What Goes Around: A chilling psychological thriller (28 page)

BOOK: What Goes Around: A chilling psychological thriller
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‘And this is all about getting closer to me, is it?’

‘I’m taking control of my life.’

Trying to take control of
my
life, more like, but I don’t say this because I’d be wasting my breath. I know that my relationship with David is a map of blurred, intersecting lines; I only wish that he knew it too.

I persuade him out of the door with a promise that we’ll meet very soon. ‘I haven’t forgotten about Gareth,’ he says on his way down the path. ‘I want us both to visit him again. I want to talk to him about Mum’s death.’

I give a lying nod of agreement and off he goes, happy to have legitimately got into the house. He thinks he has his foot in the door now – he hasn’t. And he thinks he has won my cooperation and that we’ll go back to see Gareth together – we won’t.

And we never will.

Next day, I wake up with Tom beside me in the bed. He’s spent the last few days avoiding me and I have no idea when he came home last night, but none of it matters because I don’t expect to be with him much longer. Until that time, though, I don’t want him moping around making my life any more difficult than it already is, so I spoon into his back and rub myself against him. It’s his favourite way to be woken up and it doesn’t take him long to put his cock first and respond to my advances. It’s not a pleasurable experience for me but it’s not awful either. I’m perfectly prepared to use my body as a means to an end.

We finish up having sex and he rolls onto his back. ‘So what have I missed?’ he says.

‘I found the jewellery box,’ I say.

‘Thank heavens! That was quite a scene you created.’

And you didn’t make it worse by shouting at me? And shouting at Katarina? Accusing her of theft and of lying?
‘I know. I’m sorry. It’s just that I need to sell my mum’s jewellery to pay for Alex’s treatment. So when I couldn’t find it I panicked.’

‘Leila …’

‘It’s okay.’ I stroke his upper arm and down to his wrist. ‘I’ll have the stones valued tomorrow and go for a quick sale.’

‘I’m not sure …’ My head is on his chest but I can hear him thinking. ‘It’s never good to part with family heirlooms. Why don’t you have them send me the bill? I’ll deal with it.’

‘Would you?’ I sit up and stare into his face, my expression girlishly grateful. I think I even manage some eyelid-batting. ‘It’s been such a worry for me.’

‘Well, now it’s taken care of.’ His hand rests in the hollow of my spine. ‘And how is Alex? We never talked about him when you came back on Saturday.’

‘He’s doing brilliantly.’ At least this is true. I sit up and smile at Tom. ‘He really is. He should be coming home this week.’

‘Then it’s money well spent.’

I almost soften towards him but not quite, because I know that he would readily let me down again. He is a man who likes to be magnanimous when it suits him. That was one of the things Ellen said to me and I see exactly what she means. And now that I know Ellen has the jewellery, I know it will be returned to me and that makes me feel calm. I can stop worrying about it.

When Tom leaves for work, I give Maurice a call. The main reason Alex and I ended up moving to Edinburgh was because Maurice had moved up here from Manchester, a retirement that quickly became a semi-retirement, as clients like me found it impossible to let him go. In the past I’ve travelled over one hundred and fifty miles for my monthly sessions with him. Wherever I’ve been living, I’ve gravitated towards Maurice for support.

When I arrive at his door, he’s waiting for me. ‘I’ve been concerned for you, Leila,’ he says. ‘Come in now. Let’s not waste any time.’

I have a lot to tell him. I start with the good news – the fact that Alex is so much better. ‘The treatment has come at exactly the right time for him. He was like a different boy when I saw him on Saturday. I’m really hopeful, Maurice. I think we’re through the worst.’

‘That’s wonderful news, Leila.’ He smiles along with me and I want to kiss him for it.

I go on to tell him about David and how he followed me to the Bridge and then the business with the jewellery and Ellen.

‘This behaviour is very concerning, is it not?’ Maurice says.

‘Ellen’s?’

‘No, David’s. Manipulating Ellen, deceiving you both. What do think his motivations were?’

I shake my head. ‘I don’t know, Maurice. He loves to have control over me. He always has.’ I shrug. ‘Quite honestly, I’m past caring. I do feel for Ellen, though. She’s a decent person who is way out of her depth with my brother. I should have given her more consideration than I did because then this could never have happened. I would have recognised her instantly and there would have been no fun in it for David.’ I sit up straight and take a deep breath. ‘I have something else to tell you.’ I take another breath. ‘I’ve made the decision to leave Tom. I know you probably saw this coming.’ He has the grace to keep his face impassive. ‘I didn’t.’ I raise my eyebrows at my own stupidity. ‘Recent events have shown me that he’s inflexible. He couldn’t handle the real me. Even aspects of the superficial me, he struggles with. So we’re going to leave Edinburgh.’

