See Me Not: A gripping psychological thriller with a heartbreaking twist.

by Janelle Harris

  ‘Okay,’ I say, just about audible over the noise of the water draining.

  ‘Okay,’ he echoes, uncertain.

  I pull my arm back out of the water and shake it off as I stand up straight. ‘Okay, I forgive you.’

  It’s not a complete lie. I want to forgive him. But just because I want to doesn’t mean I can.

  ‘Oh, Emma.’ David grabs me again. This time, I don’t balk, but I still don’t wrap my arms around him. ‘I’ll make this up to you. I promise. We’ll be okay. We’ll be okay. I love you.’

  His desperation to make it all better is etched into every worried line of his face. I know how he feels. I’ve spent the last fourteen years trying secretly to make it up to him.

  ‘David. I … I … I have to tell you something …’

  ‘There you are,’ Kim says, appearing at the door. ‘C’mon. I’ve made dinner.’

  Kim can’t possibly know she’s interrupted us just as I was about to confess everything to David. I’m sure she senses the stagnant atmosphere, but I’m also sure she blames David for it. She’s glaring at him like she wants to rip his skin off his bones with her bare hands.

  ‘Well, it’s takeaway, actually, but I did put it on plates, so it’s almost like cooking it myself,’ Kim flutters.

  David shuffles on the spot like just being near Kim is making him nervous.

  ‘There’s some for you too, David,’ Kim says, knowingly. ‘And I asked Andy to stay too. I hope that’s okay. He works tonight, and he won’t have time to get home and grab anything before his shift starts.’

  ‘Of course.’ I nod. ‘He was great today. I need to thank him.’

  Kim shrugs. ‘Ah, don’t worry about it. Andy’s cool. It’s no big deal to him.’

  David grows pale, and I can’t read him. I wonder if another man having to all-but-rescue his wife is sitting uncomfortably with him.

  ‘Thanks for today, Kim,’ David mumbles.

  ‘You’re welcome. But I already know I rock.’ Kim jiggles on the spot and uses the back of her hand to jokingly toss her long strawberry-blond hair over her shoulder dramatically. She can’t keep a straight face as she laughs.

  ‘Not to mention you’re so humble,’ I add, reluctantly reaching for David’s hand.

  He slides his fingers between mine and squeezes, causing my wedding ring to pinch the flesh a bit at the base of my finger, but I don’t flinch. The pinch stings, as if it’s mocking me. Reminding me of the sting of David’s infidelity. But it also reminds me that I’m the one David made a vow to, not that bitch Amber. For better or worse. David has seen me at my very worst. Maybe this is his.

  My thoughts circle in my head like a spinning top. I try to grab on and stop it as it tears through my brain, but I can’t. It gains speed with every passing minute, and eventually, it will burst through my skull, and my mind will explode. Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. If I explode, I’ll be done. Finished. Gone. Dead!

  My moods have always swayed like a pendulum. Dr Brady and David have pleaded with me over the years to try medication. I told them both, more than once, to shove the drugs up their arses. David laughed and said that’s exactly the response my bipolar forced me to give. I laughed more and told him to fuck off and stop relying on the internet for information. Google isn’t medical school, I’ve bitched countless times. Of course, Dr Brady wasn’t as easy to argue with, and I have about ten unfilled prescriptions stuffed into my sock drawer. I knew I wasn’t ill. I was just fucked up in the head because I’d made a huge mistake. But I couldn’t tell my husband or doctor that. I’ve been in a much better place for ages. Years. David and Danny helped me much more than any medication ever could. But my head is all messed up again now.

  ‘Oh, before I forget,’ Kim chirps, drawing my attention back to the here and now. She reaches her arm around her hip and pulls something out of her back pocket. ‘You left this on the window sill in the kitchen, and it was ringing a few minutes ago.’

  ‘Oh, that’s where it was.’ I swirl my eyes and take my phone from Kim’s hand. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘When was it ringing?’ David asks.

  ‘Eh, I dunno. Andy heard it. He told me when I got back from picking up the Chinese. He didn’t want to answer, and he didn’t want to come up and disturb you both, so he just let it ring out.’

  ‘It rang out?’

  ‘Yes. I just said that.’ Kim turns her glance towards me and pulls a face.

  ‘So Andy was the only one who heard it ring?’ David growls.

  The sides of David’s nose are growing an unflattering purplish-red, and I know he’s slowing losing his temper. I just don’t understand why.

