‘You set the alarm. So unless he knows the code . . .’
‘You’re right. I’m just being paranoid.’ Even so, as we step into each bedroom and bathroom I find myself holding my breath until we’ve secured every window and checked under every bed and in every wardrobe, my heart hammering.
Downstairs, we go into the lounge, make sure the curtains are tightly drawn as if these swathes of flimsy material will protect us from a lunatic. Will sits on one sofa, I sit on another.
‘You hungry?’ I ask.
Will shakes his head.
‘Me neither.’
The silence in the room swells, the air heavy with unspoken words. Normally, this is a cosy room, a room to snuggle up in, to watch a flickering fire or an escapist movie. A room where we light the table lamps for their warm glow, not the harsh overhead chandelier which now highlights our pale, drawn faces and casts unfamiliar shadows.
‘Will,’ I blurt out. ‘I really am truly sorry about everything. I should have told you what was happening from the start, but I couldn’t think straight. I didn’t know what to do.’
‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘Well, let’s not worry about that now. We need to work out what we’re going to do next.’ Although Will has already reassured me he still wants to be with me, his body language says differently. His manner has become abrupt, his expression tight-lipped. I guess I’d be the same if I were in his position, but it doesn’t stop my head swimming with anxiousness that our marriage might not make it through all of this.
‘Right,’ he says, slapping his knees. ‘There’s only one thing we can do to be safe – we need to get out of the country.’
I exhale, relieved. This is what I wanted for us all along. It’s the only way. Something else occurs to me: ‘I think we might have to take your dad with us.’
‘My dad?’
‘Just as a precaution. Just in case Fin tries to use him . . . to get to us.’
‘Oh my God.’ He rubs his temple. ‘This is a bloody nightmare.’
‘I’m so sorry, Will.’ My voice cracks. All I seem to be able to do is apologise.
‘No. You’re right. My dad’s not safe. It’s not your fault Fin’s a lunatic. Glad your taste in men has improved since then.’ He gives a grim smile and exhales.
I lean over and touch his arm, my heart swelling with love for this man who’s so ready to believe me, to take my side after I’ve brought all this trouble to his door. ‘What will you tell him? Your dad, I mean.’
He shrugs and throws up his hands. ‘I’ll say we’re taking him on a family holiday. He won’t be pleased to leave Blackwell’s, though. You know what he’s like.’
‘Shall I go online? Book the flights now?’
‘Yeah, I guess. Where do you think we should go?’
There’s only one place I can think of. I just hope Will agrees. ‘We could always go to Sweden,’ I say. ‘It’ll be easy. I know the place. My parents are there if we need any help. And . . .’ I pause. I can’t tell him the rest. Not yet. Maybe later. When we’re on our way. ‘. . . No. Yeah. That’s it, really. That’s my suggestion.’
‘Yeah, okay. Do it. Book the tickets. I’ll go and get Dad. I’ll text you his passport details.’
‘Will, please be careful. Fin is probably out there watching us, you know that, right?’
‘I’ll be fine. He can’t just go ahead and kill me. Not if he wants to make it look like an accident. He’ll have to plan something convincing. That takes time, surely.’
‘Take the Land Rover,’ I say. ‘He’ll have a hard job trying to run you off the road in that beast.’
‘Good idea.’ Will rises to his feet.
I want to throw my arms around him, but I’m not sure if he’ll hug me back, so I stay standing where I am, wrapping my arms around myself instead.
‘Okay,’ he says, scratching at the side of his chin. ‘You start packing and closing up the house, I’ll go and break the news to Dad that we’re taking him on a little holiday. God knows what he’s going to say to that.’
‘I won’t pack much,’ I say. ‘Just carry-on stuff. We can buy anything else we need when we get there, yeah?’
‘Okay. Whatever you think.’
We face one another like strangers. Awkward. Unsure. He leans across and gives me a peck on the lips. It’s not enough, but I make do.
Once he’s gone, the house becomes even more alien. A cavernous space with too many windows and too many doors. Thankfully, I’ve got lots to keep me occupied. I’ll book the flights first, then pack.
