by M J Hardy
I need no further invitation and race to the bathroom, slamming it shut behind me. There is no lock on the door, and yet the solid wood between us gives me a moment to think. Prostitution, this can’t be happening. It’s surely a nightmare I’ll wake up from and find myself at home with my dad sleeping in the next room. Not this. Not this strange place I’ve found myself imprisoned in. Surely, they can’t make me do that, I’ll escape, I’ll find a way, I won’t let it happen.
As I run the bath, I think about the situation I’m in. What about my father, where is he, is he safe? If I run, will they kill him? It’s too much to think about and as I sink into the hot water, I almost contemplate sinking below the waterline and ending it now. That would be the easy way out. No more nightmares and no more threats. But self-preservation is a powerful emotion, and I squeeze my eyes tightly shut against the tears that are never far away. I won’t let them beat me. I’ll find a way and I’ll never stop trying. Nothing’s forever, just a moment in time that determines our future. If I want a different one than what’s on offer now, it’s up to me to shape it myself. I must be strong and keep my wits about me because I’m not going down without a fight.
Chapter 20
Nancy
I think I’ve cleaned the house all morning, wishing I could clean the demons away as easily. The trouble is, they appear to have followed me here and seeing that room on Ryan’s computer screen, reminded me it will never go away unless we get him help.
I’m trying not to think about why he does this. Is it just for the hell of it, or is there another, more sinister purpose? Thinking of the disgust on Jasmine’s face when she was describing the client she’s working for; I wonder if that will be Ryan a few years from now. Why is he always spying on people, women, mainly? It’s not normal, any sane person can see that, but is Ryan sane? I’m not so sure anymore. It’s just weird the amount of time he spends in his room. He has no friends, no girlfriends and just hides away looking at his computer and hardly leaving. Confiscating his computer isn’t the answer because knowing him he has alternative ways to get online and his obsession won’t go away unless we break the cycle.
It’s almost too much and I call it quits and go for a run instead. Maybe the physical activity will distract me and release some healing endorphins in my body because I can’t just wash and clean all day. I’m almost as compulsive about cleaning as Ryan is about spying. Maybe we both need help.
Thirty minutes later, I’m heading off for a run and feeling better already. Physical activity is a great healer for the mind and I plug in my ear buds and set off at a slow pace, not really intending on pushing myself today.
As I turn the corner, I almost stop in my tracks because I see something very unusual. A woman is cleaning the windows of the house in question, and my heart stills as I slow to a power walk. As I approach, she looks up and smiles and taking it as a positive sign; I stop and smile. “Hi, I live around the corner, I don’t think we’ve met.”
“Donna. I’ve just arrived, although my husband’s been here a good month already.”
She heads towards me and I introduce myself. “I’m Nancy, it’s nice to meet you. How are you finding things, do you need to know anything?”
“It’s fine - I think. My husband told me most things.”
Thinking about Jasmine’s account of her meeting with Donna’s husband and the fact he denied even having a wife, piques my interest and I say innocently, “Have you been married long?”
Ten years, although there have been a few bumps along the way, one of them recently. It’s why he moved here. But then we worked it out and are giving it another go.”
She seems so friendly and normal that any doubts I had are pushed aside showing how fickle I am. I’ve always wanted to believe there’s good in everyone and they are no exception.
“You should both come around one evening and meet the neighbours, if you want to that is.”
“Sure, why not? It will have to wait though, Charlie’s away for a while and I’m using the time to get this house in shape. Men are pigs, aren’t they? I don’t think he’s cleaned this place since he moved in.”
“I’m sure my husband would be the same.”
Smiling, I wonder what on earth I was worrying about? She seems so normal and has explained everything in one conversation that we have spent weeks wondering about. In fact, I feel a little foolish now and try to make up for it. “Well, as soon as he’s back, let me know and we’ll arrange something.”
She nods. “It will be nice to meet some new friends, this place appears good for that. Great, thanks, I’ll let you know when we can make it.”
She turns away and I start jogging, feeling much happier than when I started. Maybe that image Ryan took was what I thought - a photo shoot because looking at the woman she appears normal enough, if not a little too glamorous, making me feel as if I need a makeover and fast.
I’m sure she’s had her teeth done and her lips plumped. The breasts that strained against her vest top looked fake too, as well as the dye in her hair. Far from looking down on her, I envy her. I always have envied confident women and wish I could be the same and my hand instinctively goes to my own natural, mouse brown hair, pulled back in a ponytail and in need of a wash. My nails are chipped and broken and my legs could use a visit from the razor, whereas Donna’s looked tanned and lengthy. I’m guessing she has a varied sex life, unlike my own, which is increasingly becoming a problem to me because I’m resorting to ogling other women’s husbands and envying them something I wish I had myself.
A husband I fancied.
