by Karen King
Tom had just taken a mouthful of lager but at Phil’s last remark he almost spluttered it out. He grabbed a napkin and wiped his mouth. ‘Blimey, Phil, that’s a bit of a mess,’ he said when he could finally speak.
‘The thing is I don’t know whether Daisy is telling the truth or just trying to trick me to see what I can remember, as she said. But if we were having an affair, then surely the baby could be mine?’ He hated this not knowing, this powerlessness.
‘I don’t understand why she would say something like that to trick you, though. And why would she think that you’d pretend to lose your memory?’ Tom looked as puzzled as he sounded. ‘It doesn’t make sense.’
‘I know.’ He regretted saying anything to Tom now. He didn’t want to tell him about the argument the night of the accident, that Freya had said he’d been abusive. But he had to say something to convince Tom. He was looking really suspicious now.
‘Apparently Freya and I had an argument the night of the accident. She thought I was having an affair.’ He wasn’t even sure if that was a lie, he only had Freya’s word for it that they were arguing because he’d booked a last-minute holiday. A holiday he could find no details about.
‘And you don’t know if you were?’
‘I wouldn’t cheat on Freya. I love her. And certainly not with her perishing sister. I don’t even fancy Daisy, never have.’
Tom gulped back a mouthful of lager then leant back in the chair. ‘This opens a right can of worms. If you were having an affair with Freya’s sister and her husband found out, that would also give him a motive for wanting revenge.’
Phil had already considered that. He’d met Mark a couple of times before the wedding, and from what he remembered he was a quiet bloke, hardly went to the pub, was focused on his family. He remembered Freya saying that Daisy and Mark had been childhood sweethearts, though. He’d take it badly if he discovered that his wife was having an affair, especially with her sister’s husband. Badly enough to try and kill Phil?
‘I wouldn’t have an affair with Daisy. I just know I wouldn’t,’ he said adamantly even though the image he’d had the other day of him kissing Daisy flashed back into his mind.
Tom must have picked up on his uncertainty because he gave him a long, hard look. ‘The thing is you don’t know, do you, Phil? You can’t remember the past two years. All you know is that someone is out to get you. You need to speak to Freya’s sister and find out for certain if you did have an affair. And you need to tell the police about those notes, and your nocturnal visitor.’
‘I can’t.’ He struggled to stop his voice from shaking. ‘I’m scared what else is going to come out, Tom. Have you any idea what it’s like not to know what you’ve done over the past two years?’
‘You have to!’ Tom leant forward. ‘If you can’t do it for you, then do it for Freya. She could be the one who gets hurt next time. What if whoever it is decides to set fire to your house? You can’t keep this to yourself, Phil. It’s too risky.’
He was right, Phil knew he was, but what if he had been having an affair with Daisy? What then?
He voiced his concern to Tom, who advised, ‘First find out if her husband knows. If he doesn’t, then she won’t want it made public, especially now she’s pregnant. So you both agree to say nothing and then you go to the police and tell them what’s been happening, leaving out the bit about you having an affair.’
‘If Freya finds out, she’ll leave me.’ It was the thing he dreaded most. He’d fallen in love with Freya at first sight, known she was the one for him, and couldn’t believe his luck when she’d agreed to go out with him, then that she’d agreed to marry him. If she left him, it would destroy him. Surely he hadn’t risked their happiness for a sordid affair with her sister?
Then he remembered Daisy’s words: ‘You told me she was abusive, showed me some cuts and bruises.’
Maybe he and Freya weren’t happy after all. Maybe that was why he’d had an affair with Daisy – if he had, that was. Tom was right. He had to find out.
‘Daisy said that I turned to her for help because Freya had a temper and was abusive sometimes,’ he confessed.
Tom raised an eyebrow. ‘She seems nice, Freya, pleasant, easy-going, but…’
‘But what? Come on, Tom, have you any idea how horrible it is not to remember things? Not to know who to believe?’
‘Well, you did turn up for work with a big bruise on your cheek once. You said you’d walked into the door.’
45
Daisy
‘Mum, where’s my smiley jumper? I want to wear my smiley top.’ Molly bounced in wearing pink shorts and no top. Already, at only six years old, Molly had clear ideas of what she wanted to wear. She was so sure of herself, brimming with confidence. Not like Max.
Daisy’s heart sank. The yellow top with the big smiley face on the front was still in the wash. She hadn’t got around to putting the washing machine on the last couple of days, she’d felt so sick. And worried. It was all she could do to get herself out of bed, get the twins off to school and herself to work. And Mark was no help – although he was being kind and supportive, he was either working or sleeping, often not getting home before the twins went to bed. Honestly, he practically lived at the supermarket since he’d been made regional manager.
‘It won’t be for long, babe, we’re just short-staffed right now. So many people on holiday,’ he’d told her before he’d left at six that morning.
