On the last evening, I went down to the kitchen to get us a bottle of champagne. We’d indulged ourselves a lot, during the visit, something we’d have to tone down when we got home.
‘What was he doing?’ said a voice in the kitchen.
‘Taking pictures,’ Old Freddie sneered. ‘One of those new phone things.’
I paused at the doorway. Why did Freddie speak about Tom in that way?
‘She lets him do as he pleases,’ Mrs Tanner’s voice carried out to the hallway and I knew then it was her that had spoken earlier.
‘The Missus always indulged him,’ Old Freddie agreed. ‘He’s just spoilt.’
‘Shhh!’ said Mrs Tanner dropping her voice. ‘I think someone’s out there.’
I coughed then, making my presence known before I entered the kitchen.
‘Good evening,’ I said acknowledging them both. They were sitting at the kitchen table eating the same supper that Mrs Tanner had given us earlier.
Mrs Tanner nodded at me; her expression blank. I got the champagne and two fresh glasses, then left the kitchen, wishing them goodnight.
I made a lot of noise going back to the staircase, and then, when I thought they’d think me long gone, I made my way back to eavesdrop.
‘I’ve worked here a long time, Freddie, too long,’ Mrs Tanner said.
‘We both have.’
‘Sometimes I wonder why I’ve stayed …’
And then Mrs Tanner’s voice dropped again. I hurried away, not wanting to be caught listening to their conversation.
I was confused by what I’d heard. Mrs Tanner appeared to be less than happy working for Isadora these days and didn’t care much for Tom either. Maybe in his youth he’d been difficult. It would explain Old Freddie’s comment about Tom being spoilt. On some level I knew he was, but he was never rude to the staff at the Manor that I’d observed, and I’d always thought Mrs Tanner was loyal to Isadora.
I decided not to mention Mrs Tanner’s dislike of Tom and his mother as I climbed the stairs. Isadora was a very difficult woman though, and I understood why her employees might resent her. I tried to imagine what it was like working at the Manor with Isadora’s overzealous attitude to cleanliness and her constant need for perfection. I really didn’t blame either of them for feeling resentful. Hadn’t I always disliked her too?
The next morning, I woke to hear the wind whistling around the balcony on our room. I rolled over and found Tom was absent. Sometimes he got up early and went jogging in the woods. I lay in the bed thinking about how frightening it would be staying in this big house alone. There were unfamiliar noises, creaking that sounded like footsteps on the stairs. The groaning of the heating system as it cooled down. There was the steady tick of an old grandfather clock that stood in one of the corridors, the sound echoing through the house.
I went to the balcony window and looked out on the grounds. Our room was in the wing above the kitchens and the gardens we’d explored a few days ago by the woodland. There was a figure walking the grounds and I recognized Old Freddie then, walking with the shotgun held before him as though hunting something late at night. A few seconds later he fired. I jumped even though I’d been expecting him to fire from the moment he raised the sight to his eye. I had an irrational fear as I recalled Tom’s preference for running in the woods. What if Old Freddie had just shot him?
Freddie plunged into the woodland out of sight but emerged a few minutes later with a large rabbit hanging in his free hand. The shotgun was once again cracked open and over his shoulder.
Culling rabbits was such a normal thing for a groundkeeper to do, but the coldness with which Old Freddie wielded the shotgun brought a slight shiver to my spine.
Chapter Twenty-Two
‘I wanted to see you first,’ I said to Isadora at our weekly lunch date a month later.
‘Is everything okay?’ she asked.
‘You were right. Things are better. And …’
‘What is it Charlotte?’
‘I’m pregnant.’
‘Oh my god. Tom must be thrilled!’
‘I haven’t told him yet,’ I said.
Isadora sat back in her seat and studied me. ‘Why not?’
‘I’m a little nervous. After the last time, I thought I had better wait and make sure first.’
‘Sensible,’ said Isadora. ‘But he’ll want to know. He’s wanted this for a long time.’
