by K. L. Slater
Martyn was obviously a clean-freak and it crossed Louise’s mind she’d have to really buck her ideas up to come anywhere near his slightly obsessive standards.
Back in the bedroom, the shower was still going so she had a quick look in the wardrobe.
She’d never seen so many suits hanging together. Expensive fabrics and designer labels – it was a revelation. Martyn rarely wore anything but jeans and a white T-shirt when they were out.
But he had explained to her about his exciting business expansion. He was dealing with some very wealthy and influential investors right now who could make or break his franchise bid. She didn’t see him during the day, but he’d told her about lavish business lunches in the best restaurants in town with clients and investors.
Louise knew how important it was to look the part, even in her own insignificant job.
‘We could be millionaires this time next year,’ he’d told her on more than one occasion.
We could be millionaires. She’d loved how it sounded when he said things like that.
Martyn was everything she wanted in a man and she was determined to make their relationship work. Whatever it took.
In reality, that meant tolerating his strange ways. She gathered pretty quickly that he was a proud man. He’d asked her not to come to his gym until the massive refurbishment programme had been completed.
‘I want to see your face light up when you see what I’ve achieved,’ he told her bashfully. ‘People don’t seem to understand that success doesn’t happen overnight. It’s a slow process.’
He would also sometimes pay for a very modest bed and breakfast when they wanted to stay the night together. It seemed ridiculous when he’d got such an amazing pad sitting empty, but it was just one of his little quirks.
Needless to say, however, her curiosity was piqued. She tried to push away the warning whispers in her mind, but they wouldn’t be silenced.
One day, on a slow afternoon at work, against her better judgement, she googled Martyn’s name. After a few seconds, the page loaded with search results and it became clear from the summary of each article that most of them referred to a Martyn Hardy who had been involved in a litany of financial disasters.
Her hand shaking, she clicked on a couple and read about a Martyn Hardy, the same age as her Martyn, living in Nottingham, who had appeared in court to face fraudulent charges and been discharged due to insufficient evidence.
She read about a Martyn Hardy who had been attacked and beaten by unknown masked men after running a house-building business into the ground and claiming not to have realised that investor funds had been spent on inappropriate items.
She scanned down the page to see dozens of reports, all covering the same awful stories. She pressed a button and the printer next to her began to clank and gurgle as it spat out a hard copy of the devastating results.
She took a breath then, and instead of reading through each item, she clicked on the tiny cross at the top right to close the page of search results down.
Feeling sick, she cleared it with her manager to leave work early, and soon as she reached her car, she texted Martyn.
Need to see you right now. I can come to the gym or meet somewhere but have to talk. L x
Twenty minutes later, they were staring at each other across a table in Starbucks. Her heart hammered inside her chest and the sick feeling had increased threefold.
‘For God’s sake, Louise, what is it?’ Martyn’s face looked creased with worry. ‘You’ve dragged me away from work, so it must be important, but you’re just… sitting there, saying nothing.’
Wordlessly, she took the printed sheet from her handbag, unfolded it and slid it across the table.
He picked it up and barely glanced at the printed words before his face drained of colour.
‘This is… it’s not what you think,’ he said. ‘If you don’t trust me, I’d rather you came and asked me than dig around in the dirt like this. I’m disappointed, Louise.’
‘You’re disappointed?’ She felt a stab of annoyance. ‘How do you think I felt when I saw all this?’ She prodded at the paper with a finger.
‘Will you let me explain?’ He stroked her hand, and despite everything, she felt a flood of affection towards him. His voice cracked slightly as he went on. ‘Am I at least worth a listen?’
‘Of course!’ She sighed. ‘Martyn, I love you, but when I saw this, I thought—’
‘I know what you must have thought, I just wish you’d asked me.’
‘I can’t ask you about something I don’t know! Why didn’t you tell me?’
She saw his jaw clench, but his voice remained calm.
‘It was all a conspiracy against me, Lou. All of it.’ He pushed the paper away. ‘People jealous of my business success and trying to squeeze me out of the industry.’
‘One of the reports said you were involved in house-building, not fitness.’
‘It was just a spin-off from my main business.’ He wafted her comment away. ‘You know what the newspapers can be like, taking something small and magnifying it for effect.’
‘But the investors’ money… the fraud allegations. What did—’
He shook his head and she stopped speaking.
‘I’m going to ask you something, Lou, and when I hear your answer, I’ll know whether we have a future together.’
She swallowed hard. Was he threatening her that he’d finish things? In her mind, the bright future sparkling on the horizon started to slip away like the last vestiges of a sunset.
‘Do you love me enough to believe in me? To take me as you find me now, not on the basis of these… these lies?’ He grabbed the paper and screwed it up.
‘Of course I do. But you understand I had to ask? We shouldn’t have any secrets from each other, Martyn, we’re going to be married.’
