Behind A Twisted Smile (Dark Minds Book 2)

by Faith Mortimer

  “Of course she did. Sorry, I’m feeling tired after my run. Let’s finish our picnic. Anyway, here’s to you both,” I said, raising my glass in their direction. I took a sip, but as I replaced the glass back on the table, my hand shook so much I knocked it over.

  “Oh, how clumsy. Sorry. It’s a good job it’s white and not red,” I cried in embarrassment as Evie and Martyn leapt up from their seats.

  “No problem,” he said as he mopped up the spilt wine on the table with a serviette.

  “It’s okay, I’ve got another bottle. Except that it’s red,” Evie said delving into one of the cool bags.

  “Allow me.” Martyn took the bottle from her hands and reached for the bottle opener. “No harm’s been done, Moya. This red’s pretty good. We got it from the wine shop just round the corner, didn’t we, Evie? I like a cheeky little Merlot, and I know you do too, Moya.”

  “Do I? Er, no more for me thanks.”

  “Go on? A little red won’t hurt—it might mellow you,” Martyn said as he plunged the corkscrew in.

  “No, really. I’ve got to drive home and I’ve had enough.”

  “You’re not still worrying about whether it’s produced organically or not, are you?” He swung his gaze to Evie. “Honestly, Moya would spend all her time dithering about whether her diet was all wrong. I never knew what we were going to have to eat. Ace diet, GI, Five: Two. Your sister has a real compulsion for eating and drinking the right things, doesn’t she, honeybun?”

  “Well, Moya has always been fussy about what she eats.”

  “But it’s more than that, isn’t it?” He pressed on. “Moya frets about selecting, buying, preparing, cooking, ornamenting, and eventually consuming her food. You know, I’d say she’s bulimic as well as suffering from OCD.”

  “Excuse me. She…I am sitting right here you know, and you’ve got it completely wrong.” I couldn’t help crying out with outrage. “I do not worry that much. I just like experimenting with things and that includes diet. If you must know, I maintain that all aspects of people's needs, including psychological, physical and social, should be taken into account and seen as a whole. I don’t consider it unusual to want a complete holistic order throughout my life.”

  “I hope you‘re not still worried about your weight…you don’t need to. You’re as slim as ever. Actually, you’re thinner now that I look closely at you. Your waist is trimmer and makes your bust more prominent. Wouldn’t you agree, Evie?”

  Struggling to keep my temper, I bit my bottom lip.

  “Yes, but then Moya has always had a lovely figure.” She answered in a tight little voice, and I flicked a glance her way, wondering if she guessed what Martyn was insinuating. He was with my breasts, and the memory made me want to squirm.

  I thought back to Martyn’s little statement about bulimia and OCD, both mental disorders. He said he was a nurse, but the thought crossed my mind that he might have been a registered mental nurse. Sod it, I knew next to nothing about the man. The stuff I remembered was a bit thin on the ground; he said he was a nurse between placements. I never met any of his friends other than the one at the diving school. I hadn’t seen his flat, and I didn’t know anything about his past life apart from him saying he was an orphan.

  I looked at my watch and wondered how soon I could get away. Evie must have noticed, as she immediately pulled out another plastic box from the cool bag and whipped off the lid with a flourish.

  “Mini apple pies,” she said, with a pleased grin. “Martyn’s favourite.”

  “Not quite…I prefer blackcurrant. I thought you knew.”

  Evie’s mouth made a little moue of disappointment.

  “But these do look scrummy, and I bet you spent ages making them for me, didn’t you, honeybun?”

  Yuk! I was feeling queasy. “You never told me how you two met.”

  Evie laughed. “It was quite bizarre, really. We literally bumped headlong into one another. It was my fault—I wasn’t looking where I was going, and suddenly there I was, sprawled on the pavement, broken eggs and shopping all around me. Martyn helped me pack everything up, apologising all the time, saying it was his fault, and then I noticed I’d broken the heel of my shoe.”

  “I couldn’t let a damsel in distress carry all that shopping.”