  ‘Yes. Well, I wasn’t here, was I? And you two were upstairs.’ Kim’s eyes darken. ‘Obviously, Andy wasn’t going to come barging into the bathroom, now was he?’

  ‘Can I see that for a minute, Ems?’ David stretches his arm out to me and opens his hand.

  I pass him my phone. He studies it for a couple of seconds before turning the screen around to show Kim and me.

  ‘It’s not showing any missed calls.’ David jerks his head to one side. ‘Look.’

  Kim glances at the phone but quickly turns her attention back to me. She’s wide-eyed and obviously looking for a clue about David’s strange behaviour from me. But I have no idea why he’s acting like this either. I shrug.

  ‘Andy turned the sound off,’ Kim says. ‘He probably messed up the call log. Sorry, Emma. His phone is an Android, so he’s not used to the settings on an iPhone.’

  David pulls his chin between his thumb and index finger, and his eyes are rounder than usual with his pupils burning into me. I wish I knew what he is thinking. Maybe Andy makes him suspicious, which is fair enough. We don’t know the guy, and he’s suddenly become very involved in our life. But that’s my doing. And I have an inclination that David’s attitude is less about misgiving and more about embarrassment.

  ‘Look, I’m sorry, Emma.’ Kim stiffens. ‘Andy wasn’t snooping or anything. He just didn’t want your phone ringing and giving you a fright. I didn’t know you were expecting a call. Was it your doctor or someone?’

  I squint and glare at Kim, mildly insulted. I don’t need to call a doctor because I flipped out earlier. Jesus Christ, anyone would have lost it under the circumstances. I can never get away from the goddamn stigma of crazy bitch.

  ‘I wasn’t expecting any important calls,’ I calm.

  I try to appreciate that Kim is just worried, and I realise how lucky I am to have her as a friend.

  ‘Don’t worry about it. It was probably just work anyway. I left early today.’ I flick my hand as I throw the suggestion away.

  ‘It can’t have been the school calling you.’ David snorts. ‘It’s a new number. I got you a new SIM earlier.’

  ‘What? Why?’ I twitch.

  ‘You were all freaked out about that stalker thing, and I just thought it might help.’

  ‘Help take the heat off you,’ Kim mumbles.

  Kim’s jaw squares, and I guess it’s from pressing her back teeth together tightly. I can tell David’s odd behaviour on top of his infidelity is pushing Kim’s temper close to breaking point. Usually, I’d jump to his defence but not today. He deserves every dirty look Kim throws his way. However, I’m glad David doesn’t seem to hear her. Kim means well, but I really wish she’d go back downstairs. I don’t know how much longer she’ll keep her feisty side under control, and I can’t handle any more drama today. David and I need some privacy.

  ‘I’m sorry, Ems,’ David mumbles. ‘I thought I was doing the right thing. I hate seeing you like that.’

  ‘But my phone has all my contacts. All my numbers. They’ll all be lost now,’ I protest.

  ‘No. No, they won’t. We can transfer them over.’

  My forehead scrunches, and I don’t make any effort to hide how unimpressed I am. ‘So you’ve done that already, then?’

  ‘Well, no. Not yet. I didn’t get a chance.’

&nbs
p; ‘Okay, right. Well, obviously someone knows the new number or they wouldn’t be calling me.’

  ‘But that’s just it.’ David uses his free hand to ruffle his hair. ‘No one knows it. So I don’t get why Andy thinks your phone was ringing. It’s weird.’

  Kim’s expression is so beastly she’s practically growling from her pours. ‘Eh, not that weird, David. It’s probably just the phone company cold calling to check if you got set up with the new number okay. It’s just marketing. We do this in work all the time. I wouldn’t worry about it.’

  David’s irritation is reaching his breaking point, and I have to pull my hand free from his. His tense grip is cutting off my circulation.

  ‘It’s a pay-as-you-go SIM, Kim. Just a packet I picked up off the shelf. The phone company would have no clue who bought it or when. And I doubt they care, either.’

  ‘So who is it then?’ I stutter.

  My back cracks as I tug my hand away from David and jerk backwards, my feet still cemented to the spot.

  ‘Probably just your mother, Ems. I’m sorry,’ David backpedals. ‘I called her when I couldn’t find you.’ David’s efforts to sound breezy make his whole body stiff and awkwardly; it would be comical if he wasn't so patronising.