‘I do understand, darling, of course I do. But I’m not your average guy. I’m not your nine-to-five regular sheep who’ll give you a mediocre life. I want more than that and I will work my socks off to give you the best I can.’ He sighed and squeezed her hand. ‘I’ve been betrayed by a lot of people, Louise, including women. I could go through each of those stories you found and give you a perfectly watertight explanation, but what would be the good in that?’
She blinked at him.
‘Our time is now, not what’s happened in the past. I love that you understand me and believe in me, and you are going to be the most amazing wife and mother to my children. Please don’t let the jealousy and lies of others ruin what we have.’
She squeezed his hand back, emotional at his words.
‘You mentioned women. Was there someone special who—’
‘There have been girls before you, but there’ll be nobody else for me now, ever. You’re my queen, can’t you see that? I want everything shiny and new for you. Even that flat feels tainted to me now. I respect you too much to take you back there.’
The part of her that had wanted to scrutinise his past, the part that wanted answers… she could feel it growing weaker by the second. He wasn’t trying to hide that he had a chequered history, but he was asking her to put her faith firmly in the man he was today. Was that so bad? She loved and believed in him and that hadn’t changed. Did she really want to let the faceless enemies in his past ruin their wonderful future together?
‘I’m going to make a big ask of you, Louise.’
She looked up from her hands, gazed into the deep, genuine eyes of the man she loved and believed in.
‘Please don’t look back any more. Don’t do any more Internet searches, don’t listen to anything you might hear about me. You are my future. You are the only thing that matters to me and I will make you proud. Can you promise me you’ll leave all those old lies buried?’
‘I promise,’ she whispered. And she meant it.
* * *
A few days later, when Martyn mentioned they might start looking for their own place, she couldn’t control her excitement.
&nb
sp; ‘Take a look on Rightmove, see what’s on the market and find a few places you like the look of, and we can take it from there,’ Martyn said.
She fought a twinge of disappointment.
‘I thought that would be something we could do together,’ she said gently.
‘And we will. It’s just that I’ve got so many meetings over the next couple of weeks, it’s going to be virtually impossible for me to find time.’ He tucked a stray lock of hair back behind her ear. ‘I don’t want to wait. You’re too important to me.’
Louise glanced at the sparkling diamond on her finger and smiled.
She wanted Martyn to see that she was someone he could rely upon. She regretted her probing into his past, giving credence to people who just wanted to see him fail. All she wanted to focus on now was their future together.
‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘I’ll sort it.’
* * *
‘It’s lovely,’ Alice said, looking around Louise and Martyn’s new flat, which sat just a stone’s throw from the River Trent. ‘You found this place yourself?’
‘Not exactly.’ Louise sniffed, adjusting a window blind. ‘I saw it online and made the first viewing, and then Martyn came with me. We both loved it.
‘The rent must be a pretty penny, being so near to the river.’
‘Ooh, let me show you the boiling water tap. It’s a marvel,’ Louise said suddenly, moving away. ‘We don’t need a kettle any more.’
She turned the tap on and showed Alice how easy it was to make a cup of tea without filling and boiling a kettle. She was keen to get off the subject of money as soon as possible, suspecting that her sister was likely to ask awkward questions such as who had paid the deposit on the flat, and were they going halves on the rent.
Alice could never begin to understand Martyn the way Louise did, and Louise wouldn’t even try to begin explaining.
He had told her how his money was tied up in knots at the moment. He said he’d had sleepless nights worrying how he could get his hands on a deposit for the new flat.
‘It’s only a few weeks’ leeway I need, and then I’ll be awash with cash,’ he’d said glumly. ‘But we’ve no choice, I’m afraid. We’ll have to wait.’
Louise understood that he was the kind of man who liked to be independent. He wanted to be the one to provide a good life for them. She didn’t want to undermine that, but it seemed silly to wait when she had the cash from her dad’s modest inheritance.
When she’d suggested using it, his face had lit up initially and then become serious again.
‘I can’t let you use that money.’ He’d shaken his head. ‘It’s not right.’
But she’d insisted. ‘It’s for our future. We’re in this together, Martyn. I want to support you until the gym franchise project is sorted. Then our problems will be over.’
He’d held her face in both hands and kissed her gently on the lips.
‘You are so special, do you know that?’ She’d smiled, basking in the glow of his compliment. ‘I love you so much.’
She’d paid the deposit and the first month’s rent on the flat, just to tide them over.
‘I’ll be paying your dad’s money back with interest soon,’ Martyn had assured her. ‘I give you my word on that.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
ALICE
I leave the school and walk quickly back to the main road, where I realise I’ve just missed a tram.
I notice there are people waiting at the stop, and see that the next one is due in just two minutes’ time.
I’m distracted during the journey into town; I don’t really notice anything outside the window at all. I’m too busy going over the conversation with Mrs Booth.
Before I left, she made me promise I’d tell her if I had any more concerns about Archie, and in the meantime, she said she would be watching him a bit more closely in class, just to ensure nobody was upsetting him in any way.
