The Wife: An unputdownable psychological thriller with a breathtaking twist Read online

  ‘I’m just feeling a bit rough. I think I overdid things yesterday.’ It’s the truth, so why does it feel like a lie? Maybe because it’s a lie by omission.

  ‘You sure that’s all it is?’ Dad’s eyes narrow and he really looks at me.

  The moment ends when a knock at the door makes us break eye contact. I’m sure it must be housekeeping this time, and I’m about to turn them away when Celia’s voice rings through the closed door.

  ‘Zoe, can I come in?’

  My heart sinks at the thought of having to pretend some more. At this rate I may as well have gone down to breakfast.

  ‘Want me to tell her to go?’ Dad asks.

  I briefly consider his offer, before deciding against it. Celia could well be a breath of fresh air. A no-nonsense antidote to the dread and despair into which I find myself sinking. ‘It’s okay, I don’t mind if she comes in.’

  Dad gives a brief nod. ‘Well, okay, I’m going for a walk. I’ve got my phone with me. Call if you need anything.’

  I’m a little stunned. Dad has never asked if I needed anything. Not since I left home, and even before that he wasn’t the most forthcoming of parents. Maybe he’s sensed my fear and worry. Maybe it’s activated some recessive parenting gene.

  ‘Okay, Zoe?’ He shakes me out of my musing.

  ‘Yeah, okay, thanks. Wrap up warm. I’ll see you later.’

  He nods, leaves the room and lets Celia in on his way out. They mumble a brief greeting to one another as they pass.

  ‘Sorry…’ Celia steps hesitantly into the room. ‘Guy’s not leaving on my account, is he?’

  ‘No, he’s going for a walk.’

  ‘Good. I hope I’m not intruding. I was just a little worried when you didn’t come down to breakfast. Toby said you weren’t feeling too well. I’ve brought you up some paracetamol and some pastries from the buffet. I know you can order room service, but you might not be bothered to do that if you’re feeling peaky.’

  ‘That’s so kind. Come and sit down, if you like.’ I wonder if she’d be quite so kind if she knew what I’d done.

  ‘Do you want a cup of tea?’ She opens up her capacious handbag and pulls out a couple of napkins which are now shedding flakes of pastry over the floor. ‘Oh dear, I’m making such a mess.’ She places the napkins on the table by the window. ‘You sit there, and I’ll get the kettle on, unless you want coffee?’

  ‘Tea’s great. I already had a coffee.’ I do as she suggests and sit at the table as though I’m acting a part.

  ‘That was a lovely evening, wasn’t it?’ She bustles about at the large dresser and I let her get on with it. ‘Did you enjoy yourself? I thought our finger-food selections were spot on. Everyone at our table was raving about the arancini balls. You looked like you were having a good time anyway.’

  ‘I did have a good time, thanks, Celia.’ Until I wasn’t anymore.

  ‘You left quite early though,’ she says pointedly.

  ‘Yes, I know, sorry. I was just telling Dad that I think I overdid things. I was looking after Madeline – she had a bit too much to drink – and then I suddenly came over all tired.’

  ‘You do look a little washed-out this morning, if you don’t mind me saying.’ Celia brings over our cups of tea and settles herself opposite me. She’s dressed casually in a blue floral jumper, dark-grey jeans and navy ankle books. Her make-up is light, with just a touch of blush and a smear of pale-pink lipstick. ‘I knocked on Madeline’s door too, but I think she must still be asleep.’

  Just like my urge to unburden myself to Dad, I really want to tell Celia what I learned about my wedding day. It’s like an itch I need to scratch.

  ‘Have one of these.’ Celia unfolds the napkins to reveal some squashed mini pastries. ‘The maple and pecan are delicious.’

  I’m not hungry, but I make a pretence of tearing off a corner and popping it in my mouth. I can tell Celia’s not fooled; she raises her eyebrows and her nostrils flare delicately.

  I leave the pastry and reach for my tea instead, sipping at the scalding liquid. ‘Being back here at the hotel has really brought back memories of our wedding day.’

  ‘I’m sure it has.’ Celia takes a sip of her tea. ‘Such a magical ceremony.’