‘You and Alex?’

‘Yes. We’ll most likely settle in Paisley. Alex has a good friend over there and I feel it’s important for me to put him first.’

‘And this is not about getting away from David?’

‘I know what you’re thinking,’ I say and he gives me a gentle smile. ‘You’re thinking that one day I’ll have to stop running, and you’re right – just not now, not in Edinburgh.’ And then I remember the cat. And that leads me to Gareth. I sit, unable to speak, knowing that I have to tell him because if I don’t there’s really no point in coming to therapy. It’s with Maurice that I do my utmost to face myself. I can’t always manage it but still I keep trying.

‘I, em …’ I swallow my nerves. ‘I killed next door’s cat.’ I watch Maurice’s face mirror my own regret. ‘I’m sorry I did it.’ I bite my lip, thinking of a way to lessen the crime. ‘I didn’t take the collar, though. Gareth always took the collar but I didn’t.’ Maurice’s expression remains unchanged. ‘Mrs Patterson has been looking for him but—’ I make a gesture of hopelessness with my hands. ‘She’s not going to find him. I wonder whether I should buy her a kitten.’

‘Do you think buying her a kitten is the answer?’

‘I suppose it depends on the question,’ I say flippantly, and immediately regret it. That’s not what I’m here for. I stare down at my feet and listen to the ticking of the clock until I’ve counted to fifty. ‘We went to see Gareth yesterday, me and David. It was a strange experience because I knew he’d lost his power over me but at the same time I was afraid he hadn’t.’ I stop my hands shaking by sitting on them. ‘In the end, he didn’t scare me at all and I spent the visit trying to protect David from himself. It didn’t work and now he wants to go back.’ I bite my lip. ‘I don’t care. He can go himself if he really wants to.’

‘You don’t care?’ Maurice repeats.

‘I really don’t think I do.’ This feels like a moment of epiphany and I smile. ‘I spend my time thinking that David is the one who can’t let go of me but I think I’ve been encouraging him. And now?’ I pause to tune in to my feelings, and discover that what I feel is relief. The relief of a traveller at the end of a very long and stony road. ‘It’s over.’ I sit back on the chair and let my words sink into me, trickle through arteries and veins, settle in bones and organs. ‘Maurice!’ I take deep replenishing breaths. ‘You’re a genius.’ I stand up and kiss his cheek. ‘I could never have got here without your help.’ He hands me some water and I drink it down. ‘You do know that, don’t you?’

He acknowledges the compliment with a brief smile before saying, ‘Leila, I hesitate to give you advice but I feel it’s important to remind you not to expect too much too soon.’ There is an edge of sadness to his tone. ‘Sometimes we take two steps forward but that is immediately followed by—’

‘A step backward.’ I nod. ‘I know.’ His eyes are watching me, waiting for more. ‘I’ll be closing my practice,’ I say in a rush. ‘I’ll speak to my clients this week and explain my decision to them.’

‘You’ll begin again in Paisley?’

‘I’m not sure.’ I shake my head. ‘Actually, I really don’t think I will. I need a break from listening to other people. I want to concentrate on Alex and myself. He’ll be leading his own life soon. He’ll find a girl, get married. I might even be a granny one day.’ I smile. ‘I know you don’t have time for most of my clients, and there are plenty of therapists I can recommend, but I’m wondering whether you would be willing to see Tom’s wife Ellen? I feel I owe it to her.’

‘Of course.’ He nods slowly. ‘Give her my number.’

‘I need to get going,’ I say. ‘Thank you for making time for me, Maurice.’

He walks me to the door and we shake hands. ‘Don’t be a stranger, now.’

‘I’ll be back,’ I say, hugging him. ‘You don’t get rid of me that easily.’

He watches me drive off and I clock the expression on his face: he’s worried for me. He doesn’t believe me. He doesn’t believe that I can change, that I can let go of David and move on. I get that. I understand his reservations. I’d feel the same if I were in his shoes.

No worries. I smile and wave in his direction. I’ll just have to prove him wrong.

