Lies Love Tells (Eastcove Lies Book 1)

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Lies Love Tells (Eastcove Lies Book 1) Page 11

by Gina Dickerson


  Mr Him wiped rain off his stubbly head with his hand before it ran into his eyes. ‘Nah, make it later.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Six-thirty-ish.’ He pushed me away from the door and stepped into the corridor.

  ‘What time will you bring her home?’

  ‘Eight. Could be a few minutes before. What’s the problem?’ Mr Him demanded. ‘The time isn’t set in stone, be flexible!’

  ‘You’re already breaking your dictations, sorry, promises.’ I shoved him out of the building and back onto the front steps. ‘I’m not discussing this on the doorstep within earshot of our daughter. If you want to talk, it’ll have to be done over the phone when she’s asleep.’

  Mr Him snorted. ‘You’re bloody obstructive. Why can’t we talk? It’s not like she’s right here. And let me inside.’ He stamped his foot. ‘It’s pissing down.’

  I pointed to his trainer clad feet on the concrete step. ‘That is as far as you’re welcome. If you want to speak, pick up the phone.’

  ‘I’ve every right to come into the flat,’ Mr Him snarled. ‘My name’s on the mortgage.’

  ‘Do you want more of a fight?’ I joined him on the front steps, ignorant of the tumbling rain, and folded my arms across my chest. ‘You, who only paid for the TV subscription? You, who never paid a penny into the mortgage or anything else?’

  ‘You’re always picking on me so I won’t phone. Kelly says you use the kid as an excuse to get at me.’

  ‘The kid? The kid? Don’t call her that. Besides, I don’t need an excuse.’

  Mr Him sniffed. ‘You’re always on the attack making things out to be my fault.’

  ‘Most things are. You didn’t need any of the stuff you took, you just wanted me to suffer. I know all about your little house,’ I said sarcastically. ‘You can afford to buy whatever you want. You don’t need the buy-out money.’

  ‘I’m entitled to it!’ Mr Him raised his voice. ‘The same as I was entitled to the furniture!’

  I smirked. ‘We’ll see. I’ve someone coming to give me a proper valuation. My solicitor can agree with yours the correct amount you’re entitled to.’

  ‘You tight bitch!’

  ‘You didn’t think I’d let you walk all over me, did you?’

  Mr Him pursed his lips. ‘You’ve changed. I don’t know you.’

  I noticed a car pull up next to the pavement. ‘You forced me to change. Anyway, the estate agent is here so I haven’t time to argue. Like I said, your solicitor will hear from mine.’

  ‘I haven’t got a solicitor.’

  ‘I suggest you find one.’

  ‘Fuck you, Saaayze, I didn’t know you had one.’

  I looked him calmly in the eye. ‘I gave you his details. It was the rectangular cardboard thing called a business card.’

  ‘You didn’t.’

  ‘I remember I did because I stopped short of shoving it in your arsehole, sorry that’s not your arse on top of your shoulders is it? Silly me, it’s your head. All the crap which comes out of your mouth confused me.’

  A heavy finger prodded me in the chest. ‘I’m warning you,’ Mr Him hissed. ‘Don’t push me.’ He jabbed me once more before barging past the estate agent.

  ‘Ms Monnivan?’ The estate agent asked nervously.

  ‘Yes. Please pay no attention to him. That’s my greedy ex who wasn’t content with two women and two homes.’

  The estate agent smiled lightly. ‘My husband left me for a colleague and wants me to buy him out of our house so they can live together,’ she confided.

  I showed her inside, recognising an ally when I saw one. ‘Mine wants twenty thousand. He’s living with his mistress in a four bed, detached house up the hill.’

  The estate agent’s eyes danced. ‘How much did you buy for?’

  ‘One hundred and thirty thousand.’

  I followed the estate agent, watching her write notes and measure the rooms with an electronic device.

  ‘I value the property at around one hundred and forty thousand in the current economic climate,’ she said once we returned to the front door.

  I slowly digested the information.

  The estate agent touched my arm before she left. ‘I’ll pop a hard copy of my valuation in the post. Which solicitor are you using?’

  I rummaged in the hallway dresser draw for the solicitor’s card and handed it to her.

  The other woman erupted into laughter. ‘He’s the husband of my husband’s mistress. I’ll drop him a call and let him know to expect the paperwork!’