  I hesitate. ‘Do you remember what happened when I… passed out?’

  Celia pauses mid-sip. ‘Oh, gosh, yes, that’s right, you fainted, didn’t you?’

  ‘But how did it actually happen?’

  ‘Well, of course I didn’t see it. I was downstairs with your bridesmaids getting my make-up done. That girl really overdid my eye make-up. I had to wipe most of it off. But that’s beside the point. Nick called to tell me what had happened. Asked me to come straight up and check you were okay. He was worried sick, poor soul. You gave us all a real fright.’

  ‘It’s just weird that I can’t remember it at all. One minute I was getting ready with you, Lou and Becky, and the next I was waking up on the floor.’

  ‘Well we found out later that you were pregnant with Alice, so that explained the fainting episode. I used to get very dizzy when I was expecting Toby. I fainted on a bus once. It was quite embarrassing.’

  ‘It’s weird, because since I’ve been back here, I think it’s triggered something in my brain. I’m starting to get flashbacks of that day. Only I can’t make proper sense of them.’ I need to shut up now. Celia has always been my go-to person to confide in. But I know she’s the last person I should be saying anything to. Toby would be so upset if he thought I was going to burden his mum with any of this. It wouldn’t be fair. ‘I just wondered if, as a nurse, whether you think my memories might return properly. Have you come across this type of thing before?’

  ‘Memory is a very unreliable thing,’ Celia replies. ‘Especially in your situation, where you have a blank spot. It’s entirely possible that your brain could create false memories that might trick you into believing they’re real.’ She picks up a custard crown and takes a bite. ‘Mm, this is heavenly. I’ve already been such a greedy Gertie this morning, but I can’t resist a good hotel breakfast. Sorry, as I was saying, memories are tricky little beasts. I know mine’s getting worse as I get older!’

  ‘You’re right,’ I reply. ‘I should probably stop driving myself mad trying to remember what happened. It’s just a bit disconcerting, you know?’

  ‘Well, yes and no.’ Celia gives me a smile and reaches across to pat my hand. ‘Maybe it’s your body’s way of blocking out an unpleasant thing. I mean, who really wants to remember fainting and hitting your head on a desk?’

  If only that were all I was blocking out. ‘You’re right, as usual.’

  ‘It’s nice to be right occasionally. Now, tell me, why aren’t you eating anything?’ As Celia takes another bite of her pastry, flakes drop onto her jumper. She brushes them off.

  ‘Well, aside from the flashback thing, I think I’m a bit hungover.’

  ‘Aah, that explains why you’re looking so green. You should have some more tea, get back into bed and catch up on your sleep. Hopefully you’ll have recovered by lunchtime.’

  ‘I’d feel so lazy doing that.’

  ‘Nonsense.’ She wipes her fingers on the corner of one of the napkins. ‘This is your anniversary weekend. You need to get better so you can enjoy the rest of it. Sleep will help.’

  ‘You sure you don’t mind?’

  ‘Why should I mind?’ She takes a sip of tea.

  ‘What about the others? Won’t they be expecting me to show my face? What are they going to do today?’

  ‘Let me see…’ She counts off the others on her fingers. ‘Malcolm’s playing snooker in the bar with another of the guests; Madeline’s like you – in her room, a little worse for wear; I sent Nick and Toby for a walk. And you said your dad’s gone for a walk too.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well, there you go! I’m going to find a quiet spot by the fire in one of the lounges and settle down with my novel.’ She reaches into her bag and takes out a smal
l enamel pot. ‘Now, have a couple of these headache tabs and climb into bed. We can meet later when you’re feeling better.’

  I take the tablets from my mother-in-law and wash them down with the rest of my tea. Celia draws the curtains, but I find I’m too distracted to even take off my clothes and get into my pyjamas. I had hoped that talking to my mother-in-law would have helped to set my mind at rest. But as I lie on top of the covers, I can’t help scratching at my hazy memories, trying to sharpen them into something clearer. I remember seeing my sister’s lifeless body. I remember a smashed vase, water everywhere, winter roses. And Dina shouting something. What was she shouting?

  After closing the curtains, Celia walks away across the darkened room. ‘Get some sleep,’ she says softly, opening the door. A shaft of light from the corridor illuminates her, and washes into the room, casting strange shadows.