I go into the lounge and sit cross-legged on the sofa with my iPad. After ten minutes or so of searching, I finally find three flights from London Heathrow to Stockholm’s Arlanda Airport, flying Business Class with Scandinavian Airlines at 6.40 am tomorrow. I’d hoped for something sooner, but it will have to do. I book the flights and fill in mine and Will’s details. All I need now are Steve’s, and we’ll be good to go. I won’t be able to relax until we’re all on the plane.
Now, I have to pack. Still holding my iPad, I’m about to get up off the sofa when the gate bell rings. Its chime echoes through my body. I stay seated, unable to move. It rings once more, sounding louder to me this time, discordant, setting my teeth on edge. I’ll ignore it. If it isn’t Will or Steve, then it isn’t anyone I want to talk to. At least whoever it is isn’t right outside the front door – they’re beyond the electric gates. They can’t get in. Anyway, it can’t be Fin. He wouldn’t ring the bell, would he?
My phone buzzes in my handbag. Probably Will with Steve’s passport details. I reach into my bag and pull out my mobile. Sian’s face flashes up on my phone screen. I really don’t have time to talk to her and the gate bell is ringing again. I almost ignore Sian’s call, but maybe I need to hear a friendly voice to quell the total panic that’s threatening to overwhelm me.
I slide my finger across the screen and hold the phone to my ear. ‘Sian, hi.’
‘Hey. Where are you?’ she asks.
‘Erm, I’m at home, but look, it’s not a good time at the moment.’
‘I’m outside.’
‘What, here?’
‘Yeah. Parked outside your gate like a loser. Been pressing the buzzer for ages. What you doing in there?’
My pulse slows and I let out a breath. ‘Hang on.’ I get up and go into the hall, press the gate remote and open the front door. The gates swing open and Sian grins and waves as she drives in. Even though I don’t really have time for her visit, I have to admit I’m relieved she’s here. We’ll have a quick five-minute chat and then I’ll make up some excuse about having to go to the bistro or something.
She gets out of her car and totters over towards me in crazy high heels. She looks even prettier than usual, like she’s ready for a night on the town.
We kiss on the cheek and she follows me in.
‘Nice footwear,’ I say. ‘You look gorgeous.’
‘I treated myself this afternoon,’ she says. ‘Me and Remy have been saving so hard for the wedding, I couldn’t stand it any longer – went crazy in Westbourne with our joint-account visa card. He’s going to kill me.’
‘It’s done now,’ I say. ‘Remy won’t mind. He loves you. And he’ll love you even more when he sees the hotness.’
‘Ha-ha. Thanks, lovely. Is it wine o’clock yet?’ she asks as we head into the kitchen.
‘Sian, of course it is. It’s after ten!’
‘Really? God, sorry. Didn’t realise it was so late.’
‘Anyway, look, I have to go out in a minute.’
She pulls a face. ‘I really need to talk to you.’
I don’t like turning her away when she’s been such a good friend, but I don’t have a choice. ‘Sorry, but I have to go to Blackwell’s – staff crisis.’
‘Just half a glass of wine? A quarter of a glass? A fifth? Five minutes of your time? Ple-e-ease.’
‘Okay. Come on then,’ I say, striding through to the kitchen.
‘Where’s your gorgeous do
ggie?’ she asks.
Her words are like a punch to my heart, but I don’t have time to explain. ‘Er, he’s out with Will.’
‘At the bistro?’ She raises her eyebrows. ‘Wouldn’t have thought he’d be allowed in there – health and safety and all that.’
I go to the fridge, lift out a half-empty bottle of Pinot Grigio, reach for a glass and fill it half full. It’s stingy of me, not giving her a full glass but I really should be packing right now.
‘Thanks,’ she says, taking her wine and sipping. ‘Mm, that’s good.’
I envy her. I would love a glass myself, but I need to keep a clear head. ‘What did you want to talk about?’ I ask.
‘Shall we sit in the comfy chairs?’ Sian walks over to the kitchen sofa, kicks her heels off and sprawls out, putting her feet up.
I don’t think she’s grasped how quickly I need her to leave.
‘God, that’s better,’ she says. ‘Love my new shoes, but I haven’t worn them in yet. Feet are killing me.’
I hover by her side.
