by Lisa Hall
Rupert strains his ears, and thinks maybe, maybe, he hears the tiniest of knocking sounds. ‘It’s nothing, Em. Come on, you’re just feeling jumpy because you thought you saw someone outside the house the other night. There was nothing then, and there’s nothing now.’
As soon as the words leave his lips there is a sharp bang, as if someone has slapped their hand against the bedroom door, and Emily lets out a little shriek, her hands flying to her mouth.
‘Please, Rupert, will you just go and look?’ Emily turns to him, her face pleading. ‘That was definitely someone outside our bedroom door. I feel weird enough staying here tonight; I’ll never sleep if I think someone is spying on us.’ Caro’s name hangs unspoken in the air between them.
Rupert sighs, although his heart is racing. ‘OK. If it’ll make you feel better. It’s probably just someone staggering to their room – you saw how drunk everyone was. I won’t be a minute.’ Emily gives him a roguish grin, and he pulls his shirt back on and heads downstairs.
I wait for fifteen minutes or so, the sheets artfully arranged around my naked body so that my shoulders and chest are bare. I fidget, running my fingers through my hair, giving it that sexy, tousled look that Rupert loves and glance impatiently at the bedside clock. How long does it take to check if there’s anyone outside? The champagne is wearing off now, leaving me with the thick thud of a headache beginning at my temples, and I am starting to get cold, goosebumps rising on my arms as I wait for Rupert. I wait another five minutes before I tug the sheets away and pull on Rupert’s discarded sweater and slip my knickers back on. Rupert will surely be on his way back and I’ll bump into him on the landing, and then we’ll slide back into the warmth of the bed. Grinning to myself at the thought, I let myself admire my ring one more time before I open the door and peep out. Part of me is still jumpy, and I half expect a face to loom out of the darkness… but there’s nothing. Not even any sign of Rupert.
Maybe he’s gone to get some water? My temples throb in sympathy and I decide that I’ll go down and get some anyway. Rupert can’t have gone far. I creep silently down the stairs, not wanting to wake anyone, a reassuring yellow glow of light spilling from the entrance to the kitchen. As I get to the bottom stair, I pause, unable to comprehend what I’m seeing at first. I was right, Rupert did go to the kitchen, but he’s not alone. Sadie sits on the high bar stool in front of him, her head resting against his chest, as his arms go around her shoulders and she clasps him about the waist. Rupert is murmuring something, and she raises her head to look at him, pulling away.
I watch, hardly daring to breathe, my ears straining to pick up what they might be saying but I can’t hear anything, just the low mumble of their voices. Rupert takes her hands in his now, holding them tightly as she says something and he nods, leaning down to kiss her on the cheek. It feels intimate, private, and I turn and quietly hurry back up the stairs to the safety of the bedroom, sliding back into bed and tugging the sheets up around my neck. A few minutes later, I hear the door open, and Rupert’s light breaths as he gets into bed beside me. I can feel him leaning over me, so I regulate my breathing as if I have fallen deeply asleep and he pauses for a second, before dropping a light kiss on my hair and rolling over. I lay there, my mind replaying the two of them together, until fingers of light filter through the blinds and finally, I fall asleep.
Emily stirs, and Rupert smiles as he watches her go from dozy to full wakefulness, slowly, like she’s making the most of the morning sunlight that slants across the room.
‘Morning, sleepyhead.’ Rupert has been awake for what feels like hours, waiting for Emily to wake up.
‘Ouch.’ She struggles into a sitting position, one hand clutching her head. ‘Champagne head. Sorry for falling asleep on you last night.’
Rupert laughs and kisses her, not wanting to talk about it. He had been a little relieved when he got back to the room and Emily had been fast asleep in bed – his brief conversation with Sadie had left him feeling unsettled. But a good night’s sleep and waking up to Emily’s smile has just made him even more convinced he’s doing the right thing. Emily is definitely the one.
‘Coffee?’ Emily says, as she wriggles away from him and pushes back the covers. Her face is pale, and Rupert thinks she looks tired. ‘And I should probably text Mags and apologize for not letting her know I wouldn’t be home last night. She’ll be annoyed with me again, I expect.’ She swings her legs out of bed and rummages amongst the pile of clothes left on the bedroom floor. ‘Have you seen my phone? I thought… no, it’s not here.’ Emily frowns, her crumpled dress in one hand.
