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

  NOW

  After my trip to the police station with Celia, I spend the rest of the day cleaning the house, running errands and speaking to my insurance company about the accident. I’m now going to lose my no-claims bonus and the insurance premium will probably go up, but there’s nothing I can do about it – the accident was my fault. Aside from the car, my head is buzzing with everything else. I keep replaying the moment I saw Dina today – that is, if it actually was her. Perhaps I’ve got it wrong. Sergeant Graham never called me, so they obviously had no luck spotting my sister. Maybe their record checks will yield some information in the next few days.

  Normally, if any unusual situation occurs in my life, the first person I would tell would be Toby. I’d have rung him at work, and he’d have made me feel better about it. Today, I didn’t tell him any of it – not about the crash, not about seeing Dina, and not about going to the police station. I guess I’m still suspicious and angry with him since his lie. I don’t feel the same trust I did only a few days ago.

  The children don’t go to after-school club on Mondays, so I’m picking them up at regular school-finishing time today, which is lovely as we get to spend extra time together. Often they’ll want to invite friends over to play, but I’m thinking that today when we get home, we can make some decorations for the tree. As I walk the short distance from the house to school, I’m thankful the rain has finally eased to a less aggressive steady drizzle. However, the pavement is icy in patches, and I feel like a baby giraffe as I pick my way carefully along, steadying myself against walls and lamp posts.

  I’m dreading running into Madeline or Kim in the playground. Their daughters usually go to after-school club on Mondays, so hopefully I won’t see either of them. But if I do, I’m not sure whether I should try to initiate conversation and risk being ignored, or simply keep my head down and pretend I haven’t seen them. The way I’m feeling right now, I’d prefer the latter option, but I still need to speak to Madeline about the party preparations. She’s supposed to be collecting the cake from the bakery, and the balloons and decorations from the party store on Friday, but I’m not sure if she’s still on board with it all. I messaged her again to ask if she’d rather I did it, but she didn’t reply. And unless she gives me the receipts, I won’t be able to pick them up. All I need is a yes or no from her. Surely that’s not too much to ask.

  Jamie comes out of his classroom first, happy to see me and chattering about his day. But when Alice comes out, her face is pulled down into a scowl, which is strange.

  ‘Hello, everything okay?’ I ask, pulling her into a hug and kissing the top of her head. ‘Let’s walk quickly, get home where it’s nice and cosy.’ I take each of their hands and we start walking. I keep my head bowed, avoiding eye contact with the other parents. But I needn’t have worried – the weather is so dreadful that everyone just wants to leave and get back to their warm, dry homes.

  ‘Mum, today was really bad.’ I look down at my daughter and see that she’s trying not to cry.

  ‘Alice, what happened?’

  ‘I don’t want to talk about it now because I might get upset and people will see and then everyone will call me a cry baby.’

  It looks like my daughter’s day was on a par with mine. ‘Okay, let’s get home. We’ll stride quickly. Careful though; it’s icy.’

  Once we’re inside and the children are settled in the kitchen with a drink and a snack, I ask my daughter to explain why she’s so upset.

  ‘Don’t worry, Alice,’ Jamie says, trying to sound grown-up, ‘I’ll look after you.’

  ‘You’re a very good brother.’ I kiss his round cheek and wish Toby was here to see how cute our son is being. But then I remember that I’m not exactly happy with my husband at the moment.

  ‘Hope didn’t invite me to her birthday party.’ Alice kicks repeatedly at the table leg until I reach down and place a hand on her knee to stop her. I have a horrible feeling that this exclusion is something to do with the reason Madeline and Kim are ignoring me.

  ‘They’re going to see Peter Pan at the theatre, and everyone was talking about it today and planning what outfits they’re going to wear. And I felt really left out because I’m not going. So I just had to sit there while they talked about it, and it was horrible.’ My daughter’s face is red, and she looks like she’s about to burst into tears at any moment.

  ‘Oh, Alice.’ I give her a hug as my anger rises. It’s one thing for my friends and family to take issue with me, but to penalise my daughter is downright cruel. ‘Who else has been invited? Is it everyone from your class?’