  I’m too enmeshed in my thoughts to say a proper goodbye. Instead, I mumble something vague and exhale with relief as Celia closes the door behind her, plunging the room into darkness once more and leaving me alone. For a moment, I wonder what the hell I’m still doing here. In this room. In this hotel. Where it happened. Where I…

  I sit bolt upright, my eyes wide, my body frozen as an avalanche of memories cascades into my brain like a pack of playing cards being dealt too fast. My whole body shudders as though I have the flu, my skin going alternately hot and then ice cold.

  I can remember.

  I can remember everything.

  Twenty-Nine

  THE DAY OF THE WEDDING

  I turn one way and then the other, gazing at my reflection in the full-length mirror. It doesn’t even look like me. My hair normally hangs in a dark curtain down my back. Today it’s been softly curled and held back off my face by the pearl comb and veil which my mother wore at her wedding. My ivory lace dress is fitted, flaring out slightly at the hem, its tiny seed pearls catching the winter light that streams through the huge sash windows. I’ll wait until Celia comes back before attempting to attach the billowing tulle train. There’s still over an hour to go before the ceremony starts and I don’t want to be tripping over it.

  The door opens with a click. ‘Wow, Zoe, look at you!’

  I turn at the sound of a familiar voice, not daring to believe she actually made it. ‘Dina!’ Standing before me is my sister, windswept and red-cheeked. Her hair is longer than I’ve ever seen it before, cascading over her shoulders – a rich brown mane with reddish highlights – either dyed, or maybe lightened by years of sunshine. ‘You came! I thought you were in Thailand. You said you couldn’t get away… It’s been so long I hardly recognise you!’

  The door closes behind her and she stares at me, her eyes glittering, her mouth slightly open. I shouldn’t be this happy to see her – not after the last conversation we had. But the fact that she’s here must mean she wants to patch things up.

  ‘I know we left things on a weird note, but I’m so glad you changed your mind. It just didn’t feel right, getting married without my little sister here.’ I find that I really mean it. Despite what’s gone on between us, I’m desperate to move on and forgive the past. I take a step towards her to give her a hug, but my sister recoils, stopping me in my tracks.

  ‘Save it, Zoe,’ she sneers. ‘I know you don’t want me here any more than I want to be here.’ Her words hit me in the gut. She’s not here to make amends after all.

  I shake my head. ‘Why are you being like this, Dee? Is it because of the money?’ If she still has a problem with me, why did she have to choose today of all days to come back into my life? Maybe she planned it on purpose to ruin my big day. Well, she’s succeeding… unless I can shrug her off and not rise to the bait. ‘How did you even get into my room?’

  ‘Told them I was your sister. They gave me a key.’

  ‘Well they shouldn’t have. You could have been lying for all they know.’

  ‘It was Mandy on reception. You know, with the big boobs and glasses. I was in her year at school.’

  ‘She still shouldn’t have given you the—’

  ‘Are we really going to stand here talking about what Mandy should or shouldn’t have done?’ There’s a slight drawl to her voice which I first take as heavy sarcasm, but she might be slurring her words.

  ‘Have you been drinking?’

  She snorts out a laugh. ‘You could say that.’

  ‘Look, I realise we’ve got lots to discuss, but as you can see it’s my wedding day. Surely this can wait for another time. Why don’t we sit down, have a quick catch-up?’ I gesture to the seating area. ‘We haven’t seen one another for almost ten years. Not since you were sixteen. The least we could do is—’

  ‘I’m not here to catch up,’ she snaps. ‘I’m not even here to see you.’

  ‘Okay. Well, Dad’s downstairs in the bar getting a coffee with Cassie and her family. We can surprise him.’

  ‘Not here to see Dad either.’

  ‘So why exactly are you here?’ I throw my hands up in despair and disappointment.

  ‘Where’s Toby?’

  ‘Dina, no! You can’t tell him!’ My hands have started shaking uncontrollably.

  Her smile is mean and my heart sinks as I realise the reason she’s come. For some kind of twisted revenge, even though I already helped her out once before. My mind races and I try to think of a way out of this. ‘Look, I’m sorry I couldn’t give you all the money, but I needed it.’

