The Ex-Boyfriend: A completely addictive and shocking psychological thriller

by Rona Halsall

  Finally, after dithering for ten minutes, she ran for help.

  When she got back to the den, with Rosie’s mum running behind her, Rosie was dead.

  If Becca had got help sooner, Rosie would still be alive. At least that’s what Rosie’s mum had said at the time. Becca knew that a lot of people on their estate and many kids at their school had thought the same.

  She’d lived with the guilt ever since. It had spurred her on to train as a nurse because then, she reasoned, she’d always know what to do. Then she would never again be in a position where, because of something she did, somebody died who should have lived.

  Now, she didn’t listen to her training, her years of experience; she listened to her regrets, and she picked up the phone and rang the doctor’s surgery. Small children were so vulnerable, there was no sense in taking chances, whatever Dean might think. It can’t hurt to have a second opinion, she told herself as she waited for the phone to be answered. At least the doctor would listen to her. They’d pay attention.

  8

  A virus, Dr Graham thought. Mia was tired after a bad night’s sleep, but she’d surprised Becca by eating her breakfast, and by the time they were seen by the doctor, she was bright and chatty. Still, Dr Graham had taken her concerns seriously and given Mia a thorough examination, asking Becca to bring samples if it happened again so they could do further checks. Becca left the doctor’s surgery, which was also the base for the district nurses’ team, feeling relieved.

  Her boss, Carol, caught up with her when she was on her way out. ‘Everything okay?’ she asked, flicking a glance at Mia, who was tugging at Becca’s hand, trying to pull her out of the door and to the playground – the promised treat for being a good girl for the doctor.

  ‘Yes, yes, just me double-checking. Dr Graham thinks it’s a virus, nothing to worry about.’ She laughed and rolled her eyes. ‘As you can see, there appears to be nothing wrong with her now. And I’m so sorry to let you down after promising I’d work today.’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry about that – you’ve got to put your family first.’ She gave her a smile and Becca knew she’d been forgiven. Carol was very fair like that. ‘Lisa said she’d do an extra shift if you’d swap with her on Saturday so she can go and do wedding shopping with her sister. Would that be okay?’ Carol put her hands together, praying for the right answer.

  Becca thought for a moment. It would mean leaving her dad in charge of Mia for four hours. Five at the most if there were any complications. Two days in a row. She’d done it without a second thought when Mia had been a baby, her dad so gentle and patient, she’d had no qualms about trusting him. It was the fact that Mia was such a busy child these days, exhausting to entertain at times and she didn’t want him to get over-tired. The memory of his heart attack was always there, sitting at the back of her mind – a reminder that she’d nearly lost him. But that was four years ago now and his doctor was delighted with his recovery. In fact, you’d never know he’d been so ill. She remembered how well Mia and Frank had been playing the evening before, how much they obviously enjoyed each other’s company, and she knew she was worrying too much again.

  ‘Yes, I’m sure I can do that. But remind me, or I’ll forget. Memory like a sieve at the moment.’ She glanced at Mia, who was still tugging at her hand, impatient to get outside. ‘Look at her. I feel like a bit of an idiot bringing her in, to be honest.’

  ‘Best to be sure, though, isn’t it?’ Carol gave her shoulder a reassuring pat. ‘Trust your instincts, love. Must have been something that got you worried.’

  Becca thought for a moment. ‘It was just so sudden, you know? She’d been happily playing, eaten her tea fine. No hint of anything, no temperature or complaining that her tummy hurt.’ She frowned. ‘I got her to bed at a reasonable time for once and then, wham, it all started. No build-up, no warning signs or anything.’

  Carol gave a sympathetic tut. ‘You know when they’re not right, don’t you? Especially with your nursing experience. At least the doctor’s put your mind at rest, but if you’re not happy, be sure to bring her back.’

  ‘I did try and be rational about it, but something didn’t sit right with me. And you know what it’s like when it’s your own kids. You sort of doubt yourself.’