‘Maybe you left it downstairs?’ Rupert gets out of bed, pulling on his jeans and yesterday’s shirt. ‘I’ll come down with you.’
They head downstairs, Emily making it clear she feels out of place dressed in last night’s clothes. The others are already in the kitchen when they make their appearance, Sadie and Amanda knocking up pancakes while Miles and Will sit at the kitchen island, not helping.
‘Morning, you two lovebirds,’ Sadie says, a smile on her face. ‘Pancakes? Coffee?’
‘Lovely, thank you.’ Emily slides onto a stool as Rupert helps himself to two cups of coffee, pushing one in front of his fiancée. Emily wraps her fingers around the cup and takes a sip, before grimacing and adding sugar.
‘Emily, do you want to borrow something to wear?’ Amanda says, looking her up and down. ‘I keep a few bits here for nights like last night – I think we’re about the same size? Caro used to borrow my stuff all the time.’
Rupert feels his stomach flip at the use of Caro’s name, watching Emily for signs that she is upset, although it’s a little unreasonable for her to expect his friends to never mention Caro by name ever again, but Emily nods and smiles, jumping down off the stool and following Amanda to the second spare room. Rupert feels himself relax a little, taking a sip of coffee.
‘Hangover?’ Will asks, a huge stack of pancakes in front of him. ‘I feel as rough as a badger’s arse.’
‘I’m not too bad,’ Rupert says, reaching over and pinching a piece of pancake doused in syrup.
‘It’ll be young Emily, keeping you up all night, getting the booze out of your system,’ Miles scoffs, and Rupert avoids Sadie’s eye as his neck prickles uncomfortably. ‘What are your plans for today?’
‘I should imagine you’ll be visiting Emily’s parents, won’t you?’ Sadie asks, wiping her hands on the apron she wears before whipping it over her head and smoothing her short bob back into place. ‘She’ll want to break the news to them, won’t she? And of course, you’ll want to let your parents know.’
Rupert says nothing for a moment. ‘I think we’ll just take the day to keep it to ourselves, for now. Get used to the idea, you know?’ He doesn’t want to admit to Sadie that he hasn’t met Emily’s parents yet – that she barely talks about them, if he’s honest. ‘Has anyone seen Emily’s phone, by the way? She couldn’t find it in the bedroom this morning.’
‘Here. Is this it?’ Sadie hands him an iPhone, and when he presses the side button his own face appears on the lock screen, smashed against Emily’s in a selfie they took on a day trip to Stonehenge a couple of weeks after they started dating.
‘Thanks.’ Emily reaches over his shoulder and takes it, kissing his cheek and making him jump. ‘Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. Amanda lent me a dress.’ Rupert turns and she gives a little twirl. ‘I’ll launder it and give it back,’ she says to Amanda, who flaps a hand in her direction. ‘I better just call Mags and let her know I’m still alive.’ She flits out of the room, leaving Rupert to his breakfast.
Later, Emily is quiet on the drive home, and Rupert wonders if she still feels a bit rough, or whether she might be regretting saying yes.
‘Are you OK?’ He takes one hand off the steering wheel to rub her knee, as she gazes silently out of the window.
‘Did you see anyone last night after I asked you to check if someone was outside our room?’ she asks.
�
��No,’ he says, ‘there wasn’t anyone outside, and no one on the stairs either. I’m sorry, I should have told you that first thing this morning.’
‘You didn’t see anyone at all?’
‘No. I just told you that. Emily, is there a problem?’ Rupert feels a little irritated. If there is something wrong he’d rather Emily just came out with it, not beat around the bush. Caro used to do the same thing and it drove him mad. The traffic slows and crawls to a stop, typical M25 gridlock, even on a Sunday morning.
‘Not even Sadie?’ Emily’s mouth is turned down and she fiddles with the phone in her hands.
‘Sadie?’
‘Yes, Sadie.’ Emily turns to look at him, her eyes searching his face and Rupert feels a flicker of alarm, even though he knows he hasn’t done anything wrong. ‘She was our host after all; it stands to reason that she might still be up after we’d all gone to bed.’