  ‘No. There’s eight girls going, including Hope. But it’s our whole group of friends!’

  Jamie gets out of his seat and gives his big sister a cuddle. He’s being such a sweetie.

  ‘Did you say anything about it to Hope?’ I ask.

  ‘I did ask her if I could go, but her mum said that she was only allowed eight people because otherwise it would be too expensive. But I’m one of her best friends. And even Cassidy and Ella are going and I’m much better friends with Hope than they are!’

  ‘Tell you what,’ I say, getting to my feet, ‘why don’t I book us tickets to see Peter Pan? And then at least you’ll be able to talk to them about it afterwards.’

  ‘Can I come too?’ Jamie asks, his eyes wide.

  ‘Course you can!’ I bop him on the nose with my finger and he giggles.

  Alice shakes her head. ‘Thanks, Mum, but it’ll look really lame if I go with you instead of them.’

  I sigh, privately agreeing with her. I know this isn’t the end of the world – children can be cruel sometimes. But in this case, I really believe that this exclusion is coming from the mother rather than the daughter. I can’t even call Kim up to ask why, as that would make me look like an overprotective parent.

  Kim and her husband Thomas have RSVPed to come to our anniversary party, so it’s a bit rich that they’ve chosen to exclude Alice from Hope’s birthday outing. That is, if they even still plan on coming to our party. The way Kim’s been acting lately, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if they don’t show up.

  There’s nothing I can do about it. I can’t exactly force Hope to invite Alice. I decide instead to try to distract my daughter from her disappointment.

  ‘Hey, you know the Christmas decorations at the salon?’ I walk over to the cupboard and pull out a few items, bringing them over to the kitchen table.

  ‘You mean the reindeer and the tree?!’ Jamie cries, his eyes suddenly alight with joy.

  ‘Yes, and the gingerbread decorations,’ I add. Alice isn’t being drawn in by our enthusiasm yet. ‘Well, how about we make some decorations of our own? We could surprise Daddy with some gingerbread stars and Christmas tree biscuits. Look, I got some cookie cutters so we can make different Christmas shapes. And we can ice them too!’

  Jamie picks through the various metal cutters, choosing his favourites. Alice grudgingly selects an angel-shape cutter, and we all get busy, our minds temporarily taken away from our anxieties. And while Alice isn’t exactly bursting with festive spirit, at least she isn’t as sad as she was earlier.

  As we combine the gingerbread ingredients, sifting, mixing, beating and kneading, my mind keeps returning to Madeline and Kim. I’m not sure what to do for the best. Instead of feeling excited for the party this weekend, I’m beginning to wish I’d never suggested having it in the first place. Everything feels as though it’s coming apart. My husband is distant, my sister-in-law is avoiding me, my dad is in his own little world. And to top it all off, my sister might be back in Shaftesbury after ten years but wants nothing to do with me. The only person who seems to have my back these days is Celia. But even she isn’t taking sides. Which is probably a good thing. She’s one of those people who never bad-mouths others and always tries to see the good in them. I wish I could be more like that.

  ‘Okay, you two, we need to wrap the dough and put it in the fridge for fifteen minutes.’ I take a roll of cli
ng film out of the drawer just as my phone starts ringing. Normally, I’d ignore it while I’m in the middle of doing something with the children, but it’s not showing a number on the screen so it might be the police. ‘I’m just going to take this, won’t be a minute.’

  ‘Okay,’ Alice replies, still absorbed in kneading the dough.

  I leave the kitchen and answer the call, making my way into the living room. ‘Hello?’

  As soon as I speak, the line goes dead, just a dial tone humming at me down the line. I wonder if I might have inadvertently pressed a button and cut them off. Hopefully they’ll ring back.

  ‘Mum!’ Alice calls from the kitchen. ‘Are you coming?’

  ‘In a minute!’ I decide to ring Sergeant Graham, just in case it was him with some vital information about my sister.

  ‘Shall we put the dough in the fridge?’

  ‘Wrap it in cling film first!’