  Carol cocked her head and studied Becca’s face. ‘You’re looking shattered, love. Are you sure you’ll be all right for your shift tomorrow? You’re not going down with anything, are you?’ She grimaced. ‘If you think it might be norovirus, or anything like that, it would be better not to come in. You know how frail some of our patients are, and we’ll manage somehow.’ She gave a little laugh. ‘We always do, don’t we?’

  Becca nodded. ‘I did think about that, but honestly, I’m feeling absolutely fine. I just need a good night’s sleep. Dad’s coming over to keep an eye on Mia, so I don’t have to worry about childcare tomorrow, even if she’s not so well in the morning. Anyway, if things change and I do go down with it, I’ll ring straight away.’

  Carol held up her hands, fingers crossed. ‘Let’s hope you’re right.’

  They said their goodbyes and Becca put Mia in her buggy, even though she wanted to walk, because they were by the busy main road and she was always worried about her running out into the traffic. At least if Mia was fastened in her seat, she was safe.

  Becca thought about her conversation with Carol as she pushed Mia down the road, singing songs to keep her from fussing about being in the buggy. It was odd that Becca hadn’t come down with the illness too, given that she couldn’t have avoided coming into contact with a virus. But what else could it be? Maybe it was those old toys. Becca’s eyes widened. Yes, that’s it. They could be crawling with bacteria if they’d been stuffed away for years.

  It seemed a more likely explanation. At least the unicorn had been through the wash now, but she’d make sure that the other animal Mia had brought home was washed as well. Then she’d have done everything she reasonably could.

  Feeling better now she’d got her thoughts properly organised, she sped up and they were soon at the playground, which she was glad to see was empty. Mia ran off with her unicorn to play in the little house under the slide, and Becca flopped onto the nearby seat.

  Her phone pinged in her bag and she fished it out.

  Her heart gave a little flip. Connor had replied to her message.

  No wife and no children. But you have a daughter? How lovely. Does she look like you?

  Becca glanced up to see what Mia was doing. Once she saw that she was engrossed in some imaginary game, she quickly sent a reply.

  She does. A proper mini-me! Dean jokes that there’s nothing of him in her.

  She found a recent picture of Mia and attached it before she could stop and work out if that was a bad idea. A reply pinged back almost straight away, and she realised with a jolt of excitement that Connor was online now. She thought about the time differences. It was probably the only time of day when they were both likely to be awake.

  Oh, she’s a cutie. Just like her mum :) Same lovely eyes as you. She suits pink. I remember you in that pink bikini. My favourite ;)

  She smiled to herself, his cheeky response wrapping her in a momentary glow that felt like a hug. She could almost picture his face as he’d typed his reply, a little smirk twitching at his lips.

  And I will never forget those budgie smugglers you used to wear sometimes! :0

  She was blushing as she typed, remembering his athletic body clothed only in a tiny pair of Speedos, all long limbs and bronzed skin. He’d been a champion swimmer in his youth, and it had still showed in his broad shoulders and muscular physique when she’d met him.

  Yeah. At least I’ve seen sense now. Those were the days, hanging out on the beach, golden sunsets. I loved the way you used to put flowers in your hair. Beautiful.

  The warm glow spread until it filled her heart, which started to beat a little faster. She glanced up to check on Mia, before sending her reply.

  Long time ago.

>   His next message came quickly.

  Feels like yesterday. In fact, I think about you every day, Becca. Such special times. We had some conversations, didn’t we? And you’ve got such a lovely voice. I used to say you should be on the radio, didn’t I?

  The glow expanded round her entire body. He had said that. He’d said her voice was so sexy he’d even listen to the news if she was reading it. Being with Connor had been such a tonic for her confidence because he’d so obviously adored her and hadn’t been afraid to say so.

  You also said I could talk the hind leg off a donkey.

  She waited, her eyes glued to the screen for his response, a laugh caught in her throat.