  Daughter persuaded me to order a cooker, microwave, DVD player, and kitchen table set from the catalogue. We decided on fish and chips again for dinner. I was growing to enjoy my new life. I felt more alive, more like the old me. I missed the intimacy that came with a relationship, even if it was somewhat sporadic, but I didn’t miss Mr Him. Plus, I knew I really must stop thinking about how Mr Dry would look naked.

  Fit. I bet he would look fit. The bastard. He’d still not responded to my text. As if by psychic will the phone beeped.

  Yippee, Mr Dry was NOT ignoring me.

  “Can’t see Daughter tomorrow am going doctor. Got impetigo. Will see her on Wed instead, should be clear by then.”

  I didn’t have the inclination to reply but the phone beeped twice again with more messages from Mr Him.

  “Did u get my message?”

  “U ignorent bitch.”

  I replied, “IgnorAnt NOT ignorent.”

  Mobile phone rang. Did Mr Him not know when to stop?

  I picked it up and slid it open. ‘Fuck Off!’ I spat. By the time I realised it was Mr Dry on the other end, I’d already ended the call.

  Posted: 18:30 3 Sazements

  Orange Michelle: It’s snowing here, not much but the kids are excited. My husband’s taken them to the lake! He accidentally left his phone out last night. There are new numbers for people I’ve never heard of. Should I worry?

  Saze Monnivan: It’s raining here! I’m not a good person to give advice – look how my relationship panned out!

  JessyHope: Hey, come on… wake up! Don’t wait to be shit on, do the shitting. It’s waaaay more fun! BTW has “GeoffBD” disappeared somewhere? He’s not been replying to my emails.

  ***

  Monday, 4th March 2013

  Suction Sniff.

  I felt awful leaving Daughter at school, knowing she was to suffer internal exclusion. If my relationship with Mr Him had not crumbled then this wouldn’t have happened. To top it all off I bet Mr Dry will never, ever speak to me again. Oh, the shame.

  I handed in my notice much to the astonishment of my supervisor. Human Resources told me, due to the rolling temporary post I occupied, I was required to give two weeks’ notice but was owed two weeks of leave; which I could take if I wanted to. Did I ever!

  My mug and coffee tin hardly passed as belongings but I packed them and bid my nearby colleagues farewell. I shot out of the office without a regret and willed the lift to reach my floor quickly.

  ‘Saze?’ A voice called as the lift pinged open.

  I pressed the hold button. ‘Sorry, have to rush. I’m leaving.’ I looked apologetically at Mr Sniff. How difficult was it to carry a tissue? Honestly, a grown man should have the sense not to have a snot infested nose.

  Mr Sniff sniffed. ‘I must be the last one to find out. You didn’t even say goodbye.’

  I shrugged and stepped into the lift. Why was he even bothered? He’d hardly ever spoken to me throughout the whole time I’d worked there, he worked in a totally different office to the one I had been in. ‘Goodbye.’

  Mr Sniff followed me into the lift, the doors snapping shut behind him.

  ‘Which floor?’ I asked. Suddenly Mr Sniff’s face loomed into mine, and he smiled. It was slobbery-dog-disgusting. I shoved him away. ‘What are you doing?’

  Mr Sniff sheepishly peered over the top of his designer glasses. ‘I’ve always liked you and I heard you’re single now so I thought may
be… you know…’

  The lift reached the ground floor. ‘How did you even know I’m single? I haven’t told anyone here.’

  Mr Sniff rubbed at his nose with a finger. ‘My sister told me.’

  ‘How does your sister know? What’s her name?’

  ‘Kelly. She lives in the same building as you.’

  I just stared at him, unable to believe it. ‘Your sister broke up my family and you think you and I could date?’ I asked incredulously.

  Mr Sniff sniffed and shrugged, flinging me a grin.

  I stepped out of the lift and laughed. ‘If we married.’ I pointed at him and then at myself. ‘It would mean the father of my daughter would end up being my brother-in-law.’

  ‘That’s a no then?’ Mr Sniff asked, sniffing again.

  Posted: 10:30 4 Sazements

  SxyGrrl: Surprised you weren’t sick! We’ve got to meet up one day!

  Saze Monnivan: Does the Blomance continue or is it a Nomance?

  SxyGrrl: It’s a Blomance! You’d think G was royalty or something, the amount of people he chatted with while we were out. He’s a true gent.

  Saze Monnivan: I’m jealous. Whoops, I meant I’m pleased!

