Trust Me: An absolutely gripping and unputdownable psychological thriller

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Trust Me: An absolutely gripping and unputdownable psychological thriller Page 9

by Sheryl Browne


  ‘Was it something important?’ she asked. ‘It’s just that with only the two of us out there and Fran coming in later to do her cleaning, we’re a bit backed up.’

  Noting the formal tone, Jake sighed inwardly. He guessed that Fran would be talking the hind leg off a donkey, as she always did, and he knew Emily and Nicky had their work cut out without a much-needed extra medical secretary to take on some of the load, but … ‘Yes,’ he said, getting to his feet again to walk around her and close the door, ‘it is important. Extremely. Assuming you think our marriage is important, that is?’

  Emily’s eyes immediately shot to the floor. ‘I’d rather not discuss our personal problems here, Jake. It’s inappropriate,’ she said, taking a step towards the door.

  Jake had his back to it, however, and inappropriate or not, he wasn’t about to move until she heard what he had to say. He took a breath. ‘I love you, Emily. Whatever it is you’re thinking I’ve done or am doing, please believe it isn’t true.’ He held his breath and waited.

  Emily didn’t answer. She wouldn’t look at him either.

  Jake felt his heart sink. Where was this leading? What would he do if she announced she wanted a separation? A divorce? Jesus, he couldn’t handle that. He couldn’t have nothing in his life but work. His father, who he actually wished had never been part of his life. The thought of working here without Emily alongside him caused his heart to plummet to the pit of his stomach.

  ‘I love my kids, too, more than anything. I need you in my life, all of you,’ he said gruffly. He wished she would say something, anything. ‘I don’t understand, Em. I really don’t.’ Swallowing back a jagged knot in his throat, he took a step towards her. ‘Knowing what you know about me, do you honestly think I would do anything to put my family in jeopardy?’

  Still she didn’t answer.

  ‘Look at me, Emily,’ he implored her, his voice catching.

  She seemed to prevaricate, and then lifted her head, meeting his gaze at last. Her cheeks were flushed, her wide blue eyes shiny with tears.

  ‘Em? Please believe me,’ he begged her. He was flailing. There was nothing else he could think of to say to convince her. He couldn’t bear to see her like this, so down and flat. He was scared.

  Her eyes flicked away. ‘I know you love Millie and Ben,’ she said eventually. ‘I thought I knew you loved me, but …’

  ‘I do.’ Jake took another step towards her. ‘I’ve always loved you. You must know that.’

  ‘But how can I?’ Emily took a step back. ‘How can I know that you’re not relying on me believing you could never be like your father in order to cover your tracks?’

  ‘You know me, Emily,’ he tried. ‘Probably better than I do myself. I hate what he did. What he is. I would rather cut my throat than be like him.’

  ‘But you might not be able to help yourself.’ She searched his eyes, her own full of confusion.

  Jake ran a hand over his neck. She didn’t believe him. ‘Right, so you really do think I would throw all we have away for … what? An affair with a married woman? One of my patients?’ He looked at her in astonishment.

  Emily dropped her gaze, indicating that she did, clearly.

  ‘And the basis of this is that you think I’m like my father?’ he asked tiredly.

  ‘No,’ she answered quickly. ‘Not just that.’

  He tipped his head to one side, eyeing her curiously. ‘There’s something else then?’

  She hesitated. ‘You were seeing someone before,’ she said, her voice small, her eyes still cast down.

  ‘What?’ Now Jake was truly astonished. ‘When? I’ve never seen anyone else. I’ve never even so much as looked—’

  ‘Before we were married,’ Emily blurted. ‘I saw you in the bar with her.’

  He shook his head. ‘You have to be joking,’ he said, feeling physically winded.

  ‘You said it was nothing …’

  ‘It was nothing.’ He wondered if he was hearing her right. He didn’t even remember it, for Christ’s—

  ‘And I believed you. And then you proposed to me, and I thought that maybe you felt pressurised and …’

  ‘Because I bloody well loved you,’ Jake said vehemently as she trailed off. ‘I wanted to be with you. Have you honestly been dwelling on this all these years? Imagining I was … what? A serial adulterer?’

  ‘No.’ Emily denied it, her cheeks flushing hotly. Then, ‘I don’t know,’ she murmured, her eyes travelling down again. ‘You’re always working late.’