  Ha ha! The donkey wouldn’t mind, though. Seriously, Becca, I would have happily listened to you talking all day. No worries. In fact, I did most days ;)

  Her fingers flew over her screen as she typed her reply, giggling to herself.

  Cheeky! I do remember we had a lot to talk about. It wasn’t just me, was it?

  She glanced up, relieved to see Mia still enjoying herself playing house under the slide, chattering away to the unicorn. Connor had pulled open the door to hidden feelings, ones that she’d thought had vanished into the past, and she didn’t want to shut them back inside just yet. She was having fun. Harmless fun. And what was wrong with that?

  I always thought you were my soulmate, Becca. We thought the same, didn’t we? I miss being able to talk about things without worrying I’m going to be laughed at.

  Becca closed her eyes for a moment, his words echoing exactly how she’d felt about being with him. It had been effortless. Until she’d decided she’d had enough of travelling and wanted to be settled. She’d understood that their adventures were a moment in time, not real life, just a step off the hamster wheel. At some point they’d have to get back on, but he’d been in denial. That’s when they’d started to argue. That’s when she’d ruined things, wanting to rush their relationship to the next stage, asking for commitment.

  She was wondering what to say next when Mia came running over.

  ‘Can I go on the swings, Mummy?’ She grabbed Becca’s hand and started tugging. ‘Come on. Will you push me?’

  Hiding her disappointment at having to curtail her chat with Connor, Becca shoved her phone in her pocket and allowed Mia to lead her to the swings, her mind travelling back in time to the day that changed her fate. The day that took her away from Connor, to a different future altogether.

  9

  Just over ten years ago, it was the day of her mother’s funeral – an emotional day for any child, even when the child had become an adult. But it was especially difficult given the unresolved issues that had formed a barrier between Becca and her mum. After Becca’s suspension from work and her subsequent mental health problems, a lot of things had gone unsaid – consequently, her mum’s sudden death was not only shocking but left a mountain of regrets about not clearing the air, not knowing how their relationship actually stood at the end. Becca had practically run off to Australia without a backwards glance, hurt by her mother’s reluctance to try and understand her situation and how she was feeling. Her mum was one of the ‘keep calm and carry on’ brigade who kept her feelings to herself most of the time and took whatever problems life threw at her in her stride. She hadn’t understood why Becca couldn’t do the same.

  Communication between them while Becca had been away was sporadic at best. Then the news had come that her mum had died, a sudden stroke when she was alone in the house. Frank had found her when he’d arrived home from work, slumped on the sofa where she’d obviously been watching something on TV. He’d thought she was asleep, had tiptoed around for a little while, even made her a cup of tea and only found out something was wrong when he’d felt the chill of her skin.

  The wake was held in a hotel in Llandudno, which stood on the corner of a long row of Victorian properties that ran along the promenade. Her mother had loved to go there for afternoon tea, and it was the venue for many a family celebration. Birthdays, wedding anniversaries, coming of age, Kate’s ill-fated engagement party. And now her mother’s funeral tea. It felt terribly fitting and unbearably sad, and Becca availed herself of far too many glasses of wine from the waiter’s tray.

  Feeling nauseous and unable to cope with the sympathies of all those people her sociable mother had known, she fled outside to get some fresh air, heading for the promenade. She checked her messages, upset that there was still no word from Connor.

  It was one of those calm sunny days, no waves on the surface of the sea, which reflected the deep blue of the sky. It shimmered, so inviting she thought she’d go and have a paddle. It was one of her mum’s favourite things to do, and she wanted to go back in time to when she was a child, a time when they’d let the waves lap around their ankles, caressing and tickling their skin, making them scream at the coldness of the water. She wanted to remember her mum from the time before Becca’s troubles came between them.

  In her haste to get to the sea – and unsteady on her feet after too much wine on an empty stomach – she managed to trip over and took a tumble down the short flight of steps that led to the beach.

