Trust Me: An absolutely gripping and unputdownable psychological thriller

by Sheryl Browne

  ‘Looks like it.’ Jake sighed tiredly. ‘The CCTV out back was smashed. The security firm have supplied an urgent replacement, but—’

  ‘When?’ Millie cut in. ‘I mean, when were you broken into?’

  ‘A couple of nights back. Other occasions before then. I’m not sure—’

  ‘What did they take?’ Again Millie interrupted him.

  ‘Drugs.’ Jake guessed it wouldn’t hurt to tell her. ‘Why else break into a doctor’s surgery?’

  ‘Shit,’ Millie responded after a second, sounding shocked. ‘Are you going to the police?’

  ‘Not yet,’ Jake said. He couldn’t tell her why he wasn’t; that he wanted to be sure he wasn’t implicating her mother. There was no way Emily would be up to answering questions from the police right now, and there were bound to be some. ‘I’ll have to eventually, but I’m hoping the new camera will pick something up.’

  ‘Is there no chance of retrieving anything from the old one?’ Millie asked.

  ‘I’m not sure. The security firm’s taking a look. They’re getting back to me, but I’m not holding my breath. I thought maybe I’d get lucky if I stayed on the premises.’

  ‘Right.’ Millie now sounded uncertain. ‘You’ll be careful, though?’

  ‘I will,’ he assured her. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll get straight on to the police if anything happens.’

  ‘Okay,’ Millie replied hesitantly. ‘Sorry, Dad, I have to go. I have another call.’

  The boyfriend, Jake guessed. ‘Talk soon,’ he said softly. ‘Watch what you’re doing, Mils. You know I …’ He realised she’d already gone. More pressing things to attend to, obviously. He only hoped she knew how much he cared about her. That he would give anything to undo all of this, if only he knew how to.

  Deliberating for a second, he took a breath and then called Sally. She’d been worried about Emily’s reaction to her news. Upset that she’d walked away, apparently refusing to say another word. He wasn’t sure what reception he would get, given the situation, but he wanted to at least check on her.

  ‘Hi,’ he said, relieved when she picked up. ‘I just wondered how you were doing?’

  ‘Okay, considering …’ Sally answered. Jake gathered from her evasive tone that she was reluctant to discuss things further. ‘How’s Emily?’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ he told her honestly. ‘I’m still at the surgery.’

  Sally didn’t reply for a second, then, ‘We should have told her about us, Jake,’ she said.

  Thirty-Four

  The night of the party

  Leaving him to ponder the consequences of what he’d done, she strode away from his car with as much dignity as she could manage, which wasn’t a lot. She heard him trying to start it behind her, futilely. No doubt he would be pissed off about that. Good. He’d treated her like some cheap tart, stringing her along. Choking back a sob, she trudged through the sludge, the monsoon-like rain plastering her hair to her head and soaking through her biker jacket right down to her bones. She’d given him everything, risked everything for him. She’d thought he felt the same – he’d said sex with her was the most mind-blowing he’d ever had in his life. He’d obviously been lying about that as well. She should have thought to tell him it hadn’t been that great for her. That might have hit him where it hurt. God, she’d been such an idiot.

  He’d said he loved her. Gulping back her hurt and humiliation, she pushed on, tears stinging her eyes and careless of her expensive leather boots, which would undoubtedly be ruined. Sensing his interest might be waning, she’d worn them with her new faux-leather skirt to get his attention. He hadn’t complimented her as he usually would, his eyes on her thighs and sex on his mind. He’d hardly even glanced at her.

  He’d said he was riddled with guilt, feeling bad about using her when he couldn’t be fully committed. Such a liar. He didn’t care about anyone. Bastard. And now, no doubt, he would be looking for some other naïve young thing to reel in with his flattery, his easy smile and twinkly blue eyes. Lying eyes. She’d thought she’d seen his love for her there; warmth and affection, which she’d badly needed. She’d been wrong. They were as cold as ice.

  A chill running through her, she wrapped her arms about herself, tucked her hands under her armpits and hurried on. After a moment, she stopped, sure she could hear footsteps behind her. His, obviously. He was clearly struggling with his conscience. Well, he knew what he could do, didn’t he? Huffing out a steamy breath, she quickened her pace, then faltered, again, certain she’d heard branches snapping in the woodland beside her. Animals, probably, she tried to reassure herself. Foraging nightlife. Shit. What kind of nightlife?

