The Wife: An unputdownable psychological thriller with a breathtaking twist Page 13

  Half an hour later Celia and Malcolm are ensconced in our living room with snacks, drinks and the remote control. The children – who were already tucked up – heard their grandparents’ arrival, jumped out of bed and rushed down to see them. So Celia declared that normal bedtime could be abandoned, and they could choose a movie instead. Alice and Jamie are now curled up on the sofa, but I’m betting that they’ll both be fast asleep within half an hour of the film starting.

  Toby and I pop into the living room to kiss the kids goodbye. ‘Thanks so much,’ I say to my in-laws.

  ‘It’s our pleasure,’ Celia replies.

  ‘We won’t be late,’ I promise.

  ‘Take your time,’ Malcolm says.

  ‘How was the town hall thing?’ Toby asks his mum.

  ‘Town hall thing?’ I glance from Toby to Celia.

  She shrugs. ‘I went with Madeline to meet the planners earlier today. We gave them the petition for the appeal against the woodland development. It went fine, but we won’t hear anything for a day or two.’

  ‘Fingers crossed,’ I say. ‘They need to know how much opposition there is to it.’

  ‘Absolutely!’ Celia puts an arm around Alice, who snuggles into her grandma’s side. ‘Anyway, enough about that. You two go and enjoy your evening.’

  ‘Have fun, you two,’ Malcolm says, as we blow them all kisses and head out of the door with a rare feeling of celebration.

  Thankfully, the rain has ceased. Instead, the air is fresh and cold, clearing my head and banishing any residual sleepiness. The pub is only a minute’s walk down the road, but the narrow pavement is slippery, and I hang on to Toby’s arm for support.

  ‘I’m glad we’re doing this.’ Toby leans in and kisses the side of my head.

  ‘Me too. I’m starving though. Think I’m going to have their mushroom hotpot.’

  ‘Shepherd’s pie for me. And a nice cold pint.’

  As we reach the brick-built pub, I glance through the leaded windows at the cosy orange glow within. Toby opens the porch door and I follow him into the warm, noisy interior, buoyed up even more by the sound of laughter and the delicious aroma of award-winning pub grub. We wave to Mike and Lucy behind the bar. They took over the pub three years ago and managed to turn it from an okay place to one of the best eateries in town. Consequently, it’s always busy. Tonight is no exception.

  ‘Those two look like they’re leaving.’ Toby nods in the direction of an older couple at the far end of the room, next to the wood burner. They’re vacating two chesterfield tub chairs that I know from experience are the comfiest seats in the whole place.

  ‘Quick, quick,’ I hiss, glancing left and right. ‘Let’s grab that table.’

  We giggle like teenagers as we thank the departing couple and sink into our newly claimed seats with sighs of bliss. Toby stands up again and lays his coat over the arm of the chair. ‘What do you want to drink?’

  ‘I’ll have a pint of pale ale.’ I unzip my coat and hold my hands out toward the wood burner that’s emitting just the right amount of heat.

  ‘And the mushroom hotpot?’

  ‘Yeah; and get some crisps for while we’re waiting.’ I giggle again, feeling giddy with our sudden escape from domesticity.

  While Toby’s at the bar putting in our order and chatting to Mike, I glance around to see if I can recognise anyone. There are a few semi-familiar faces, but no one I know that well. I’m finally warm enough to wriggle out of my coat. I resist the urge to look at my phone. Tonight is about relaxing. Before too long, Toby returns with our beers. We clink pint glasses and take long sips. He drops two bags of salt and vinegar crisps onto the table and I tear one of them open and take a handful.

  ‘Well, this is nice,’ I remark.

  ‘Yeah, definitely one of my better ideas.’ Toby grins. ‘Are we good?’

  I frown. ‘Good?’

  ‘Yeah, you know, after the whole Madeline thing.’

  I feel my blood pressure rising just at the mention of her name. ‘Shall we not talk about that tonight?’

  ‘Fine by me. But…’ He hesitates. ‘I was going to tell you about the surprise.’

  ‘What surprise?’

  ‘You know, the one I was talking to Madeline about that day.’

  ‘Oh.’ I’ve been trying to put that day out of my head. I hadn’t been sure if Toby was being entirely truthful, or whether he was making up a ‘surprise’ to throw me off the scent of whatever else they might have been doing. Thinking about the whole incident was making my head hurt. I decided that I preferred to forget about it and give him the benefit of the doubt. After all, I really couldn’t picture him and Madeline together. I couldn’t imagine him betraying me, as well as his brother. It would be beyond reprehensible.