‘Lucky them.’ The words had slipped out of her mouth before she could stop them and she instantly regretted them. It wasn’t Mark’s fault that they hadn’t been on holiday since the twins had been born. She shouldn’t have had a dig at him. The twins had come along unexpectedly, and the labour and birth had been difficult, then Max had been so ill most of his first year, Daisy had had to take such a lot of time off work and it had seriously affected their income. Not that Mark had complained, he’d just taken on more work himself and now been promoted as a reward, meaning he was away from home even more. Leaving the twins, the housework and everything else for Daisy to fit in alongside her part-time job as a dental receptionist.
‘Mummy!’ Molly tugged at her sleeve. ‘I want my smiley top.’
‘Well, you can’t, I haven’t had time to wash it,’ Daisy snapped then instantly regretted it as Molly’s face fell. She really could do without a tantrum right now. Yellow was her daughter’s favourite colour, and the smiley top her nan had given her for her birthday was her all-time favourite at the moment. ‘I’ll get it ready for tomorrow. Why don’t you go and wear your unicorn one? It will match your pink shorts,’ she suggested gently.
Max walked in wearing yesterday’s stripy T-shirt with an egg stain down the front and navy shorts. The twins were so different – Max didn’t care what he wore; food and playing with his tablet were his priorities. ‘I’m hungry,’ he said.
‘I’m just doing breakfast. Sit down – you too, Molly, you can get your T-shirt in a minute.’ Knowing Molly, she’d only get chocolate cereal all over her top and have to get changed again.
Daisy took two plastic bowls out of the cupboard and a box of chocolate cereal, pouring some into the bowls and adding milk then passing them over to the twins, who were now sitting at the table. Molly still had the sulky expression on her face, and Max was already playing on his tablet, from which an annoying jingle was repeating over and over.
Daisy’s head was thumping and she felt nauseous. She hoped it would ease soon; she couldn’t take another morning off work.
She made herself a peppermint tea and sat down at the kitchen table to sip it slowly. Finally the nausea in her stomach was bearable and she set off to take the twins to school, then herself on to work.
It had been a hectic morning and she was just having a much-needed refreshment break when a text came in. Idly she glanced at the screen and almost dropped the phone when she saw the name Phil. She had been trying to decide what to do ever since he’d phoned her the other day and hadn’t replied
to her message. Her hand shaking, she opened the text:
Need to see you. Urgent. Can you meet me in an hour at the Miller’s Arms?
Damn. He must have remembered something. Well, she wasn’t going to meet him. She couldn’t face seeing him. Not after how he’d acted the other day. She texted back:
Sorry, I’m busy. I’m working all morning. And I’ve got nothing to say to you.
A few minutes later a text pinged back.
Meet me after work then. Or shall I wait until Mark comes home and talk to you both?
She read his message twice, trying to figure out his motive. He had to be bluffing because surely if Phil had remembered their affair, he wouldn’t want Mark to find out about it, or Freya? She wanted to tell him to get lost but didn’t dare take the risk of him coming to the house when Mark was home. She couldn’t afford for Mark to have any doubts that this baby was his. She would have to meet Phil. He probably just wants to make sure I keep schtum and don’t tell Freya about our affair, she thought. Well, he needn’t worry about that. She wanted to forget it as much as he did.
You really are a slimeball, aren’t you? Well, I’m not meeting you at the pub, someone might see us. I’ll meet you at the park nearby at 1.30. And you’ll have to make it quick because I need to pick the kids up from school at 3.
She put her phone down, rested her head back in the chair and closed her eyes. Why the hell had she gone to see Phil and mentioned the affair to him? Why hadn’t she just kept her mouth shut? Because it made you angry that he had dumped you so callously then forgotten all about you after what you had risked for him. Because you believe Freya and realised Phil was feeding you lies for months. Because you suddenly realised what a total scumbag he is.
She took a deep breath and calmed herself down. She was jumping to conclusions. Phil might not have remembered the affair. He might have been thinking about what she had said and wanted to meet her for an explanation, an assurance that it wasn’t true. She hoped she could be convincing about that. She shouldn’t have told Freya about the baby either, not yet. Why couldn’t she keep her mouth shut instead of blurting things out? If Freya had told Phil, he might want to meet Daisy to ask her if the baby was his. She placed her hand over her stomach, where a new life was already forming. If only Mark hadn’t guessed that she was pregnant, she could have had an abortion and nobody would have been any the wiser, but now… It had to be Mark’s baby, it had to be. Even though you rarely have sex with him but were at it with Phil a few times a week?
She had been so stupid and reckless to risk her home, her family, her marriage for a meaningless fling. Because that was evidently all it was for Phil.
She buried her head in her hands. If only she could turn back the clock.
46
Phil
‘Was that her?’ Tom asked, putting another glass of orange juice on the table in front of Phil before sitting down, pint of lager in his hand.
Phil nodded. ‘I’m meeting her at the park at one thirty.’
‘Make sure you get the truth, Phil. You need to deal with this. It isn’t going to go away.’
‘Don’t worry. I will,’ Phil promised. He glanced anxiously at Tom. ‘You won’t tell anyone, will you?’
Tom zipped across his mouth with his finger. ‘My lips are sealed. We always keep each other’s secrets. Mind you, you probably can’t remember my recent ones, thank God.’ He laughed. ‘Now, let me fill you in on where we are with the course.’