  Evie flushed and giggled. “No, Martyn, you were lovely. Anyway, he insisted he carry all the plastic bags and asked me where my car was.”

  “Not knowing Evie lived nearby,” Martyn said, helping himself to a second apple pie and taking a large bite.

  “Once we reached my front door, I realised we hadn’t stopped chatting since bumping into one another. It seemed as if we’d known each other for ages.”

  “I said I felt as if I knew Evie from long ago and we both laughed,” Martyn said, giving Evie a fond look.

  “Yes. I replied I was just about to say the same thing. By then, it seemed natural to invite Martyn in for a cup of coffee. He stayed for lunch, and we went out that evening for dinner.”

  “After that, we met every day, and here we are. All the time, I had this feeling Evie reminded me of someone, and one evening, it clicked. She mentioned her three sisters, including you, Moya. You can imagine how amazed we both were.”

  Evie nodded her golden head, and again, I noticed how full of life she looked. My heart did a little jump, as I realised she had fallen headlong in love.

  “Yes, surprised and a bit worried at first,” she said. “But I’m so pleased we’ve sorted it all out and you’re okay with everything.”

  “Evie, I’m really pleased for you.”

  She laughed and her eyes sparkled. “I’m so happy. As I said earlier, we’ve been dating for three weeks now, and we both feel the same. I know about you and Martyn…well, you know what I’m trying to say.”

  “It’s fine. You’re in love and it’s really great.” Was it? Three weeks, about the same time he and I had been seeing each other. Was my elder sister really so blindly in love?

  Without realising, I drank more of the wine Martyn had poured for me and nibbled at a fruit pastry. We—they—chatted, and I joined in with the obligatory yes or no, at the same time stealing covert looks at the pair of them: her so happy and he so smug. I could have slapped him.

  The afternoon autumn chill descended, and with relief, I stretched, said that my stiff muscles ached and that I needed a deep hot bath. I cried off going to a pub with them and out for dinner afterwards, saying it was time I headed home.

  We packed up the picnic and walked back to the car park. Evie said she was desperate for a pee and disappeared into the ladies.

  I could feel Martyn’s eyes travelling over my body as I unlocked my car and threw my bag inside. I straightened and turned only to find him so unbelievably close, I could smell his cologne.

  “That was an amazing coincidence, wasn’t it?”

  “What was?”

  “You bumping into my sister after I’d broken up with you. How did you find her?”

  “What? Oh, Moya, Moya. Don’t be like that.” His voice changed to a soft purr. “I was merely being a gentleman and helping a lady with her broken shopping bags. Surely you’re not suggesting I orchestrated it? She bumped into me, don’t forget.”

  “Hmm. So you said.”

  “And no, I don’t believe in coincidences. Kismet or fate, maybe”

  “What?”

  “Why wouldn’t I fall in love with a beautiful woman? Especially if she looks like you. Older yes, but in the full flush of beauty.”

  What type of sick joke was he playing? He hadn’t been in love with me. He used me and my flat because we were convenient at the time.

  “If you’re playing some sick idea of a joke with her, don’t. She’s been through a rough time and deserves some happiness.”

  “I know, she told me. And yes, I’ll make her happy. I already have. We’re like two peas in a pod already.” His mouth hovered unbearably close to mine, and I backed away as far as I could until I could feel the hard
metal of my car door close behind me.

  “Just because I broke it off with you, don’t use her to get back at me.”

  He stepped back with a look of horror and shock on his face.

  “Moya! I thought you knew me better.”

  No, you sick fuck. That’s the problem. I don’t know you at all. And perhaps worst of all, neither does Evie.

  Chapter 4

  On the Friday before I met Evie and Martyn, my friend Faye rang me as soon as she arrived back from Europe, and I thought she sounded jaded over the phone. I asked if travelling to the continent was taking its toll.

  “Are you not enjoying working over there anymore?” I asked.