  Jake pressed his thumb and forefinger hard against his forehead. ‘Because I have to. You know how much there is to do.’

  ‘Every single night?’ she challenged him. ‘You go off to call-outs without telling me—’

  ‘Right,’ he interrupted, his frustration growing. ‘So you’re saying that you think I’ve been using patient call-outs as some kind of cover-up for an affair? With Natasha Jameson, the wife of a mutual friend? A good friend? Christ, Emily …’

  ‘Don’t look at me as if I’m mad,’ she snapped. ‘You obviously have been attracted to other women, looked at other women. Whether or not it was before we were married, you were seeing me at the time, Jake. Or supposed to be.’

  ‘Except that you didn’t appear to want to see me,’ he reminded her, now utterly despairing.

  ‘I explained all that. I’d been treated badly by a man and I was nervous.’

  ‘Was I treating you badly?’

  ‘No, I …’ Emily faltered. ‘I was pregnant. I was confused. I didn’t want you to be with me because you felt obliged to be.’

  ‘I didn’t feel obliged.’ Jake kneaded his forehead in frustration. ‘I’ve just told you. I—’

  ‘But that’s beside the point,’ Emily cut in. ‘We’re talking about where we are now. Our marriage. People who are married do have affairs. Most marriages break up because people have affairs. If two people are sexually attracted, they tend to throw everything that’s supposed to matter to them out of the window. I mean, let’s face it, the thought of illicit sex is a powerful aphrodisiac, isn’t it?’

  ‘Unbelievable.’ Jake eyed the ceiling. ‘I am not sexually attracted to Natasha, for God’s sake,’ he grated, looking back at her. ‘Why the hell do you think I would be?’

  ‘Because she’s attractive,’ Emily pointed out, ridiculously. ‘Slim, abundantly blessed in the breast department.’

  ‘That’s utter rubbish, Emily.’ His jaw tightened. ‘You can’t just accuse me of having an affair out of jealousy. You’re every bit as attractive—’

  ‘She fancies you!’ Emily’s voice rose. ‘She practically drools whenever she sees you.’

  Jake studied her carefully. ‘You’re deadly serious, aren’t you?’

  Emily said nothing. Her eyes ablaze, she simply stared at him.

  Cold apprehension clutched his stomach. If she’d been comparing herself to Natasha, if this notion that he was having an affair with her, this resentment, had been simmering away inside her, then might she have … ‘Did you send that letter to Michael?’ he asked her. ‘A letter that contained private medical information that could easily have come from here. Did you send it, Emily?’

  Her expression was a combination of shock and hurt. ‘What?’

  ‘The contents of that letter caused an argument that ended in physical violence,’ Jake pointed out, though he knew he didn’t need to, nor did he need to point out the consequences of patient information somehow being leaked. ‘If it did come from here, then I need to know.’

  Emily eyed him furiously. ‘I can’t believe you just accused me of that,’ she fumed, pushing past him to yank the door open.

  Me neither, Jake thought, his own temper dangerously close to spilling over. Breathing in hard, he turned to go after her.

  ‘She obviously spoke to you about the contents of the letter then,’ Emily threw over her shoulder.

  ‘I went to see her. Obviously she told me—’

  ‘I know. In a hotel,�
�� Emily hissed, striding out.

  ‘Emily …’ Jake stopped, realising they had an audience: Nicky, who was looking warily past Emily towards him; and Fran Nateman, their cleaner, who revelled in local gossip, embroidering it or even inventing it half the time, and who looked actually excited to be getting a juicy dollop to get her teeth into. There were also patients waiting, most of whom, obviously having heard raised voices, looked uncomfortably away. Also Sally, whose sympathetic frown accompanied by a heartfelt sigh made him feel uncomfortable.

  Shit. Averting his gaze, he walked back to his office, trying to recall as he went what he and Emily had just said. Closing the door, his heart jolted when he realised that he’d as good as announced they were breaking patient confidentiality.

  Christ. Once the village drums started beating, that would get around like greased lightning.

  Eleven

  Emily

  Her professional smile fixed in place, Emily exited the toilets more composed than when she’d gone in. She wasn’t surprised to find Fran behind the reception desk, dusting being her excuse to natter to Tom, who’d obviously just arrived, and whom she would feel duty-bound to fill in on the gossip. All eyes swivelled in her direction and there was a sudden obvious silence as she approached.

