The Honeymoon: An absolutely gripping psychological thriller

by Rona Halsall

  ‘I can’t think like that. Gran is my responsibility. Yes, maybe my brother and sister could be more involved, but we’ve got a routine, and everything works fine.’

  ‘So, your gran’s health is going to dictate how we live our lives? What about me? Your husband. Where do my needs come into your thinking?’

  ‘No I didn’t mean’ She stepped away from him, a hand to her forehead as she tried to think. They were getting nowhere. He kept turning the conversation around and she was exhausted. ‘You’re impossible to talk to!’ she shouted before storming inside, slamming the patio door behind her.

  Men. Bloody stupid men. He’d turned her thoughts upside down and inside out, but she had to admit there was something in his argument. He should have discussed it with me first. Then she might have got used to the idea, but springing it on her in this mysterious way, giving her no choice in the matter… That was plain wrong, and she wasn’t going to let him do it to her. I’m going whether he likes it or not. The thought shocked her for a moment before she gritted her teeth and committed to her decision. It’s my life. It’s me who has to live with my conscience.

  She grabbed the rucksack that they used for their excursions and stomped upstairs to the bedroom. She’d thought they were booked onto a flight in the morning, but now she realised that was a fantasy. He’d booked one-way tickets. There was nothing stopping her getting a flight, though, and there were bound to be spare seats at this time of year. Obviously, she couldn’t take her suitcase because he’d notice, but she could squeeze a couple of outfits and essentials in the rucksack and he’d never know.

  The plan formed in her mind as she quickly stuffed belongings in the bag. She would go back to Brighton, talk everything over with her gran and see what she thought, check whether she’d mind if they put alternative care plans in place for a little while. Maybe I’ll contact Lucy and Mark, suggest they could be more active in terms of looking after Gran for a few months.

  That thought made her insides clench. Could she really bring herself to contact them, let alone ask for a favour? Something about the vitriol in their last conversation still lingered and she had no intention of letting either of them wound her like that again. That was the problem with harsh words: once they were said, they could never be taken back, their imprint stamped on her mind forever.

  She had the number for the taxi firm that Dan had been using, having picked up a card from the kitchen worktop when Dan wasn’t looking; she just needed to find her handbag, then she’d be good to go. While Dan was cooking their meal, she’d borrow his phone to ring her gran, something she had done a few times, so he wouldn’t suspect anything. Then she’d book her flight and the taxi to pick her up from the village in the morning, and she’d creep out while he was asleep, be gone without him knowing until it was too late. Once she was at the airport, then what could he do to stop her? Nothing. She nodded and zipped up the bag, stuffing it under her side of the bed, hoping he wouldn’t look under there as part of his nightly security checks.

  Where would he hide my handbag?

  She was about to start looking when footsteps thundered up the stairs, and she dashed into the bathroom and started running a bath before coming back into the bedroom just as Dan appeared in the doorway.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Dan looked worried.

  ‘Fine. I’m fine. Just thought I’d have a bath to see if that will help me relax a bit.’

  He ran a hand through his hair, face pinched with tension. ‘I’m sorry. I’ve made a complete mess of everything.’

  They stared at each other for a moment.

  ‘What I don’t understand is why this place is safer than anywhere else.’ She shrugged. ‘If I understood that, maybe I could find this situation easier to accept.’

  Dan sat on the bed and she leant against the wall, almost too weary to stand up.

  ‘Nobody knows we’re here, for one thing. Only your gran knows we’re in Menorca and not the Maldives, and I’m assuming she’s not told anyone, given that she doesn’t actually go out. And this place is a private house, not a holiday let, so it’s not on any database anywhere. We didn’t book a package deal, so there’s no holiday rep expecting us to be anywhere.’

