The Other Side Of The Wall: A Gripping Psychological Thriller

by Andrea Mara

  “Listen, man, if it’s this big a job, I might see about getting someone in. I can’t be pulling you away from your other work.”

  “You’re grand, Sam. I don’t have much lined up for the next few weeks and I can fit it in around the work here. Listen, I’ve said it before. It’s the least I can do. Your mam was very good to me after my mam died – she might not have approved of my da, but she didn’t let it get in the way.”

  Claire didn’t approve of Michael’s dad? Sam raises his eyebrows in a bid to hear more but Michael has turned back to the pan. He wanders into the sitting room – it’s spotless now, like last night never happened.

  “Do you think any of the neighbours heard the music – did you get any dirty looks when you were in and out today?” he calls back to Michael.

  “Nah, but I didn’t bump into anyone either. You said you thought next door are away – they’re the only ones who’d have heard it. Don’t be worrying. As long as Kate doesn’t suss you, you’re grand.”

  Kate. Was he supposed to Skype the kids tonight? He looks at his watch and picks up the iPad. Michael is singing in the kitchen. Maybe it would be better to do it from upstairs, he thinks, as he heads for his bedroom, followed by the smell of frying onions.

  After dinner, Michael suggests they have a few cans but Sam just shakes his head. No more beer on a school night for him. Michael decides to have one anyway, and flops down on the couch, switching on the TV.

  Sam hesitates in the doorway, wondering how many beers Michael is going to have. Will he be able to drive back into town? It’s probably rude to ask. Feck. Maybe he’s waiting to be invited to stay over again tonight.

  “Listen, if you’re kipping here another night that’s cool. I’m sure you’re wrecked after all the work today and don’t fancy driving back to town?”

  Michael looks over at him but doesn’t reply.

  Shit, maybe it sounds like he’s expecting him to stay over and get more work done on the house tomorrow.

  “Or I mean I can give you a lift in to town later if you want to have a few beers – you could pick up your car another time? Whatever suits you best . . . ” Sam trails off.

  Michael is still looking at him with that weird unblinking stare he does sometimes. He takes a swig of beer.

  “Yeah, I was thinking it’d be as easy if I stay over again,” he says then. “I’ll need to be up early to get a start on that spare room if I’m going to get some of it done before a meeting I have at eleven. Bit of a problem to sort out.” He turns back to the TV.

  Sam sits down too but the smell of the open beer can turns his stomach and he moves further away. There’s a programme about cars on TV – possibly the least interesting programme Sam has ever seen. He takes out his phone and scrolls through Facebook instead. Kate has put up pictures of the boys on the beach – they look happy and healthy and brown. Only four more days till he’s down there with them, and suddenly he’s looking forward to it so much it almost hurts.

  Chapter 49

  Sam – Tuesday, July 12th

  Tonight’s offering is another sausage dish of some kind – according to the smell that’s filling the entire downstairs when Sam gets in from work. Michael’s repertoire appears to be confined to meat that can be cooked in a frying pan. He shouldn’t complain – it’s better than coming home to nothing at all. Although a quiet evening to himself wouldn’t be such a bad thing at this stage.

  He sneaks upstairs to change before going in to say hello, and stops to sit on the bed for a few quiet minutes catching up on online news. When he hears footsteps on the stairs he jumps up and puts away the phone, like a guilty spouse caught cheating.

  Michael is standing in the doorway.

  “Oh, I didn’t hear you come in – dinner’s just about ready. You still eat bangers and mash, right? Remember my mam used to make it for us all the time?”

  Sam nods. “Yeah, sorry, just couldn’t wait to get out of the suit. Long old day. I think I’m still feeling the effects of Sunday night.”

  “Come on, bit of food and you’ll be grand. I was going to get out a DVD for later – anything you fancy?”

  Sam blinks. So Michael is staying again. It probably makes sense . . . but still. He stifles a yawn and follows his cousin downstairs for more sausages. He never thought he’d miss Kate’s insistence on vegetables with every meal, but suddenly he has a longing for some broccoli.

  Watching Michael settle down afterwards with the remote and a beer, Sam braves asking if he’s staying over. God, now it feels like an awkward date. Michael nods and keeps flicking through the channels, but then he stops and turns to Sam.

  “Actually, I might just stay full-time for a few weeks. It makes more sense, doesn’t it? I can get all your rewiring done – it’ll save you hundreds of quid, and I don’t need to be worrying about buses and getting in and out of town. I’ll even cook you dinner every night.” He laughs.

  Sam’s not sure what’s funny but he laughs too.

  “That’s settled then,” Michael says. “I’ll run into the flat tomorrow and pick up some of my stuff.”

  He puts on a programme about UK social welfare cheats and settles back to watch – clearly the conversation is over.

  Sam stares at the TV but he’s not seeing the picture. How did that just happen? Michael’s grand craic for a night or two, but a few weeks? Maybe the rewiring wouldn’t take as long as he thought, or Michael would get some new paid work that he’d have to say yes to. And surely he’d have to accept payment if he was going to do a few weeks of work on the house – actually, that might be a way out.