  It seems that all our topics of conversation tonight are going to be minefields. Perhaps we should have stayed in and watched TV after all.

  ‘Okay. So, what’s the surprise?’ I take a sip of my beer and wish there was no surprise at all, and that he’d never had to meet up with my sister-in-law.

  ‘It’s a good one,’ he reassures me, sensing my distrust. ‘As well as our party on the Friday night, we’re going to have a posh mini-break! We’re booked in to stay at the hotel for two nights, along with Madeline, Nick, and my mum and dad. And Mum’s booked treatments at the spa on the Saturday afternoon for you, me, Madeline and Nick!’ He pauses while he waits for me to digest the news. ‘So? What do you think? Madeline helped Mum to book it all.’

  ‘Wow.’ I realise that came out sounding less than excited. Ordinarily, this would be an incredible surprise. A real treat. Right now, it feels like too much. But I can’t let Toby see how I’m feeling, so I take a breath and try to act really happy. ‘Toby, that’s amazing! Thank you.’

  ‘So, you like the surprise?’

  ‘I love it.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes, thank you so much. Just one thing – what about Alice and Jamie? We can’t very well leave them on their own all weekend. I know your Aunty Vivian has said she’ll miss the party and take care of the kids for the evening, but what happens after that? We can’t expect her to have them for the whole weekend.’

  ‘All sorted.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yep. Aunty Viv has already agreed to it. Which also means we don’t have to pack up a load of stuff for them.’

  ‘That’s so good of her.’

  ‘I know.’

  Viv is Celia’s sister. She lives just over an hour away in Poole. She’s widowed with no children of her own, but she’s great with Alice and Jamie, so that’s perfect. Luckily, I’d already booked Saturday off work, so it seems like everything really has been taken care of. The more it sinks in, the more I’m starting to think that this weekend break might actually be really good fun. I mean, if Madeline is coming away with us for the weekend too, then perhaps she really is fine with me, and I’ve blown things out of proportion.

  ‘We should probably invite my dad to stay for the weekend, too,’ I suggest. ‘I doubt he’ll say yes, but I’d feel bad if we left him out. Especially as your mum and dad are coming.’

  Toby puts the heel of his hand on his forehead. ‘I’m so stupid, of course we should invite your dad. Sorry I didn’t think of it before.’

  ‘No, it’s fine. Like I said, I’m sure it’s not his thing anyway.’ I suddenly feel a surge of contentment wash over me. ‘You’re an amazing husband, Toby. Sorry I’ve been a moody cow lately.’

  He tuts. ‘Don’t be silly, course you haven’t.’

  I raise an eyebrow.

  ‘Okay, maybe a little bit.’ He grins. ‘But you’ve been stressed. Don’t worry about it.’

  ‘Thank you. For everything.’

  ‘You’re worth it, Zo,’ he says softly. ‘Happy anniversary.’

  ‘Happy anniversary.’ We lean across the small round table and kiss.

  ‘Aww, look at you two lovebirds. Married for ten years and still snogging like teenagers
.’

  Toby and I break off and look up at a group of around half a dozen people grinning down at us. I recognise a few faces, but my whole body tenses when I realise who’s just spoken.

  Cassie Barrington is standing before me, wearing skinny jeans, biker boots and a military-style olive-green parka. The whole get-up designed to draw maximum attention to her new short hair style. Her arm is looped through a dark-haired model-type who I assume is her boyfriend and it seems she’s gathered together an entourage of old school friends. Thankfully my good friend Lou isn’t among them, but I spot Danny and a few other familiar faces who barely make eye contact with me. I can’t help wondering what Cassie’s been saying to them. Whether she’s been bad-mouthing me. A sudden rush of insecurity catapults me back to my schooldays, when I remember her playing these sorts of subtle mind games. I’m too old to deal with all this shit again.

  As I bristle, Toby reaches across the table to place a warning hand on my arm. I shake him off as I glare up at Cassie.

  ‘You’ve got a nerve.’ I pick up my pint and take a couple of slow sips.

  Eyebrows raise, and a few of her clique back away and lift their hands in mock surrender.

  Cassie smiles and shakes her head. ‘Chill out, Zoe. It’s just a silly little magazine column. No biggie. I didn’t think you’d mind a bit of artistic licence.’