She seemed so certain that there was no problem with bullying at school; just that Archie was a solitary sort of boy and consequently hadn’t got many friends.
This seemed a logical conclusion but left me with a dilemma. If kids at school weren’t thumping Archie and leaving bruises, then who was?
Louise’s scowling face flashes in front of my eyes and I turn to look out of the window to escape it.
Archie’s nightmares, the angry shadows he spoke of the night he wet the bed… was it just normal childish fears, or was somebody really scaring him?
When the tram reaches the centre of town, I shuffle down the aisle with everyone else, silently questioning why I’ve come here. As I step down onto the kerb and look across the square, I see what I’m sure is James’s back entering a coffee shop on the other side.
I usually avoid coffee shops like the plague. They tend to be a hive of noise, overpriced coffee and a lack of seats. It sounds stupid, but I always think people are looking at me in these sorts of places. Judging me.
I look down at my new jeans and coat I bought online. I’ve no reason to believe that anyone is thinking badly of me. These sorts of fears are like a program in my head that took over when all the bad stuff happened and has been running ever since.
I don’t need it any more. I don’t want it to be part of my fresh start.
After the accident, I talked it over with my therapist and she pointed out that actually, people were usually far too interested in their own lives to notice or indeed care about what my outfit choice for the day might be.
There’s no need for me to feel I’m an imposter amongst normal folk.
Sadly, acknowledging it on an intelligent level, knowing you’re just imagining what people are saying about you, doesn’t make the feelings of inadequacy go away. That takes much longer, but at least I’ve made a start.
I push open the shop door and rise up onto my tiptoes in an attempt to see above the crowd. I scan the room, but no luck.
He came in here, I know it.
At least I felt sure it was him, and yet now, I can’t see anyone who looks similar. Perhaps he was meeting a friend or a work colleague and they slipped out when I looked the other way.
Then the queue shifts and I spot him in the corner, hunched over his phone. Squeezed on one side of a table for four, opposite an amorous young couple so knotted together behind a stack of empty coffee cups and wrappers that they probably haven’t even noticed the room has filled up around them since they first sat down.
The queue to be served snakes along the counter and almost all the way to the door. In the time it takes me to get a drink, he’ll probably have already finished his and left.
I pick up a tray with a used cardboard cup on it and move slowly across the room as if I’m looking for a seat. An older lady gathers her coat and bag nearby and vacates her shared table, but I ignore that space and carry on walking towards the corner.
When I get close to James’s table, I hover a bit, looking vacantly over people’s heads.
He must sense someone is standing fairly close and looks up from texting.
‘Hi!’ I wait for a reaction, but there is none. ‘Do you mind if I…’
‘Course.’ He indicates the chair next to him. ‘Help yourself.’
‘Thanks.’ I set down my tray. The couple opposite don’t even glance my way.
He’s back to his texting now, but his face looks a little flushed and I wonder if he’s recognised me but is too embarrassed to say anything.
We’ve only seen each other from a distance until the tram ride earlier in the week, and now here. Maybe he thought I looked different, more attractive, when I sat in the window of my apartment.
Maybe he’s trying to let me down gently by pretending he doesn’t know who I am.
I feel sick. I should never have come in here.
He glances sideways at me and I sit up a little straighter when I feel my own face glowing. I’m staring and he’s noticed. I can’t just sit here like an idiot.
I pick up the empty coffee cup
and raise it to my mouth, pretending to sip through the plastic lid. I don’t actually allow it to touch my lips; the thought of someone else’s saliva on it makes me feel sick.
I sit like that for a few moments, and then put the cup down and look around. James is absorbed in his phone, the couple opposite in each other, and the surrounding tables are filled with people talking and laughing.
This is what it must feel like to be invisible.
I chew the inside of my cheek and watch my foot dancing at the end of my leg. Jiggling around in time with the thoughts that are coming thick and fast now.
I never asked for James to look up at my window. I wasn’t the one who smiled and waved first. I asked for none of it.
So now, sitting right next to him, why should I be too afraid to make contact? He can’t do all that and then expect me to accept the fact that he is blanking me.
‘It’s quite cold out there,’ I hear myself say, but he doesn’t reply.
The girl opposite unsticks herself from her boyfriend’s lips and stares over at me.
I turn in my chair, away from her and towards James. He looks up.
‘Sorry! I didn’t realise you were speaking to me.’
‘I said it’s cold outside.’ I give him a little smile.
‘Yes, it is. Freezing for the time of year, in fact.’
There! His gaze settles on me just a second too long. I think he’s made the connection.
Part of me squirms with embarrassment, but another part, a part that’s been ignored for a very long time, is taking over.
‘I wasn’t going to say hello, but… well, it sort of feels as if we know each other.’
‘Do we… know each other?’ he says.
I press my lips together and he seems to catch himself.
‘I mean, you look familiar, but…’
I feel my face dropping. Why is he playing this stupid game?
‘I live in Carlton Court, the apartment block next to the tram stop. I see you every morning.’