  “Not really,” she said with a sigh then obviously changed her mind. “Maybe. I think the romance of working abroad has worn off, and as far as some of those representatives in Brussels go, you’ve heard all the rumours, no doubt, about the scams which go on. Sometimes I wonder why any of us bother. The truth is, I’m fed up with travelling and thinking of finding a new job closer to home.”

  I couldn’t help agreeing and felt my spirits rise at the thought of having her nearer and seeing each other more often.

  “Without sounding selfish, I think that’s the best thing I’ve heard in a while. What does Simon think? I bet he agrees.”

  “Yes and no. The money I’m earning over there is better than I’ll get back in the UK, but he’s all for us spending more time together. As you know, he’s keen to get married as soon as possible.”

  “And you? What do you want?”

  She laughed. “It’s my turn to say yes and no. I love Simon, of course, and it’ll be great having more time to do things.”

  I caught a hesitation in her voice. “But?”

  “But, he’s really set on starting a family. I don’t know where he gets his enthusiasm from. He probably thinks he can do a better job of raising kids than his father did. As for me, I’d really like to leave it another year or so if I’m honest.”

  “Then tell him. You’re only thirty-six. There’s still time before the dreaded four O.”

  “Yeah, thanks a lot for reminding me. We’ll see. Anyway, about getting together…”

  We arranged to meet later that week and then hung up.

  I thought about what she said. Like Faye and her sister, Kate, I wasn’t that keen on having kids either. I liked them in small doses, but I never became gooey-eyed around babies and tiny tots. Perhaps it was something to do with having a baby sister hoisted on me when I was twenty-one. Or maybe I was just plain selfish. I always thought that if and when I met Mr Right, we would talk about it seriously, but so far it hadn’t happened. Not that I was too bothered. I did enjoy my own company and always told everyone that as far as men were concerned, variety was the spice of life.

  ***

  I finished work at half past four that day, and as soon as I got home, I opted for a short run. My muscles still ached a little from Saturday’s half-marathon, and a couple of miles would help stretch them out. I often called into the gym when out on a run, and that evening, I decided to spend half an hour there to do some gentle exercises.

  My run was uneventful, and the gym was pretty full. Half an hour would suffice in the sweaty atmosphere. I went through the motions of a shortened routine, and towards the end, I noticed a newcomer.

  I guessed him to be about medium height, five foot ten, with a few excess pounds around his middle, but judging by the gusto of his performance, he seemed determined to lose some weight. After ten minutes, I realised he was following me round the circuit, and I wondered if his gusto was to impress me in some way. I tried not to gawp too much, but there was something about him which seemed familiar.

  He must have caught me looking sideways at him because as soon as he finished on the biceps curl, he came over, towel draped around his shoulders and a sheepish grin on his pleasant face.

  “Hi, I’ve been watching you on the equipment. You know your way around the gym.”

  Not a brilliant chat-up line, and as I was at that moment lying on the leg press, he caught me at a disadvantage. Stifling back a sigh, I finished my last repetition and swung my body round to face him. He must have noticed my wary look.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. What I meant was, you seem to have a good routine. I’m new to all this.”

  I took pity on the poor fellow; apart from putting too much wasted energy into the reps, I knew he hadn’t a clue on which weights to use.

  “That’s okay. Yeah, I’ve been coming here for a couple of years now, so I’m familiar with everything.”

  “I’m Jon, by the way.”

  I took the proffered hand. “Moya.”

  “So what’s the answer?”

  “Sorry?”

  “What should I be doing to get it right?”

  “Ah! I see. Depends if you want to lose weight and get fit or bodybuild.”

  “A bit of both, I suppose, I’ve been tied to a desk too much lately.”

  I looked at him more closely. He had short fair hair which had a tendency to curl—probably from the steamy environment—and his green-grey eyes were flecked with topaz. I was amused when I realised all his gear was new, right down to his black-and-green gym shoes. He smiled a candid gentle smile, and I warmed to him immediately.

  “I’m not really qualified to offer advice, but if I were you, I’d have a one-to-one with the instructor here. Speak to Daniel…he’s brilliant.”

  “Thanks, I’ll do that.”

