, then pull back to take him in; soak up the moment. It’s weird when you don’t see someone very often; it’s as though I’ve remembered him slightly differently – the image I’ve held in my mind’s eye is one that’s filtered. It’s like meeting him in the flesh for the first time again.
‘I clearly haven’t seen you enough – you’ve gone full-on Grizzly Adams with the beard!’ I realise this being my opening line, having not seen him for weeks, probably isn’t what he wanted to hear, so I quickly cover his face in kisses. ‘I love it … so rugged,’ I say.
‘I’m glad,’ he says. ‘Are you letting this rugged man in, then?’
‘Oh, yes! And I’m not sure I’m going to let you leave again.’
Finley and Leo abandon their bikes, leaving them lying on the grass verge to the side of the houses, and run over to us.
‘Hey, lads,’ Richard says, bending down to their level. ‘I picked these up for you.’ He reaches into the bag he has with him and holds up two identical toys.
‘Wow!’ Finley shouts as he takes one from Richard. ‘Cool. Can we play with them now, Mum?’
Leo’s eyes are ablaze with excitement as he hands me his toy too. Nerf Pocket Howlers. This will upset the neighbours. ‘I’ll open them for you now, but you can only throw them in the back garden, okay?’
‘Oh, I’m sorry, have I done the wrong thing?’ Richard’s face is showing concern.
‘No, not at all,’ I say, smiling. ‘They’re exactly the sort o
f things they love. I just don’t want them throwing them in the road.’
‘Good job you have a nice big back garden, then, eh?’
With the boys happily playing, we snuggle on the sofa and just take time to chat. I fill Richard in on the recent events, leaving a few details out, but I give him enough to make him realise the house doesn’t look like it’ll sell any time soon. He’s obviously disappointed and says as much. But equally, things are slow his end. He explains the situation between him and Leila – it’s the most he’s spoken about her. I find I’m weirdly uncomfortable. Jealous, even, when he talks about her. Does he feel that way when I go on about Nick? I make a mental note to stop bringing him into conversations so much.
‘So, what was your alternative plan if the houses don’t sell?’ I say.
‘Ah. Well …’ He shifts position on the sofa so he’s facing me. ‘I have a mate who lives in Eastbourne – a ninety-minute drive or so from me – and he’s off to Australia for a year’s sabbatical.’
‘Riiight,’ I say. I’m not sure I’m going to like this Plan B.
‘So, his house – it’s a mid-terraced two-bedroom place, so a bit smaller than this one – is going to be empty. He’s more than happy for you and the boys to look after it for the year. For free, Amber. It’s a no-brainer and it’ll mean we’re closer and can see much more of each other … and, more importantly, it gets you out of this house sooner.’
The way he says it strikes me as odd, although I know I have just been telling him about some of the strange goings-on here lately. But he’s obviously been thinking about this, and not merely as a result of my recent concerns. He must’ve been discussing it with this mate of his for a while.
‘But the school I was looking at is in Maidstone, and what about a job? And then we’d have to move again, once the houses were sold – it’s a huge upheaval and I don’t really want to put the boys through it all twice, Richard.’
‘I thought you couldn’t wait for us to be together?’ His face crumples.
‘I can’t wait for us to be all together in our own place. We’d still be living separately and miles apart. I mean, I completely understand your logic, and of course I’d rather be that much closer to you, but it would be a lot of extra work. Then trying to handle the house sale from further away—’
‘Okay. You don’t have to make any more excuses. I get it,’ Richard says, then pushes up from the sofa, knocking against me as he does. He walks out towards the back door, leaving me feeling guilty and ungrateful. At least he’s trying, and it goes some way to boosting my confidence that he does really want me and the boys. Bearing in mind my uneasiness about being in this house, maybe I should give it some serious thought, rather than dismissing it out of hand. I walk into the kitchen and stand behind him. We’re both silent, looking out into the darkening garden.
‘I’m coming across as an ungrateful bitch, I’m sorry,’ I say, slipping my hands around his waist and nuzzling into his broad chest.
‘And I’m coming across as a pushy twat. So, that makes us equal.’ He kisses the top of my head; his beard tickles my forehead. ‘I apologise for dropping my idea on you like that. I’ve had time to think about it, get used to it. I shouldn’t expect you to be ecstatic with the plan the first time you hear it.’
‘Let’s discuss it more over the meal tonight,’ I say positively.
‘We’re going out?’ He looks surprised.
‘Yes. I thought it would make a change – we seem to always end up eating a takeaway and I wanted to make this more of a special occasion, just the two of us. I’ve got babysitters lined up.’ I smile.
‘Oh. I’d really rather stay in and spend the evening cosied up to you, my love.’
My heart dips. I’ve been looking forward to a night out. I don’t want to be stuck inside again. My entire nightlife consists of TV and sofa these days; I wanted to dress up and feel good.
‘Oh, dear. I’m not doing well, am I?’ he says. ‘Look at that unhappy face.’ He pushes the corners of his mouth down and lifts my chin with his fingers. He stares intently at me, his deep brown eyes penetrating mine. ‘I’ve made the boys happy, but I’m doing a piss-poor job of making their mummy happy. Where have you booked?’
