'Jack … Jack' I whisper, beckoning him over, encouraging him to enter the bedroom. He staggers towards the door, bouncing off the metal handle and grimacing in pain as he pushes past me. ‘Here, lie down next to Lauren, she asked me to get you’.
I gesture towards the bed where Lauren is lying unconscious and blissfully unaware.
My heart skips a beat as he flashes that beautiful dazzling pearly white smile, even with his eyes lazy from the alcohol. He pulls his t-shirt off revealing his deliciously tanned torso. He struggles with his belt and the buttons of his jeans, only managing to unclasp the first one. I give him a helping hand and undo the other two and then yank his jeans down to his knees. He flops on to the bed beside his sleeping beauty, nuzzling his head against her neck and wrapping an arm around her waist.
I stand there and watch as his eyes begin to close and his breathing becomes heavy as he drifts into sleep of his own. So, tonight didn't quite work out like I had hoped, but let’s face it who’s really going to believe that it didn’t. Nobody will listen to what two irresponsible drunks have to say. I quickly dart into the living room and grab my bag that I dropped to the floor on the way in. I pull my phone out and re-enter the bedroom. I look at the scene in front of me through the square screen; their two bodies intertwined, half naked and exhausted from a wild night of passion. My lips curl upwards forming a wickedly satisfied smile. I take two pictures and then leave the room.
Chapter 10
Three Weeks Later
The gym is hot and sticky today; the air con is broken. The sound of wild feet pounding the treadmills accompanies the clatter of heavy weights as they slam to the floor. The machine says that I have been running for twenty-three minutes and I am exhausted. I don’t particularly like doing cardio but running is a vice for me. It allows me to break free from my mind, even if only for a little while.
My phone starts to rattle inside the cup holder of my machine. Lauren's name stares at me, begging for acceptance. This is the fourth time she has tried phoning me today and it’s only 10am on a Sunday morning. Over the past few weeks my phone has been blowing up with texts and several long-winded phone calls; going over and over the same details of what happened whilst we were in Tenerife.
The girl is a hot mess. She’s paranoid that Jacob will find out about her little fling and even though I've told her about a million times, she still insists on questioning the details of that night. It doesn't matter how many times she asks me; my version of the truth will remain the same and yet she still clings on to something out of her reach. She desperately seeks any fresh words of reassurance that I’m willing to give her but she's wasting her time.
When my phone shows no sign of piping down, I decide that I’ve probably tortured her enough for today by ignoring her calls and I surrender to this one.
‘Hey Lauren, what’s up?’
I press the big red emergency stop button on my machine and hop to the side of the runner, wiping my damp forehead with my arm. Her voice is weary, and it makes me smile.
‘I’m going out of my mind here babe. I don’t think I can handle this anymore. Do you think I should just come clean?’
She’s crumbling perfectly, little by little as each day goes on. Her guilt dragging her into a thick dark cloud of insanity. I could tell her to confess to Jacob; convince her that the best option for her now is to come clean about that night. I could tell her that she shouldn’t leave a single detail out, as she would only get caught in another lie. Before I have a chance to respond, she interrupts my train of thought.
‘None of the girls are speaking to me. They are still pissed at me for blowing them off on our holiday, and obviously I can’t tell them what happened. I just feel so alone.’
I take a slug of water from my plastic bottle as I head for the gyms exit. As I step outside, the cold wind stings my flush face. I change my mind about telling her to confess. I've found a new seed to plant, and it doesn’t take long for a flower to blossom.
‘I’m sorry about your friends Lauren, that’s really shite from them. If I lived closer, you know I would be there for you.’
I pause, allowing the intention behind my words to develop.
‘Babe, I know how busy you are with work, and it’s mega short notice - I get it, but do you fancy coming down here for a few days?’
Hah, Bingo! I don't say a word, forcing her to do nothing but wait patiently for my answer. I hear each shallow breath she takes, and it thrills me. I use these few precious moments to revel in the idea of her needing me so badly. Nobody ever really needs me.