  Her bladder full to bursting suddenly, she tightened her arms around herself and took another few steps. Then she stopped again, swallowing back her racing heart as something screamed in the woods, loud and shrill, like a banshee. Standing stock still, she listened. Hearing nothing now but the sound of the rain plopping through the leaves, she laughed in despair at herself. It was obviously a fox. What had she been thinking, climbing out of his car in an area she knew to be one of the remotest places possible? The alternative, though, would have been to stay in the car with him. She would rather drown. Steeling her resolve, she forged determinedly onwards.

  A short while later, she hesitated again, positive now that she could hear footfalls echoing her own. There was someone there, she was sure of it. Her antennae on red alert, she dared a glance over her shoulder. Seeing nothing but the dark shadows of overhanging branches, she took another few tentative steps. Her stomach lurched violently as another sound reached her – not the roar of an animal this time, but the rev of an engine, growling full throttle.

  Shit. Her heart thrashing, she surged forward, the soles of her boots slipping and sliding beneath her. She heard the impact, dull, sickening. Felt white-hot pain jarring every bone in her body as she was tossed in the air to land heavily on the unforgiving tarmac. Seconds later, her heartbeat slowed, a slow pulse at the base of her neck, as a warm breath brushed her cheek. ‘Sorry, but I couldn’t let you tell,’ whispered a voice tinged with regret.

  Swallowing back the salty, metallic taste in her mouth, she was vaguely aware of who it was. Strangely, she didn’t feel pain any more, didn’t feel anything other than that the lifeblood that flowered slowly beneath her was pleasantly warm. Blinking away the droplets of rain that ran like saltless tears down her cheeks, she stared up at the tiny pinpricks of light that held a promise of another life.

  He’d never loved her, she realised as the ink blue of the sky faded to a blanket of black. He’d never intended to be with her.

  Thirty-Five

  Emily

  As Emily came away from the makeshift bar in the village hall, Joyce hurried across to her and caught hold of her hands. ‘Thank you,’ she said, nodding across to Edward, who was doing his thing on the dance floor, along with several of their neighbours, to the Liverpool Lads’ version of ‘Twist and Shout’. ‘You’ve done him proud. The band is tip-top. You’d almost swear it was the Fab Four themselves.’

  Emily smiled, pleased that Joyce and Edward were happy, though she herself was struggling to relax. She was aware that part of this might be due to withdrawal symptoms. She’d gone from feeling flat this morning, lacking in energy, to feeling jumpy and anxious. Not least because Jake was here. She hadn’t been sure he would come, having spent several nights in the surgery, bar one, when he’d slept in the spare room, at her suggestion. She’d said it was because her sleep patterns were worse than ever. She hadn’t told him the other reason: that if he received a call-out in the middle of the night, her suspicion would have gone into overdrive, inciting more arguments between them. She didn’t think she could bear that.

  She looked across now to where he stood with one of his patients, who was no doubt trying to pick his brains about some illness or other. Jake was listening attentively, nodding politely, still as handsome as ever in a simple white polo shirt and jeans. Still the man she’d
fallen in love with – on the outside, anyway. Her heart, which had been sinking steadily since discovering the email, settled like a cold stone in her chest as she acknowledged that she’d obviously never really known him as well as she’d thought she had. Was it poetic justice, she wondered; her just deserts for keeping secrets from him?

  Joyce was still talking, she realised; she hoped the woman hadn’t noticed that her mind had drifted off. ‘They even look like them,’ she was saying, her gaze on the band.

  Emily resisted pointing out that the mop-top wigs and collarless grey suits possibly helped. ‘Sally organised them,’ she said, leaning close to Joyce’s ear. She couldn’t take credit where it wasn’t due. They wouldn’t have had a band if not for Sally. Tears welling up out of nowhere, Emily bit them back. She missed her. She’d lost her two best friends overnight, it seemed.

  ‘Oh, well I must go and thank her too,’ Joyce said, glancing around. ‘Is she not here yet?’

