“What’s that?”
“Nothing. It’s—” Cassie began, her voice squeaky with panic, but Dylan interrupted.
“It’s a pregnancy test, Maddie. It’s what you take to find out if you are going to have a baby.”
Even though he’d claimed to be helping Cassie, Dylan sounded gleeful as he informed Madison of the facts.
“Why would Cassie be having a baby?”
“Well, let me see,” Dylan began. “Shall I explain? I’m not sure you would understand.”
Abruptly, Cassie snapped. “Stop it!” she screamed, so loud that Madison took a step back.
“Dylan, you will not behave like this. Stop taunting Madison. It’s not fair and it is not kind. And I am furious with you. You know the rules on stealing. I told you, you’re not allowed to. Not for me, not for anyone, not just because you can. You’re going to get into so much trouble. This is putting your entire future at risk. You have to stop doing it. Now!”
Cassie felt lightheaded after her outburst—with rage, and also because she’d been hyperventilating.
Dylan’s lips were clamped together and he was looking just as angry as her. Staring at his face—those blank eyes and that shut-down expression—she felt a thrill of fear.
“Go to your room,” she ordered, trying not to show him how afraid she was. “I’ll speak to you in a minute.”
She had no idea whether he would do as she asked, or even listen to her at all, but after a pause that felt like an eternity, he turned and walked away. Cassie let out a shaky breath, bitterly regretting her outburst.
“What is that thing, Cassie?” Madison asked again. She sounded tearful but her voice was full of determination.
“It’s a test women can do, to find out if they are having a baby,” Cassie said, knowing that her response was pathetically incomplete, but she had no idea how much Madison knew about the facts of life and this was certainly not the time or place to enlighten her.
“How do you tell?” Madison sounded worried.
“You pee on the stick,” Cassie told her. “Your pee is different if you’re going to have a baby, and the stick can tell the difference.”
“So why did you take the test?”
“Because I wasn’t feeling well, and I wanted to check this wasn’t the reason.”
“Do I need to take it?” Madison looked worried. “I was feeling sick yesterday. Mum’s food always makes me ill.”
“No, no, feeling sick from food is different. Besides, you can only take this test when you’re older,” Cassie said.
“Oh.”
Madison still sounded confused but Cassie thought she had managed to give her enough information for the subject to have lost its fascination.
“Maddie, you can choose supper tonight,” Cassie said. “Go and have a look in the kitchen and decide what you’d like me to cook.”
“OK. I will.”
Brightening up, Madison turned and left the bathroom.
Cassie collapsed on the edge of the bath and buried her face in her hands.
Madison’s honesty and outspokenness meant that she was like an echo chamber. The chances of her mentioning this, or repeating what Cassie had said, in front of her parents were extremely high. In fact, it was a certainty.
Never mind that she’d told Ryan she’d been single for months; Cassie knew she’d better dream up an alternative story about an ex-boyfriend she’d met up with while in London.
This bare-faced lie would be essential to prevent Trish from suspecting the truth.
The problem was that it wouldn’t wash with Dylan.
He knew what the pregnancy test was and he’d seen her going to Ryan’s bedroom in the night. Dylan knew exactly what was going on, and by screaming at him, Cassie had made him angry. Dylan held all the cards now, and she could only imagine what his revenge might be.
She couldn’t use the threat of telling his father about this theft. Cassie was sure Dylan knew exactly why she wouldn’t do that now.
When Cassie knocked on his door, hoping to smooth things over, Dylan refused to answer.
There was no lock on the inside. She could have flung the door open and marched in and demanded that they discuss this. But she decided not to, because it would only make Dylan angrier.
Instead, she said, softly, “Dylan, I’m sorry I shouted. We need to talk about this. Tell me when you’re ready.”
Cassie waited, hoping for an answer, but when none came she turned away, feeling cold with fear and utterly alone.
She headed to the kitchen, unable to stop thinking about the furious words she’d screamed at Dylan, and the way he had shut down; his face blank and immobile, his eyes emotionless.
She should never have snapped at him that way. His behavior had proved to her that he was not normal emotionally, and that he would make a dangerous adversary. The only reason she had lost control was that she was petrified by the consequences of a pregnancy.
Her emotions felt like a toxic melting pot, and she’d let them all out on the one person who, in his own twisted way, had been trying to help her.
She’d had one ally in this house. Now, thanks to her own actions, she had nobody.
She heard his bedroom door open a few minutes later, but he didn’t speak to her or come through to the kitchen. Instead, he headed outside and when she hurried after him, she found he had set off into the darkening evening on his bicycle.
Now, worry about him was added to her emotional burden. She had no idea which direction he’d gone, and doubted whether he should be riding so late. If he wasn’t back by the time it was fully dark, she’d have to go out and look for him.
In the meantime, Cassie started preparing the roast chicken that Madison had asked for, but she was so distracted that she got the oven settings totally wrong.
When she opened the oven, black smoke billowed out.
The bird was charred on top, but when she carved it, she found it was still raw and bloody inside.
“Oh, hell,” she said, staring down at the inedible meat, thinking of Madison’s disappointment and her own incompetence.