  His words brought a chill to her skin. He was right. They were invisible and something about that scared her. He could keep her prisoner here and nobody would report her missing. Because she wouldn’t be. And would her gran really care enough to alert the authorities if she didn’t hear from her? No, she wouldn’t, because Chloe was with her husband. Technically, she was right where she should be. Technically, she was safe. So why was her body trembling at the prospect of a future where she was locked in every night and escorted everywhere she went? Why was the bigness of her husband a worry rather than something that made her feel secure?

  She gazed at him. What would happen if he had another nightmare, lashed out and she couldn’t get away from him? Her shoulders tightened.

  She noticed the fine lines drawn down each side of his mouth, the contours of his face, the clump of hair that flopped over his forehead, refusing to stay back. Her heart lurched. What will he do when he realises I’m gone? She closed her eyes, a hurricane of conflicting emotions whirling inside her head, making it ache.

  At a subconscious level, there was no doubt that she wanted to be with him, but the sensible part of her brain was yelling at her, telling her this was no way for her husband to behave, his expectations over and above what could be classed as normal. He was either deranged or had done something bad, and neither of those scenarios pointed to a rosy future.

  Her eyes blinked open. ‘If I’m so safe here, why do you lock the windows and doors every night and hide the keys?’

  He looked at the top of her head, avoiding her eyes. ‘Simple security measures, that’s all. It’s not good practice to leave keys on the insides of doors and windows because a burglar can get to them.’

  ‘But you said we were safe here, so why would you even need to think about that?’

  He frowned, his stare boring into her. She stiffened and held her breath.

  ‘Why all the questions?’ His voice was sharp, angry. ‘I’m not sure what you’re accusing me of here. I’m only trying to look after you and you keep throwing my efforts back at me as if I’m doing something wrong.’

  She gritted her teeth. Leave it for now. He had an answer for everything and she had to accept that talking wasn’t going to get her anywhere. The conversation had only made her more determined to leave. Once he was asleep, she could turn the house upside down if necessary to find the keys because he was a sound sleeper. Unless he has a nightmare. She’d just have to make sure he was relaxed before he went to sleep. Make him think that everything is okay, back to normal.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ She looked at the floor. ‘I just feel all jumpy and on edge. Worried about Gran. It’s such a big thing, leaving her.’

  His voice softened. ‘Now that you’ve explained it all – now I know what happened to your mum – I understand how protective you feel. But like I said, your circumstances have changed. You’re married now. The responsibility needs to be shared. And anyway, she has the carer going in every day, so there’s nothing to worry about.’

  Chloe nodded. ‘I know. You’re right. I’m going to have a nice long bath and then ring her while you make dinner. Try and explain it to her and see what arrangements we can make for now to tide her over. Okay?’

  He gazed into her eyes for a long moment while her heart pounded.

  What can he see? Can he tell I’m lying? Can he?

  Twenty-One

  Chloe waited until Dan was fast asleep, his breathing deep and settled, then, with her pulse thudding in her ears, she crept out of bed and over to the chair where he’d draped his trousers. Quietly as she could, she dipped a hand in his pockets but found only coins and a few receipts. She tried his shoes, but there was nothing in them either.

  The bedclothes rustled as Dan moved and she held her breath, still crouched by the c
hair in the corner of the room.

  ‘Chloe?’ His sleepy question floated in the air.

  Can he see me? Her heart raced faster as she tried to work out what to do.

  More rustling. She tensed.

  ‘Chloe!’

  ‘I’m here,’ she said, standing, hoping he hadn’t noticed her movement. ‘I was just wanting to get a bit of air in the room. I can’t sleep I’m so hot. And being next to you doesn’t help. It’s like sleeping next to a radiator.’ She sighed, trying to make her frustration clear, hoping he’d take pity. ‘I wanted to open the window. I know you said the bugs would get in, but if I just open it a crack there might be a bit of a draught, something to cool the air in here.’