‘Nope.’ He lies smoothly, edging the car forward as the traffic starts to move. ‘I didn’t see anyone at all. I told you there was no one there.’
Chapter Nine
I haven’t been able to stop looking at the ring on my left hand since Rupert slid it onto my finger at Sadie’s party. Of course, I am happy – who wouldn’t be? – but a little part of me, every time I look at it, sees Rupert and Sadie standing close together in the kitchen, holding hands, as I strain my ears and try but fail to hear what they are saying, before hearing Rupert’s voice in my mind saying, ‘No, I didn’t see anyone.’ The whole idea of it makes me feel odd, even though I know they have over twenty years of shared history, while Rupert and I have only been together for a few months. I don’t feel able to challenge Rupert on it. He lied, but it is only a white lie, and maybe he said it just to make me feel better? Perhaps Sadie was upset over Caro – she had had a lot to drink, and she did look as though she might have been crying. Maybe. I couldn’t see too well. Rupert has been nothing but his usual attentive self since the party, and I don’t want to cause a row with him over something that I may simply have read too much into. It wouldn’t be the first time. The first time I asked Harry about his ex-wife, it had ended with me sitting in the dark, alone, nursing my hand where Harry had slammed the door on it. Not that Rupert would behave like that, but it makes a girl wary.
Speaking of causing rows, I twist the ring around on my finger, hiding the small diamond out of sight as I push open the door to the vegan restaurant that Mags has been so keen to try. I was half hoping she would be busy when I texted her to see if she was free for the lunch I had promised her, but she messaged back with an enthusiastic ‘YES’ within seconds of me sending it.
‘Hello, stranger.’ Mags stands from a table in the corner, holding her arms outstretched. I walk into them, breathing in her familiar scent of weed and patchouli. She’s lost weight, her orange hair now dyed bright blue at the tips. I haven’t been back to the flat properly for weeks.
‘Mags.’ I let her squeeze me tight for a moment before gently pushing her away and taking a seat at the table.
‘I thought you were never coming home.’ She smiles, but her voice is laced with an accusatory tone.
‘Sorry… I just… I was staying at Rupert’s.’ I duck my head, letting my hair fall over my face as a blush scorches my cheeks, and I pick up a menu, pretending to read it. I know I’ve neglected Mags, been a terrible friend, but I’ve just been so caught up in the excitement of a new relationship, in the idea of no longer being on my own.
‘Yeah, I gathered that, you dirty stop-out,’ Mags snorts, deftly rolling a joint and spilling flakes of tobacco over the table. ‘So, things are going well then?’ Her voice softens and I think that perhaps she isn’t going to give me a hard time over abandoning her after all.
‘Really, really well.’ I paste on a smile. Things are going well, I tell myself, trying not to think of the shadows over my shoulder. I shove the image of Rupert and Sadie stood close together to the back of my mind.
‘Right, well, that’s good then,’ Mags pauses for a moment. ‘It’s been quiet without you. A bit boring, actually. I always thought you were just a pain in the arse, but it turns out it’s quite shit living on your own.’ She gives a sharp huff of laughter, and blinks rapidly before she picks up the menu, picking at the peeling laminate on the corner.
I say nothing, trying to choose my words carefully. Anxiety makes my stomach clench at what I have to tell her, at how she will react to my news. ‘Actually, I have something to tell you.’
‘Oh?’ She drops the menu now and fixes her gaze on me. ‘What? Although I think I already have a good idea.’
‘You do?’ I don’t know whether to feel relieved or not.
‘You’re going to move in with him, aren’t you?’
‘Well… seeing as he asked me to marry him and I said yes, then that does seem to be the next logical step.’ I try and fail to stop the smile from spreading across my face, but it soon fades when Mags opens her mouth to speak.
‘Are you fucking kidding me?’
‘Mags…’
‘No, seriously, Emily, is this a fucking joke?’ A harsh bark of laughter escapes her lips, as she folds her arms across her chest.
‘No, it’s not a fucking joke.’ A hot bubble of anger bursts in my chest. ‘Really, Mags? This is how you’re going to react? Believe it or not, I am happy to be engaged to Rupert, and I thought you of all people would be pleased that I’m moving on with my life after Harry.’
