What She Saw: A gripping psychological thriller with a heart-pounding twist

by Wendy Clarke

‘Maybe not.’ Carina narrowed her eyes. ‘But they might care if I told them who you were with.’

  ‘I wasn’t with anyone.’

  ‘So I was imagining the fit-looking guy with the long hair, was I? The one who looked so worried about you. You’ve kept him quiet. Wonder what he sees in you. It can’t be your magnetic personality, that’s for sure.’

  ‘Fuck off, Carina. You don’t know anything.’ Beth pressed the bridge of her nose with her finger and thumb. David must have followed her out onto the road. She’d been drunk; she hadn’t realised. All she remembered was the rain and the misery. How, after wiping her mouth on her sleeve, she’d run back home, believing he hadn’t cared.

  ‘How old is he anyway?

  ‘He’s twenty-four, if you must know. It’s not that old.’ Carina was right, though. Her parents would go ape-shit if they found out. Her mum was overprotective enough as it was. ‘Anyway, I’m not seeing him. He’s just a friend.’

  ‘If you say so. I wonder whether the other girls would agree with you?’ Carina gave a wave to Keira, who was just going in, and Beth felt self-pity wash over her.

  Her shoulders sagged in resignation. ‘Don’t tell them, Carina.’

  ‘I’d have thought you’d have wanted them to know, Jessica. Something to be proud of.’ Carina pushed herself away from the rail. ‘You never know, you might even get another nickname. I wonder what they’ll come up with? On second thoughts, they’ll probably just use the good old standard that everyone recognises. Slag.’

  With a laugh, she turned her back on Beth and pushed her way into the building.

  Beth folded her arms across her chest, wishing she could disappear. She hated her… Hated all of them. The only person who’d seen her for who she really was, was David.

  And now she’d blown that too.

  Twenty-Six

  Leona

  ‘Gareth did hit Ria again, of course. Men like that always do.’

  I’m looking at a small stain on the carpet, near the coffee table, wondering what has made it. Was it an accident? Was it deliberate? It makes me think of all the faceless men and women who have sat in this very chair, turning their lives inside out for Lisa to view.

  ‘But, of course, you’d know that, wouldn’t you,’ I continue. ‘You must see hundreds of people in your job with the same story.’

  ‘Not hundreds,’ Lisa says, her fingers steepled under her chin. ‘But enough. Do you feel able to carry on?’

  ‘Carry on? I suppose so.’

  After all, it’s something I’ve been doing for the last twelve years. Since Ria made her choice and turned my world upside down. Since the monstrous thing she did.

  ‘Ria became more and more cut off from people. Gareth’s version of her became who she was. Boring, stupid.’ Lisa is studying my face. She will have seen the contempt I’ve been unable to hide. Hear the disdain in my voice. I continue anyway. ‘She became dependent on him for everything. Especially money. He’d come home with clothes and toys for Lily, but, if she wanted anything for herself, she’d have to time it carefully. Think about what to say and when to say it, so as not to make him angry.’

  Standing, I walk to Lisa’s shelf of books, running my finger along the spines.

  ‘And when he wasn’t threatening her, he ignored her. His weapon was silence. Cut off from her family and friends like she was, she needed his love. Life became all about making him happy.’

  I think of Scott. His easy-going nature and the ironic smile that’s never far from his lips. Ria wouldn’t have known what true love was. Would only have known a hand raised in anger, not in tenderness. One that left a bruise, rather than the shiver that lingers after a caress.

  ‘There was Lily, of course, but she was just a baby. Poor Ria. She was little more than a child herself when Gareth came into her life.’

  Lisa nods and writes something in her notes. ‘It’s the first time you’ve shown sympathy for her, Leona. That’s a good thing.’

  ‘Is it? I’m not sure.’

  It’s the anger that’s kept me sane as I’ve tried to come to terms with what happened. It’s what’s helped build the wall around me. One that I’ve only allowed Scott and Beth to breach. But where there’s been anger, there has also been fear. Remembering Ria is taking me to places I had hoped to leave behind. Unlocking rooms in my heart that I had hoped would remain secure.