  ‘Tell that to Jennifer. That’s her business you were trashing. Not to mention my reputation as a hairdresser. You asked for that hairstyle and I tried to steer you away from it. What you posted was a bare-faced lie. And anyway, the haircut looks incredible and you know it.’

  ‘Thank you.’ She bobs a little curtsey.

  ‘It wasn’t meant as a compliment to you.’

  ‘Oh, come on, Zo. Cut a girl some slack. I was nearing my magazine deadline and had a case of writer’s block. You have to admit, it makes for great reading.’

  ‘So you thought it would be okay to step on me and Jennifer to get yourself out of a hole? Nice, Cassie. Good to see you haven’t changed.’

  ‘Woah.’ She raises her hands. ‘I only came over to introduce you to Lyle and buy you and Toby a drink, but I see you might have had a few too many already. I’ll leave you to it. No hard feelings on my part, okay?’

  ‘Unbelievable,’ I mutter.

  She and her group move over to the bar, laughing and chattering – no doubt about me and how I need to lighten up. I’m so angry my hands are shaking.

  ‘One mushroom hotpot and one shepherd’s pie.’ Lucy’s teenage daughter has arrived with our food order and is placing it on the table. ‘Can I get you any condiments with that?’

  Toby shakes his head. ‘No thanks.’

  ‘Okay, enjoy.’

  ‘What do you want to do?’ Toby asks carefully. ‘Shall I speak to her? Tell her that what she did was bang out of order?’

  I shake my head. ‘No, leave it. It won’t make any difference anyway. She doesn’t think she’s done anything wrong.’ I suddenly realise this is one hundred per cent true, and always has been. That girl thinks she can do anything she likes no matter how it affects other people. She has zero empathy.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ he says, leaning forward and taking my hands in his. ‘I was wrong to suggest coming out tonight. I’ve only made things worse. Do you want to go back home?’

  I straighten up and look Toby in the eye. ‘And let her ruin our night out? No way. Anyway, this smells bloody lovely. Let’s just forget you-know-who and get back to enjoying ourselves.’

  ‘Sure?’

  ‘Yep. I’m so excited about our spa weekend!’

  ‘I love you, Mrs Johnson.’

  ‘Love you too.’

  We start eating and I try to ignore Cassie and her cluster of friends at the bar. But it’s not easy. Her shrill laugh keeps cutting through our conversation, setting my teeth on edge. Why the hell did she have to come back to Shaftesbury now of all times? This is supposed to be a special week for me and Toby, but now it’s been tainted by her selfishness.

  ‘You sure you’re okay?’ Toby’s forehead creases with concern once again.

  ‘What? Yeah,’ I answer brightly. ‘Absolutely fine.’ But my earlier excitement at our impromptu night out has evaporated, replaced by a heavy feeling of dread. As if things are closing in on me. First Madeline, then Dina and now Cassie again. The past and the present converging. The sense that something disastrous is happening and yet I can’t quite figure out what it is.

  Nineteen

  NOW

  I drop the children at school and stride into work, trying to banish the dull throbbing in my gut, telling myself that I’m being ridiculous. That there’s nothing to worry about. It’s probably just an anxiety hangover from Cassie’s appearance at the pub last night. I wish I could just erase her from my mind. The early-morning air is freezing, the sky white with snow clouds. I hope the weather holds off or our guests might not be able to make the party tomorrow.

  I finally heard back from Madeline earlier this morning via text. It wasn’t exactly friendly, but it wasn’t rude either. Just perfunctory, telling me she’ll pick up the cake and party decorations as planned. Thank goodness for that – at least that’s one weight off my mind. Toby has written his speech, which he won’t let me hear before the party. I asked Dad if he might say a few words, but he said that public speaking wasn’t really his thing. I’m disappointed, but I have to agree with him – his speech on our wedding day was pretty basic. Just wishing us a long and happy life together. Which was lovely, but I think our guests were expecting a bit more – perhaps an anecdote or two. Luckily, Toby has arranged for his dad to say something at the party instead.

  As I approach the salon, I slow my pace, that feeling of dread resurfacing. I realise it’s because I’m nervous about seeing Jennifer again after yesterday’s debacle with the magazine article. Thankfully, she’d calmed down by the end of the day, but I got the feeling that I still wasn’t her favourite person in the world. Which, in my opinion, was a little unfair, as Cassie shafted me as much as Jennifer. Anyway, I’m here now, so I may as well go in and get it over with. I arrive at the same time as Becky, who gives me a sympathetic look. But we aren’t given the opportunity to dissect yesterday’s disaster as Jennifer opens the door for us and ushers us in.