Adrian has become more like a brother to me, which disturbs me - a lot. When did the passion die and when did things change? Maybe we need marriage counselling, or sex therapy because my hormones are raging out of control at the moment and I can’t brush aside the image that won’t go away of that sex room as Ryan called it. I thought about it last night in bed and found myself way more interested in it than any decent person should be. Maybe Donna and Charlie have particular tastes and that’s just one of them.
Now I’m feeling extremely hot and it’s not because of the run. The sweat beating a trail to my panties isn’t the result of exercise. It’s the realisation I want something no respectable woman should - excitement and danger.
What’s happening to me?
Much later, I receive a text from Jasmine that makes me think a little.
Jasmine: Hey, Nancy, I need to meet up later. I’ve found something out about that house and it’s not good. I can’t say any more than that but come round at seven and I’ll explain then.
Nancy: Sounds interesting, I’ll bring a cake.
By the time Adrian comes home from work I’m bursting with the news, but as usual he’s not interested.
“Honestly, Nancy, you must give up this obsession with that house, you’re as bad as Ryan. It’s none of our business.”
I just stare at him, the anger burning a trail through my reasoning and I shout, “That’s just typical of you, Adrian. I want to make conversation and you shoot me down in flames at the first moment you get. What if I want to talk about it? Can’t you at least humour me and pretend to be interested in something I am. I’m worried about our relationship because we appear to have nothing in common these days except this house and our boys.”
My voice falters as I look at him with a hurt expression and say in a whisper, “What happened to us? When did this relationship fracture because I’m wondering if we can repair it?”
He closes the kitchen door and says in a fierce whisper, “Control yourself, Nancy. The boys will hear and the last thing we need is for them to hear us arguing. It’s bad enough listening to Esme and Lucas tearing strips off each other in the garden without us joining in.”
I’m not sure what to say because this is typical Adrian. He lives his life in an emotionless void and I don’t know when I realised this isn’t ok. I know that Esme and Lucas argue a lot, but I also know they have a deep love for each other that i
s clear when I hear them laughing and play fighting in the garden. Even their arguments usually end up with laughter, and one of them does something to make the other one laugh. We don’t laugh anymore, and I’m struggling to remember a time when we did.
I look at Adrian differently these days and think about when I first met him. He seemed to be everything I wanted, and I supposed I overlooked the parts of our relationship that weren’t perfect. I’m sure the perfect relationship is a myth anyway and I busied myself with the house, the home and the family. Making everything perfect and creating the textbook family. The trouble is, I’m not sure if I want to keep on trying and have been flicking through properties on the internet that I imagine myself living a different sort of life in.
The single life is becoming increasingly desirable to me because I hear tales from the classes I go to of internet dating and wild times. I sit and listen with interest and then have to come home to this – him and I’m struggling to breathe under the weight of commitment. Maybe our time is up. Would I feel like a failure if I asked to leave? Would I be selfish and destroy an otherwise successful relationship? As Adrian looks at me with his usual disinterest, something sparks inside me and I say in a firm voice, “I want us to sign up for marriage guidance, this isn’t working anymore.”
“Are you serious?” Adrian’s face is a picture as he stares at me in utter disbelief.
“Of course, I wouldn’t have suggested it if I wasn’t.”
“But why, we’re fine, aren’t we?”
I feel bad as I detect a hint of anger mixed with hurt and I shrug. “It’s long overdue if you ask me. Don’t say you haven’t noticed that things just aren’t the same between us anymore and I kind of miss that, you know, the closeness we used to share, the laughs, the hopes and dreams, the sex.”
Adrian looks around him quickly and whispers, “Lower your voice, the boys will hear you.”
“That’s just it, Adrian, the boys never hear us because we do everything behind closed doors and with minimum effort. Where’s the passion, where are the arguments followed by passion? It’s as if we just exist these days; we don’t live and it’s time we put a stop to this - existence.”
Turning away, I grab my keys and the Tupperware box on the side containing the carrot cake I made yesterday and snap, “Your dinner’s in the oven, I’m off to Jasmines.”
“Again!”
“Yes, again. And don’t wait up, I may be some time.”
As I storm out, cake in hand, I struggle not to burst into hysterical laughter. It’s obvious my little speech alerted Adrian to the fact that something’s wrong because by the look on his face, he never thought there was. Maybe an evening spent mulling over my words is long overdue because I was deadly serious. It’s make, or break for Adrian and me and this time, I mean it.
Chapter 21
Nancy
I can tell Jasmine’s excited as soon as she opens the door. She looks tired around the eyes, but the excitement in them tells me she has something juicy to talk about.
She almost wrestles the cake from me and shouts, “Liam, food’s arrived.”
She winks and I follow her into her immaculate kitchen and smile at her husband who is sitting watching television with a large glass of what looks whiskey in his hand.
He smiles and flicks off the set and heads over, saying good naturedly, “I’ll watch this in the other room and leave you in peace. I can’t leave without taking a slice of that with me, if I may?”
Jasmine cuts him a generous slice, and the look they share makes me even more determined to shake up my own marriage. I can’t remember the last time Adrian looked at me like that, and I’m not prepared to waste any more time entering old age before my time.