‘Sit down,’ she says with a grin. ‘You’re making me nervous standing over me like that.’
I do as she asks, sitting down on the edge of the sofa, but I decide to be blunt. ‘Sian, you know I love you, but I really need to–’
‘Yep, yep, sorry. I’ll get to the point and leave you to your evening.’
‘Is it the wedding?’ I ask. ‘Is everything okay with Remy?’
‘Yeah, that’s all fine. No, I wanted to talk to you about Fin’s wife.’
It takes a few seconds for her words to sink in. Once they do, my pulse quickens and my cheeks heat up. ‘His wife? You mean the accident?’ What can she possibly know about it?
She nods, her eyes bright. ‘I know who did it.’
The air goes out of my body. Oh my God. Sian knows about Fin. But maybe she doesn’t. Maybe she’s just guessing. I take a breath. ‘What? How?’ My voice sounds wooden. Fake. ‘You know who killed her?’
She nods and takes another sip of her wine. ‘Yup.’ A smile forms on her lips. ‘It was me,’ she says, her gaze unwavering.
I stare back at her, not quite understanding what she’s saying.
‘Are the pieces falling into place yet?’ she asks.
‘Is this a wind-up, Sian? Because, it’s not very funny, and it doesn’t sound the kind of thing you’d normally joke about.’ And then something occurs to me. ‘Has Fin put you up to this?’ I lower my voice. ‘Are you in danger?’ I get to my feet and glance around the kitchen, checking to see if he’s somehow managed to get in.
‘The look on your face, Anna. It’s priceless,’ she says, standing up and downing the last of her wine. ‘No, it’s not a joke. It’s true.’ She places her empty glass on the arm of the sofa. ‘I took the side of Katie’s head off with a speedboat. It was very satisfying. Made a loud crunching sound. Lots of blood.’
‘You?’ Bile rises up into my throat and I try to swallow it back down, the acid burning a path to my heart.
‘Yeah, me. Me and Fin, we’re kind of together. Actually, not “kind of”. We are together. As in “in love”.
My legs suddenly feel unsteady. I back away from Sian and lean against the kitchen island. This is too much to take in. Sian is my best friend. She can’t have done this. She can’t.
Chapter Twenty Two
‘Sian. No.’ It’s like I’ve entered another dimension. ‘What have you done?’
‘Haven’t you been listening?’ She drops the smile and shakes her head. ‘Fin and I are together. And I have to say, I’m a much better girlfriend than you ever were. You never supported him. Never understood him.’
I run a hand over the top of my head and try to force some air into my lungs. ‘You’re saying you and Fin are together? That you killed his wife?’
She tilts her head and looks at me, her lips pursed for a moment. ‘After you broke up with Fin and ran home to your parents, I went round to see him, to find out what had happened.’
‘I told you what happened. He wanted me to get rid of the baby.’
‘Okay, well, I’ll be honest. I went to see Fin because I knew that with you finally out of the picture, I might actually have a chance with him.’
I flinch at her bluntness. She may as well have punched me in the face. ‘You liked Fin even back then? When we were together? For how long?’ Who is this woman? How did she morph so suddenly from my lovely friend into this bitter stranger standing before me? Did she really kill Fin’s wife? Is she a murderer?
‘Course I liked him,’ Sian sneers. ‘Every girl in the whole damn town liked him. Only you were too stupid to know what you had. And after you finally left, we grew close. But our relationship was always a secret. It had to be, because he told me about your genius plan.’
‘He told you what exactly?’ I glare at her, noticing harsh new angles and expressions in her face – ones I’d never been aware of before.
‘You know what he told me - he told me about the plan. I never would have thought you had it in you, Anna. It really didn’t sound like the sort of thing you’d go for.’
‘It wasn’t. It was his idea, never mine! That crazy plan was the reason I eventually left him. He was delusional. Still is.’
Her eyes narrow. ‘You really think so?’
‘Of course! Do you actually think I’d marry someone for money? Let alone kill them.’
‘Yeah, well,’ she takes a step towards me and her gaze intensifies, ‘that’s why I took you to the tennis club with me when you came back from Sweden. I made out I was taking you there to cheer you up, take your mind off things. But there was another reason.’