  I think of my outburst in Beth’s room. How my paranoia has affected our relationship more than I could ever have imagined.

  ‘Last night I mentioned Ria to my daughter.’

  Lisa shows no surprise. ‘And what did she say?’

  ‘She doesn’t remember, she was too young, but I was scared and I lost my temper when I began to question her. It frightened me. A child should never have to fear her parent.’

  ‘No, they shouldn’t.’

  We sit in silence and I know we’re both thinking about the same person.

  ‘Did Gareth ever hurt Lily, do you think?’ Lisa asks eventually.

  The question shocks me. ‘Never. She was a sweet child. Despite the way he treated Ria, he adored her.’

  ‘Do you think she knew what was going on?’

  ‘I don’t think so. She was only little. When it all ended, she was still only four.’

  ‘Children absorb more than you think. They might not understand all that’s being said, but they can recognise the emotion behind the words… Anger… Fear… Even if it’s not directed at them.’

  ‘I know what you’re doing. You’re using Ria’s daughter to excuse what happened.’ I turn to her and realise I’m shouting. ‘Nothing can excuse what she did. Nothing.’

  If Lisa is concerned by my outburst, she doesn’t show it. Instead, she gets up and walks over to the other side of the room where there is a low table. On it is a tray with two cups and saucers. A kettle is plugged into the wall and she flicks the switch to turn it on. I watch as the bubbles, in their stripe of clear Perspex, rise as quickly as my anger did just now. When the water has boiled, the bubbles calm. I try to steady my breathing.

  ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to shout.’

  ‘You don’t need to apologise, Leona.’ She smiles at me. ‘Your session isn’t over yet, but I think you could do with a break. Would you like some coffee or tea? I have camomile. It might help.’

  I sit down, exhaustion washing over me. I’ve kept things bottled inside me for so long that I worry they’ll explode out, like the contents of a soda siphon. Whatever I say can never be taken back. The thought scares me.

  ‘That would be good. Thanks.’ I wait while Lisa pours boiling water over the tea bag. She doesn’t make a drink for herself. Coming back to where we’ve been sitting, she puts the cup on the table in front of me.

  ‘I’m worried Beth’s being bullied.’ I’ve no idea why I’ve said that. The words have come from nowhere.

  Lisa sits down, placing her hands in her lap. ‘What makes you think that?’

  I think of Beth’s closed face. The way she avoids questions. Her defensiveness. I’ve seen these things before. Seen them in Ria.

  ‘Call it a mother’s instinct. She’s never been happy at her school, but recently things have got worse. She doesn’t want to go out any more. Just stays in her room, drawing. Ria was the same. She used to be the life and soul… until Gareth. He changed her into someone I didn’t recognise and there was nothing I could do to help her. What if I can’t help Beth?’

  ‘You can’t hold yourself responsible for everything, Leona. Beth is an adolescent. Mood swings are par for the course.’

  I’m not listening, my mind worrying over the facts. ‘I think she may be skipping school too. It’s happened before.’

  ‘I see.’ Lisa looks concerned and it makes a shiver run down my spine. ‘Have you spoken to the school?’

  I shake my head. ‘Not yet.’

  ‘I think you should… as a first step.’

  ‘You’re right, I suppose, but why is she doing this? I sometimes wonder wh
ether I should talk to her about what happened in the past. Maybe I’m the cause of whatever it is that’s troubling her.’

  ‘No, Leona. That wouldn’t be a good idea. There’s a chance it could make things worse for her if she knows. If she remembers, it mustn’t cloud how she feels about you.’

  ‘Shall I go on with the story?’

  Lisa looks at the clock on the wall. ‘We could extend the session by thirty minutes if you like. I think it’s important we talk about how it all ended, don’t you?’

  My heart is beating a tattoo in my chest, but I know that I have to go on. The only problem is… which story to tell?

  Twenty-Seven

  Ria

  The house was quiet when Ria let herself in, just the murmur of the television coming from the living room. As she stood in the hallway, she tried to work out how she felt. Was it excitement that clawed at her stomach, or fear?