  ‘You girls okay this morning?’ she asks.

  ‘Bloody freezing,’ Becky replies.

  ‘Fine,’ I add, unable to gauge Jennifer’s mood.

  ‘Oh come here, you silly sausage.’ My boss opens her arms and gives me a hug laced with Dior. ‘I’m sorry I went off on you yesterday. Of course it wasn’t your fault, babe.’

  ‘Oh.’ I put a hand to my heart. ‘I’m so relieved, Jen. I really thought you blamed me.’

  ‘No, not you. That trampy little cow Cassie Barrington. If I ever see her again, I’ll…’ she tails off and laughs. ‘Anyway, I bought us all posh coffees and Danishes to banish the evil witch from our thoughts.’ She points to the reception desk. ‘Tadaaa!’

  ‘Yum.’ Becky grabs a coffee and a pastry and takes a huge bite.

  ‘Eat them in the back please!’ Jennifer gives Becky a light slap on the shoulder. ‘I don’t want crumbs all over the salon floor.’

  ‘Thanks, Jen.’ I help myself to a coffee but can’t face a Danish just yet. Maybe later. Then again, maybe not. I watch as the staff roll in and swoop on the tray like excited starving seagulls.

  The morning goes by in a blur of Christmassy cheer. I feel infinitely better now that my boss has forgiven me. I welcome in my third appointment of the day – Georgina O’Brien, a school mum who’s been a client of mine for years. As she sits in the chair and I examine the ends of her wavy light-brown hair, she seems worried.

  ‘Everything okay, Georgie? These ends could do with a couple of inches coming off.’

  ‘I know. I’m long overdue a cut.’

  ‘No problem, we’ll soon have you looking glamorous for the party tomorrow.’

  She seems to shrink a lit
tle in her seat.

  ‘You all right? You and Niall are still coming, aren’t you?’

  ‘Uh, is it still on then?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ I let go of her hair and scratch the back of my head, that familiar sense of dread returning.

  ‘Oh.’ Her face pales.

  ‘Has something happened?’ I press.

  ‘I thought you’d know about it.’

  ‘Know about what? Please, whatever it is, just tell me, Georgie.’

  ‘Okay, well I might be wrong, but Niall’s brother is a waiter at the Regis and he said that the restaurant’s closed because they’ve had a visit from the environmental health department.’

  I grip the top of Georgie’s chair and realise that if this is true, there’s no way the party will be able to go ahead.

  Georgie’s face falls. ‘You didn’t know, did you?’

  I shake my head. ‘How certain are you?’

  ‘Ninety-nine per cent. Sorry.’

  My shoulders droop. ‘It’s not your fault. I’m just glad you told me.’

  I realise Georgie has taken hold of my hand. ‘Try not to worry.’ She smiles at me in the mirror. ‘I’m sure they’ll sort out an alternative for you if their kitchen’s out of action.’

  ‘It’s lovely of you to be so positive, but it’s peak party season and the do is tomorrow. No. If Environmental Health are involved, then it’s game over.’

  ‘I’ll keep everything crossed for you.’

  We spend the next couple of minutes discussing Georgie’s cut, and I do my best to concentrate and sound enthusiastic, but I’m desperate to call the hotel to find out what’s going on. I can’t very well abandon Georgie to make a private phone call. Not after what happened yesterday, with me running out on a client. Jennifer does seem to be happier today, but I don’t want to push my luck. My emotions are see-sawing between resignation and panic. Maybe I should just forget the whole thing. I’ve been nothing but a giant ball of stress this week. My wedding day was a disappointment, and it looks like our ten-year anniversary is shaping up to be more of the same.

  Georgie gets to her feet as Lily comes over to take her to the basins. While Lily washes Georgie’s hair, I dash into the staffroom, grab my phone and call the hotel. It rings for a while and then, frustratingly, goes to voicemail. I leave a message asking them to call me back urgently. I also call Vicky, the general manager, on her mobile, but she doesn’t pick up either. This isn’t a good sign. I’ve never been unable to get through to her before. I leave another message and also tap out a quick text, feeling my heart grow heavier as I press send. Next I call Toby, but he doesn’t reply either. Not that I expected him to. He’s probably on site, in the middle of a job. I decide not to worry him by leaving a message. I’ll wait until I hear something definite. I try all the numbers again, but no one is picking up.