Jasmine pours me a glass of Prosecco and slides the cake towards me and I laugh.
“Cake and Prosecco, how the other half live.”
“Yes, a little weird but worth every decadent mouthful. Anyway, I have news that’s both interesting and scary at the same time.”
“Scary, I don’t like the sound of that.”
“You’re right to be concerned.”
She settles back in her seat and fixes me with a sharp look. “I did some digging into who owns that property, you know, number 9.”
Shifting in my seat, I wait for the results with bated breath.
She leans forward and her eyes shine with excitement. “Well, it turns out it’s rented and the owner is a company in Hayward’s Heath who bought it as an investment. Our weird neighbour has rented it from new and it’s managed by a local estate agent. It’s on a short-term lease, which is to be renegotiated every six months.”
“Wow, I’m impressed, how did you find this out?”
“I googled the history and then rang around the local estate agents, expressing an interest in renting and enquired about any available properties either now, or in the future. As it turns out I hit the jackpot and was told number 9 may come up soon because the current tenants have expressed their wish not to renew the lease. But that’s not the reason I called you, there’s more and it’s worse.”
I lean forward, eager to hear what she discovered, and she looks worried.
“When I met Charlie, it was a weird experience in more ways than one. Not only was he evasive, but I had a feeling I knew him from somewhere. I had his first name and convinced the estate agent that we were friends and told him that my friend Charlie um… you know, the kind of thing and he finished my sentence for me, Evans. Now I had his full name, I ran a check on it through our computer at work. I’m not sure why I did, call it a moment of foresight because he’s there—a profile on our company computer.”
I stare at her in disbelief as she looks at me triumphantly. “It’s not good, by the way.”
“What do you mean—not good, in what way? Oh my god, he’s not a murderer, is he?”
I stare at her in shock and the fact Jasmine looks uncomfortable isn’t making me feel any happier and she says nervously, “Listen, I’m not supposed to give out any details of our clients, or people involved with cases at our company. I can’t give you the details, but know he is seriously marked. The case against him collapsed and that’s all I know, but that man is not the neighbour you want living anywhere near you.”
Her words cause me to panic even more and I falter, “Are we safe?”
“I think so, the only good news is that he’s moving on. The thing is, Nancy, I wanted to ask you a favour, well, Ryan really.”
I feel my heart sink as I know what she’s going to say, and I’m not sure I can agree to it.
“We need Ryan to carry on spying.”
She holds up her hand and says quickly, “I know its unethical and against the law, but this is an investigation and we need to know what we’re dealing with. Maybe we can harness his energy in the right way and make him use his gift for good, rather than personal pleasure.”
I wince at the meaning behind her words and feel the alarm setting in. I’m not sure how to answer her, so say sadly, “The trouble is, we have made a big thing out of this and rightly so. It wouldn’t look good if we went back on our word and encouraged him to carry on. How would that look, it’s conflicting? How is it good on one hand and not the other? I’m sorry but I can’t ask Ryan to do this, it would undermine everything we’ve told him and make us look bad.”
Jasmine nods and smiles sympathetically. “I understand, it’s fine. It was just a thought and of course I agree with you, we can’t manipulate things for our own gain. We will just have to rely on instinct and observation instead.”
She turns away and cuts some more cake and I feel bad. I wish I could say yes, but how can I? Ryan would always refer back to it and think he can do what the hell he likes. Anyway, from the sounds of it, they are moving away soon, so just a few more months and calm will be restored.
The house is in darkness when I leave Jasmine’s which surprises me because it’s only 8.30pm and I worry in case they’ve gone out somewhere without me.
&
nbsp; However, as soon as I push the front door open, I hear soft music playing in the kitchen and stare in amazement at the candles flickering on the surfaces, filling the room with a seductive glow. I stare at Adrian in utter shock as he stands holding a bottle of champagne next to two glasses and he says softly, “Close the door, Nancy.”
I do it as if on autopilot and turn in amazement as he hands me a glass and says in a husky voice. “I’m pleased to meet you, Nancy, isn’t it?”
My fingers shake as I take the glass from his hand and whisper, “What’s going on, Adrian, where are the boys?”
He runs a hand around my waist and pulls me close, whispering, “If you are referring to the two lodgers upstairs, I’ve given them money to go to the cinema. The house is ours for the next three hours and I intend on spending every minute of them in bed with you. Do you like the sound of that, Nancy, is that the kind of girl you are, do you like to live on the edge?”
I want to laugh but can tell he’s trying so hard to create something thrilling and sexy, and yet it just doesn’t suit him. In fact, he looks ridiculous standing there with his shirt unbuttoned and attempting to look sexy. Quickly, I take a swig of the champagne and then watch in amazement as he takes the glass from my hand and places it on the counter before reaching behind me and opening the fridge, withdrawing a can of whipped cream. Then he says cheekily, “We’ll be needing this. Come with me and let me show you what’s been missing from our lives.”