She should have ordered takeout. Why had she attempted to cook when she was so distracted, and when she felt actual physical pain visualizing Ryan and Trish on their overnight trip?
She knew they were together as a couple; this was no “business trip.” She had seen it in their looks, their touches, how he’d kissed her, and the way they had flirted and romanced in front of her.
What were they doing now? Heading into early evening they would be inside, perhaps having a private wine tasting. She imagined them seated at a table near a roaring fire, their legs brushing, their hands clasping from time to time. She imagined how Ryan was looking at Trish, and the expression in his eyes, and how they would talk and laugh, sharing in-jokes that were part of their own private language after more than a decade of married life.
And here she was, her sanity unraveling, with a ruined meal and children who hated her and a whole world of fears pressing down on her shoulders.
Cassie collapsed onto a chair, buried her face in her hands, and sobbed.
It felt like hours later, but was probably only a few minutes, when she heard the front door slam. Knowing Dylan was back forced her to pick herself up and carry on. She sensed it would be foolish to show weakness in front of him, and worse to show fear, no matter how she was shaking inside.
“Hello, Dylan,” she called out, and felt enormous relief when he called back a casual “Hi.”
This small encouragement gave her the strength of will she needed.
She could not let this family destroy her.
As soon as Ryan got back, she would be free to leave, and this time, she wouldn’t allow herself to be swayed by any of his lies.
The chicken was salvageable. If she cut off the burnt part and put the rest back in a lower oven, it should be edible.
Meanwhile, Cassie decided, she was going to use the gift that Dylan had given her. As it was the most relia
ble pregnancy test, she was going to take it right now, so that one way or another, she wouldn’t have the uncertainty of not knowing.
Back in the bathroom, she held the stick carefully and this time she followed the instructions to the letter, waiting the full two minutes before looking down.
To her utter relief, the test was a clear negative.
Cassie breathed out a sigh that seemed to take all of her tension away with it. This test wouldn’t be wrong, because it was the most accurate one.
Finally things were starting to move in her favor.
*
Cassie woke the following morning feeling confident about her decision. She would not believe another word Ryan said to her. All she was doing was annihilating her own self-esteem. No matter what he said or did, she was going to walk out as soon as they got back.
Cassie played a board game with the children before lunch, and when the rain cleared in the afternoon, they went for a walk down the path to the beach. Dylan seemed to have warmed to her again, and she hoped that he’d understood that she’d lost her temper, and had accepted her apology.
As the hours went by and there was still no sign of Ryan and Trish, she started to wonder when exactly they were planning to arrive. Ryan had said “late,” but what did that mean? She’d assumed it meant late afternoon, but five o’clock came and went with no word from him. Exactly how long were they planning to extend this loving little jaunt?
Cassie fumed and fretted, repacking her bags as the evening drew in. She wanted to get her departure over and done with. No kind words, no kisses, no diamond necklaces could change her mind this time. She’d seen Ryan for what he was—a pathological liar who’d strung her along because it suited his plans.
It was only when she was finishing off her packing that she remembered the other test—the one she’d bought—was still in the Land Rover’s cubbyhole. Tempting as it was to leave it there and hope that it might prove an interesting conversation point for Ryan and Trish at some future date, Cassie decided it would be better to remove it.
She headed out to the garage and opened the cubbyhole in the central console. The test had fallen right to the bottom, and when she rummaged in the cubbyhole’s dark interior, the first thing she pulled out was a pair of wire cutters.
She placed them on the seat and delved into the cubbyhole again.
This time she pulled out a short knife.
Now she could feel the plastic bag containing the test—but there was something else there, as well. What was it?
Cassie pulled out the test bag and then scrabbled with her fingers, picking up the small, sharp items she could feel there.
She took them out and stared at them, dumbfounded.
They were fragments of wire.
The last time she’d seen wire of this color and size had been when she’d been staring down into her car’s open hood.
Cassie felt dizzy with horrified realization.
No wonder it had been so easy for her to agree to stay on, and to accept Ryan’s lies about Trish. Being stranded, and dependent on him to fix her car, had been the main reason for that.
He’d trapped her here, forcing her to rely on his helpfulness by cutting the wires in the first place. With his wife due to fly back, he’d needed a contingency plan. He must have gone out after her and driven behind her to the hardware store.
She’d left her car unlocked, but if she hadn’t, she was sure he would have done something different—slashed two of the tires, perhaps.
One way or another, he’d devised a foolproof plan to force her into staying.
She’d been manipulated by him without even realizing it.
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE
As the reality of what Ryan had done sunk in, Cassie was filled with a fury so huge that she couldn’t think straight.
He had sabotaged her car to make sure she couldn’t leave. He’d been using her this entire time. Seeing she was vulnerable, he’d trapped her in a spider’s web of lies and deceit, so that he could get everything he wanted from her.
With shaking hands, Cassie put the incriminating objects back in the cubbyhole and hid the unused pregnancy test in her suitcase.
She made supper for the children and even managed to eat a few bites herself. She felt far too emotionally drained for cheery conversation, but in any case, the mood at the table seemed somber. Madison didn’t speak a word and Dylan paged through a cycling magazine while he ate.
