You're All Mine

by Ruth Harrow

  Hot, prickling shame crawls over my skin. How could I have been so stupid?

  And he called me earlier today to ask for a divorce... anyone looking at my social media updates would know that today was a really important meeting. He was obviously trying to throw me off. Why call me to put an end to our marriage when I am actually driving down to the properties?

  I'll be very interested to hear what he has to say for himself...

  I step quietly out of the car and push the door closed slowly until it clicks. Then I tread carefully across the driveway, making quite sure my heels don't give me away on the hard slate.

  As steadily as I can, I slide my key into the lock and step inside my house.

  I close the door behind me, pushing it until I feel the mechanism connect and turn around.

  Other than my breathing loud in my head, I can't hear a thing. Everything is still and quiet.

  I move through all the rooms on the ground floor and check upstairs, but everything is just how I left it and I am alone in the house.

  Even after I do a visual check, I call out for my husband, but of course, I don't get an answer.

  Where the hell is he? His car is here so he can't have gone far.

  Other than the neighbouring houses, there is nowhere to go. Living here requires a car, as everything is a drive away down the country track.

  From the bedroom, I move to the window and peer out. Through the tall tips of the trees, I can note a lack of light on Ewan's driveway and together with the absence of his car, I'm guessing he isn't at home this evening, so James isn't next-door.

  From up here, I think I see a light on at Nicole's house just visible through the many branches and the early emergence of spring leaves.

  71

  I trot along the country lane, wishing halfway along that I had thought to change out of the heels I had worn to the meeting.

  Other than the low light from my best friend's house, there is no sign of life. All is quiet.

  I ring the doorbell and wait for a response. I have a brief, fleeting thought of Nicole in her conservatory in the back of the house, ignoring the bell. But if James is here for whatever reason, then she surely wouldn't be working.

  I ring again, this time pressing my thumb down twice in quick succession. I'm getting a hot, sick feeling rising up my throat that I can't put into words.

  Suddenly, Nicole's angry tone reaches my ears, muffled by the thick wooden front door of her cottage. 'All right, I'm coming! If that's you, Dean, you can just turn around right now! I'm too busy for you!'

  The sound of sliding locks reaches my ears and the door swings open so I'm face-to-face with Nicole.

  She looks as shocked as if I'd hit her in the face with something. 'Heather? Oh my goodness.' She glances behind her down the hall and lowers her voice little above a murmur. 'I thought you were in Oswestry for the night?'

  'I changed my mind. You haven't seen James have you?'

  She looks at me for a second as though she is weighing something up, then opens the door wider and gestures for me to step inside. 'Sorry – I don't know what I'm doing, leaving you standing outside,' she whispers. 'Come in.'

  I notice my best friend looks better than she has done in a while. Her hair is once again a shining flowing mass that reaches just past her shoulders and her usual application of makeup gives her that signature bright-eyed glow I'm used to seeing on her.

  She leads me down the narrow hall and directs me into the lounge ahead of her with a beaming smile.

  I cross the threshold of her living room and stop when I see James sitting miserably in one of Nicole's armchairs, a glass of wine in his hand.

  'James? What are you doing here?'

  My husband stands up abruptly as soon as he lays eyes on me. 'Heather – I thought you were away for the night...'

  He trails off and glances awkwardly at Nicole over my shoulder.

  Nicole smiles. 'James has just been telling me you've locked him out of the house.' She sits herself down on the sofa and takes a large gulp of water from her own wine glass.

  'My – my key doesn't work,' he says, looking at me strangely. 'Have you had the locks changed?'

  'Yes, I told you. Remember?' I glance across at Nicole. Am I really going to keep up the charade of my marriage if my husband has actually asked for a divorce? 'I said I thought someone was getting into the house and... doing things.'

  James sinks down into his chair again and takes a sip of wine.

  Nicole snorts loudly. 'Doing things? You're not still adamant someone is breaking into your house all the time, are you? Goodness, Heather... I thought maybe you would stop saying this once the Jones and Stanton project was over. I think the pressure has really gone to your head on this one.'

  She turns to James. 'Have you heard, James? Has she told you everything she thinks is going on?'

  Nicole takes a sly glance at me and for a moment I thoroughly hate her.

  'Heather thinks that her old school bully is getting into her house and leaving messages on her bathroom mirror, sending people to follow her in underground car parks and all the rest of it–'

  James pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs deeply.

  'That will do, Nicole. He already knows,' I lie. But the look in Nicole's eyes tells me she is confident I'm being untruthful.

  '–Have you really told him everything? I bet he hasn't heard the half of it! – I think I know you well enough by now, Heather.'

  She turns gleefully to James again and continues, 'Did you know she thinks someone stole her spare key? And that she's been getting stalker messages on social media? She thinks her secondary school bully is behind it all, don't you, Heather? That she hates you enough to move things around in your house and put aftershave in your wine. When I say it out loud, it sounds even more insane, doesn't it? Personally, I think you should lay off those sleeping pills, Heather. They aren't doing you any good at all. In fact, you're starting to sound a bit mad.'

