I nod and point to the little machine that’s next to useless in this sweltering heat.
George makes a non-committal noise in his throat. ‘Anyway, shop’s looking great. Which is more than can be said for you. You all right? Looking a bit pale and peaky. You need to get out in the sunshine more, Lizzy.’
I nod, not about to get into all my personal issues with George.
‘You speak to Pippa yet? She’s not here, so I take it you’ve given her the old heave-ho.’ He jingles the keys in his shorts pocket.
‘I spoke to her, yes.’
‘And? She gonna bring back all the stuff she’s nicked?’
I decide to tell a little white lie and repeat what Seb and I agreed. ‘She’s going to add it all up and give you the cash. She just needs a little while longer to get it together.’
‘Fine.’ He nods. ‘I’ll have to hire someone ASAP, but in the meantime, you okay to look after the place on your own? I can cancel today’s wakeboarding if you need me to stay today. Just say the word. To be honest, I need an excuse to get out of it.’
I manage a small laugh. ‘No, you go, George. I’ll be fine.’
‘Damn. Well, okay, but it’s your fault if I break my neck! Only joking. You’re a little diamond, you are.’ He gives my arm a squeeze and turns to go.
‘There’s something else, George.’
‘Oh yeah?’ He turns back to me.
‘I’m going to have to hand in my notice at the cottage.’
‘What? Oh, that’s a shame. Fed up of renting? You and Joe gonna buy somewhere instead?’
‘I doubt it. Joe and I broke up.’ I tense up against the threatening tears.
‘Oh, Lizzy. I’m sorry… no chance of you two getting back together?’
I shake my head. ‘He’s moved out.’
‘Oh.’ He chews his lip for a moment. ‘Well, if you’re having trouble coming up with the rent, I can help out.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Have a couple of months half price. See how you get on.’
‘George! Thank you!’ I can’t believe I’m actually having a bit of good luck for a change.
‘My pleasure, Lizzy. You’ve always been a good tenant. Be sorry to lose you. Must be getting soft in my old age. Right, I’m off. Wish me luck with this wakeboarding malarkey.’
The rest of the day passes quickly enough. I’m rushed off my feet with absolutely no time to think about anything, thank goodness. Despite my brain being occupied with customers, my stomach is constantly queasy and my eyes are scratchy and tired. At least I have a couple of months’ financial breathing space while I figure out where I’m going to live. George certainly surprised me with his generous offer to halve the rent. It’s totally out of character. But I’m not about to complain.
* * *
Back home after work, I decide that even though I’m shattered, I’m going to make a start on packing up Joe’s things. I can’t bear to look at them, and the sooner he collects his stuff, the sooner I can put his lies behind me and move on with my life. But move on where and how, I have no idea.
I make my way upstairs and heave the largest suitcase down from the loft, dragging it into our bedroom. I open the wardrobe and stare at Joe’s clothes, which have been chucked in any which way. I’ll throw all his clothes and toiletries into the case and then he can pick them up while I’m out tomorrow. He’ll have to bring some boxes for the rest of his things. I try not to remember the two of us moving in here. How excited we were to have our own place. This cottage represented the beginning of my adult life. Of being exactly where I wanted to be. So now what?
My biggest worry about moving is Frank. Most rental places don’t allow pets, especially flats, which is probably what I’m looking at being able to afford, if I’m lucky. I push away images of tiny bedsits, of having to give Frank away. But it surely won’t come to that. Will it? I pull out my first armful of his clothes, a waft of his scent making me catch my breath. Why didn’t Joe come clean at the time? If he’d admitted what he’d done, we could have argued about it and moved on one way or another. But the fact he lied and ruined my relationship with Emma for so many years… it means there’s no way back.
The only upside to all this heartache is that it’s taking my mind off my stalker. I clench my fists and square my shoulders. In fact, if he showed his face right now, far from being scared, I’d probably give him a piece of my mind. But the reality is that I now live alone. I’ll have no one here to turn to when the next letter arrives. And it will arrive, of that I’m sure. My heady moment of bravado is rapidly disappearing.