  ***

  Tuesday, 5th March 2013

  Sick-scape.

  Sickness descended, relinquishing Daughter from another day of internal exclusion. Sparkly new cooker, microwave, DVD player, and fabulous breakfast table set arrived. The cooker was duly installed and I instantly fell in love with its two ovens and high gloss lid.

  15:00

  ‘Mrs Jenner taught her.’ Daughter pointed at the front cover of “Eastcove Local”.

  I took the paper. ‘Jenny? What about the other missing young woman?’

  Daughter shrugged. ‘Callum said the bodies found in the allotments had the hearts ripped out.’

  ‘Is Callum a police officer?’

  ‘His dad works for the council and he said the insides were eaten!’

  ‘What rubbish.’

  ‘He said we shouldn’t go out at night, ‘cos the killer might get us! Can I read the paper? Is there anything about the bodies?’

  I folded the paper in on itself. ‘I think that’s enough talk about that. There’s nothing to worry about.’

  Daughter rolled her eyes. ‘You have to walk around on your own now Dad isn’t here.’

  ‘I always did anyway.’

  ‘But now there’s a killer outside.’

  ‘Not right outside this flat.’

  ‘Well somewhere with those missing girls then,’ muttered Daughter perceptively.

  Posted: 16:16 10 Sazements

  GeoffBD: Are you going to bake me something delish in your new cooker?

  Saze Monnivan: Shall I send you a cake? Email me your address.

  GeoffBD: Will do. I can’t wait to try a cake made by your own hands.

  JessyHope: Hi “GeoffBD”, I have hands and a wrist looking for something a bit special. Like one of those diamond bracelets you’re giving away. In fact I’ve two wrists…

  GeoffBD: Sorry, I’m not “giving” away any variation of jewellery.

  JessyHope: You’re only giving away to “SxyGrrl”. Right I totally get it. If you want to give it to one more person, email me. I like giving away things too *wink, wink*!

  Hey8tr: FFS you’re all putting it out. That old git’s shagging “SxyGrrl” and dying to do “JessyHope”. He’s a pussy perve. He likes flat titted fatties. I bet he’s sitting behind his webcam. Dirty bastard. “Saze Monnivan” – you’re a pathetic excuse for a human being. You’re a fat bitch.

  Saze Monnivan: BLOCKED!

  FlatT: You can’t stop me I’ll always find a way back in. You’d better get used to it, bitch.

  GeoffBD: Boy, watch yourself. How safe do you feel?

  ***

  Lightweight Dry-mate.

  18:00

  Daughter and I argued over what to have for dinner. I was relieved when there was a knock at the door.

  ‘My mother’s afraid I’ll die of starvation. That,’ Mr Nice said, pressing a warm casserole dish into my hands. ‘Is a meal for two.’

  ‘It’s huge!’ I nodded for Mr Nice to follow me into the kitchen.

  Mr Nice scooped two generous portions onto plates for the girls, and Daughter led Sam happily into her bedroom, much relieved to be spared of what she probably considered to be “boring, grown-up talk”.

  ‘I’m an only child,’ Mr Nice explained. ‘My dad died last year. Mum knows I’ve not been eating much lately.’

  I offered him a glass of sparkling wine, which he readily accepted.

  ‘How about popping the casserole in the oven to keep warm?’ Mr Nice asked. ‘We can have wine and… ’ He looked at the stools and table I’d assembled. ‘Try out your smart new stuff.’

  An hour and two glasses of wine later, I rescued the casserole before it dried into a crisp. ‘Yum, this is delish.’ I shovelled a forkful of the meal into my mouth, careful to avoid the brown edge.

  ‘Mum makes the best casseroles.’

  ‘Kelly’s not much of a chef?’ I couldn’t help but ask. I poured us both a third, generous, glassful of fizz.

  Mr Nice supped his drink and grinned. ‘She has other qualities.’

  I sipped my drink. I didn’t want to hear but part of me was perversely intrigued.

  ‘She has this amazing trick of locking her ankles,’ slurred Mr Nice. ‘Up behind her head.’ He pushed his glasses on top of his head forcing his mousy-brown hair to splay outwards.

  He embarked on a tirade of memories, riding a ship of wistful, sexual dreams I did not own, nor wish, a boarding pass for. Upon his fourth rendition of Kelly’s limber skills, I’d emptied the second bottle of sparkling wine and was at the end of something, possibly the loss of my mind, all senility or at the very least, my alcohol stock, when the intercom buzzed.