  He was silent for a moment, then she heard the movement of bedclothes, and through the gloom she could see a dark outline sitting on the edge of the bed. She thought she heard a slight scraping noise. His bedside drawer? That would make sense. The lamp flicked on and she squinted in the sudden light, watched him walk over to where she was standing. She held her breath, heart pumping so hard she felt dizzy. He unlocked the window and left the key in the lock before turning to her. She leant against the wall, all the strength draining from her legs. It’s possible now. But she knew she had to be patient.

  ‘There you are. That better?’

  ‘Thank you,’ she said and wrapped her arms around him, tipping her head back for a kiss.

  They’d made love that evening, before going to sleep, and he smelt of sex, reminding her how good their union had been. Despite everything that had happened, all her reservations had been wiped away by the strength of her love for him, the fierce passion that he instilled in her. It wasn’t something she had any control over, wasn’t something that could be rationalised in any way. She loved him and that was that.

  Should I really go? she wondered now, feeling safe and warm in his embrace. Or should I bide my time for a few days, see if things settle down. She leant her head against his chest, the decision tearing at her heart.

  What about Gran?

  She had spoken to her earlier in the evening, as planned.

  ‘You don’t have to ring me so often, you know.’ Those had been her first words. Chloe had tensed. Not a ‘thank you for bothering to check that I’m safe and well’. Or a ‘how are you, love – are you having a nice honeymoon?’ No, a telling off. A dismissal, as if she didn’t matter. Maybe in Gran’s world, I don’t. She’d have to admit it was a thought that popped up on a regular basis.

  She reminded herself that her gran was not comfortable chatting on the phone and had never been one for long conversations. It would be easy to make wrong assumptions. She’d swallowed her hurt and waited a moment before responding so she could be sure that her voice would be steady. ‘I like to know that everything’s okay, Gran.’

  ‘Well, the woman’s coming in and doing my food and she does my chest-clearing exercises really well. Better than you, I think. Not so rough. I quite like her, actually. Nice and cheerful.’

  Little barbs, as usual. Nothing nice to say and Chloe wondered whether Dan had got it right. Her gran clearly wasn’t bothered if she was there or not, and Chloe was getting worked up about something that didn’t matter.

  But it matters to me. What if she dies while I’m away? That was the constant fear nagging away at the back of her mind. What if the same thing happened again, and a relative died while supposedly in her care? She’d never forgive herself.

  I’ve got to go back for my peace of mind, she’d decided. I can organise a longer-term arrangement with the agency, get it properly sorted out. Then she might be happier about coming back and helping Dan to sort through whatever problem he was struggling with. It was the only possible option. Not going back was no solution at all, not if she wanted to have a clear conscience.

  Now, she lingered in her husband’s embrace, unsure whether she was about to destroy the most important relationship of her life. She clung to him until he gently pulled away, his eyes dark in the dim lamplight, a playful smile on his lips.

  ‘Have you cooled down now? Because I can tell you, I’m starting to heat up here. Shall we go back to bed?’

  She took his hand, her mind on nothing more than her love for her husband and her burning desire for him. Perhaps I won’t go.

  They fell asleep wrapped in each other’s arms until Chloe woke suddenly, a nightmare of being chased making her heart race and her eyes snap open. It took a moment for her to understand where she was and to realise it was just a dream, however real it had felt. The night was no longer black and the golden light of dawn crept across the sky, filtering through the shutters. She was wide awake. She wriggled free of Dan’s arms and sneaked into the bathroom, where she sat on the loo, jumpy and anxious while she worked out what the nightmare had been about. What was her brain trying to tell her?

  I’ve got to go back. Then the worry of whether Gran’s all right can’t chase me around. That’s what the dream was about. I’ve got to go.

  The previous evening, she’d managed to find her handbag while she was upstairs on the pretext of talking to her gran. Dan had been busy cooking, and since her phone conversation had only lasted a couple of minutes, she’d taken the opportunity to have a scout around. It had been hidden under the wardrobe in the spare room, pushed right to the back, where Dan’s long arm could reach but hers couldn’t. It took a bit of jiggling about, but she’d finally manoeuvred it out with the toilet brush.