‘The Waterside Bistro in town.’
‘Is it likely to be filled with millennials and noise?’
‘I don’t know, Richard. I haven’t been for well over a year.’ I ensure he gets the gist of my comment. I haven’t been out properly since Nick and I split up.
‘Okay, I’ll do whatever pleases my lovely Amber,’ he says and lowers his lips to mine. Sealing the deal? Why do I feel disappointed and hurt by this visit so far? It’s not how I imagined it would be. I hope he bucks up his ideas and we have a good evening. I honestly want to say, ‘Don’t make yourself do anything you don’t want to,’ but I hold back. I don’t want our first argument. Barb’s image pops into my head, her voice loud in my mind: Beginning relationships purely online must be such hard work. It’s not as though you’ve much to go on, is it? You never really know what you’re getting.
I’d hate for Barb to be right.
Chapter Forty-One
Amber
‘We finally get to meet Mr Darcy!’
‘Shh, Jo, he’ll hear you.’ I widen my eyes in warning as I let her and Keeley in. ‘He’s not a Mr Darcy, anyway,’ I whisper. ‘More a Hagrid at the moment.’
Keeley frowns. ‘Really? That’s not how I pictured him,’ she says, winking.
I’m nervous as I walk into the lounge, my friends following behind. Richard leaps up from the floor where he’s been building Lego with Finley and Leo. I realise it’s Hogwarts. I hear Jo snigger as she notices too. I suppress my smile.
‘Richard, these are my good friends, Jo and Keeley,’ I say quickly to cover any awkwardness. I needn’t have worried though, as Richard immediately strides across to Jo, shakes her hand and kisses her cheek, then does the same to Keeley.
‘I’ve heard a lot about you both. I’m so pleased Amber has such great friends.’
After a bit of ice-breaking conversation: the usual discussions about jobs and family, Richard excuses himself from the room, saying he needs to make a quick call.
‘He’s a bit of all right, isn’t he?’ Jo nudges me, winking. ‘Must admit, his Facebook profile pic doesn’t do him justice. Barely the same guy.’
‘I’m pretty lucky, eh?’ I think I’m blushing.
‘He’s certainly manly and rugged.’ Keeley laughs.
‘And I’m glad you went for someone mature.’
‘Are you saying he looks old, Jo?’ I tease. I know that’s not what she’s meaning.
‘Not at all. He’s just got that wonderful air about him – assured and confident. He’s like a perfectly aged wine.’
I laugh, thrilled my friends seem to approve. ‘I agree.’
‘And you look stunning, Amber,’ Jo says, now giving me the once-over.
‘Thanks, love. I did make an extra special effort. I’ve even waxed my bikini line.’
‘Too much, Amber, too much.’ Jo rolls her eyes, tutting.
While I have them to myself, and the boys are occupied with building Hogwarts, I take the opportunity to bring up something that’s been on my mind.
‘Out of curiosity, do either of you know much about Davina’s husband?’
‘Well, now, isn’t this a turn-up for the books? You want to know something about someone else’s personal life?’ Jo says.
She’s right, of course. It’s pretty ironic that I’m the one now digging, trying to get info on another person’s private business when I consistently moan about Davina doing it.
‘Yes, yes. I know. But do you?’
‘Weirdly, no,’ Jo says. She looks to Keeley, who shrugs her agreement. ‘I’m not even sure I’ve ever set eyes on him.’ She looks thoughtful for a moment, obviously trying to dredge up any memory of him. ‘Nope. I’ve heard her talk about him, refer to him in conversation. But I’ve never met the
bloke.’
‘He must leave the house!’ I say, flabbergasted that between the three of us, no one can remember having seen him.
‘Maybe she keeps him chained up in there …’ Jo goes to the window and looks up and to the left, in the direction of Davina’s house.
‘Don’t say that, Jo. Stranger things have happened.’
‘See, now that would be the true irony. All these years she’s been sticking her nose into other people’s business, and all the while, she’s been the one with something to hide.’
‘Christ, you’re giving me goose bumps.’ I rub my bare arms. What if?
Another doubt flies through my mind: what if all this time it really is Davina who’s been behind the strange happenings and sabotaged viewings? She comes across as friendly, wanting to “help” but maybe it’s for her own benefit. Is she so desperate for friendship that she’d try to stop me leaving? I disregard the thought – there are other more interesting people she could befriend; I’m flattering myself.
‘Ready?’
We all start at the sound of Richard’s deep voice behind us.
‘Something I said? You all look as though you’ve seen a ghost.’ The look of concern that flashes across Richard’s face sends us all into a fit of the giggles.
‘No, love. Nothing for you to worry about. Let’s go.’
As we step outside, I link my arm in his and proudly walk towards his car. I actually want Davina to see this. I want her to know how wonderful my life is at this moment and that nothing anyone does can change that.
Let them all try to sabotage my house sale. It isn’t going to stop me being happy with Richard.
Nothing will.
Chapter Forty-Two
It was always bigger than Amber. It was bigger than all of us: those involved in this terrible affair. I came to think of it as the Pyramid of Power because of the old pyramid scheme selling model – that one person on the top who benefitted from each person below them. The one who held all the cards.
The Open House Page 14