  ‘Excuse me,’ I feigned reluctance.

  Mr Nice-but-Lightweight shrugged. ‘Shall I open another bottle?’

  ‘Last one’s in the fridge.’ I instructed before hurrying to the hall. I pressed the buzzer absentmindedly and opened the flat door.

  The cold night air swept in with the visitor, who wasn’t wearing a coat despite the winter chill.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ I demanded.

  ‘Sorry I didn’t come round earlier than this, I’ve been busy.’

  ‘Everything okay?’ Mr Nice swung into the hallway, two full glasses in his hands. He waved one at me. ‘I’ve plenty more stories to tell you… oh, who’s this?’

  I accepted the proffered glass from Mr Nice and tugged in Mr Dry. Even touching the sleeve of his jumper, frissons of electricity prickled my fingertips. I introduced the two men to each other and Mr Dry eyeballed Mr Nice from top to toe.

  ‘I was telling Saze how Kelly, my wife, used to surprise me every Wednesday with a sexy outfit. Maybe that’s why Saze’s fella left.’ Mr Nice hiccupped then guzzled his wine straight down and headed into the kitchen.

  A dark look crossed Mr Dry’s face. I shook my head at him and hurried to the kitchen where Mr Nice was topping up his drink.

  ‘You were saying?’ Mr Dry folded his arms across his broad chest, the action squaring his shoulders more than usual.

  Mr Nice, oblivious to the atmosphere, swallowed more wine. ‘Kelly’s so imaginative. She’ll buy a kinky outfit and splay herself over the bed, no probs.’ He burped. ‘If she were here now, she’d be up on the side pouring this wine all over herself for me to lick. I bet she’s doing all that now without me. She’s just so damn hot!’

  ‘I think you’ve had enough,’ Mr Dry interrupted sharply.

  ‘Eh?’ Mr Nice swayed forward.

  Mr Dry drew himself to his full height.

  ‘It’s okay.’ I swiftly stepped in. ‘Sam will be tired, why doesn’t she stop here tonight?’ I asked Mr Nice. ‘You could do with a break. Go home and relax.’

  Mr Nice winked suggestively. ‘I’ll leave you two alone.’ He lurched out
of the kitchen and called Sam for a goodnight kiss.

  I steadied Mr Nice and instructed Daughter and Sam to prepare for bed, ignoring their giggling as they watched from Daughter’s bedroom doorway.

  ‘Go back into your room,’ I told Daughter firmly. With some reluctance, and a burst of more giggles, she did, taking Sam with her.

  Mr Nice leant heavily on my arm as I showed him to the front door.

  ‘You’ve been a real brick. You know what?’ he asked.

  ‘What?’ I replied indulgently.

  Mr Nice grinned. ‘Do you want—’

  ‘She doesn’t want anything,’ interrupted Mr Dry, again. ‘Do you need help home?’

  Mr Nice hiccupped. ‘I only live over the hall.’ He scratched his head.

  ‘Good.’ Mr Dry firmly pushed Mr Nice into the hallway and closed the door. ‘Wanker,’ he muttered under his breath.

  ‘Don’t be mean. He’s nice but can’t handle his drink. He’ll be embarrassed in the morning!’

  ‘He’s a tosser.’

  ‘Shush,’ I instructed.

  Mr Dry hooked his hand under my elbow. ‘You’re too forgiving.’

  ‘Not really. Why did you ignore my text?’ I pulled my elbow from his grip.

  He rubbed his eyes. ‘I was at the hospital.’

  Hesitantly, I reached out for him. For a moment he felt stiff in my embrace.

  ‘I didn’t know you cared,’ he said gruffly.

  I tipped my head up. ‘Are you okay? I hope it wasn’t anything serious.’

  Light twinkled in Mr Dry’s eyes. ‘I am okay now.’ His lips were soft and warm as they covered mine.

  ‘Would you like to stay?’ I asked boldly.

  ‘Not a good idea.’

  Shame tightened my throat. He didn’t want me!

  ‘You have the girls,’ he reminded me. ‘Another time.’

  Posted: 20:45 2 Sazements

  SxyGrrl: I thought he was going to be your rebound guy! Off out with G again! Hope I’m not rushing into this relationship too fast! *waves*

 

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