  A man in running gear rushed over to help. That man was Dean. After making sure she wasn’t injured, he pulled her to her feet and led her to the steps to sit for a moment. Flustered and embarrassed, she felt a need to explain, and he said he understood because his dad had recently died, and they’d been estranged for a couple of years. Becca and Dean bonded over their regrets and they stayed on the steps for hours, talking about their relationships with their parents and death and how life was shaped by random moments. It was easier, somehow, to talk to a stranger about her deepest feelings than it was to share with her family.

  As evening fell and the air chilled, they grabbed fish and chips, and later, desperate to stay a little longer with someone who understood how conflicted she was feeling, she went home with him. An impulsive decision which caused a whole new set of problems.

  ‘So, where’ve you been, then?’ her dad asked when she arrived home the following morning, still in her funeral clothes. He’d opened the door before she’d had a chance to use her key, and it felt like he’d been waiting for her. Perhaps he had. His shoulders were tense, his jaw set, the muscles in his cheeks moving as if he was chewing something. Anger sparked in his eyes and she felt like her teenage self, arriving home after curfew. Frank had been strict like that. Protective.

  ‘Oh, I just… I um… I stayed with a friend.’ She squeezed past him into the hallway and noticed Kate then, halfway down the stairs. Her face was puffy, eyes red from crying, and although she didn’t say anything, her glare was enough to communicate that she was just as angry with Becca as her dad was.

  The sinews in Frank’s neck pulled tight as he leant towards her, one hand still grasping the open door, the other pointing at her as he spoke.

  ‘You walked out of your mother’s funeral, not a word to anyone about where you were going, and then you stay out all night with a “friend”?’ His sarcasm sliced her excuse into shreds, his eyes popping out of his face.

  She recoiled and inched backwards until she collided with the wall behind her.

  ‘We didn’t know where you were,’ Kate said, coming down the stairs. She leant against the bannister at the bottom, arms folded across her chest. Becca was pinned now between the two of them, heart racing. ‘Poor Dad was frantic.’

  Becca understood then how selfish she’d been, wrapped up in her own grief with no thought for the rest of her family. Not understanding they might be worried about her. Or how it would look when she didn’t return to the wake. Like she didn’t care.

  ‘Oh, Dad, I’m so sorry. I just couldn’t cope with all those people. I know they were Mum’s friends, but I don’t know any of them and they were all over me.’ She bit her lip, knew it sounded feeble. Her eyes flicked between the stony stares of Kate and her dad. ‘I’m just…’ Her voice thickened with tears. ‘I’m really struggling.’


  Frank slammed the front door shut, making her jump. Her heart raced even faster. ‘And you think we’re not struggling as well?’ His face crumpled then, chin quivering, eyes brimming as he fought his emotions. ‘I’ve just lost my wife of thirty-two years.’ He covered his face with his hands, shoulders shaking as sobs wracked his body.

  Kate gave Becca a look that said it was all her fault before going to Frank and trying to comfort him.

  Becca escaped to her room, aware there was nothing she could say to make things better because it would just sound like excuses. The only way to make amends was to offer practical support, and she threw herself into taking on all the household jobs that had been left since her mum had died.

  A week later, when Kate had to go back to work in Manchester, Becca readily agreed to stay with Frank. She changed her plane ticket back to Australia, delaying it by a couple of months. Then she sent a message to Connor to explain the situation. When she didn’t receive a reply, she assumed he was out of reach on his trip. Or perhaps his continued silence meant he’d decided that their relationship was over. She waited but didn’t hear from him again.

  In the meantime, she met up with Dean quite regularly. Not dates, as such, she told herself, just socialising with a friend, drawn to him, to their bond of loss and his comfortable friendship. She felt guilty about sleeping with him on the day of her mum’s funeral, and even though she and Connor had agreed a break to their relationship, it felt too soon to be moving on. She remembered his kindness taking her to the airport, the spark between them still there. It felt like unfinished business, a lingering connection not properly severed.