One of Us Is Lying: A totally gripping psychological thriller with a brilliant twist

by Shalini Boland

  Five

  Thursday

  TIA

  ‘You okay, Tia? I heard you talking in your sleep last night.’ Ed pulls a T-shirt over his head, while I sit up and try to focus properly.

  ‘Mmm, yeah.’ I’m so wrung-out I can’t even form a coherent sentence. Flashes of dreams come to me – Rosie crying in the dark, Mr Jeffries shouting at me… and a dead man floating on the lake. I shudder and try to shake away the disturbing images. Last night was one of the worst night’s sleep I’ve had for years.

  ‘Tee?’

  ‘Still half asleep.’ I stretch noisily and smile up at my husband as he leans down for a kiss, a hank of blonde hair falling across one eye. ‘I had such weird dreams. And it was so hot and sticky. I need a shower.’

  ‘Sorry you had a crap night. Looks like it’s going to be another scorcher today. Pity me at work later. I’m hoping everyone orders salads. The thought of firing up the ovens…’ Ed’s a chef at the Scott Arms, a popular local four-star hotel. He works long hours, but he loves what he does. And when he’s home, he’s the best, most attentive husband and father I could wish for.

  Our bedroom door opens and Rosie shuffles in, wearing a blue-and-white stripy nightdress and holding Shorty, her cuddly giraffe.

  ‘Morning Rosie Posie.’ Ed picks her up and blows a raspberry on her cheek, but instead of giggling, she frowns and pushes him away. ‘What’s up, pickle?’

  She puts a hand on her stomach. ‘I’ve got a sore tummy.’

  He puts her back down. ‘Maybe you’re just hungry. Want some cereal? Or I could make blueberry pancakes if you like?’

  Rosie shakes her head as Leo charges into the room wearing just his pants and dives onto the bed, yelling and making explosion noises.

  ‘Shh, Leo, your sister’s not feeling well.’

  ‘Call the ambulance, nee naw, nee naw!’

  Ed catches my eye, picks up our noisy son and pretends to fly him out of the room like an aeroplane. ‘Come on, terror, let’s leave your mum and sister in peace for a few minutes.’

  As Leo’s boisterous cries grow fainter, I pat the edge of the bed for Rosie to come and sit next to me. Her curls frame her sad little face as she gently kicks the bedframe with the back of her bare feet and worries Shorty’s ear.

  ‘Shall we go and have some of those pancakes?’ I ask.

  Rosie shakes her head, wearing the same closed-down expression as yesterday.

  My chest tightens. ‘What’s wrong, baby?’

  ‘Bad tummy.’

  ‘Do you think maybe it’s a nervous tummy?’

  She shakes her head. ‘I better stay in bed today.’

  ‘Shall I tell you what I think?’ I take her hand and give it a squeeze. ‘I think your tummy is feeling a bit wobbly after yesterday. Those silly boys made up stories and it made you feel a bit strange. Is that what’s happened?’

  Rosie scowls.

  ‘And the best thing for a nervous tummy is to take a deep breath and be brave. I’ll come into school with you and talk to your teacher, okay?’

  ‘I want to stay here with you and Daddy. It’s not a nervous tummy, it’s a bad tummy.’

  My heart breaks a little. There’s nothing I’d like more than for us all to stay home today, but that won’t do Rosie any favours. She has to face those little troublemakers and let them see she’s not intimidated. Easier said than done when you’re a five-year-old child.

  And now she’s started crying. I need to think of a distraction.

  ‘Hey, tell you what, why don’t we invite Maisie and Sasha for tea after school today?’

  I see her consider my suggestion, her scowl melting a little.

  ‘They could help us make the sailboat cakes.’

  ‘Can we go to the park too?’

  ‘Yes. But we better get dressed quickly, or we’ll be late, and I won’t get the chance to ask their mummies if they can come.’

  ‘Okay.’ She hops off the bed and runs out of the bedroom.

  I take a breath. Thank goodness for that. Now I just have to give myself a talking to and stop stressing about what those boys said. It’s probably nothing sinister; just kids messing about.