I frowned. ‘I do. It’s a little scary the idea of being a mother.’
‘Pity me then. I’ll be a grandmother!’
I laughed.
‘Thank you.’
‘What for?’
‘You helped us. What you told me.’
‘I’ve always wanted to help you,’ she said. ‘I’d do anything for Tom.’
Taking Isadora’s advice again, I told Tom the news as soon as he came home.
‘I think it happened in Surrey,’ I said.
‘You’ve made me so happy, Charlotte!’ he said.
As Isadora predicted, Tom wanted to be involved with everything, even my first visit to the doctor. Isadora let me make my own decisions about where I would have the baby but she offered advice when asked. We were growing into a proper family that respected each other’s views.
Once or twice my anxiety returned, but I shook away the feeling. There was nothing to be afraid of; our life was back on track.
Once I learnt I was pregnant I accepted everything that came with it and because of my previous miscarriage I took the medical advice seriously. This was the final step to helping us recover from the awful thing Ewan had done.
Tom’s usually vigorous lovemaking became gentle and he was always concerned that he didn’t put too much weight on me or hurt me.
We had the spare room turned into a nursery with a neutral colour scheme, because every time we had a scan, they could never determine the baby’s sex. ‘It’s always got its legs crossed,’ I explained to Isadora, ‘so I suppose we are just going to have to be surprised.’
The final piece of furniture was in place: a padded and comfortable rocking chair, a present from Isadora.
‘You’ll need a good nursing chair,’ she said after it was delivered.
Tom made sure he spent more time at home too, managing all but the occasional interruption during our evenings. We fell into new habits of domesticity: cooking together sometimes. I think this was the most natural we’d ever been. Tom also wanted to share the experience of shopping for the baby too. I didn’t make a decision without him, or he one without me. My love for him returned. Whether that was because it had never really gone, or because of the excitement of being parents, I wasn’t sure.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Even though I was pregnant I took on the running of the next Carlisle Charity Fundraiser. Isadora helped and supported, and I shared all my plans with her before the charity committee heard them, because I knew she would steer me in the right direction.
‘How many people will be there?’ asked the catering manager at the taster. Isadora had already left for a hair appointment, but it was an answer she would have known immediately.
‘Oh,’ I said. ‘I’m not sure.’
I didn’t want to bother Isadora. She had been encouraging me to be independent and take the lead. Then it occurred to me that Tom’s PA, Gillian, had all the information on her database at the office. The invitations hadn’t gone out and the fundraiser was four months away.
‘I’ll email you tomorrow with the predicted number,’ I told the catering manager.
The caterers were not far from Carlisle Corp’s offices. It was 4.30 p.m. when I finished the tasting and it made more sense to head to Tom’s office than to go home. I could see his secretary and arrange for her to send the invitations urgently, and then travel home with Tom in the limo. Being almost seven months pregnant a comfortable ride home really appealed to me.
Outside I caught a black cab and gave the driver the address. The folder full of information about the fundr
aiser was heavy and I was tired as I leaned back in the seat and closed my eyes, letting the movement of the taxi lull me.
It was 5.05 p.m. when I reached the office. Tom left at 5.30, so I had plenty of time. I paid the taxi driver and entered the building.
‘Well hello, Mrs Carlisle,’ said George, the doorman, as he opened the door. I hadn’t been to the office much recently and it was nice to see a friendly face. ‘I’ll radio up and let Mr C know you’re here.’
‘That’s okay. I’ll surprise him,’ I said.
George nodded and was instantly distracted as another person came through the door. I went to the lift and pressed the call button. As the doors opened a rough-looking man passed me and headed towards the exit. I entered the lift and pressed the button to take me up to the top floor. Before the doors closed, I noted the man’s shoes. They were mud-splattered brogues. I had a feeling of déjà vu, but the doors closed before I could get a better look at the man. My heart thudded in my chest and I felt sick. Where had I seen brogues just like that? I had a flash of memory that I just couldn’t place.