  ‘Okay, Emily?’ Nicky asked, smiling tentatively as she went around to her desk.

  ‘Yes thanks, Nicky.’ Forcing a smile in return, Emily seated herself at her PC, behind which she hoped she might hide her embarrassment.

  ‘Morning,’ Tom said, his tone far too chipper and obviously determined to engage her in conversation. From the curious look on his face, Fran had obviously already told him about her argument with Jake and he was on a fishing expedition to find out more.

  ‘Morning, Tom,’ Emily replied, determined not to get drawn into conversation. She felt like running away, but she could hardly go home, setting an example to Nicky that relationship problems justified time off sick. In any case, the beautiful home she and Jake had built together wasn’t a place she particularly wanted to be right now. It would be too painful a reminder that the foundations beneath it were crumbling.

  ‘I was hoping to have a word with Jake sometime today about the never-ending budget problems,’ Tom went on, loitering annoyingly. ‘Do you know if he’s free after evening surgery? About six … ish?’

  ‘Well I assume he’ll be here,’ Emily said curtly. ‘But then I’m not always privy to what his movements are. Why don’t you ask him yourself?’

  ‘Right. Yes. Will do.’ Tom now sounded puzzled, as he would be. Emily didn’t rate him, as a father, or as a man, all things considered, but she didn’t usually allow her personal feelings to affect their professional relationship.

  ‘Sorry, Tom,’ she apologised, noting his perturbed expression. ‘I’m feeling a bit off colour.’

  ‘Not a problem.’ Tom smiled reassuringly. ‘You have a lot on your plate. I wonder how you manage to keep all the balls in the air sometimes. Let me know if I can help.’

  She blinked at him, surprised. She and Tom weren’t close, for obvious reasons, but was that sympathy she could see in his eyes? ‘Thanks, Tom.’ She managed a smile. ‘There is one thing I could use a bit of help with, actually.’

  ‘Fire away,’ he said, plainly keen.

  ‘I’ve decided to organise a party for Edward’s seventieth birthday, and with one thing and another, I haven’t been able to do much about it yet.’

  ‘Splendid idea.’ He rubbed his hands together enthusiastically. ‘The man’s a pillar of the community. We ought to do something special for him. How can I be of assistance?’

  ‘You could put the word out,’ Emily suggested. ‘I’ll be sending invitations, but as I’m a bit pushed for time, I wondered if you could mention it to your patients. I think pretty well everyone knows him.’

  ‘No sooner said than done.’ Tom nodded, looking pleased to have been asked. ‘I’ll drop those I have email addresses for a quick line too. I’m sure they won’t mind, given the occasion.’

  ‘Thanks, Tom.’ Emily breathed a sigh of relief. Despite her own initial enthusiasm, she hadn’t done anything towards making the party happen, other than check the village hall itinerary and have a quick word with Sally, who thought she might be able to get hold of a Beatles tribute band. It wouldn’t be much of a party without people … and catering … and decorations. And then there was the bar to organise. Realising she might have bitten off more than she could chew now that her life seemed to be spiralling out of control, she was beginning to panic.

  ‘Any time,’ Tom assured her. ‘I’d better get on. I’ll have a word with Jake about the budget later.’

  ‘I’ll bring you some tea in, Tom,’ Fran offered as he headed for his office.

  ‘No need, thanks, Fran. I was just off to make one anyway. I imagine Emily could do with one. Strong and sweet, hey, Emily?’

  ‘Please. That would be lovely.’ Reaching for her vitamin pills, along with the pills Jake had prescribed for her iron deficiency, in the hope that they might boost her energy levels, Emily smiled after him. That was the third cup he’d made her in as many days. He seemed to be trying to look after her somehow, as if he truly cared about her. Was it possible he wasn’t so bad after all?

  ‘I’ll do it, Tom,’ Fran insisted, making to follow him. ‘I’m sure you have more important things to do.’

  ‘Nothing at present,’ Tom assured her, looking awkward as he glanced back at her. Fran plainly had a soft spot for him – she couldn’t do enough for him. Emily suspected she quietly fancied him and wondered how long she’d felt that way. Tom obviously didn’t have any reciprocal feelings. He couldn’t seem to get away from her quickly enough whenever she gazed longingly in his direction.

  ‘Oh,’ said Fran, looking deflated.

  Emily glanced up at her, actually feeling quite sorry for her. It couldn’t be easy bringing a child up single-handed on a low income.