  Trying to control her emotions, she put her head around the door of the living room. It was empty, but there were signs that her babysitter, Abbie, had been there: the throw from the back of the settee had been left in a heap on the floor and the empty cover of a box set sat on the coffee table. Abbie was the teenage daughter of the family who lived next door and, although it had taken Ria a long time to pluck up the courage to ask her, she’d been more than happy to look after Lily for a few hours.

  On the television, a police officer was escorting a youth to a panda car, placing his hand on his head as he pushed him down into the back seat. Another stood on the pavement, writing something in a notebook. Ria stood in the doorway, watching the flashing blue light as the car moved away into the night. It wasn’t the sort of thing she ever watched.

  Going back out to the hall, Ria could hear a kettle being filled in the kitchen and the clatter of a mug on the marble worktop.

  ‘I’m back, Abbie,’ she called. ‘I’ll be with you in a minute – I’m just going to check on Lily.’

  She was about to take off her coat when she changed her mind. The black dress she was wearing was an old one from her student days. Although quite plain, it was short and not exactly the thing she’d wear to see her parents. That was where she’d told Abbie she was going when the girl had arrived earlier – a precaution in case Gareth discovered she’d been out. Not that there was any reason why he would. These days, if he went out, he didn’t come home until the small hours, if at all, and, as far as she knew, he never spoke to the neighbours. No, her secret was safe.

  Crossing the hallway to Lily’s room, she pushed open the door. The light from the hall cast a white stripe across her daughter’s bed and she could just make out her sleeping figure. Lily lay with her duvet clutched in her small hand, her sandy hair, so much like Gareth’s, falling across her face. Kneeling beside the bed, Ria gently pushed Lily’s hair away from her cheek and kissed it, breathing in the smell of her. She stayed there for a moment, her arm around her, watching the rise and fall of her chest, feeling the warmth of her breath on her cheek.

  Without warning, a picture came into her head, the memory too strong to push away. A different child. A tiny hand, so cold. So very, very cold. Ria’s heart clenched in a vice-like grip and tears pooled in her eyes. What if she couldn’t keep Lily safe?

  Feeling Lily stir, Ria forced herself back to the present. She stood and gently pulled the duvet up around her daughter’s shoulders, then she turned and, in the half light, took in the room: the jumble of soft toys piled up at the end of the bed, the moon and stars mobile that had hung from the ceiling ever since Lily was a baby, and the doll’s house in the corner that Gareth had bought her for her fourth birthday.

  It was hard to believe that tomorrow they would be leaving all this. That she and Lily would be starting a new life. She felt a wave of nausea at the thought of what she was going to do. She could still see the dismay on Leo’s face as she’d shown her the fresh bruises at the top of her arms. The wine they’d been drinking had made it easier to talk. To tell the secret she’d been keeping for the last four years. But her words had come as no surprise to Leo.

  As she’d pulled her cardigan back over her shoulder, and felt her friend’s tears against her cheek as she was pulled into a hug, she’d known that she couldn’t take any more. It would break her heart, but she had to leave Gareth. For too long she’d been like a caged bird, with Gareth holding the key to the door. Leo was right. She needed to break free. If not for her own sake, then for her daughter’s.

  Ria’s hand moved to her bag. The piece of paper, with the solicitor’s number Leo had given her, would be her way out. Once she was in the safety of her parents’ house, she’d ring him.

  She looked at the sleeping child, a rising tide of guilt lapping at her. The bond between Lily and her father was strong. What if Lily hated her for taking her away from him?

  Tonight, Gareth was at a work do, a corporate event at a smart hotel near St James’s Park, all black tie and cocktail dresses. He hadn’t wanted her with him – couldn’t trust her not to embarrass him, he’d said – but how could she have gone anyway, with the marks from his fingers still visible on the tops of her arms? She took a shuddering breath. What would he do if he knew what she was planning?

  With a last look at Lily, she left the bedroom, leaving the door ajar. This time she had to be strong. She’d tried to leave before, but always she’d backed out. Scared of what he might do if he found her. Scared of his threats. Not this time, though. This time she would do it.

  Abbie was putting her coffee cup and biscuit plate into the dishwasher. Ria could hear the clink of china and the rattle of the cutlery as she slid the tray closed.