Fed up waiting, desperate for an answer, her voice sounds again in my ear. ‘Please,’ she begs. ‘I could really do with a good friend right now.’
She is putty in my hand. Who would have thought that the poor girl she met that afternoon in the Canary Islands would assume the role of the comforter now? That weak, pathetic soul who was so desperate for help, for friendship. Me, that's who. No, actually, not thought – knew. I sigh ever so dramatically and clear my throat.
‘I shouldn’t really take any more time off work. I’ll probably get into a shit load of trouble for cancelling clients at such short notice.’
She doesn’t reply. The line is silent.
‘Awk, listen, it’s fine. I’ll sort something out; see if I can get a cheap flight down this week. How does that sound?’
She squeals, a piercing shriek assaulting my ears.
‘Thanks so much! Thank you! Thank you! Babe, you are a lifesaver. I really don’t know what I would do without you.’
I cover my hand with my mouth, hoping I'm successfully masking the gentle laughter that has started to escape my throat. I cough hard, regaining composure before I continue our conversation.
‘Hey, what are friends for, right?’
I end the call before she can say anything else. I can’t believe this is working out so well. A hell of a way to find out where he lives but a fool proof one nonetheless.
I don’t have any holidays left to take, I used them all up on my last-minute getaway to Tenerife. I expected her to invite me to visit at some point, but I hadn’t planned on it being so soon. I thought she might have kept in touch throughout the rest of the summer and even over the Christmas period. When the New Year arrived, so would a clean slate of annual leave and I would have been able to take as much time off as I wanted. The idea of waiting didn't bother me. I've waited this long already, haven't I?
It only takes me a couple of minutes after ending our call to make an executive decision that will nip this trivial issue right in the bud. I don’t need to ask anyone if I can take additional time off, and it doesn’t matter one bit if the last-minute cancellations I’m about to make will annoy my clients. None of it matters any more - because why would it when I won’t be coming back.
Later that day I phone Lauren back to let her know that I will be able to come down to visit after all. As soon as tomorrow if she wanted me to. She is ecstatic, and eager to help in any way she can. She doesn't ask how I managed to get time off at such short notice and I'm extremely grateful for her ignorance. I tell her that I can only stay until Thursday and would need to fly home that night but it seems to be more than good enough for her. She asks for my email address for some weird reason, but I give her it anyway and we say our goodbyes. About half an hour later she pings me over details of a flight that she has already booked and paid for.
The flight leaves from Edinburgh airport early tomorrow morning and arrives at Southend-on-Sea, returning on the latest flight on Thursday night. I had to google the area because I expected to be flying into Gatwick or Stansted airport. Jacob had never mentioned Southend to me before.
During our phone call Lauren had insisted that I stay in her guest room and I took my time to carefully weigh up my options. If I accepted her generous offer Jacob would recognise me the minute I am introduced as her friend from holiday. I would look bat shit crazy; turning up at his house and pretending to be someone I wasn’t. Even armed
with the photos of Lauren's betrayal, he would see me as nothing more than a liar and in turn might not believe me when I tell him about her fling. That’s a whole lot of drama I want to avoid, so I must be smart about this and bide my time appropriately. I'm so close now to getting what I want, I have to tread carefully and so I book my own accommodation, settling on a quirky boutique hotel with a beautiful sea front view, not too far from the airport. I treat myself to a deluxe suite with all the trimmings for the duration of 14 nights instead of three as Lauren expects. I reckon by day three of my visit Jacob will be well informed of his wife’s little mishap, and I will still need somewhere to stay as I watch the drama unfold.
He will undoubtedly demand that she leaves their home, paving the way for me to make my grand entrance. I imagine he will text or call me almost immediately, desperate to tell me all about it. I will act surprised of course, and it will be nothing but pure coincidence that I am in the area for work at the exact same time he needs a shoulder to cry on. I will be that shoulder for him, but not for too long. He will quickly realise that his marriage to Lauren was a mistake, a sham, and it should always have been me. When he inevitably asks me to stay – I will.