  “So listen,” he says, “if it’s a much bigger job than you thought and it’s going to take a few weeks, I insist on paying the going rate – I can’t let you work for nothing. So either I pay you, or we call it quits now – is that fair?”

  “Tell you what, you can pay me in kind. One skill for another – deal?”

  Sam has no idea what’s coming next, but he nods because he can’t think what else to do.

  “Computers,” Michael continues. “You were always good at them, because of that computer your old pair bought you when we were kids. My mam couldn’t afford something like that. And there were no computers in our school – do you remember that time I was over in your house and I didn’t know how to use a mouse, and you were laughing at me, asking why I hadn’t learned it in school?”

  Sam’s face grows hot. There’s no way he had laughed at him – at least, not in a mean way. Anyway, how was he to know they didn’t have computer classes in Michael’s school? “I don’t really remember that . . . ”

  Michael shakes his head. “Really? You thought it was hilarious. Like the time you were going on a ski trip, and we were going to a farm in Wicklow – you went on and on about it, like it was the funniest thing ever. But look, no hard feelings – I get it. When you go to a school like Mount Derry, it’s like living in a bubble. You’ve no idea what it’s like out in the real world. Not your fault.” He reaches across and pats Sam’s shoulder. “But anyway, yeah, with the computers – I can do the basics but that’s about it – how about if I do your rewiring, and you give me lessons in computers? Maybe on how to invest money too?”

  Sam stares at his cousin – this is the last thing he expected to hear. “Well, sure, but the investment side could take years to learn – like I did courses and exams after college and I’ve been doing them throughout my years at work too, as well as all the day-to-day experience I get at the office. It’s probably not something you could learn in a few weeks . . . ”

  “You mean it’s only for college boys, is that right?”

  Sam shakes his head. That’s not what he’d said at all. Is it? “No, no – I don’t mean that. Just that it’d take more than a few weeks.”

  “Well, let’s start with the computer stuff and see how we go – how about that? I’m not as bad as I was – I’ve figured out how to use a mouse.” He laughs again.

  Sam gets up to fetch his laptop. This
is going to be hell.

  Two hours later, he’s eating his words – Michael is a fast learner, and it’s far more interesting than the TV programme on social welfare cheats. Michael’s even put down the beer and moved to the kitchen table to focus on the lesson – the two of them sit together, poring over Sam’s screen.

  “Actually,” Sam says, “I have an old laptop upstairs – I think it’s still in pretty good nick. I can set it up for you if you like?”

  “Cheers, man, but that’s too much – I can’t take a computer from you.”

  Sam brushes off the protests and goes to get it. After a few minutes it’s up and running, side by side with Sam’s on the kitchen table.

  “Thanks for that – I feel like I’ve been taking handouts from you and your family my whole life, and here we are, still at it.”

  “Not at all, it’s just an old computer – sure we’ve more than enough devices lying around the house. The kids won’t even miss it.”

  Michael laughs at that but Sam isn’t quite sure why.

  “Do you remember the time your mam gave me your old bicycle – the red BMX?” Michael says. “She meant well, but it was way too small for me. And my mam wouldn’t get rid of it because she didn’t want to offend Claire. So it sat in the living room, taking up space and gathering dust for two years. One day I just took it out and sold it and my mam never asked where it was gone. Should have done it two years earlier.”

  Sam remembers the bike. “Ah, that’s a shame, I didn’t realise you never used it. So kind of a pain more than a present then . . . My mum meant well though . . . ”

  Michael claps him on the back. “Course she did. She was always trying to help, even when she got it wrong. She always felt sorry for me about my da, you know?”

  “So did I. I remember feeling so sad the first time mum told me about what happened – you were the only person I knew who had lost a parent and it just seemed awful.”

  “What did she tell you?”

  Sam shifts in the chair. “Like, just about what happened – about the car accident.”

  Michael laughs. “So she never told you the truth?”

  Something in the laugh makes Sam think he might not want to know. “That’s what she told me.”

  “Herself and Bella – a pair of them in it. My da didn’t die in any car crash. He was in Mountjoy.”

  Sam swivels around to face his cousin. “Oh Jesus, I never knew that. What was he . . . I mean . . .”

  “What was he in for? You’re grand, that’s all anyone wants to know when someone is inside. He was in for arson, racketeering, and one count of murder.”

  Sam’s stomach does a flip. How had his mother never told him this? He tries to keep his face neutral. “Are you serious? I’m sorry, man – that’s nearly worse than – well, I don’t know . . . ”

  “You mean the truth is worse than the lie? More like a rock and a hard place, I’d say. Dead da or convict da – not a great set of options either way, is it? I wonder who gets to decide our lot in life. Like, why does one person get a successful father with plenty of money and a big house and Latin lessons in a posh school, while the other person gets a shitty flat and a da in prison? Strange, isn’t it, when you think about it?”

  Sam shifts again on the hard kitchen chair. “I guess it’s a testament to you and your mum that you came through it and did so well for yourself.” Oh my God, that sounded so patronising.