‘Can I help you?’ said the receptionist outside of Gillian and Tom’s office. ‘Oh it’s you, Mrs Carlisle. You’re looking well!’
I smiled and thanked the girl. I didn’t remember her name; it was Alice or Anna, something like that.
‘I’m just going to see my husband’s PA first, but can you let him know I’m here?’
‘Of course!’
I turned left and walked straight into Gillian’s office. A girl I didn’t recognize was putting paperwork away in a filing cabinet.
‘I’m here to see Gillian,’ I said. ‘Is she around?’
‘Gillian? I’m sorry no one by that name works here. Can I help you? I’m Mr Carlisle’s PA.’
Tom came into the office behind me.
‘Charlotte? What are you doing here?’
I glanced over my shoulder at him and then back at the new PA. ‘I thought I’d surprise you. Plus Gillian had the invitation list stored on her database …’
Tom looked confused, ‘Gillian? Oh, she left months ago.’
‘What?’
‘Come,’ Tom said.
I followed him into his office, and he offered me a seat. I placed my handbag and the folder on his desk, then glanced around. I hadn’t been here that often and it always surprised me how sparse, yet ostentatious this room was. As well as Tom’s desk, which was about six feet wide, there was an area with two sofas facing each other and a low coffee table between them. To the left of the room was a row of tidy filing cabinets and to the right another door which led into Tom’s private bathroom.
‘You didn’t mention Gillian had left,’ I said.
‘We’ve both had more important things to talk about. Darling you look tired.’
‘I am. I thought I’d travel home with you tonight.’
‘Wonderful idea! Why don’t we stop somewhere on the way home to eat? So that you don’t have to cook.’
I said it was a good idea, but my eyes kept straying to his assistant’s office.
‘She came into some money,’ Tom said.
I looked back at him.
‘Gillian. So, she took early retirement. I didn’t mention it because you and I weren’t on such good terms at the time.’
‘She worked here for years.’
‘Even before my time!’ Tom laughed. ‘Probably overdue to retire.’
‘Can your new one help?’
‘Tara’s her name,’ Tom said.
And even this was odd. In the months since Gillian left, he had never mentioned Tara. I would have remembered that name.
‘Of course, the data will still be there. You’ll probably have to tell her what file to look in though.’
Tom opened his door and told Tara to find the information for me. I went out into the office and sat down before her desk while she looked.
‘I’m so sorry.’ Tara looked embarrassed. ‘I should have recognized you. Mr Carlisle has your picture on his desk.’
‘I’m somewhat plumper than usual at the moment,’ I said.
‘When are you due?’ she asked.
‘Two months.’
Tara returned her concentration to the computer.
‘I’m sorry, I just can’t find it.’
‘May I look? I don’t know what she had it under, but I might recognize it.’
Tara stood up and we swapped places while I waded through the files on Gillian’s old PC. There was nothing obvious. Then I found an extra server entitled ‘Other’ and browsed it.
‘Can I get you a drink, Mrs Carlisle?’ Tara asked.
‘Some water would be nice.’
Tara went away to get me a glass of chilled water and that was when I saw the charity folder, right next to one that said, ‘E Daniels’.
I had sorted through the folders looking for the charity’s name. It was a small children’s cancer charity, run by a man called David Danner. When I searched ‘Dan’ the folder came up and so did this one.
My hand froze on the mouse and then, as I was about to double-click the Daniels folder, Tom came into Tara’s office. Blood rushed to my cheeks as Tom approached Tara’s desk.
I clicked on the fundraiser folder and opened the spreadsheet file inside, filling Tara’s screen.
Tom was beside me, placing something in the input tray.
‘You’ve found it,’ he said. ‘Where’s Tara?’
Tara came through the door with my water and I gave her the seat back and took the glass.
‘Are you okay for a few minutes, darling, while I explain to Tara about the list?’ I said.