  Emily shook her head. ‘She’s been a bit poorly.’ She actually had no idea how Sally was. She hadn’t heard a word from her. And she could hardly ring her or ask Jake.

  ‘I’d better go and rein in my husband before he does himself an injury.’ Joyce rolled her eyes tolerantly. ‘You might want to rescue yours too, before he dies of boredom.’ She indicated Jake, who was doing his best to look interested as his patient pointed out various parts of his anatomy, obviously listing his aches and pains.

  Nodding weakly, Emily watched Joyce head for the dance floor, a little twist of her hips in evidence as she did. Emily smiled. At least she’d managed something successfully, even if she had failed at everything else in her life. She was feeling sorry for herself but couldn’t help it. She also felt like a spare part at a wedding, standing on her own. She glanced around, wondering who she could talk to; someone who wouldn’t look at her with suspicion, trying to work out if she was vicious enough to send out the poison pen letters that had been circulating. Apart from Sally and the couples whose lives had been torn apart by the letters, most of the villagers were here. Some were searching for a sense of solidarity, which had been Emily’s aim once it was growing obvious the village community was becoming fractured. Some of them possibly wanted to catch up on the latest gossip. Fran was here, her eyes seeming to be attached to Tom on strings as they followed his every move. She was drinking a lot. Emily noted her going to the bar for the third time since she’d arrived. The woman’s expression was peeved as she all but glared at Tom, who was deep in conversation with the barmaid from the pub. Emily now knew why Fran might be disenchanted with him, and almost felt sorry for her. Unrequited love was painful. She couldn’t imagine a time when the love she still had for Jake despite everything wouldn’t cause her to hurt unbearably.

  Could she risk a small glass of wine herself? she wondered, glancing after Fran and meeting Jake’s gaze as she did. He nodded and smiled uncertainly. Emily managed a small smile back, watching as he attempted to extricate himself from his patient, who was now rolling up his trouser leg, clearly about to show Jake his painful bits. Jake’s expression was one of bemusement as he glanced down at the pale limb the man offered him. Emily might have laughed but for the constriction in her throat.

  Minutes later, as the band went off for their break, he walked towards her. ‘Hi,’ he said apprehensively.

  ‘Evening,’ Emily replied, saddened by the obvious awkwardness between them.

  ‘Okay?’ he asked her softly, his expression concerned as he searched her face. She looked into his blue eyes, the brown and green flecks making them a myriad of ocean colours: light and sparkling when he was happy, darker when he was troubled, as Emily could see he was now. Hidden depths, she thought distractedly.

  Nodding, she glanced down. ‘Coping,’ she said. ‘You?’

  ‘Reasonable,’ he answered, kneading his neck, a sure sign he was stressed. She would have helped him free the knot in it once, just a short time ago. How had they suddenly become strangers, standing here in front of each other on opposite sides of some invisible fence?

  ‘Is Millie not with you?’ he asked.

  Emily shook her head. ‘She’s at Anna’s. I don’t think this is her thing.’

  ‘As in actually at Anna’s?’ Jake’s eyes were definitely a shade darker. He was finally admitting she wasn’t wrong about that at least then; that they might have cause to be worried about their daughter.

  ‘I dropped her off there earlier. I’ve given her money for a taxi home,’ Emily assured him. This wasn’t the place to go into family business.

  Jake nodded, clearly relieved.

  ‘Did Ben get off all right?’ she asked, knowing that their son had been reluctant to ask his father for the use of his car. His was off the road, but as she’d had to use her car today to pick up Edward and Joyce and bring them to the village hall, he had realised he didn’t have much choice. He’d had to visibly to steel himself to talk to Jake on the phone. Emily had been immensely relieved that he had, and that Jake had agreed he could take his car. Ben was going to a party. He had a date, he’d told her. Emily’s relief had been immense. She prayed it would lead to something; that Ben might have found himself a girl his own age and would forget all about his crush on Natasha.

  ‘He did.’ Jake’s mouth curved into a small smile. ‘I’m glad he asked. At least I was able to do one small thing other than mess up his life. Yours too.’

  Emily widened her eyes in surprise. Was he finally going to admit that what was happening between them wasn’t all in her mind?

  ‘DS Regan called this morning,’ Jake went on, his expression wary. ‘They found the email. On the company server.’