I spend the next half hour clearing out Joe’s clothes. At least I’ll have more space in the wardrobe, I think, trying to tease out a silver lining. By the time the case is bulging with my ex-boyfriend’s belongings, I’m hot and sweaty and thirsty. I jump in the shower, change into a thin cotton dress and sit on the end of the bed, my eyes closed for a moment, trying not to give in to the sadness. I don’t want to cry. I don’t want to think about any of this. I just want to live a normal life, with a nice boyfriend, a decent job and no stalker. Is that too much to ask?
My stomach lurches as the doorbell rings. Maybe it’s Ruby again. I stand up, smooth back my damp hair and walk down the stairs. Yesterday’s hesitancy to answer the door has gone. I pull open the door. ‘Emma!’
She’s in her work clothes, smart but stressed-looking, several creases lining her brow. ‘Are you okay? I came as soon as I could,’ she says, glancing up and down the road. ‘Is it the stalker again? Or Joe? Why didn’t you return my calls?’
‘Sorry, am I missing something?’ I ask. ‘Come in.’ I step back and she follows me into the hall.’
‘Is Joe…?’
‘Moved out,’ I reply. ‘I was going to call you. I was going to apologise. You were right, about everything. And I was wrong. I’m so sorry, Ems. I’m so, so sorry.’
‘Is this what your message was about?’ she asks, a puzzled look on her face.
‘Message?’
‘Your text message.’
My heart begins to pound. ‘I never sent you a message.’
‘Yes, you did, look.’ Emma pulls her phone out of her bag, pulls up the message and shows me:
Emma, can you come over. It’s urgent. I need to see you ASAP, Lizzy.
‘I never sent that!’
‘You didn’t?’ Emma stares at me intently.
‘No.’ A low bellow of thunder rumbles in the distance, but we’re too caught up in our conversation to remark upon it. ‘So if the message wasn’t from me…’
Emma’s face hardens. We stare at one another, realising at the same time that this is another message from our stalker. The question is, what does it mean? And what do they want?
Forty
‘Was it sent from my phone?’ I scan the message details on her mobile and see that there’s a number attached to the text. But it’s not mine.
‘I tried calling the number,’ Emma says, ‘but it wouldn’t connect. So I called your other number, but that one just went straight through to voicemail.’
‘Sorry about that. I put my phone on silent so I could ignore all Joe’s messages and calls.’
‘And you’re absolutely sure this text isn’t from you?’
‘Nope, definitely not.’
‘So…’ She grimaces.
‘Yeah. It must be from the same person who’s sending the letters. I can’t think of anyone else who would do it.’
‘Check your phone,’ Emma says. ‘See if they’ve sent you anything.’
She follows me into the kitchen where I pull my phone out of my bag and start scrolling past all Joe’s texts, dreading spotting an anonymous number. But there are no unusual texts. ‘Nothing that I can see,’ I say, my heart rate slowing. ‘Why would they send you that message?’
‘To mess with us?’ Emma replies. ‘To make me worried about you? Who knows? It’s bloody annoying. I was looking forward to a relaxing night in front of the telly, n
ot a mad dash down the motorway in Friday-night traffic.’
‘Sorry,’ I say.
‘You don’t need to say sorry. It wasn’t you who sent the message… was it?’
‘No! I already said it wasn’t.’
Emma gives a grim smile. ‘Just double-checking.’ She slips her phone back in her bag and drums her nails on the kitchen counter. ‘So, you and Joe… he finally admitted it, then?’
I nod, hardly daring to speak about it.
‘How did you get him to own up?’
‘I asked him outright. I knew straight away from the expression on his face. And he knew I knew. So there was no point him denying it any more.’
She sits down heavily on the kitchen stool, rests her elbows on the counter top.
‘Oh, Emma,’ I cry, ‘I am so sorry. I’m the worst sister in the world. I don’t know what I was thinking back then, and for all these years. Do you hate me? You must do.’
Emma fixes me with an unreadable stare. ‘Of course I don’t hate you. You’re my little sister. You’re bloody annoying, and stubborn, but even after all this time I still love you, Lizzy. Even if you have massively pissed me off.’