  I should go back in there and supervise, but instead, I put a call through to the station. The duty officer answers straight away and tells me that there’s no news yet, and that it wasn’t them who called me. I thank him and end the call.

  I should probably dismiss it as a cold call, or wrong number. But a tiny part of me can’t help wondering if it might have been Dina wanting to get in touch. Maybe she heard my voice at the end of the line and chickened out. It’s frustrating, and only serves to add to my anxiety. At least I’m mildly comforted by the thought that if she called once, perhaps she’ll call again. Although I can’t help feeling nervous about what she might want, given how we left things last time. I can only hope that she’s grown up since then and changed her ways. After all, we were still teenagers when she first left Shaftesbury, our relationship awkward and immature. Even as adults, our sibling issues remain stuck in the past. Perhaps if we were able to reunite properly, face to face, things would be different. We could break the cycle. It would be amazing if we could reconnect in a good way and put the past behind us. But with a shrinking heart, I realise that’s probably wishful thinking.

  Twelve

  NOW

  As the key turns in the lock, I experience a small beat of dread in my chest.

  Toby’s home.

  Normally I look forward to his return from work. But things have been hideously awkward ever since Friday. I managed to avoid talking to him too much at the weekend, concentrating instead on the children. And I pretended to have a headache for most of Sunday. But this can’t go on. I need to confront my husband about his tryst – or whatever it was – with Madeline at our house last week.

  As Toby walks through the front door, Alice and Jamie shoot into the hall to welcome him, brandishing their freshly made Christmas decorations and basking in his feigned surprise that he can’t believe the children made such wonderful gingerbread biscuits; surely fairies must have delivered them to the house on unicorns. Either that, or they must have bought them at a very posh and expensive shop.

  Despite my ambivalence towards Toby at the moment, we both go through the regular evening routine of supper and bath time for the kids, followed by a bedtime story and then fielding Jamie’s multiple trips downstairs for water, or not being able to sleep, and just general delaying tactics. Alice is still upset about Hope’s party, but I try to take her mind off the disappointment by getting her to read a book before falling asleep. Hopefully it’s working. I want to go up and check on her, but I’ll leave it a while longer.

  Toby’s almost finished grilling the fish and boiling the potatoes, so I step in to blanch some green beans and broccoli. He tells me about his day, and I tell him about my hellish morning. To which he nods but stays silent. He doesn’t even ask any questions.

  ‘You don’t seem very surprised,’ I add. ‘Or concerned.’

  ‘Mum already told me,’ he says in a blank voice, turning off the grill. ‘Why didn’t you call me at work?’

  ‘I didn’t want to worry you. I’m absolutely fine so—’

  ‘Not the point.’ Toby moves past me, his whole body rigid. He takes a bottle of white wine from the fridge. ‘Zoe, I was shocked when Mum told me about everything that happened. I was really worried about you.’

  Not worried enough to call, I think. But I hold my tongue.

  ‘How do you think it felt having Mum tell me all about your traumatic morning? It was so awkward and upsetting. I could tell she was surprised you hadn’t told me. I’m grateful she didn’t pry – thankfully she’s not like that – but I really want to know why you told her and not me.’

  I didn’t anticipate Celia calling him up. I guess I should have, but I was too busy worrying about everything else.

  He sighs. ‘Are you okay at least? Were you hurt at all in the accident? And are you absolutely sure it was really Dina?’

  ‘I’m fine.’ I sound distant, my voice monotone and almost offhand. ‘The car’s not in such good shape. And no, I’m not a hundred per cent that it was Dina, but if it wasn’t her, then it was her double.’

  ‘And the police didn’t come up with anything after you left?’

  ‘No. Nothing.’

  ‘Have I done something wrong, Zoe?’ He frowns. ‘Are you pissed off at me? That’s a stupid question – of course you are. It’s obvious.’

  I don’t know how to reply. My guts are twisting at the thought of asking him about Madeline. What if they were having a perfectly innocent meeting and I now accuse him of something awful? Or, even worse, what if it wasn’t perfectly innocent? I’m not prepared for this conversation. My skin feels hot and my mouth is dry as sandpaper.