  The next hour goes by smoothly – well, as smoothly as it can when you’re trying to wrangle two young children into their clothes and get them to eat a sensible breakfast. We finally get to school without a hitch and Rosie goes into her class okay, brimming with excitement about asking her friends to come over after school. I drop Leo around the corner at his preschool and now I’m back at Rosie’s school to meet with Mrs Lovatt, the deputy head, to discuss what Rosie told me yesterday. I would have preferred to talk to Mr Jeffries, but he’s not free to see me until after school, so Mrs Lovatt will have to do.

  ‘Mrs Perry?’ A woman in her forties, who I’m guessing is Mrs Lovatt, has popped her head out of her office door.

  I nod and get to my feet.

  ‘Would you like to come in?’

  I follow her into her sparsely furnished office with a desk and three chairs. She’s new to the area and only started working at Ashridge Academy last term. Slim, with short, fair hair that’s flecked with grey, she looks to be a decade or so older than me – maybe forty-ish. We both sit and I waste no time explaining what happened yesterday. About how my daughter was extremely upset by some of the older boys making up nasty lies.

  ‘What did these boys say?’ She doesn’t seem overly concerned or apologetic and this irritates me. I mean, I know it’s not her fault and maybe it seems trivial to her, but she didn’t see how upset Rosie was yesterday. And how much the lies shocked me.

  ‘They told her…’ I pause. ‘They told her that I’d killed someone.’

  Her eyes widen and she looks directly at me. I can see this isn’t quite what she was expecting. ‘And have you?’

  I give an outraged laugh. ‘Not to my knowledge. No.’

  ‘Look, obviously that’s not a nice thing for them to say, but quite honestly it sounds like it’s simply boys being boys, playing detective, that kind of thing, you know how they can be.’

  I take a deep breath and tell myself to keep calm. I really don’t want to lose my temper with this woman, but it’s annoying me how much she’s making light of the situation. I try to keep my voice level. ‘They weren’t “playing detective”, they were picking on my daughter and telling her that her mum is a murderer. Now, that might sound like harmless fun to you, but to me it’s quite a serious issue and I don’t want it happening again.’

  She purses her lips and clears her throat. ‘Of course not. Do you know the names of these boys?’

  ‘No. Rosie didn’t say. I think they were older though. In the year above.’

  ‘Maybe we should call Rosie in and ask her.’

  ‘What, now?’

  ‘Yes. Hear what she has to say about it.’

  ‘To be honest, I’d rather not dredge it all up with her again. It took a lot to calm her down this morning. She didn’t even want to come in to school, and that’s never happened before.’ I realise I’m drumming my fingers on the desk quite loudly. I stop and put my hands in my lap.

  ‘The thing is,’ Mrs Lovatt continues, ‘without knowing actual names, it’s going to be quite tricky to do anything. I can’t reprimand anyone if I don’t know who did it.’

  I take a breath and try not to snap. ‘Maybe you could say something in assembly to everyone about not making things up and spreading lies. And about not picking on others.’

  ‘We already do have quite a few Be Nice to Others assemblies. It’s a strong part of the school’s ethos.’ She glances over at the clock on the wall and I realise she wants me gone.

  ‘Well, it doesn’t seem to be working at the moment. Perhaps you need to word it more strongly.’

  ‘Hmm, well, we’ll certainly see what we can do.’

  What the hell does that mean?

  She gives me a nod and gets to her feet. This must be her tactic for getting rid of unwanted visitors. But I’m not t
aking the hint. I stay seated and fold my arms across my chest. ‘So you’ll say something to the older boys?’

  ‘We will.’

  ‘And can you tell Mr Jeffries what’s happened? And keep an eye on Rosie today at lunchtime and playtime? Make sure those boys aren’t hassling her?’

  ‘I’m sure Mr Jeffries has everything in hand.’

  ‘But you’ll tell him.’

  ‘I will. Please don’t worry, Mrs Perry. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m afraid I have another meeting to get to.’