Her words warm me, but also fill me with shame. ‘How can you even look at me after I took Joe’s side against you? I basically cut you out of my life for no good reason.’
She shrugs. ‘He’s charming. You loved him. I guess he was easy to believe.’
I shake my head and stare at my feet.
‘Don’t get me wrong,’ Emma says, ‘for the first couple of years I hated your guts. I was furious with you and with Joe. Those bloody birthday lunches of Mum’s were torture. But then I met Mike, and one day I told him about everything that had happened between us, and he explained how we all make errors in judgement. How, if you truly believed Joe was telling the truth, then of course you would take his side. He made me see that this was Joe’s fault, not yours. You were just caught up in his lie. He told me that the truth would eventually come out.’ She gives a brittle laugh. ‘I didn’t believe him, but it turns out he was right.’
I’m now seeing Emma’s fiancé in a whole new light. ‘Sounds like you’ve got the perfect man there, Emma. What is he, a Christian, a Buddhist?’
Emma smiles. ‘No, he’s just kind. I actually tried to set up a meeting with Joe a couple of years ago, to try to talk him into owning up to what he’d done. To tell him I would forgive him. But he wouldn’t even meet with me. Wouldn’t return my calls. So I gave up, and just carried on living my life, without you in it.’
How could I have got things so wrong? Mum’s right about me, I’m not half the person Emma is. I need to sit down, to digest everything. But there’s only one stool in the kitchen and Emma is sitting on it. I lean back against the counter instead, trying to take it all in.
‘What are we going to do about this message?’ Emma asks.
‘What can we do?’ I say, crossing my arms. ‘Nothing. I guess we need to let the police know about it. But there’s no traceable number. We don’t know why they left the message in the first place. To get you here?’
‘Maybe.’
‘There’s something else…’
Emma raises an eyebrow and I tell her about the hoax call to British Gas.
‘Bloody hell,’ she says, her eyes filling with concern. ‘Are you okay?’
I shrug. ‘I guess I should be thankful there wasn’t an actual gas leak. But it makes me worried that it was some kind of threat. That they might actually act on it next time. Maybe even do something to the boiler.’
‘You should get an alarm system.’
‘I’ll probably be moving out soon, so there’s no point.’
‘Why don’t I stay and keep you company?’ she says.
‘That’s okay. You should probably just go back home and enjoy your evening.’ But I realise I don’t want her to go.
‘I can’t leave you here on your own. Not while there’s a crazy person out there. You could come back to Bristol with me. Our flat’s pretty big, and we’ve got a lovely spare room that hardly ever gets used. Come on, pack a bag, let’s go.’ She springs to her feet.
‘I can’t, Emma. I’ve got work tomorrow.’
‘You can still go to work. Plenty of people commute that distance. Traffic won’t be too bad on a Saturday morning.’
‘Honestly, Emma, thank you, but I can’t.’
‘You can.’
‘I’d feel weird with Mike there. He knows everything about us, about me not believing you, my own sister. I feel crap about it. Ashamed.’
‘Mike’s not like that. He’s a good guy. You’ll see once you get to know him properly.’
‘I’m sure I will. Just… just not yet, okay?’
‘Fine. I’ll stay here with you then. Have you got a spare room? Or I can sleep on the sofa.’
‘I can’t ask you to do that.’
‘You’re not asking, I’m offering. And anyway, we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.’ Emma takes my hand in both of hers and squeezes it. ‘I’ve got you back in my life again, Lizzy. I’m not letting you stay here on your own where some psycho stalker can get to you. We can order in a takeaway and talk about old times, before our misunderstanding.’
But even with my sister in the cottage with me, I realise I don’t want to stay here. Not with the memories of Joe all around me and the distinct possibility of him turning up unannounced. Plus, it will be awful if Emma’s here when Joe shows up – and I know he will, it’s only a matter of time. Joe turning up is almost as bad as the threat of our stalker leaving another letter… or worse.