  ‘So?’ Toby says, pouring us both a large glass of wine. ‘Are you going to tell me what’s wrong? Or are you going to keep avoiding and ignoring me forever?’

  I’m just about to dismiss his concerns, when I stop myself. There’s no point in lying about my worries. I’ve never been very good at hiding my feelings, and these past few days have been no exception. I take my glass of wine and knock back a couple of large gulps.

  ‘I saw you. Last week.’

  ‘Saw me?’ Toby looks confused, but there’s a faint flush of red on his neck.

  ‘Last Friday I called you at work to see if you were free to meet for lunch, but you said you’d already had your lunch with Nick.’ I’m staring hard at him to see his reaction, but he’s waiting for me to continue without giving much away. He takes a sip of wine. I notice the potatoes are still boiling and I realise the vegetables are already green mush. ‘So I went and sat on my mum’s bench at Park Walk. At this time of year you get a clear view of our house from there.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘You were there. With Madeline. I saw you leave together.’

  His face turns red to match his neck and, for a moment, he looks like he’s going to deny it. Instead he shakes his head and looks cross. ‘So?’

  ‘What do you mean, “so”?’

  ‘I was talking to her about the thing.’

  I throw up my hands, annoyed with his defensive tone. ‘What thing?’

  ‘You know, the thing. The thing you were telling me last week, about her being weird with you and cancelling the girls coming over to stay.’

  ‘And you needed to meet at our house to talk about that? You had to lie to me about it?’ This conversation is going down a route that I didn’t want it to go down. But I can’t help the fact that my emotions are getting away from me. I’ve had a really stressful few days, and the one person I thought I could trust is feeding me some cock and bull story that makes absolutely no sense.

  ‘I didn’t lie.’ He frowns. ‘I just didn’t think it was important. It slipped my mind, okay?’

  ‘And you think I’m going to believe that?’ I put my wine glass down on the table to stop myself from breaking it, either by squeezing too hard or hurling it at my husband’s head.

  ‘Zoe, what is this? Why are you picking a fight over nothing?’

  ‘Okay, so if it’s nothing, what did she say?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Toby shifts from o
ne foot to another before draining his wine glass. It’s obvious he’s stalling for time so he can think of a suitably believable answer. How is this happening? This is Toby, the love of my life, acting like a cheating husband. It can’t be true.

  ‘I mean, what reason did Madeline give for being so rude and cold towards me; for not letting the girls stay? She must have told you.’

  ‘It’s what Nick already told me. She said that she was trying to be thoughtful. She said what with you working full-time and organising the party, the last thing you needed was a couple of kids to stay.’

  ‘Okay, so if that’s the case, why has she been avoiding me?’

  ‘I don’t know. I didn’t ask her about that.’

  ‘Sorry, Toby, but that doesn’t sound right to me. Why would you need to go all the way home at lunchtime to have a two-minute conversation that you already had with Nick?’

  ‘Oh, for goodness sake, Zo!’ My husband shakes his head. ‘I’m sorry but I can’t keep this up any more.’ My heart plummets as I wonder if this is the moment where he breaks up with me. But strangely, he gives me a sheepish grin. ‘You’re far too suspicious and you’re ruining the surprise.’

  ‘What? What surprise? What are you talking about?’

  ‘Well if I tell you that, it won’t be a surprise, will it?’

  ‘Toby!’

  ‘Please don’t spoil it. It’s our ten-year anniversary and I wanted to do something nice for us.’

  ‘You mean all this strangeness is because of an anniversary surprise?’ I’m finding it hard to switch from sick fear that my marriage might be over, to relief that my husband might have been planning something nice. ‘Is that why Madeline’s been avoiding me?’

  ‘Look, if I’d known that it would cause all this upset, I’d never have arranged any of it. I’m so sorry, Zoe. Madeline’s been helping me to plan an extra anniversary treat. If I’d realised you’d seen us on Friday, I would’ve come clean straight away. The last thing I meant to do was cause you any worry!’ He gives me a tentative smile. ‘I mean, me and Madeline, really?’