  ‘And you gave her the new number?’ I clip.

  ‘There we go. That explains it,’ Kim interrupts. ‘Now seriously, can we eat? I’m bloody starving.’

  ‘Sure.’ David walks out of the bathroom first.

  I stuff my phone into my pocket and walk after him. I’m not hungry. In fact, despite only having some digestive biscuits in my tummy, I feel bloated and full. It’s odd to think David couldn’t lie to me about something as world imploding as sleeping with his boss, but he’s confidently lied straight to my face about something as simple as giving my new phone number to my mother. I begin to wonder if I really know my husband at all.

  Chapter Nineteen

  EMMA

  My jerky, dangerous driving pollutes my journey to work. I run a couple of red lights, and it’s as if I’ve completely forgotten indicators exist. Other drivers flash their headlights at me or honk their horn to voice their fear or frustration. I cross my fingers that the cops won’t spot me and pull me over. I’m screwed if they breathalyse me because I’m sure I’m still over the limit from last night. I cringe, thinking back on my behaviour at dinner.

  Kim had bought a couple of bottles of wine to go with the Chinese takeaway. King Prawn Szechuan and red wine are my favourite combination, so I often overindulge but never quite like last night. I practically raced Kim and David to drain each bottle. By the time they were halfway through their first glass, I was finished and helping myself to another. And another. When Andy explained that he couldn’t drink when working, I was delighted and warned everyone rather loudly that I planned to drink Andy’s share. I did. And then some. By the time Kim reluctantly left to go home, I was ready to pass out on the sitting room couch. I woke up in my own bed, so David must have carried me upstairs at some point during the night.

  I think back on David’s sour face when I walked into the kitchen this morning, and I’m so distracted I almost clip the ankles off an elderly lady crossing at pedestrian lights. I raise my hand by way of apology, but she’s not impressed and scowls at me. I’m less than ten minutes from work, and I can’t wait to get into my classroom and put my head down on my desk. I try to concentrate on the road ahead, but my conversation with David in the kitchen this morning is playing on repeat in my aching brain.

  ‘I think you should call Dr Brady,’ David said.

  I glared at him with contempt.

  ‘Why?’ I snorted as I slid two slices of semi-stale bread into the toaster.

  ‘Emma, you’re in a bad place. I’m really worried about you.’

  ‘And what does that have to do with Dr Brady?’

  ‘Well, you said Dr Brady helped you a lot in the past. Will you call him?’

  That was when I lost my temper. I threw the tub of butter in my hand across the kitchen, narrowly missing David’s head. I don’t think I would have even felt bad had I hit him.

  ‘Dr Brady is a medic not a fucking magician, David,’ I snapped. ‘Unless he can somehow turn back time and stop you from sleeping with Amber, then I don’t think he can help me.’

  My grip on the wheel tightens, and my hands cramp, my fingers turning white. I turn in the gates of the school, and I’m actually relieved to be running so late. There are no kids running around outside. My head is so fuzzy; it would be terrifying to try to navigate my car around their giddy bodies today.

  ‘I’m so sorry I’m late,’ I mutter as I barge into my classroom.

  Thirty-two little heads turn around to smile at me, and without overthinking it, I smile back.

  ‘You okay,’ Liz says as I make my way to the top of the class. ‘We weren’t expecting you in today. Richard said you were feeling ill yesterday.’

  Liz started as a classroom assistant last year, and we became good friends quickly.

  I scrunch my nose and toss her a look that suggests it’s a long story. ‘I’m much better now,’ I lie.

  ‘You sure? You look very pale.’

  ‘Does Richard know I’m running late?’ I ask, sidestepping her question on my wellbeing.

  ‘He’s not in today,’ Liz beams, knowing she’s just made my day.

  ‘Phew,’ I joke, sliding my handbag under my desk. ‘Thanks a mill for looking after my class. I hope they were good.’

  ‘Ah sure, they’re little dotes,’ Liz says.

  I open the rollcall book on my desk and fish around for a black pen.

  ‘Oh, I called the roll already.’ Liz grins, triumphant.

  ‘Oh. Okay, thanks.’

  ‘Three absent and one coming in late. His mother called.’

  ‘Okay.’ I grimace.