Staring at the opposite wall, Cassie put the finishing touches to her exit strategy.
Both the children possessed damaging information about what had happened and they could reveal it at any time. Madison would do so innocently, but if Dylan said anything, it would be deliberate.
Let them drop the bombshells when she was safely out of here. It might even occur while they were enjoying a lively discussion about current events over the dinner table, and Ryan could lie to his heart’s content as he tried to wriggle out of it.
As the evening drew on, Cassie started to wonder if they had booked at the wine farm for another night and hadn’t bothered to tell her.
She even wondered briefly if they’d had an accident on the way home.
After their hour of television she put the children to bed and packed the last of her belongings away. It gave her a bitter satisfaction to see her shelves totally clear.
“Screw you, Ryan,” she whispered as she zipped up her suitcase.
As the minutes ticked by, Cassie realized in frustration that she was going to be stuck here for the night, because it would be too late to book in at one of the nearby guesthouses. Her plan had been to leave immediately, but that wouldn’t be possible now.
It was close to ten p.m. when she heard the front door burst open.
With a babble of laughter, Trish and Ryan entered the house.
“You are so, so, so bad,” she heard Trish giggle. “Was it really necessary to stop at our pub? A bottle of champagne, yes, well and good, but the brandies? Whose idea was that?”
She giggled loudly and hiccupped. She sounded very drunk.
“The champagne was my idea, the cognac was yours. Come on, my lovely, time to get you into bed now.”
Ryan didn’t sound entirely sober himself.
Cassie opened her door and stepped out into the corridor.
There they were. Ryan had their bags in one hand, and was holding Trish’s hand in his other. She was leaning on him and laughing.
“Hello there, Cassie. You still up? Everything good here? Kiddies all in bed?” Ryan said.
“Everything’s fine.”
She stared at Ryan as they passed, wondering if he had any idea how much she hated him.
He’d destroyed her emotionally, but would walk away from this debacle squeaky clean. He’d carry on with his privileged life, and his perfect family, his beautiful house and expensive cars, doing what he wanted, screwing who he wanted. Smoothing his way with lies, with no heed for the devastation he caused.
In that moment, Cassie changed her mind. She wasn’t going to walk out. Before she left in the morning, she would have her say to both of them. She wordlessly reentered her room.
A few minutes later, a tap on her door made her jump.
“Hello, beautiful,” Ryan whispered.
Cassie stared at him, incredulous.
How could he possibly be continuing this farce? Was he deluded?
Clearly he was—grinning at her from the doorway like nothing was wrong at all.
“Trish is asleep. Are you coming out for a nightcap?” he asked.
“No,” she hissed, and turned her back on him.
Then she felt his hand on her shoulders, massaging her in a way that previously would have sent a flood of desire and happiness through her. Now his touch revolted her and she flinched away.
“Just one drink. Come on. I’ve missed you. I need to talk to you.”
“All right,” she said.
If he wanted talk, he would have it. She wouldn’t be shy about w
hat she was planning to say.
She grabbed her jacket—the gloves were packed—and followed him down the corridor.
When they were out of earshot of the bedrooms, he began to talk in a normal voice, as if nothing was wrong.
“There’s a storm brewing. You can’t see it from this side; it’s approaching from the other way. The lightning was incredible coming back. We might only have time for one quick drink outside, but it’ll be worth it for the spectacle—and the rain will be blowing over the balcony.”
Cassie followed in silence as he collected a bottle and glasses from the kitchen.
Outside, the wind was starting to gust, but as he’d said, due to the storm’s direction, the balcony was sheltered. The waves were crashing onto shore and in the faint ambient light she could just see the white crests of the breakers.
This would be the last time she’d sit out here. Thinking about all the other times, what he’d said to her and what she’d believed, filled her with rage all over again.
“My gorgeous, I’ve missed you so. Has everything been well here?”
Ryan moved his chair closer to hers and handed her a glass.
Cassie downed half of it in one gulp.
“Firstly, I’m not your gorgeous.”
He stared at her, eyebrows raised, genuine puzzlement in his eyes.
“What do you mean? Is something wrong?”
How had she ever believed him? Looking at him now, Cassie couldn’t comprehend how badly she’d allowed herself to be misled.
“Ryan, I’ve had enough of your games. It’s perfectly clear you’re not trying to get a divorce.”
He sighed.
“Cassie, don’t be like this. Please. This is difficult enough for me as it is. Do you know—”
“Oh, spare me!”
She saw his face change as he picked up the blunt sarcasm in her tone, but she continued in full tirade.
“What are you going to say? ‘It’s so hard for me having to nurse Trish through this divorce. Oh, Cassie, please understand.’
“Well, Ryan, I do understand. The only difficult thing for you right now is coordinating your stories, because there is no divorce. There isn’t, there never was, it’s all just a complete bullshit story. You’re a liar, Ryan. A compulsive, dangerous liar and even your children know it. You’ve been stringing me along in so many ways and I believed you because I’d never met anyone like you before, and it took me a while to work out that people could actually be as blatantly two-faced as you.”
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