Tom nodded and went back into his office.
‘Do you have a spare pen drive?’ I asked Tara.
She rooted around in the table drawer of her desk. ‘There are some unused ones in here.’
Then she shook her head.
‘Sorry, someone else might have taken them. Can I email it you?’
‘Yes. And the one called E Daniels.’
I gave her my email address.
‘Charlotte?’ Tom said from the doorway.
I turned and looked at my husband, his face was serious and I knew he had heard my request.
‘Can I speak to you?’ Tom said to me. ‘Tara – just send the other file. The E Daniels one is nothing to do with the fundraiser.’
‘Yes Mr Carlisle,’ Tara said.
Tom took a step back, holding his door open as an invitation for me to come in. I walked inside feeling like a naughty teenager who had been called into the head teacher’s office.
Tom closed the door firmly behind us, blocking Tara out.
‘Sit down, darling,’ he said.
‘What the hell’s going on?’ I asked. ‘Why do you have a folder called “E Daniels”?’
‘Please don’t get upset. I was going to tell you.’
‘Tell me what?’ I said.
I was shaking. Seeing Ewan’s name had been a huge shock but my first response to it had been to feel guilty. My face was still warm as I sank back into the chair I’d occupied a few minutes earlier.
‘I had a private detective look into Daniels after what he did. I wanted to find out who he was. I didn’t tell you because things came right between us and I didn’t want to open old wounds.’
‘How did you know his name?’
He sighed and looked at his desk. ‘I had to know who he was.’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘I was jealous. So I looked on your phone while you slept.’
I absorbed that information for a moment and couldn’t find fault with him for doing it. Of course he would have looked at my phone. Anyone would want to know who the man was his wife had had an affair with.
‘What did you find out about him?’ I asked. I took a breath and forced myself to calm down, to look like I was only mildly curious.
‘Not much. Except what you already know: that he was a liar using a fake name.’
‘What is his real name?’
Tom si
ghed. ‘I don’t know. The paper trail just revealed “Ewan Daniels” using credit cards, registering in restaurants and so on during the time you were together and then … nothing. He didn’t exist. But he obviously had money. No one can invent a whole fake identity like that without it.’
‘Of course he had money. He paid for everything when I was with him … it wasn’t what he wanted from me.’
Tom blinked. I saw the hurt in his eyes and then I changed the subject.
‘Why? Why did you check into him?’
‘I hoped we would be able to work things out. But at first I thought I may need to prove what an evil dick he was to you.’
‘No,’ I said. ‘I knew that already. You would have been rubbing it in.’
Tom kneeled by the chair and he took my cold hands in his. I was still trembling. I couldn’t believe how upset I was just by seeing Ewan’s name on a folder on Tom’s secretary’s computer.
‘I want to see what’s in that folder,’ I said.
‘That’s not a good idea. Charlotte, this man hurt you. I love you and I would never have rubbed it in. I wanted you back. I wanted to protect you from him in the future too.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I was worried. Scared he’d come back into our lives and ruin everything again.’
I didn’t say anything. I felt sick and tired and cold. The only thing I knew was that Tom had never lied to me. He had been constant, even though I’d hurt him. I pulled him to me and held him against my pregnancy-swollen breasts and the bulge of my stomach.
‘I love you,’ I said. ‘And I’m so sorry for everything.’
‘Darling that’s the first time you’ve said you love me since …’
‘I know. I couldn’t, it felt … I don’t know. I didn’t think you’d believe me.’
My stomach jerked as the baby kicked hard.
‘Ouch!’ I said. ‘We may have a footballer in there!’
Tom laughed and kissed my stomach and then my lips.
‘Let me take you home,’ he said.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Tom took me to our favourite Italian restaurant on the way.
‘We’ll get a taxi back from here,’ he told Stefan. ‘Have the evening off and I’ll see you in the morning.’
The Stranger in Our Bed: An absolutely gripping psychological thriller that will keep you hooked Page 11