‘Harry is exactly my point!’ Mags bursts out. ‘Have you forgotten everything I’ve done for you?’
Really? ‘Is that what this is about?’ I blink in shock at Mags’s reaction. ‘What you’ve done for me?’ Wearing my clothes without asking? Buying the same food as me, reading the same books as me, telling me I have no messages when people have called the house, standing at the end of my bed in the middle of the night?
‘I took care of you after you and Harry split up.’ Mags almost spits the words across the table at me. ‘You were a mess when you turned up on my doorstep, so convinced that Harry was going to kill you, you made me keep the chain on the door twenty-four/seven. You were covered in bruises; you had nothing – you didn’t even have a suitcase. You didn’t step foot outside the flat for the first two weeks – who was it who bought you food? Took care of you?’
‘Jesus, Mags.’ I shake my head, ready to get up and leave. I know she doesn’t want me to leave but this is a massive overreaction. ‘I am grateful to you, you know that. I’ve told you enough times. You’ve been a good friend to me, and of course I’m sad to be leaving the flat. It’s been my home, too; we’ve had some good times there. Just because I’m moving out doesn’t mean we don’t have to see each other anymore… but if this is how you feel maybe I should just go and collect the rest of my things.’ I push my chair back, but Mags shoots out a hand and grabs my wrist. I stare down at her hand, her pale, freckled skin, the dirty fingernails and say nothing.
‘I saw him,’ she whispers, her eyes never leaving mine.
My stomach does a slow roll and I have to swallow hard, as I sink back in to the hard, plastic chair. No soft leather chairs for the vegans. ‘Who?’ But I know who she’s going to say.
‘Harry,’ she says, still leaning in close to me, so close that I can feel her breath on my cheek. ‘I saw him.’
‘When? Where?’ A flutter of panic makes my words tumble out. I can’t believe he would have found me; I’ve been so careful. I think of the figure under the streetlamp outside Rupert’s. Could it have been him?
‘He was in The Savoy.’ Mags’s favourite pub. ‘It was not long after you started working for Rupert. I knew it was him from the pictures on your phone.’
‘Did you speak to him?’ I feel hot, uncomfortably so, and it’s as if all the air has been sucked out of the room.
‘No. But he sort of raised his pint to me, you know?’ Mags makes the motion with her hand. ‘So, I got the feeling he knew who I was, at least. I would have told you if you’d bothered to come home
.’
The nausea is getting worse and I have to get outside, get some fresh air before I think I really will throw up. ‘Mags, I have to go. I’m sorry.’
‘What? Why? Because of him? This was supposed to our time. Please, Em, don’t go.’ Mags gets to her feet, but I am already moving towards the restaurant door. ‘At least let me give you your mail before you run off.’ She reaches into her bag and pulls out a small sheaf of envelopes, stuffing them into my bag. ‘I can look after you, Em, you know that. I’m your best friend. Aren’t you worried that if he knows who I am he might have followed me to the flat? He might have followed you from the flat to Rupert’s, did you think about that?’
I stare at her, not sure what to say. ‘Shit. Do you think…? Oh, God.’ The image of the figure stood under the streetlamp outside Rupert’s house looms large in my mind and I scrub my hands over my face. I need to get out, to suck down great lungfuls of fresh, cold air. ‘Sorry, Mags, I do have to go. Thank you for telling me about Harry – you did the right thing. Just… if you see him again, don’t talk to him, don’t engage with him at all. OK? Promise me.’ Impulsively I lean forward and kiss her on her cheek before I hurry away.
Later that afternoon, I sip at the champagne Sadie hands to me as we sit in Veronica’s Bridal Boutique – an upmarket bridal outfit that I would have no chance of patronising if it wasn’t for Sadie’s influence. She and Amanda have dragged me out to help me choose a dress, even though after my meeting with Mags I tried to cry off; dress shopping was the last thing I felt like doing. I could have told them I would be happy with something from the Next bridal range, but I would have been lying. In all honesty, up until I met Mags earlier, I was excited to be able to choose literally any dress I want – and relieved that Sadie and Amanda seem to have accepted me as Rupert’s partner.
‘What about this one?’ Amanda holds up a slinky Vera Wang and I groan as I run my hands over it, shaking off all thoughts of Mags.
