Why hadn’t I died in the accident too? If I had, I would never have met that fucking bitch. Billie started all of this; she didn’t want me in the way. She is the evil bitch not me. I hate her. I HATE HER! If she hadn’t come along, I would have been fine. I would have had a different life. I wouldn’t have had Amy but I would have had other children and a husband and a dog and a big house and I’d have had the dream. Everything would have been perfect. But Billie changed all that. I fucking hate her and all she stands for.
And now, I live in fear of Cassie. Cassie tries to take over Ella all the time. She frightens me. She makes me do things that I don’t want to do. She puts words into my mouth. She makes me screw men I don’t want to. She makes Ella cower in the corner. She is evil. NOT ME.
I am not evil.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Later that evening, Charley tried to relax on the settee, watching trashy television. Casually flicking through a magazine, she wondered whether Aaron would stop by later. He was out on a stag night; it had been planned for months, but he’d told her that he wasn’t looking forward to it.
Shock, horror – she was missing him! She couldn’t help but grin. It was strange to think how much he was in her life now, as if he’d never not been a part of it. Every now and then, she still got pangs of missing Dan when she was with him but somehow over the past few weeks, her life had become complete with Aaron. It was as if she was meant to find him. Life was perfect again. She doubted anything could make it better at the moment. Although their relationship was so new, she realised that Aaron could be a keeper. Maybe that was why she’d been so reluctant to get involved with him earlier, on the rebound from Dan: she’d realised how good they would be together so she had kept him at arm’s length until she was ready to move to the next stage. He’d certainly made her life a lot more exciting. And she had Ella to thank for that, despite her going on about the power of a one-night stand.
She thought back to her conversation earlier that morning with Tanya, wondered how much she should be worried about it. Ella seemed to be far more vulnerable than she’d originally thought. Charley had taken her time reading through all the entries in Ella’s notebook. It had felt like a car crash waiting to happen – she’d wanted to read it, knowing that she shouldn’t but knowing that she would.
The first pages spoke of a relationship when Ella was eighteen. A man called Brendan who had abused her – Charley wondered at hearing the name whether it had anything to do with the attack on Brendan Furnival last night, although Lynne had said the police were looking for a man. Ella wrote of Mark and Nina, names familiar to Charley if she thought of their earlier conversations.
In every entry, Ella wrote about people letting her down, rejecting her, abandoning her. Some of the pages had been so hard to decipher that Charley couldn’t make out what she’d been trying to say. It was as if Ella had been writing so fast that she couldn’t get her words down quickly enough. And there was reference to someone called Amy all the way through it. Perhaps that was the baby Tanya had mentioned.
Curiosity overwhelming her, she went over to her laptop, deciding to search out what she could find out about the family. She Googled the name Cassandra Thorpe and made a guess at the year of the accident. Finally after a few attempts, she found what she was after.
The article explained what had happened on that fateful day in 1987. Annoyingly, it seemed that Tanya had indeed told her most of it. There had been a head-on crash on the M6, and Cassandra had been the only survivor from a family of four – a little girl without anyone to look after her.
Charley thought back over her time in Warwick Avenue. During the eight weeks she’d been there, she had never seen Ella with a friend, a boyfriend, or a girlfriend – apart from the girl she had kissed on the stairs – and she hadn’t seen her since. She hadn’t seen any family members, either.
She thought about the diary pages again – maybe they had been written in one desperate melancholy sitting. Could Ella have penned it when she’d had a drink, perhaps, when she was feeling low? Charley knew from listening to some of her clients what they had gone through in their painful lives, so she had no doubt that some of it – even all of it – could be true. But the fact that Ella could be nice one minute, a bit full-on the next, and angry the next, she wondered if she had been having a psychotic episode while she’d written it, feeling upset with the world.
Or maybe she had made it all up.
Or was it all true?
If it was, no wonder Ella felt like everyone had abandoned her. Charley thought back to the time when she’d come tearing down the stairs at her when she had stayed over at Aaron’s. It all made sense now. It was impossible not to feel pity for her. Maybe, once Tanya had called to assess Ella, Charley could make more of an effort to get to know her – encourage her to get help. With Tanya on board once more, Ella could stabilise again.
Her phone rang, and a warm feeling came over her when she saw the name flash up on caller display.
‘Hello, you,’ she said.
‘Can I come over yet?’
She grinned. ‘Okay, fella. You have a deal.’
‘Good, because I’m already outside.’
Charley opened the entrance door and Aaron greeted her with a kiss. ‘I’ve missed you.’
‘You only saw me this afternoon.’
‘Your point being?’
She heard a noise behind her, turned to see Ella walking down the stairs towards them. ‘Hi, Ella,’ she smiled. ‘You off out on the town?’
‘You sound like my mother,’ Ella retorted. ‘What’s it got to do with you?’
‘Ella, I was only trying to –’
‘Considering you haven’t been bothering with me lately, I suggest you mind your own business.’
‘Oh…right. Well –’ The door slammed as Ella left the house. ‘Yeah, thanks. I’ll have a good night too,’ Charley muttered.
‘Yes, you will.’ Aaron pushed her gently towards the door of her flat.
Ella spent a troublesome Saturday alone. She’d returned last night to find Aaron’s car parked outside and then watched as they’d left together this morning. Realising she only had vodka to keep her company, she drank all day as she waited for Charley to return home. She wanted to talk to her. She needed to tell someone what had happened with Brendan.
Images of the attack kept flashing back; her knuckles were still sore from mashing up his face. She struggled to control her anger as she remembered kicking out at him, how good it had felt to pull back her foot and bring it forward with as much force as she could muster. She could see the blood coming from his mouth where she had split his lip more than once. Her eye began to twitch. No, she didn’t want to see it.