Now that the flights and my hotel are sorted, I only have a couple of things left to do. I won’t be rude, I’ll be as professional as I can about this and instead of ghosting the store, I type out a short but informative email to my boss. I thank her for the experience but explain that I will not be returning to work at the store tomorrow - or ever. I don’t bother with much of an explanation; I don’t feel the need to. After I press send, I add the recipient address to my block list. Knowing her, she will likely try to send me back a long winded, unpleasant and completely irrelevant reply, but that will be a waste of her time, not mine.
Time is moving at the speed of light and I still need to pack and sort out a few loose ends, but there’s one more person I need to speak to first.
Jacob
Things have been a bit strange since Lauren got back from her trip. She seems distant, as if her mind is somewhere else and every time that I go to touch her, she recoils abruptly as if the contact scalds her. I’ve even caught her staring blankly at me a few times when I've been watching telly or typing a text. I don’t know if I have done something to piss her off, but I swear she looks like she is ready to let rip at me for something. But she never does.
On top of that, she’s been working a lot of late nights at the salon, and when she eventually does come home, she heads straight for bed, barely saying a word.
I’ve also noticed that none of her friends have been round to visit. Not even her best friend Georgia which is definitely a sign that something is wrong here. I've started to really panic thinking about what it could be. Did something happen when they were away? Have they fallen out? The idea seems impossible, they are very close, but then again, the two of them are very fiery. Spending all that time together without a rest period is bound to initiate a few squabbles.
I might just be overthinking all of this, but there’s just something niggling away at me; telling me that something isn’t right.
Another change to the norm is the amount of time Lauren’s been spending on her phone. It’s like the stupid thing’s fucking glued to her hand. She refuses to put it down for even a minute when I’m around. When I ask who she’s speaking to, she tells me that it’s nobody, just Zara – the new friend she made in Tenerife. I don’t know much about her except that Lauren found her crying by the pool one day. Apparently, she had just broken up with her boyfriend and Lauren took her under her wing. I’ve always admired her compassion for others, one of the many reasons I fell for her in the first place. She always put me first, before her friends and even before herself. My feelings were all that mattered to her. That’s why I’m finding it so bloody difficult to understand why I’m being shunned right now.
When I did ask more about her, she told me that the two of them were extremely similar in a multitude of ways. They dressed similar, they enjoyed the same food and liked to dance to the same music. She joked that they probably have the same taste in men too. I asked what she looked like as although she claims they spent a lot of time together, no pictures of this mysterious stranger have been uploaded to her Facebook account. A weird one I thought, considering how well they seem to have bonded.
She described her as being petite, around 5ft (the same height as her) and having long dark hair – also the same colour as hers. She seemed to take pleasure in telling me all about her, as if she had a crush or something. She couldn’t believe that a girl so naturally beautiful and warm could be treated so poorly by any man. I didn’t know what to say to that to be honest with you. I’m not in any position to judge how any man treats a female. I’ve never proclaimed to be a saint myself.
There isn’t any harm in her having a new friend, especially if they get on as well as she says they do. I just find it strange that it seems to be the only thing she’s bothered about right now. I must admit, from what she’s told me about her they do sound quite alike. I still don’t have a picture or anything to go by but personality-wise, she sounds exactly my type.
Standing barefoot in only a pair of white boxers, I pour myself a cold glass of water from the kitchen tap and check the time. It’s just gone ten o’clock and I have five-a-side football at eleven on Sundays. Better get my arse in gear. I take a drink of my water and listen to the muffled sound of chatter coming from upstairs. Unless Lauren has taken up talking to herself now too, I’m guessing that she’s on the phone to someone. That, or someone’s found their way into my house without me knowing. I stay still, trying not to make any noise so I can listen in to what she’s saying but it’s no use, her voice is far too faint and so I give up.