  On our twenty-first birthdays we each received a lump sum from our mum’s trust. It wasn’t a huge amount, but I’ve since put my share towards buying a house with Toby. It made me feel good that I could chip in fifty per cent of the deposit.

  Dina burned through her inheritance within a few months of receiving it, and then called to ask if I could lend her some of mine, as she had an opportunity to invest in a beach bar. I’d told her I was saving my share, but she kept on and on, saying I was standing in the way of her future.

  Eventually she seemed to accept my decision, but I should have realised that was wishful thinking on my part. She asked me if Toby knew about my drug habit. I said that trying a spliff one time didn’t exactly count as a drug habit. And anyway, I’d been pressured into it by friends – or one particular friend actually. But while I bluffed to Dina that Toby wouldn’t care, I knew very well that he wouldn’t have been happy with the news. He likes the fact I’m a goody-two-shoes.

  Dina went on to say that, the way she remembered it, back when we were teenagers, is that I was an addict and a dealer. I laughed aloud at that, until I realised she was deadly serious. The penny dropped. She was actually attempting to blackmail me. Given Toby’s ambition to run for town council, having a fiancée who had dealt drugs wouldn’t have gone down too well with him or his family – even though it was a complete fabrication. I worried he might even have gone so far as to break off our engagement. So I ended up giving Dina some of the money. But I lied and said I’d spent the rest. That seemed to satisfy her at the time. But now here she is, back again. This time on my wedding day, wanting to speak to Toby!

  ‘Dina, you swore you wouldn’t say anything about all that. Why would you lie about me? What good will it do? If you need some more cash, I’m sure I can scrape some together…’

  But she turns her back and leaves the room. I trail after her, pleading for her to reconsider, knowing that this kind of revelation could ruin everything. I’d like to think that once I explain to Toby that my sister is lying, he’ll eventually understand, but it will take time and it will mean that today won’t be the magical day I was dreaming of. In fact, it’s already tainted. I’m trembling with anger and shock, terrified about what my husband-to-be will do when he hears Dina’s exaggerated version of my past. And what about Celia and Malcolm? They’ll be horrified.

  ‘Dina, come back! You’re drunk! Please… you don’t know what you’re saying. Why are you doing this?’

  She knocks on the door next to mine and then moves on to the next. ‘Toby, are you in th
ere?’ She glances back at me, a vindictive expression on her face.

  Last night, Toby stayed in a room next to his parents’, just along the corridor from me. Dina is almost outside his door now. Thankfully, no one else has answered Dina’s knocks – I’m hoping those rooms are unoccupied and I’m praying that by some miracle Toby doesn’t answer.

  ‘He’s on the next floor up,’ I bluff, hoping she buys it.

  ‘Why would you tell me that?’ she scoffs, now knocking on Toby’s door.

  I pray for Toby to be anywhere but in his room, but a moment later, he opens the door, his mouth falling open at the sight of my dishevelled, drunken sister. He’s already in his suit, the top button of his shirt open, his black tie hanging loose around his neck. My husband-to-be – unless my sister ruins everything. ‘Dina? Uh…’ And then he spies me behind her and his face blanches. ‘Zoe, what’s going on? You shouldn’t be here. I’m not supposed to see you until later.’

  Dina pushes past him into his room. ‘Hello, Toby.’

  Toby makes to close the door before I can follow her inside. ‘You go back to your room, Zoe. I’ll pretend I didn’t see you. Isn’t it bad luck to see the bride before we’re married?’

  ‘My sister’s drunk.’ I force my way past him, into his room, closing the door behind me. We’re all standing in the centre of the room now, equidistant from one another.

  Toby glances from me to Dina. He looks panicked and I don’t blame him. But even faced with my deranged sister, he’s still looking out for me. ‘Honestly, go back to your room. I’ll sort this out.’

  But I can’t leave my sister alone with Toby. I’m terrified she’s going to lie to him and try to ruin our wedding. ‘Toby, I’m so sorry I couldn’t stop her coming to see you. She’s had too much to drink and she’s talking absolute rubbish. Let me call my dad. Can I use your phone?’