  Everything was in there, so he’d obviously been using her bag as a place to store all their valuables – easier to carry with them when they went out, she supposed. He must have taken her passport from her make-up bag, and his passport was there too. She’d stared at it for a moment then tucked it back in her bag. Without it, he won’t be following me anywhere, she’d decided, with a sigh of relief. Quickly, she’d found her bank card, booked her flight and put everything in the rucksack, ready for her escape.

  I’m ready. I can go, she told herself now.

  She brushed her hair, splashed water on her face to wake herself up, and crept back into the bedroom, hardly daring to breathe. The key was still in the window lock and she slipped it out, wriggled the rucksack out from under the bed and crept downstairs, where she dressed.

  As a last-minute thought, she wrote him a note on the back of an envelope she found in her bag.

  Gone back to sort out Gran’s care.

  Chloe x

  She put it on the table, weighted with a mug.

  Time was moving on, and she knew she’d have to hurry if she was to be in the village by seven o’clock to meet the taxi. With no sign of the door keys anywhere, a window was her only escape. The one in the dining-room was reasonably large, and she managed to squeeze herself out, having dropped her bags down first. At least it was getting light now; she pushed her worries about the dark forest to the back of her mind and jogged down the track, focused only on getting to the airport.

  * * *

  The taxi was waiting, idling outside the shop, and she got in, desperate to get going in case she changed her mind and ran back to her husband. She twisted to look out of the rear window, heart pounding, breath rasping in her throat as she scanned the road, imagining Dan appearing behind them.

  Her mind was like a nest of snakes, thoughts weaving in and out, contradicting each other. One minute she was recalling a loving moment, the next the fear she’d felt when he was in the middle of his nightmare, or when his face took on that hardness round the jaw and his eyes narrowed, his voice clipped and firm.

  As they drove through the countryside towards the airport, she thought about the questions he wouldn’t answer, his conviction that she was in danger for a reason he wouldn’t articulate. It doesn’t make sense. And neither did coming here on their honeymoon, to a place where he had a son. There was no sense to any of it, no working it out. Was he having some sort of breakdown and needed her support to get through it? Or had he done something wrong and was running away? Whatever was happening, he ha
d no right to control her, no right to keep her prisoner. And she had every right to sort out her responsibilities in her own way. Because it’s me who has to live with the consequences.

  But what was the consequence of going against his wishes?

  Am I making the biggest mistake of my life?

  Twenty-Two

  By the time Chloe boarded the plane, she was feeling decidedly queasy, her stomach churning, her bloodstream full of adrenaline as she constantly checked over her shoulder to make sure Dan hadn’t appeared. Exhausted, she collapsed into her seat, gratefully tucking into a pastry she’d bought in the airport. She hoped it would satiate the hunger that gnawed at her belly and allow her to sleep for the rest of the journey, but it seemed to make things worse and she found herself dashing to the toilets to be sick. Nerves, she decided, but at the back of her mind, another possibility appeared, one that she really couldn’t entertain. It’s just the crappy airport food, she reassured herself, settling back in her seat. But the idea had hooked into her thoughts like a leech, sucking everything else away until it was all that was left.

  I’m pregnant.

  Her hands went to her mouth, eyes wide. I can’t be. But as she started working out dates, it became obvious there was an odds-on chance she was. A few years ago, she’d gone on the contraceptive pill, but it had disagreed with her so badly she’d had to stop. In all honesty, when she thought about it now, they’d been a bit slapdash about contraception. She covered her face with her hands. Oh, Christ! I can’t even think about it.

  ‘You all right, love?’ The passenger to her right, a middle-aged woman with an abundance of suntanned flesh spilling out of her summer clothing, frowned at her. ‘You’re looking a bit peaky. Isn’t she, George?’ The man sitting next to her leant forwards and peered at Chloe, who gave them the best smile she could muster.

  She shook her head. ‘I’m fine, thanks. Just feel a bit queasy.’