13. Ellen

Thursday, and Francis calls me at nine in the morning. ‘Ellen! How are you? You feeling better?’

‘Much better, thank you.’

‘I was thinking about you last night. You’re going to feel such a sense of relief when you’ve given the jewellery back to Leila.’ I know what’s coming next. ‘Why don’t you let me help you get it done?’ He’s nothing if not persistent.

‘I’ve given it back,’ I lie.

‘You have?’ He recovers well. ‘That’s great! Shall I pop in to see you after I’ve visited my mum?’

Are you really visiting your mum? Or is she a figment of your imagination? A convenient excuse to be in my neighbourhood?
This is what I don’t say. Instead I tell him that I’m taking my dad to Aberdeen to visit my uncle who is unwell. This is another lie, and I know I need to be less of a coward, but I feel like if I have a few days to think, to put the whole experience into some sort of context, then I’ll be able to tell him to piss off and never darken my door again.

I’ve already done all of my checks for the morning but the sound of his voice means I have to do them all again, socket by socket, once, twice, three times, and then take photographs on my mobile as proof. It’s time-consuming and utterly nonsensical but I’m past judging myself. The fact is that the checking makes me able to function and that’s good enough for me. I’ve shelved any attempt at exposure therapy until such time as I can think straight, and at the moment, I feel as if that might be a while coming.

I pull out my boots from under the bed and tip the jewellery into my handbag, then I jump into the car and drive. I need to bolster my confidence, my sense of myself, so take the coast road down towards North Berwick, and as I grow closer I glance seawards, waiting for my first sight of the Bass Rock. When I was growing up, North Berwick caravan park was the destination for family holidays. And every summer we would set out in a fishing boat to watch and listen to tens of thousands of gannets flocking above our heads, cawing and diving, feeding and pooing and caring for their young, all of them nesting on the rock. It was my dad’s favourite spot and his smile was never wider than when he was standing in the boat, staring up at the birds. ‘All of nature!’ he would shout to us kids. ‘In action around us! Fantastic!’

I expect to find the sight of the rock comforting, and it is, but only for a couple of breaths. I park the car and wander around the small harbour, busy with colourful fishing boats, some of them not much bigger than a family car, and I sit down on a bench to let the sea air fill my nose and my lungs. When my mobile rings, I hesitate before taking the call because it’s Leila. I wonder whether Francis is with her. Has he told her I have her jewellery? Could they be trying a two-pronged attack to get it back?

‘Mary, it’s Leila.’ I don’t speak. ‘I’m sorry you encountered a drunken me on Tuesday.’ I still don’t speak. ‘I know we didn’t schedule a further appointment but I wondered whether you would be willing to come to see me today?’

I use a second or two of silence to digest her words. ‘Why today?’

‘Well … perhaps we could discuss that when you come to see me?’

‘Are you on your own?’

She doesn’t miss a beat. ‘My brother isn’t with me.’

‘How do I know I can trust you?’

‘Ellen,’ she says, her tone significant. ‘I’m not the one who has been using my maiden name to mislead you.’

‘But you are the one who had a six-month affair with a married man before his wife found out.’ It feels good to say this and I exhale a long-held breath.

‘Fair point,’ she says.

I have to hand it to her – she isn’t easily fazed. ‘I’m less than an hour away,’ I say, glancing at my watch. ‘I could be with you by two.’

‘Perfect.’ She pauses. ‘And Ellen?’

‘Yes?’

‘I would be grateful if you could bring the jewellery with you. It was my mother’s.’

I pretend I haven’t heard that part and end the call. She’ll get her jewellery, but I’m not going to be too much of a pushover. I’d like to say my piece first and on the return journey to Edinburgh I run through the salient points in my head and practise the words out loud. When I fuel the words with anger they sound justifiably formidable. I don’t expect to shake her composure too much; I can’t imagine she’s a woman who is ever reduced to tears – but I will make my point.

I park my car directly outside Maybanks because there’s really no need to pretend now, and when I ring the doorbell to the annexe, Leila opens the door at once. ‘Come in, Ellen,’ she says. ‘It’s good to see you.’

‘Why is it good to see me? Because I have something you want?’

She looks at the floor as if chastened and then her eyes return to mine. ‘I’m sorry you fell victim to my brother’s games.’

‘I think, on balance, I’m sorrier that I fell victim to yours,’ I say forcefully. ‘Because if you hadn’t taken a fancy to my husband then I would never have met your lying, manipulative brother.’

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