  I stand up, not feeling at all comforted by our chat. Maybe I’m an overprotective parent, but I don’t want a repeat of yesterday with Rosie coming home upset. I also don’t want to be the subject of nasty rumours. ‘Okay, thanks for your time.’ I grit my teeth, realising I need to stay on her good side. Rosie’s going to be at Ashridge Academy for years; I can’t afford to annoy the teaching staff. But leaving Mrs Lovatt’s office and walking back out into the sunshine, I can’t help feeling that I’ve made things worse.

  Six

  KELLY

  ‘This is so kind of you. I can’t believe you’re doing this for me.’ Sophie takes the other end of the duvet and holds it out as I ease on a fresh cover. The attic bedroom is warm and stuffy, but I’ve thrown open the Velux windows and brought up a portable fan. There’s a slight breeze coming off the lake which should make it a little more bearable up here.

  ‘Thinking about it, you’ll probably only need the sheet. It’s far too warm for a quilt. But at least you’ve got one in case it cools down overnight.’ I’ve offered to let Sophie stay in our attic room for a day or two. She was so grateful. I’m sure I’ve made the right decision. Once I’ve settled her into the room and she knows she has nothing to fear from me, then I’ll broach the subject of contacting the women’s shelter. She’ll be better off going somewhere where they’re equipped to deal with people in her situation – not that I actually know what her situation is. But at least they’ll know the correct procedures and safety measures, whereas I’m just offering a temporary solution. I’ll make her see that the right move is to seek proper help.

  We didn’t talk that much over the cake baking earlier, but when I mentioned that I was a widow, her eyes filled with tears. She said that she was grieving too. That her dad had died a while ago and that he was the only person in the world who had ever understood her. I gave her a hug, and, for a brief moment, it felt like we had a real connection.

  ‘This room’s really nice.’ Sophie picks up one of my patchwork cushions from the wicker rocking chair and hugs it to her body. ‘Thanks for letting me stay. You’re so lucky living here.’

  She’s right. Despite everything I’ve been through, I know how fortunate I am. ‘That’s okay. Thanks for your help with the cakes. You’ll have to help us eat some later.’

  ‘Won’t your kids think it’s weird that I’m staying here?’

  ‘Don’t worry. They’ll be fine.’ Ryan and Sonny are used to me taking in waifs and strays. I’m always the one who offers to look after other people’s kids or has people crashing in the spare room when they’re stuck for a place to stay. I guess some people might say I’m a soft touch. But I honestly don’t mind. I love getting to know new people. I would have done way more over the years, but Michael was quite a private person. He never enjoyed it when people stayed over. In fact, the only time we ever fell out was when I wanted to have a couple of foreign exchange students to stay one summer. I thought it would be good for the kids to learn about other cultures, but Michael put his foot down. Said he didn’t want to come home from work each night to a houseful of strangers.

  Sophie and I do up the buttons on the duvet. She starts at one end and I start at the other, meeting in the middle. I think about what the boys will say about Sophie staying. Sonny will be fine. He’s a proper little socialite – a people person like me. It’s Ryan I’m nervous about. The truth is I’m more than slightly worried how he’s going to react. He’s been pretty moody since Michael died – which is to be expected – but I thought he would have started to heal a little by now. I don’t like to admit it, but, if anything, he’s getting worse. Maybe Sophie’s appearance will make him act a little nicer, jolt him out of his glumness and put him on his best behaviour. I can only hope.

  My phone starts trilling. I draw it out of the pocket in my dress and see that it’s school calling. ‘Sorry, I’m going to have to take this.’

  ‘Yeah, of course.’ Sophie goes back to looking nervous again.

  I walk out of the room and stand on the attic landing. ‘Hello?’

  ‘Mrs Taylor?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘It’s Tina Lovatt here, deputy head at Ashridge Academy.’

  My breath catches. This can’t be good. ‘Everything okay?’

  ‘Can you come into school?’

  ‘Er, what, now?’

  ‘Yes please.’

  ‘Are Ryan and Sonny okay?’

  ‘They’re fine. But Ryan has been involved in an incident.’

  ‘An incident? What do you mean? What kind of—’

  ‘I think it’s best if you just come in.’

  ‘Um, yeah, okay. Give me ten minutes.’