  Reminded of her own children, who imagined they were adults but still had so much growing up to do, she pictured their stricken faces when they’d overheard her and Jake arguing, and her heart dipped heavily in her chest. When Millie had come home from Anna’s this morning to get changed, her complexion had been unhealthily pale. Concerned, Emily tried to ask how she was, but Millie’s responses to her questions were monosyllabic. It was clear she didn’t want to speak to her.

  ‘You’re looking nice today,’ Fran observed, as Emily toyed with the idea of texting Millie now, and Ben too, suggesting they go out for a meal together this evening and have a talk. They were probably waiting for that, living in dread of the ‘your father and I love you both dearly, but …’ announcement. Her blood ran cold at the thought of what might be going through their minds.

  ‘Making a bit of an effort, are we?’ Fran went on.

  Emily’s sympathy disappeared. She couldn’t believe the woman was oblivious to the fact that she was actually being insulting. Her gaze gliding in Nicky’s direction, Emily noted she was also boggling in disbelief.

  ‘Cow,’ Nicky mouthed.

  Emily frowned, but said nothing. Nicky was right. Fran pretended concern while she was nattering on about people, but Emily was aware that she wallowed in their misfortunes. Sally said it was because she was full of resentment after the father of her child had decided not to step up to the task. Emily had thought she was being a bit hard on her, but now she was beginning to think Sally was right too.

  ‘Rum business, this Natasha Jameson thing.’ Fran sighed as she flicked her duster around. ‘I’ve no time for newcomers to the village, especially the sort that flaunt themselves, as you know,’ she continued, getting into her stride. She sounded more like an old fishwife than the forty-year-old woman she was. ‘But I can’t help feeling sorry for her. Who would have thought that Michael Jameson would have turned out to be a wife-beater? He’s always been such a kind, sensitive man. You can’t help wondering what it was she did that drove him to it, can you? Or rather who.’
r />   Noting Fran’s eyes, which were stuffed full of innuendo, gliding in her direction, Emily felt her stomach turn over. She wasn’t sure how much of her argument with Jake people had overheard. She guessed they’d heard raised voices, but she’d hoped they hadn’t gathered what they’d been arguing about. They evidently had.

  Jake emerged from his office, his face taut. He didn’t even glance in her direction as he headed towards the treatment room to confer with Sally, and she felt tears sting the back of her eyes. Their personal problems were out there for public consumption. With Fran beating the drum, the news would be all over the village in no time. Their children would be hurting because of it, and Emily had no idea what to do, how to make their world safe again. How to stop her own world from unravelling around her.

  Twelve

  Dean

  Seeing Zoe manically cleaning the kitchen worktops again as he went in, Dean shook his head in despair. The kitchen wasn’t big enough to swing a cat in; it couldn’t be that dirty. She’d cleaned the entire flat scrupulously over the last week. He supposed it was her way of keeping her mind occupied since losing the baby. He wished there were something he could do to make her feel better. She didn’t seem to want to talk to him about it. That hurt.

  He’d been absolutely gutted when she’d rung him, upset that she hadn’t told him before he’d set off on his road trip that she wasn’t feeling well. He got that she was concerned he might lose his job – the bastard he worked for had made it clear that if he didn’t take the long haulage jobs, he’d find another driver who would – but Dean would rather have told him where to stuff his job than for Zoe to have gone through this on her own.

  What he didn’t get was why Jake hadn’t contacted him. She’d gone to see him at the surgery only days before. Dean understood that patient confidentiality would have prevented him saying too much, but he must have known something was wrong, surely? The last time they’d had a pint together at the pub, Dean had told Jake he had to work away sometimes, that he was worried about leaving Zoe on her own. Knowing that, the bloke could have texted him, couldn’t he? Alerted him to something being amiss, at least. Maybe not. It might not have been obvious there was a problem, he supposed. Still, Jake must have known when she was actually losing the baby, assuming Zoe had rung him before going to the hospital. Dean wanted to ask her about that, but didn’t want her to have to go over it if she found it too painful. The doctor at the hospital had reckoned it was something to do with abnormal chromosomes. They’d also told her it was usually a one-off event and that she would most likely go on to have a normal pregnancy. Dean had been relieved to hear that. He hadn’t carried the baby inside him, but he still felt, weirdly, as if he was grieving.

 

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