My skin goes cold at her words and my whole body begins to tremble. Please don’t let her say what I think she’s about to say. I grip the counter top to steady myself. Grip it so hard, my knuckles go white. I want her to stop talking. I don’t want to hear her say it.
‘Fin realised you might not have the balls to go through with the plan, so I told him I’d give you a helping hand. Fin and I handpicked William Blackwell for you. Thought he would be a prime candidate with all his lovely millions. And he’s not flashy with it. He’s boring and subtle. Like you. So, I’m afraid it wasn’t fate that we met Will and Remy at the tennis club one sunny afternoon. It was simply part of the plan.’
‘No.’ My voice is small, barely audible.
‘Yeah. ‘Fraid so.’ Her eyes sparkle and a smile creeps back onto her face.
The weight of her admission slams into me like I’m being run over by a freight train. Each of her words a metal wheel to crush my heart, my body, my whole life. Sian is enjoying my horror. My revulsion. She’s loving this. All I can think of is that my marriage is a sham. A device for someone else’s greed and depravity. How can I tell Will that our relationship was engineered by my ex-boyfriend? It will break him. Break us.
‘And what about Remy?’ I ask, my voice quavering.
‘Ah, Remy. He’s sweet enough. He’s easy to fake it with.’
‘So, the wedding plans? I take it you’re not going to marry him, then.’
‘He’s not rich enough to bother with. Remy was just my cover story. You know – two girls at the tennis club meet two guys, become an inseparable foursome. It’s all puke-worthy and perfect. Plus, I get to keep an eye on you, and Remy tells me all the stuff going on with Will. It’s funny, I heard about all your life-changing decisions before you ever did – I knew when Will was going to propose, that he was going to give you his mum’s engagement ring, that once you got married Steve was giving you the house and two-thirds of Will’s inheritance. Will and Remy tell each other everything. And I mean everything.’ She smirks, and my hurt and shock and betrayal and fear are replaced with a flash of rage. How dare she manipulate my life like that. How bloody dare she.
‘You . . .’ There isn’t a word in the English language bad enough to describe what I think about Sian right now.
‘Yeah, yeah. I’m a bitch. I know. But you . . . God, you’re suc
h an annoying cow, Anna. Being your friend was like signing up to a life in the shadows. I’m attractive enough. I can get a guy if I want. But you were always more beautiful, more exotic, more likeable, more clever.’
‘That’s total crap.’
‘Is it?’ She gives a dry laugh. ‘Anna, everything has always been about you. About your life, your boyfriend, your drama.’
I shake my head and loosen my grip on the counter top, unable to process everything she’s telling me. I thought she was my friend, on my side. When did she start hating me? ‘So,’ I say, trying to keep the tremble out of my voice, ‘you and Fin are what? Lovers?’
‘Fin and I are more than that. We’re soulmates. We should have been together from the start. He admits you were a mistake. You were too weak and pathetic to be with someone like him.’
‘A psycho, you mean. Because that’s what he is. And by the sounds of it, that’s what you are, too.’
‘No, Anna. We’re just not tied to convention, that’s all – what’s wrong, what’s right. Society has told us all this stuff we can and can’t do, but society is hypocritical. Look at all the people in power who do this stuff. But they do it sneakily – fraud, embezzlement, theft. Bankers and directors taking massive bonuses, politicians taking backhanders and fiddling their expenses. Everyone does it. They just don’t admit it.’
‘I don’t do it. Nor does Will. And murder is a little different to fiddling expenses.’
‘Yeah, well, that’s because you’re both multi-millionaires. It’s easy to be good when you’ve been handed everything on a plate. You don’t need to take the low road.’
‘I was on the low road, remember? I had nothing, but I didn’t go around killing for money, deceiving the people who loved me. I don’t care about Will’s money, anyway. We could be penniless and I’d still want to be with him.’
‘Bollocks. How long did you and Fin last when you were living in a shed with fuck all?’
I catch my breath for a second. Does she have a point? Did Fin and I fall apart because we were poor? Sure, that didn’t help, but our problems went much, much deeper than that. ‘No,’ I say, shaking my head. ‘No, Sian. You’re wrong. Our break up was nothing to do with money. It was about something else entirely.’
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