While she’s occupied, I may as well use my free minutes to text Karly. She looked hot as hell in her gym clothes this morning; every curve of her body hugged perfectly in black sportswear. I deleted her picture quickly after, careful as always not to leave any traces of her behind. My phone slips from my hand, narrowly missing the marbled floor as I snatch it up just in time. It was the sound of Lauren plunging down the stairs and into the kitchen like an angry elephant that startled me.
‘Morning Babe, can I get you anything?’ I ask with a smile.
She grins at me menacingly, like a wild beast ready to attack. What the fuck have I done now?
‘No, thank you, I’m fine’ she retorts as she grabs a cereal bar from the cupboard and pops it in the handbag that dangles over her shoulder.
‘Just in case I forget,’ she starts. ‘Zara called, she’s going to be working in the city this week, so I’ll probably be out and about quite a bit.’
She rests her hand on our glass dining table and glares at me, waiting for a response; searching my face for something I’m not quite sure of.
‘Err, OK’ is all I manage to say.
She flees the kitchen before I even realise that the conversation is over. What the hell was that about? She seemed angry but for what reason? Surely, she is happy that she will be seeing her new friend as she's the only one she gives a shit about recently. I shake my head and rub my eyes with the heel of my hands. I don’t have time to figure this out right now. I gulp the last of my water and place the glass in the sink before heading upstairs. I should be worried about Lauren and her newly discovered mood swings, but I have another thought at the front of my mind instead. If Zara is going to be in town, will I get to meet her?
Chapter 11
Karly
The air is thick with tension as Hannah and I sit across the table from one another. I chose her favourite coffee shop as our meet up spot and even managed to bag her favourite corner table with a private view of the street outside. Since I told her about my move, approximately eleven minutes ago, she’s barely said a word to me and I’m positively fizzing at her attitude, not to mention her blatant lack of support.
I bet Lauren would have been supportive if she was in Hannah's position. Why can't she be m
ore like her? Obviously, I couldn’t tell her the truth, not after the way she reacted to me going to Tenerife. Instead, I told her that I had applied for a highly sought-after job a few months back that involved working closely with some footballer’s wife on a permanent basis. The “job” was of course in London, but it had completely slipped my mind because I didn’t believe in a million years that I would be fortunate enough to be offered such a prestigious opportunity. I mean, hundreds of people must have applied, why would I tell her about something I never expected to happen.
Anyway, I expressed that I know it seemed a bit sudden, but I had no other option as there was only one condition between me and my dream job and that was that I had to start immediately.
She stares moodily down at her untouched coffee that she may as well have ordered as an iced version because I guarantee it will be frozen by now. She refuses to meet my eyes as I speak at her rather than to her, and I can’t quite believe that she’s acting like such a little brat. I get that this isn't entirely true but if I had been offered a position like this, it would have been a terrific opportunity for me. Not many people get the chance to work with a celebrity and it wasn’t that unbelievable - I am fucking good at what I do. Isn't your best friend supposed to support you in everything you do? They are supposed to celebrate your success with you and egg you on to be the absolute best version of yourself.
The silence between us now is so deafening that for a minute I genuinely wonder if there could be something wrong with her hearing. She hasn’t said one word. Not even the faintest hint of a measly smile or the twitching of a petted lip. My ever so short temper begins to flare like a fireball ready to launch; my chest beginning to tighten. I try to wrack my brain. What exactly is her problem here? Is she upset that I’m moving away? Or, is she just simply riddled with jealousy? I actually think it might be the latter. She never had the same ambition to go get what she wanted as I did but still always expected the benefits. It’s the same in all aspects of her life: work, love – in anything really. I refuse to say another word here until she chooses to break the uncomfortable silence. I'm fearful for the venom that could explode from my mouth.
The Lies She Told: A wickedly twisted psychological thriller that you cannot put down! Page 7