  She stared at him in disbelief for a second, then closed her eyes. ‘Not a product of my fevered imagination then?’

  ‘No.’ He drew in a breath. ‘I owe you an apology, Emily. I doubted you. I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.’

  Swallowing, she nodded slowly. It was something. It couldn’t take back all he’d said, but at least he wasn’t looking at her as if he didn’t know who she was. ‘Did they manage to trace the email address?’

  He shook his head. ‘They’re working on it.’

  Nodding, Emily paused, checking that they weren’t being overheard, then lowered her voice. ‘The letters … did they mention whether they’d made any headway?’ Nicky had told her they hadn’t been able to find any forensic evidence, but she’d hoped …

  ‘Nothing,’ Jake said, sighing heavily. ‘Whoever sent them was obviously wearing gloves, making sure to—’ He stopped, emitting a weary sigh as his father joined them.

  ‘Well done, Emily. You’ve done an amazing job with the hall,’ Tom said, indicating the bunting and birthday balloons Emily had roped the landlord of the pub into helping her string up. ‘Ed and Joyce are tickled pink. It was a lovely thing to …’ He trailed off as Nicky hurried towards them – with a young man in tow, Emily noted.

  ‘I took your advice, Tom.’ She stretched to plant a kiss on Tom’s cheek, to Emily and Jake’s surprise. ‘Meet Drew, my new boyfriend.’

  Tom turned to the young man. ‘Nice to meet you, Drew,’ he said, looking him over critically as he shook his hand. ‘I hope he knows you have high standards, Nicky?’

  ‘I do.’ Drew smiled, as Tom arched an enquiring eyebrow at him. ‘I think I’m actually on trial at the moment.’

  ‘Good.’ Tom nodded approvingly. ‘Make sure you treat her with respect.’

  ‘He will,’ Nicky assured him. ‘I’ve told him he’ll have you to answer to if he doesn’t. Back in a second, Emily. We’re just off to get a drink.’ Beaming them all a smile, and looking very pleased with herself, she dragged Drew towards the bar, while Emily and Jake exchanged glances.

  Tom clearly noticed. ‘She’d been stood up – at the pub in Pembridge where I happened to be with some of the members of the medical committee,’ he explained. ‘I couldn’t help but notice her sitting on her own looking upset. Obviously I made my excuses to my colleagues and went ov
er to her. We had a long chat.’ He paused, now looking pointedly at Jake. ‘The man in question texted her as we were talking, gave her some lame excuse about having to give a mate a lift somewhere. I told her to dump him. It seems she—’

  He was cut short by Nicky, who reappeared to grab hold of his hand. ‘They’re playing “Love Me Do”,’ she said enthusiastically, as the band, back from their break, struck up again. ‘Drew has a rugby injury, so I’m in need of a man.’

  ‘Another one?’ Tom chuckled, allowing himself to be tugged towards the dance floor while Emily and Jake looked on, bemused.

  ‘Jesus.’ Jake did a double-take as Tom got into his stride with a slow jive. ‘Looks like I might owe him an apology too,’ he said, looking awkwardly back at Emily.

  ‘It certainly seems so,’ Emily agreed, her gaze travelling from the dancing couple to Fran, who was coming back from the loo. She looked unsteady on her feet and was now glaring daggers at Tom, Emily noticed, with some trepidation. She hoped she wasn’t going to cause a scene and spoil the party for Ed.

  Oh no. Her heart sank as Fran stumbled towards the dance floor, reached out a hand to steady herself and knocked a drink from a table. All credit to them, the band didn’t miss a beat as the glass smashed noisily, sending slivers of glass shooting across the wooden floor.

  Emily watched nervously as Phil, who ran the farm shop, stood up to try and help. Fran shrugged him off, her eyes narrowed to slits and plainly fuming as she took another precarious step.

  ‘You bastard!’ she shouted suddenly, causing Emily’s heart to flip in her chest. ‘You just can’t resist, can you?’ she snarled, as the band twanged to a discordant stop. ‘Chatting up every little slut in a skirt, making a bloody fool of yourself.’

  Jake stepped towards her, taking hold of her arm. ‘Come on, Fran,’ he said, sympathetically but firmly. ‘You’re obviously upset. You’ve had too much to—’