  She shakes her head, looking at me almost pityingly. 'You know, speaking as your best friend–'

  'Are you?' I ask her sharply.

  'Am I what?'

  'My best friend?'

  'Of course. Why do you say that?'

  I shrug, breaking out in a hot sweat, heat prickling uncomfortably at my skin. The sick feeling I got when I stepped into Nicole's house intensifies. 'I don't remember telling you, Nicole, that someone spiked my wine. How do you know that?'

  She quickly looks from me to James who has sunk back onto the chair and loses her pitying expression, a horrible smile spreads across her face, instead. She is quiet for a moment, a flush rising up her own neck and spreading over her cheeks. She eventually opens her mouth and says quietly, 'Finally got there, have you?'

  72

  'It was you?'

  'I thought you already suspected me the way you don't tell me everything. But then I remembered that's just the way you are, isn't it? You like to think you are important – I bet you feel great keeping loads of secrets. I bet it makes you feel really special.'

  'Of course not.' I shake my head in disbelief. 'I can't believe this, Nicole. You're the one that has been breaking into my house all this time?'

  'Yes, it was me – and I wasn't breaking in – I knew where you kept the spare key. You told me yourself in case there was an emergency, remember?'

  'But... but I had the locks changed...'

  'Yes, that made things a little more tricky, but you had got so absent-minded you left the front door unlocked that day you just left Lilly waiting at school.'

  I stare at Nicole, open-mouthed.

  'I just wanted you to get some of the hurt back that you give out, Heather. You strut around all high-and-mighty and show off at every opportunity.'

  Nicole adopts a deliberately whiny voice. '“Look at me, I'm really special and famous. I have loads of fans online that I've never met. My life is so perfect – want to see the pictures? No? Well, I'll post them all anyway”!'

  Ja
mes cuts through the uncomfortable silence that has fallen. 'For fuck's sake, Nicole. Have you really been doing all these things?'

  Nicole shrugs, staring at him aggressively.

  'You crazy bitch...'

  'But why, Nicole,' I say, still not wanting to believe. 'Are you really that jealous?'

  'Jealous! That's a joke! No, that's not what you call it when someone works twice as hard as someone else and gets kicked in the teeth all the time. I never get incredible opportunities one after another thrown in my face!'

  She takes a big huffing breath and stares straight at me. 'Really, I haven't done that badly – I have my own accountancy business and I own my own house. But when people see you, Heather, strutting around telling everyone how amazing you are – jetting off around the world and splashing it all online to rub everyone's face in it, it makes me look like a total loser! My own parents even said to me once, “it's a shame you didn't go into the same business as Heather – she's doing so well for herself, isn't she?”. And Dean was there too – and he agreed with them. Can you believe that?!'

  I do nothing but shake my head.

  Nicole's face is fully flushed now and her eyes are shining with tears – it seems like she has been seething about this for years, but for some reason, it has taken this long for it to bubble up to the surface.

  'Nicole... I never meant to make you feel bad. I just thought I was keeping everyone updated via social media – and it's part of the job – trying to get attention – it is all about attracting new clients.'

  'No, admit it, Heather – you love to show off. You don't miss an opportunity to rub everyone's noses in how great your life is.'

  'I can't believe you even think that – and that is your excuse for trying to make me think I'm going mad. You've done all of this to try and get at me... like inviting Lisa to dinner to stress me out – and letting me think she has been behind all this the whole time... So it wasn't her that ruined the carpet order?'

  Nicole shakes her head slowly.

  'Oh my God. All these little things – like plugging the kettle into the timer switch – you could have burned the house down!'

  James lets out a low hissing noise.

  I shake my head, still disbelieving. My mind runs through possible theories for Nicole not to have been responsible for every odd little thing that has happened to me these past few months.

  I look at Nicole critically, as though she will suddenly smirk and declare the punchline. But she doesn't.

  A thought suddenly occurs to me. 'The message on the bathroom mirror – that can't have been you too...'

  A smirk spreads across her face and I detect something that almost looks like guilt.

  I fold my arms across my chest as reality sinks over me like cold water. My voice comes out in barely more than a whisper. 'How long have you been secretly punishing me for, Nicole?'

  Her wide smile returns now and she glances gleefully at James.

  I look to James too, who is now perched on the edge of his chair. 'What message is this?' He looks from me to Nicole as though afraid of what she will say next.

  Nicole fixes James with a cold stare. 'I was right, wasn't I? No, I didn't think Heather had told you everything that has happened to her lately. I know she has been pretending that you two are still blissfully married, but I know better, don't I?'

  I feel my face flushing now and my temples tighten, threatening a headache.

  'That's enough, Nicole,' James says threateningly.

  'Is it? I'm not even started yet.'

  James stands up abruptly. 'Heather, why don't we go home, eh? We can have a proper talk since we're both here.'

  Nicole cuts across him loudly. 'Yes, Heather, I did write that message on your bathroom mirror, but the message wasn't meant for you.'