  My heart has started beating out of control. What on earth could have happened? She said he was fine, so he’s obviously not hurt. Could he have been in a fight? Maybe he’s upset. And what am I going to do about Sophie? Can I really trust her enough to leave her on her own in the house? We don’t keep anything valuable here, like jewellery or money. There are a couple of laptops, but that’s about it. I know I offered to let her stay over, but I thought I’d be at home the whole time as I’m not due at work until tomorrow. I don’t want to ask her to leave. Not after I’ve just said she can stay. But I can’t let Sophie’s situation sidetrack me from my family; I need to focus on what’s going on with Ryan.

  I slip my phone back into my pocket and return to the bedroom, where Sophie’s looking at me with wide eyes. ‘Everything all right?’

  ‘Yeah… no… not really. Something’s going on with my eldest and I have to go into school for a quick meeting.’

  ‘Oh. Right.’ Her face closes down and I’m sure she’s waiting for me to throw her out.

  ‘But, look, you’re welcome to stay here while I’m out. I shouldn’t be too long.’

  Her face relaxes. ‘Are you sure that’s okay?’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  ‘Wow, thanks. I’ll just stay up here. I won’t go into the rest of the house.’

  ‘That’s fine. You can go downstairs and watch TV or help yourself to any food if you’re hungry.’

  ‘You’re so nice. But it’s probably safer if I stay up here out of view. Just in case…’ She tails off. I’m sure she was about to open up to me, but, much as I’d like to, I can’t stay and talk to her right now.

  ‘Okay, well, make yourself comfy up here. The loo’s downstairs and, like I said, there’s food in the kitchen. I’ll lock the front door behind me, but you can always go out the back way if you decide you want to leave. Just… leave me a note if you do, so I know you’re okay.’

  She nods. I want to give her a hug, she still looks so nervous, but I refrain, giving her a warm smile instead.

  ‘Um…’ she starts to say something but tails off.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Could you… I mean, would you mind not telling anyone I’m here?’

  ‘That could be a bit difficult with the kids. Especially my youngest – he’s not known for keeping quiet about anything.’

  ‘I understand. It’s just, if anyone found out about me being here, it could get… tricky for me.’

  ‘Of course. Look, let’s talk about it later. Maybe I could say you’re a friend come to visit?’

  She nods, her face relaxing a little.

  ‘Okay, I better go.’

  Downstairs, I grab my bag and lock the front door behind me. School is only a few minutes’ walk away, but I don’t want to waste a second, so I jump
into my sky-blue VW Beetle and drive there instead, feeling more than a little shaky at the wheel. Luckily, the road is empty at this hour. Up ahead, I spot my friend Tia walking along, head bowed, in a world of her own. She turns down a side road in the direction of her house and I think about honking my horn to get her attention. But I don’t have time to stop and chat, so I keep going until I get to school, pulling up in one of the visitor parking spots less than a minute later.

  Inside the building, the receptionist is in the front office talking to Mrs Lovatt. They both look up when I walk in and Mrs Lovatt comes out and invites me into her office. We sit opposite one another and I wait for her to explain, my mind flitting between Sophie back at home and Ryan.

  ‘I’m afraid Ryan has been disruptive in class. He was also extremely rude to his teacher Miss Santani this morning.’

  I blow air out of my mouth and shake my head, trying not to let myself become stressed. Ryan misses his dad and he’s still holding on to so much anger. I wonder if I should be doing something more to help him, if I should have tried to get him to open up more about his feelings. I realise Mrs Lovatt is waiting for me to respond.

  ‘What happened?’ I ask, trying not to sound too panicked.

  ‘He was whispering to another child when he should have been listening to his teacher. Then, when Miss Santani reprimanded him, he muttered something rude under his breath. She asked him to repeat what he’d said, but he refused, so she told him to go and sit outside the classroom. He got very worked up, picked up his chair and threw it to the ground in anger before storming out. Luckily no one was hurt.’

  My heart plummets. Obviously it’s unacceptable behaviour, but I ache for my troubled boy. ‘Where is he now?’

  ‘He’s sitting in a spare classroom with Mr Nichols, the PE teacher.’