  We chatted for a while, sipping from our water bottles and generally cooling down, until he remembered he had left his dog in the car and needed to go and rescue him before he wrecked the seats.

  “It’s been nice meeting you,” he said as we walked towards the changing rooms.

  “Yes, I expect we’ll bump into one another here again.”

  “I aim to come at least three times a week. Especially the weekends, as I’m extra busy at work right now.” He paused as if he was about to add something else, before changing his mind.

  “Then no doubt we will—I’m a regular.”

  As we said goodbye and our eyes locked, I knew we would see each other again…it would only be a matter of time before he asked me out, and the thought thrilled me.

  I smiled as I collected the keys to my flat and my phone from my locker, thinking that for every lousy mistake we make, there’s usually a golden opportunity waiting along the path.

  The trick was in taking the right path.

  ***

  Faye and I were due to meet in our favourite Chinese restaurant, which actually wasn’t that far from where she lived with Simon. As I arrived home from the gym, my phone rang, and I saw that the caller was her.

  “Everything okay?” I asked.

  “Not really, I’ve come down with a cold, and I don’t think I can face going out tonight.” She sounded like a nasally Marlon Brandon from the classic film, On the Waterfront, ‘I could have been a contender…’

  “Poor you. That’s all right. We can go out some other time.”

  “But I still want to see you.”

  “When? Tonight? Look, if you’re up to it, how about I pick up a takeaway and come round with it? I know what your favourites are.”

  “Would you? That’d be great. I think staying in and having a girlie night in front of the fire will do me more good than sitting in a draughty restaurant. Simon’s going out, by the way, so it’ll be just you and me.”

  I said I’d see her within the hour and hung up.

  Chapter 5

  “Brussels is okay, but they don’t have a Chinese restaurant which is a patch on The Peking Garden. Their Mandarin chicken is to die for.”

  “My fave is still the chilli beef,” I replied as I helped myself to more. “The chilli and ginger might help your cold, too.”

  Faye sniffed. She looked completely washed out, and I thought relocating to the UK would be a good move. We were sitting in her living room, in the tiny house she shared with Simo
n. True to her word, she had made up a huge fire—or Simon had—and after closing the door and drawing the curtains on the damp night outside, we decamped to the floor with our takeaway containers spread on the rug before us. The smell of soy sauce, chilli and hoisin filled the room. Enough to get my juices going.

  “Might,” she sniffed again and gave me a watery-eyed smile over her chopsticks. “So tell me more about this Martyn…it sounds intriguing. I only met him the once and that was brief. You were on the way to the supermarket, as I recall.”

  I nodded. “To pick up weekend groceries. Which I always paid for, now you mention it. True, we only went out together for a few weeks, but he never seemed to have any money on him, bloody creep.”

  “What never?”

  “Nope.”

  “Then you’re well shot of him. I hate tight men. One thing about Simon, he’s never mean with money.”

  “Simon’s nice.”

  “And this Martyn wasn’t?”

  “Isn’t.”

  “Okay, so he’s left you feeling irritated. But why? You said you finished with him—hasn’t that solved your problem?”

  “Well, one problem’s solved. I don’t have to go out with him anymore.”

  “I don’t understand, Moya. You’re not making sense, and you’re usually so in control. You seem…upset, as if you still cared or minded what he did. No, don’t deny it. I can read you like a sister. We’ve known each other far too long to muck around. Moya, what is it?”

  I chewed on a crispy-battered sweet-and-sour prawn before answering.

  “Okay, I admit it. I do mind. But not because of me—it’s because it doesn’t feel right.”

  She frowned and waved her wine glass at me. “Not right? In what way?”

  “Apart from being a tight arse over money, he’s odd. He acts in a creepy, scary sort of way. Look, when I first met up with Evie on Saturday, she acted like she was over the moon about something. From the moment I set eyes on her, I knew something had happened. She looked so different…new clothes and had changed her hair. You know her—she’s usually so conservative, almost boring, she’s so predictable. Then she told me how she’d met this amazing guy…and eventually it all came out and told me it was Martyn.”