  'Not meant for me? But I thought it was me you were trying to get at... and you knew James wasn't really in the house at that time. So who else could it have been for?'

  Nicole snorts as she turns to James.

  I feel a sudden rush of annoyance towards her. I've always hated how she loves the limelight, milking sentences with her diction and dramatic pauses.

  'That message was actually meant for you, James,' Nicole says slowly and deliberately as though she is on stage. 'But like your soon-to-be-ex-wife here, you missed it. You were obviously too caught up in your own head to see what was in front of you. Like her. You know, you are almost as self-centred as she is – maybe you two weren't such a bad match, after all.'

  'What are you talking about?'

  James shakes his head dismissively. In an undertone to me, he mutters, 'Look, let's just go OK. She is talking rubbish.'

  'No, I want to know why she has done all this when I thought she was my best friend.'

  'I was your best friend, Heather – for years. But you've treated me like nothing. Like on the day you had your big interview. Do you remember? I said I needed cheering up in my text, but you didn't even ask why. I could have told you everything then...'

  'Told me what?'

  James moves forward and grips my elbow gently. This time his muttering is more urgent. 'Come on, let's just get out of here.'

  I pull my arm away from him. 'No, I want to know.'

  'I think it's time you did know. You see, Heather, the message I wrote on the mirror wasn't meant for you at all. I wrote it for James when I spent the night at your house while you were busy in Milan.'

  'Spent the night... I don't understand...'

  I look at James who has his features arranged into an utterly mortified expression and a red blotchy flush is spreading rapidly from his neck to his thick cheekbones.

  The hot, sick feeling I couldn't place now returns with a sudden impact as the realisation hits me.

  I remember the words as though they are still burned in front of my vision.

  You're all mine...

  Nicole starts talking again, but her words don't sink in properly. 'James must not have seen it. He was supposed to notice it and rub it off. Unless he wanted you to see it. But I don't think so. He was determined to cover it all up, make sure you didn't find out what we had done. But you had to find out sooner or later, didn't you, “Bestie”?'

  Nicole stares at me for a few moments. 'You really got lucky with James, Heather – he's a great husband, but you've treated him like shit – just like you did with me. He might as well have been one of your fans who was lucky enough to be allowed to live with you.'

  My knees are weak and I sink down onto the nearest available seat. James's unfinished wine sits upon the coffee table and I reach for it and take a large gulp.

  From seemingly far away I hear my husband's voice. 'I think you've said enough now, Nicole. Give it a rest now, eh?'

  'Oh have I, James? And don't look at me like that, either. All this isn't my fault.'

  'Oh yeah? Whose fault is it then, Nicole?'

  'You told me Heather treats you like a stranger. Never talking to you because she's always too busy on her computer – ignoring you when you were in the house together.'

  I manage to find the words, but the stranger's voice inside me seems to speak on my behalf because I sound unrecognisable. 'Is that why?' I look at James. 'You slept with Nicole because I've spent too much time working?'

  James shakes his head. 'No... that is no excuse, I know that.'

  'Then how did it happen?'

  James seems to struggle for words, but Nicole comes to his aid. 'It was when you were in Milan. You abandoned us both, despite the fact your marriage was strained to say the least and I was suffering through my breakup with Dean. But as usual, your career came first. I saw James just sitting in his car on your driveway, staring into space. I went over and consoled him, gave him the attention you wouldn't. And at first, he felt much better, didn't you, James?'

  He shakes his head, his jaw set.

  'I thought for a while we might be together, but then James starting ignoring my messages – I guess he learned from the best.'

 
I stare at Nicole as though I've only just seen her properly for the first time.

  'One night, I managed to get him here. Didn't I, James? Couldn't ignore me that time, could you? It was that night you sent a text to him saying you had burned dinner and made the whole house smell. You sounded so desperate in your text – telling your husband how much you miss him when he has run off and left you. It was me that texted back, by the way. I deleted the messages from his phone straight after. Anyway, I had told him that if he didn't drive over right away and see me, that I would go over and tell you everything.'

  I think of the text I had received on that occasion. Like the mirror-message, the words are still burned into my mind: Why do you keep doing this, Heather?

  That night, I was so convinced I heard James's car outside that I rushed over to the window to see headlights sailing past. So it was James, after all. But he wasn't coming home to visit me...

  My eyes blur and I feel angry with myself. 'So you were together again? That night?'

  'Nothing happened,' James insists, looking at me imploringly. 'She was drunk. Talking nonsense. Just looking to pick a fight.'

  There is silence, punctuated only by the ticking of the vintage carriage clock I gave Nicole a few Christmases ago; although, it feels like it could have been twenty years ago now.

  'It is a shame, Heather, that your picture-perfect marriage has fallen apart, isn't it? If you weren't getting divorced and weren't so forgetful, you might have made a half-decent step-mum to mine and James's child.'

  73

  'What?' I look at Nicole and then to James, who has his mouth open in shock, a look of utter confusion on his face.

  My mouth has gone suddenly very dry. 'James.... he is the father?'

  James still looks confused. 'Wait, what are you talking about now, Nicole?'