  “Do you think so? An electrician, living in the same shitty flat? While you’re out here in the fancy house with the gorgeous wife and the big job? I don’t know if things really came that good.”

  The kitchen is very still. Sam wants to reply but everything that comes to mind sounds trite and he’s not sure Michael really wants an answer. An email pops into his inbox, breaking the silence.

  “Bloody work emails at this time of night.”

  “You have work email on your home laptop too?” Michael asks.

  Sam turns the screen to show him. “Yes, see here, I have two email accounts open – one is work and one is personal. I have access to my work drives too, so I can catch up at home when I need to. It’s a pain in some ways because you’re always on, but it means you’re not tied to being in the office.”

  Michael wants to see how it works and Sam shows him. This is a hell of a lot easier than talking about his dad. Jesus, who knew? Well, his mum obviously, and she’d gone to her grave without telling him. And his dad must have known too. He looks at Michael, engrossed in the laptop, and wonders what kinds of conversations went on back then that he knew nothing about. But he’s not going to ask him now – that’s more than enough family history for tonight.

  Chapter 50

  Sam – Sunday, July 17th

  Seth’s voice is still ringing in Sam’s ears when he arrives home from Galway on Sunday evening.

  “You’re the best daddy in the world – there’s nobody you love more then me, Mum and Jamie – isn’t that right, Dad?”

  He had nodded his agreement and hugged Seth and said, “Yes, absolutely – there’s nobody else I love more than you three.” An uncomfortable image of Nina had flashed up in his mind as he spoke, and again when he hugged Jamie. The goodbye kiss from Kate had been muted. Kate is the only person who can make him feel bad for something she did. Surely disappearing for most of the weekend was worse than forgetting Seth’s birthday present? As if he didn’t have enough to do between the house and work and now Michael’s computer lessons. Though he’d decided against mentioning the new lodger to Kate. Next weekend maybe.

  Inside, the lodger is sitting at the kitchen table, busy at his laptop. A smell of stale cooking mixed with cigarette smoke hangs in the air and Sam opens the kitchen window. Tentatively he reminds Michael that he’ll need to smoke outdoors – Kate will go mad if she comes home and realises. Michael is apologetic, and says something about not wanting to offend Princess Kate – Sam doesn’t hear what exactly because he’s already on his way upstairs to wash off the journey.

  A text arrives while he’s in the bathroom – Nina, suggesting she could meet him at his house, since Kate is away. That’s never going to work with Michael there. No. We’ll have to stick to your apartment – my cousin is staying. They agree that Sam will call to her tomorrow night instead, and he puts the phone down. And really it’s easier this way – having her out to the house seems like an even bigger betrayal.

  Downstairs, Michael is still at the laptop, opening a can of beer. Sam says no at first when he offers him one, but then changes his mind. Why not, after the weekend he’s just had?

  Sighing heavily, he pulls up a chair and opens up his own laptop.

  “Checking work emails?” Michael asks.

  Sam nods.

  “You’re very quiet – everything okay?” Michael asks.

  Sam shrugs. “Ah, just tired. I might get an early night.”

  “Everything all right in Galway? How’re Kate and the kids?”

  “They’re fine. To be honest, I’d say they’re perfectly happy down there, and I just upset the routine.”

  Michael closes his computer and turns to Sam. “Go on – what happened?”

  “Nothing really. Well, Kate went nuts at me because I forgot Seth’s present. Like, it was a genuine mistake, and I’ve just been up to my eyes with work, but she acted like I did it on purpose to annoy her. Then on Saturday she just disappeared for the whole day and left me with the boys. But of course I’m the one in trouble.”

  Michael goes to the fridge to line up the next two beers, though Sam is only halfway through his first can. “Listen, Kate’s tough on you – she always has been. Don’t be minding her.”

  “You think she’s tough on me?”

  Michael laughs. “Why, do you think she isn’t? Jesus, she’s always been like that – right back since you two met. I was surprised when you ended up together, to be honest – I didn’t see you with a ballbreaker like her.”

  Sam sits up straighter in the chair. “Really? I always t
hought we were well matched.”

  Michael laughs again. “Your mother thought you were well matched because Kate prodded you along when you were sleepwalking your way through college, not because you were any kind of perfect couple. I can’t believe this is news to you.”

  Sam sips his beer. Maybe there’s some truth in it.

  “You always had your pick of the girls back then,” Michael continues. “It’s amazing what a posh accent and straight teeth can you get you.”

  “I don’t know – I always thought Kate fancied you. Remember the day we met – I was sure it was you she was interested in.”

  “I wouldn’t have noticed if she was. That day was a blur. Poor Mam.”

  Shit. What kind of a tool brings up a funeral in casual conversation? “Sorry, Michael – of course, an awful day for you.”

  Michael fixes his gaze on Sam, searching his face for something. “You know, I never held it against you.”

  Sam lets go the beer can he’s holding. Suddenly it feels very cold. “What do you mean?” But he knows.

  “About Mam. About what she did. I know you blamed yourself for not stopping her but she knew exactly what she was doing, and she waited till I was away – that was deliberate. So don’t be blaming yourself – because I don’t.”