The time went so quickly that Phil had a shock when he saw that it was quarter past one. ‘I’ve got to go, I’m meeting Daisy in a quarter of an hour,’ he said to Tom. He downed the rest of his orange juice and stood up.
‘Good luck… and Phil?’
‘Yeah?’
‘Sort out your bloody life, mate, because it’s a right mess.’
Phil shot him a steely look. ‘Don’t worry. I intend to.’
Daisy was sitting on a bench in the park, her eyes closed. He’d been expecting her to be watching, waiting for him, but he had almost reached her when she finally opened her eyes and spotted him.
‘You look tired,’ he said, sitting down beside her.
She edged away. ‘What do you want, Phil?’
‘The truth.’ He was facing her now, his eyes fixed on her face, determined to get to the answers he wanted. ‘Is that baby you’re carrying mine?’
She gasped and her hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wide, but he couldn’t make out if she was scared or shocked by his question.
Then she pulled herself together and threw him a contemptuous look. ‘What?’ She scoffed incredulously. ‘Of course it isn’t! Why would you even think that?’
‘Because you told me we were having an affair and I think you might have been telling the truth.’
She stood up, anger all over her face. ‘I told you I was just testing you. I love Mark and would never cheat on him. Especially not with you. I’m going now. I don’t want to have this conversation again.’
He sprang to his feet and grabbed her arm. ‘Then why did I have your number saved in my phone under the name of Billy? Did we have code names for each other?’
‘How the hell should I know?’ She got out her phone, swiped the screen and showed him his name and number. ‘See? No code name here.’
He was flummoxed for a moment. None of this made sense.
‘I told you, you kept phoning me, telling me Freya was abusing you. That’s probably why you gave me a false name. You didn’t want Freya to know that you were phoning her sister and telling lies about her.’
Daisy was staring at him defiantly. Was she telling the truth?
‘I had a flashback the other night, of me and you together…’
‘A dream, you mean, brought on by your own stupid imagination!’ she retorted.
If she was lying, she was a good at it. He kept his eyes on hers. ‘Look me in the face and tell me that we weren’t having an affair.’
She raised her eyes to meet his, held his gaze and said emphatically, ‘We were not having an affair. And this baby is most definitely not yours.’
He believed her. Relief surged through him and he nodded. ‘Good, because I’m quite certain I would never cheat on Freya, and if I did, it wouldn’t be with you.’
‘Believe me, the feeling is mutual.’ He could hear the loathing in her voice.
‘Then why did you say it?’
‘Oh, for God’s sake, how many times? I told you to trick you. To see if you really were the nice guy you pretended to be, or if you were aggressive as Freya said.’ She looked pointedly down at his arm still gripping hers. ‘Well, I can see that Freya was telling the truth.’ He released his grip and stared at her. ‘I saw the cut on Freya’s arm. You’d better not hurt her again, Phil. If you do, I’ll report you myself.’
Phil watched her as she walked away; was she lying to cover up the fact that they had had an affair, not wanting Mark to find out now she was pregnant? She’d sounded so convincing, though.
Then he remembered what Tom had said about the student and being on a second warning at the university. ‘Sort your life out, mate,’ he’d advised.
He was right. Phil couldn’t risk any of this getting back to Freya. He didn’t want to lose her.
47
Freya
‘Phil had such a rage in him.’ Aileen’s words repeated in Freya’s mind as she sat on the train on the way home. The meeting with Phil’s mother hadn’t turned out at all as she’d expected it to. Aileen had seemed nice, genuinely upset about the rift between Phil and the rest of his family, desperately wanting to see Phil again, ready to forgive him for nearly killing his father and causing him to have a stroke. Not that Phil knew about the stroke. Aileen said that she had tried to phone Phil a couple of days later to tell him that but couldn’t get through. Phil had blocked her, blocked all of them. They never heard from him again. The stroke had affected Charles’s mobility so after a few years they had moved into a bungalow, near to where Graham and
his new wife lived. Aileen had left a forwarding address with the people who bought the house from them, in case Phil turned up. But he never did.
They’d ordered lunch – both choosing an omelette and salad – and chatted for a couple of hours. Aileen had been easy to talk to, so happy to meet Freya and eager for information about Phil. She had wanted to know how Freya and Phil had met, about their wedding, their life, and was clearly upset about the occasions she’d missed. Freya showed her some photos on her phone, even texting her a couple of Phil. It had been a pleasant couple of hours and the conversation had flowed easily. Aileen had insisted on paying the bill, begging Freya one more time as she left to try to persuade Phil to meet up with her and Charles. Freya was determined to try her best, but she wasn’t sure how to go about it.
Phil had told her he’d walked out because he was sick of his family choosing Graham over him. Freya believed Aileen’s story, though. She had seen that rage of Phil’s and knew that he could get violent. The first time Phil had actually hit her, it had shaken her to the core. They had only been married ten months, one week and two days.
It was February and had been cold and drizzly for weeks. Freya was off work with a bad cold and cough and had had a restless night. It seemed like she’d only just dozed off when she heard Phil jump out of bed.