  ‘Leave that, Abbie. I’ll do it later…’

  She stopped. Her body rigid. It wasn’t Abbie who leant against the kitchen counter, arms folded. It was Gareth.

  She felt the breath leave her body. ‘You’re home.’

  ‘One of us is.’ His pupils were glassy. ‘Where the hell were you?’

  She swallowed. ‘I went to see my mum and dad.’

  ‘So that kid from next door said.’ His eyes bored into her, seeking out the lie, paralysing her. Pushing himself away from the counter, he walked unsteadily towards her.

  Forcing her limbs to move, Ria took a step backwards, the stainless-steel bin rocking as she made contact with it.

  ‘I haven’t seen them for nearly a year. I didn’t think you’d mind.’

  He’d reached her, his hand grabbing at the lapel of her coat. He forced it down over her shoulder. ‘So you went to see your parents dressed like a whore?’

  Ria looked at her black dress, remembering how good it had felt to wear it – taking her back to a time when things were simpler. Before the nightmare began. Now the dress was just a symbol of her guilt.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ The apology was automatic.

  Gareth’s head was close to hers now. She could feel his breath… smell it. He grabbed her face, his finger and thumb digging into the skin of her cheeks. ‘Where have you been?’ He squeezed harder. ‘And don’t fucking lie to me.’

  His forehead had a film of sweat on it and damp patches had begun to bloom under the armpits of his expensive blue shirt.

  ‘I told you. I went to see my parents.’ She was gambling with his patience, but she couldn’t let him know the truth.

  Letting go of her face, he smiled. Once, it would have melted her heart. Not now. ‘Why don’t you empty your bag?’

  ‘No.’ Ria placed her hand over the zip as if that might be enough to stop him. Inside the bag was the solicitor’s number. He mustn’t see it.

  ‘I said empty your fucking bag!’ Grabbing the bag off her shoulder, he fumbled at the zip, turning it over and emptying the contents onto the floor.

  A lipstick rolled under one of the bar stools and Ria watched it, steeling herself for what was to come. Swaying slightly, Gareth pushed at the few things with the toe of his shiny black shoe. There was her purse, her brush, her mobile phone. The paper with the number on was not amongst the it
ems scattered across the tiles.

  With relief, Ria remembered that she’d tucked the piece of paper into one of the inside pockets. With luck, he wouldn’t find it. But even as she thought it, his hand was inside the bag, probing and pulling.

  He held the piece of paper between his thumb and forefinger like a prize. ‘What’s this?’

  ‘It’s nothing.’

  Reaching a hand behind him to steady himself on the kitchen island, he read it, then put it down on the shiny counter. His voice was icy. ‘Andrew Clearly. Who the fuck is that?’

  Ria wondered whether she could make a run for it. Get out onto the street and bang on Abbie’s door. Tell her she was married to a madman. She backed away, hoping to get out into the hall, but it was only when her back came up against the sharp edge of the marble worktop that she realised she’d misjudged it.

  His gaze hardened. ‘If you’re having an affair, I swear I will kill you.’

  Ria was near to tears, but she knew of old that if she broke down in front of him, it would only make him angrier.

  ‘I’m not, Gareth. You’ve got to believe me.’

  ‘Why would I believe you when you’re nothing but a jumped-up whore? If I hadn’t picked you up from that sleazy cesspit of a bar, nobody else would have touched you. Just look at you. You’re ridiculous.’

  Hard though she tried, Ria couldn’t stop the tears from falling. She glanced behind her. ‘You’ll wake Lily.’

  ‘And what if I do? Don’t think she doesn’t know what her mother gets up to when her dad’s not here. How many others are there sniffing around?’

  ‘It’s not like that.’ She edged her way along the worktop, hoping to reach the door, but in two strides, Gareth was there, blocking her way. She would have to tell him.

  ‘Andrew Clearly is a solicitor.’

  ‘What do you want a solicitor for?’ He leant against the door frame, his voice calm now, but his words were like a net closing in. Slowly, he rolled up his sleeves and she knew what was coming. She could lie or tell the truth. Either way, she’d lose. The truth was easier. ‘I’m leaving you, Gareth. I’ve had enough.’