Something suddenly occurs to me. Something that would be perfect. ‘Emma, I’ve got an idea. Wait here a minute.’ Infused with a sudden burst of energy, I leave the kitchen.
‘Where are you going?’ my sister calls after me.
‘I’ll be two minutes!’ I snatch up my keys and leave the house, heading next door to Ian and Ruby’s. While I’m outside a streak of lightning flashes above me, splitting the sky in two.
Ian answers the door. ‘All right, Lizzy,’ he says, scratching the side of his groin and staring up at the sky. ‘Looks like it’s about to piss down.’
‘Ian, hi. Yes, must be a summer shower on its way. Is Ruby in?’
‘Hang on, I’ll get her.’ He disappears into the lounge and Ruby comes out.
‘Hiya.’ Her hair is pulled up in a high ponytail, and her shorts are so short I’m almost embarrassed to look at her. ‘You okay?’ she asks. ‘Wanna come in for a drink?’
‘No, I won’t stop, but thank you. I was wondering… is that offer of the minibreak still available? No worries if not, I just thought—’
‘Yeah, ’course it is. You wanna go?’
‘If that’s okay?’
She gives me a huge grin. ‘Honestly, Lizzy, you’re gonna love it. I am well jel. Although it looks like there’s a massive storm on the way…’
‘Doesn’t bother me. We could do with a storm to cool things down a bit.’
We both give a start as a crack of thunder shakes the air.
‘Fuck!’ Ruby cries. ‘’Scuse my French.’
I laugh at her expression. ‘There’s just one other thing…’
‘Oh yeah?’
‘Would you mind if my sister came with me on the minibreak?’
‘Your sister? I thought you two weren’t speaking. What about that thing with Joe?’
‘Long story, but we’ve sort of made up. So I thought the holiday home thing could be a nice break, a chance to reconnect.’
‘Sounds good,’ she says with a smile.
I’m actually starting to get excited about this trip. It could be a really good way to spend time with my sister. A really positive start to the rest of my life. ‘Thank you, Ruby.’ I kiss her cheek and she turns bright red.
‘No worries,’ she chirps. ‘I’ll text you the details and the key code, okay?’
‘Brilliant. Thank you so much. Have a good time at Ian’s dad’s do. I bet it
will be great.’
Ruby rolls her eyes.
I head home, looking forward to telling my sister the news that we’re about to have a night away in a five-star holiday home. Away from bad boyfriends. Away from untrustworthy friends. Away from scary stalkers. I can’t wait.
Forty-One
‘A holiday home?’ Emma replies.
‘Hang on a minute.’ I’ve finally taken my phone off silent and all my messages are buzzing and pinging like the damn thing is about to explode. ‘Here.’ I show her the text that Ruby has just sent across. It’s the details for the rental property, along with a link to the website page. I click on it and start scrolling through the photos.
Emma’s eyes widen as she sees the images. ‘And this neighbour of yours has said we can stay there?’
‘Yep. She said we can have it for two nights.’
‘I wish I had your neighbours!’
‘I’ve still got to go to work tomorrow, but that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy it while I’m gone during the day.’
‘Really?’ she turns and wrinkles her nose at me.
‘Yes, sorry. But I’ll be back by five thirty. You can relax by the pool while I’m gone.’
‘Okay. I suppose a day by the pool doesn’t sound too bad.’ She gives me a rueful smile.
‘I’m sure you’ll cope. It’ll just sit empty if we don’t go. I really didn’t fancy staying there on my own, so I’m glad you’re up for it.’
‘Totally! I’ll need to borrow some clothes, though.’ She chews her bottom lip and I know what she’s thinking – that my clothes will swamp her slender frame.
‘No problem,’ I reply. ‘I’ve got a whole load of “skinny” clothes from back when I was on a diet in 2014. It lasted all of six months and I almost made it down to a size ten. It was possibly the only time Mum ever smiled at me.’
‘She’s not that bad, Lizzy.’
I give Emma a look.
‘Okay, maybe she is, but it’s only because she loves you and she thinks she’s helping.’
The Silent Sister_An gripping psychological thriller with a nail-biting twist Page 22