  I’m painfully regimental calling the roll, and as I glance at the open book on my desk, I can already see that Liz has used a blue pen and ticked each child’s name off the list instead of placing a little x in the boxes provided that correspond with the date. It’ll grate on my nerves all day. But I console myself that I’ll wait until break time, and I’ll fix it then.

  ‘Okay, kids,’ I say with a single loud clap of my hands to gain their attention. ‘Take out your maths copies and let’s go over last night’s homework.’

  I glance at Liz, smiling, and wait for her to say goodbye.

  ‘I’ve already gone over their maths homework with them. And their spellings.’

  I sigh heavily and pull out my chair from under my desk. I need to sit.

  ‘Emma, you sure you’re okay?’ Liz crouches close to me and softens.

  Some curious necks stretch as little eyes stare up at us, but the majority of the children are whispering and chatting among themselves and pay us no attention.

  ‘Yeah. I’m fine.’ I shrug.

  ‘It’s just …’ Liz shuffles on the spot. ‘Were you out again last night?’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘It’s just … oh God, now, don’t take this the wrong way, but I can smell it on your breath.’

  My hand covers my mouth, and I blush. ‘Oh, my God. I’m sorry. I had takeaway last night, and it was loaded with garlic. I’ve chewing gum in my bag. I’ll use that.’

  ‘Actually …’ Liz looks even more embarrassed than I am. ‘I mean alcohol. It’s quite strong, to tell you the truth. Look, Emma, I’m not having a go at you, but it’s just if Richard pops by later and gets a whiff, well, you know yourself. He won’t be too happy.’

  I don’t know whether to be pissed off or grateful that Liz mentioned this. I brushed my teeth this morning, of course, and I drank a tonne of water in the car on the way to work. I can’t believe I still stink of booze.

  ‘Ah Emma, don’t be getting upset. We’ve all done it from time to time. I just don’t want to get you in trouble with the principal.’

  ‘Well, then don’t tell him,’ I bark.

  Liz jerks her head
back without moving her body; it gives her a stocky double chin, and some of the children begin to laugh.

  ‘Emma. I meant well.’ Liz snorts.

  ‘Yeah, I know. Sorry. I’m probably just hungover. Kim was around for dinner last night, and I think I overdid it a little.’ I toss my head to one side, smile, and wave my hand in the same direction as my head, hoping to come off as breezy and sociable and not an alcoholic and incompetent.

  ‘God, I know the feeling.’ Liz chuckles. ‘But I’d definitely munch on some of that chewing gum if I were you. Actually, could I have a piece?’

  I duck my head under my desk and rummage in my bag. I pull out my last piece of gum and pass it to Liz. She finally leaves, and I suspect that by the time lunch break comes around, almost every teacher in the school will have heard the gossip about my boozy breath.

  Forty minutes later, the children are quietly working away on a tricky word puzzle. It’s been an unbearably long morning. I spent most of my time avoiding getting too close to any of the children. The last thing I need is a curious five-year-old telling their parents that Ms Lyons smelt funny in school today. When the bell finally rings, and the children make their way outside to play, I decide to avoid the staffroom. I’m desperate for a coffee, but I can’t face the rumour mill. I already struggle with some of the older, more interfering teachers constantly prying about when David and I are going to start a family. Before the wedding, they regularly nagged me about when David was going to pop the question. It’s as if they’re ticking off milestones in a life events handbook. It’s harmless foolery, really, but I can’t cope with any jokes today.

  I stay sitting at my desk instead, checking my phone. I’ve lots of message from David. Most are of him telling me how sorry he is for upsetting me again this morning, and the rest are a series of various funny emojis.

  I don’t know how I feel about his apology. I don’t want to get into an argument about seeing a doctor, and I definitely don’t want to talk about Amber, so I reply with more emojis. None of a smiley face, though.

  In spite of the whirlwind that was the last twenty-four hours, I feel somewhat lighter knowing I can check my phone without the fear of some creep out there trying to get in touch. A new SIM was a good idea. David definitely got that much right. And Kim’s suggestion to stay away from social media was logical. No Facebook or Twitter or any of it. My fingers are itching to log in, but I suspect I’ll find a tone of nastiness waiting for me in the virtual world. It’s a difficult detox. My life has become so entwined with the internet. Checking in on what friends are up to and seeing pictures of their travels or babies. It’s part of my everyday routine like brushing my hair or getting dressed, and I feel the loss. Without the online world demanding some of my day, I’ll have more time than ever just to think. And right now, I’ve way too much to think about.