In the window now, she looked down onto the avenue, over towards Jake’s house, but he wasn’t there. Ella smirked; served him right for abandoning her, the cheeky bastard.
Next door, she could see Jean. She’d seen so much of her lately: should she show her some more?
She slapped at her face. Of course she shouldn’t.
She undid her dressing gown.
Of course you should.
But then she spotted Aaron’s car coming along the avenue. She peered at her watch, tried to make out the time. Was it late, was it early? Was it Friday still? Was Charley coming in from work? No, it was Saturday – had she lost a whole day again?
Spying her chance as Aaron drove off, leaving Charley alone, she decided to go out to say hello. Maybe she could strike up a conversation long enough to invite her upstairs to her flat. Then she could talk to her. Charley would listen, she was sure.
But after staggering down the hallway, by the time she got to her front door, she lost her nerve. She couldn’t hang around on the landing as if she’d just come out. Charley would see right through that. Instead, she dropped to the floor and listened for her to come in.
; The entrance door opened and closed. Ella held her breath, listening intently, hoping she’d come up to see how she was.
She won’t bother with you!
‘She will, she will, she will,’ Ella mouthed silently. But then she gasped as she heard Charley letting herself into her flat. She scrambled to her feet, opened the door this time, and ran down the stairs, almost tripping in her haste.
There was no one there.
Charley had completely ignored her.
See, what did I tell you? You’re not worth the bother.
Ella ran back into the flat and slammed the door. Clenching her fists tightly, she dug her nails into the palms of her hands. How dare Charley take no notice of her! She wouldn’t be ignored, damn it. Who the fuck did she think she was?
She caught her reflection in the tiny hall mirror: skittish, ugly, angry. In one swift move, she drew a hand across the shelf below it and scattered the miniature bottle collection, sending them crashing to the floor. Some smashed; some bumped and bounced down and into the boxes and containers piled up.
She pulled at her hair and let out a roar.
Charley was putting away food in the fridge when she heard a loud crash. She paused, listening attentively. But there was nothing else. She padded through into the living room and looked outside. It sounded as if someone had bumped into a car or something. But the avenue looked as quiet as usual.
Pausing, she glanced up to the ceiling. Could it have been Ella? Should she go and see if she was okay?
She wasn’t sure what to do. It could be something or nothing. She wasn’t even certain the noise had come from upstairs.
Back in the kitchen, she flicked on the kettle, deciding to make a cup of coffee. If she heard anything else, she would go up.
Paying no attention to the mess in the hall, Ella went through to the closet, closed the door, and sat down. Maybe if she stayed in there, Cassandra would leave her alone. She needed time to get her head straight, too. It wasn’t right being too agitated about Charley.
Who the fuck does she think she is, ignoring you?
‘La la la la la la.’ She covered her ears with her hands. Despite trying not to, she was losing control; knew it could only get worse. Bad things always happened when she was out of control.
You need to teach that bitch a lesson.
‘La la la la la LA!’ Ella banged the back of her head on the wall behind her, again and again.
You know what you must do, don’t you?
‘I can’t.’
Let me in.
‘I can’t!’
Yes, you can.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Ella spent all Saturday night curled up on the floor in the closet, fighting the voice inside her head. Resisting the urge to go out, she finally fell asleep around dawn.
When she next woke up, she knew.
Cassandra was back, and she was here to stay.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Charley rolled over on to her back and took time for a luxurious stretch. From the kitchen, she could hear Aaron singing to a tune on the radio; the smell of toast still lingered in the air. They’d already had breakfast in bed and he’d gone to make more tea.
With a satisfied sigh, she snuggled back down underneath the duvet, missing the warmth of his body next to hers already. This is what Sundays were meant for, she mused. Funnily enough, she couldn’t recall the last time she and Dan had made the effort to lie in bed of a morning. Dan had been an ‘early to bed, early to rise’ person, so was usually up at the first signs of light. She’d long ago forgotten what it was like to curl up and go back to sleep, having always felt guilty while he was doing stuff. Even since his death, she’d still done it out of habit.
Now she was having fun doing it again. This was all new and deserved to be enjoyed. Content – that’s how she felt. For a long time, she’d seen Aaron as a friend, but she had been drawn to him recently for no other reason than he was a nice guy who wanted to spend time with her. Already, she couldn’t wait to see him again when he wasn’t there, hear his voice, feel his skin next to hers; that kiss on a bare shoulder, that touch of a fingertip. All of it something she thought she’d never have after Dan.
She smiled to herself. Who would have thought that Aaron would rock her world and she would love every minute of it?
‘More tea, m’lady?’ Aaron smiled as he came into the room.
He’d slipped on his T-shirt, but other than that he was naked. As he drew level with her, Charley ran her fingers over the side of his thigh, feeling his coarse black hair standing on end from her touch. She felt a familiar pulse of lust between her legs.
He placed the tray down on top of the bedside cabinet and slid into bed beside her. She lifted his arm and placed it around her shoulders, returning to lie next to his chest as they shared a comfortable silence.
‘So what shall we do today?’ she asked eventually.
‘I’m taking you to the place that does the best roast dinners ever.’
‘Sounds like a great plan. Anywhere I know?’
‘Yes, but I don’t want to spoil the surprise.’
‘You’re always spoiling me! Not that I’m complaining.’
‘That’s because…oh…I think…Well, I know…Charley Belington…I’m falling in love with you.’
‘Oh!’ Charley stared up at him, unsure of her feelings as a million thoughts flashed through her mind.
‘Yes, and I’m a little embarrassed that I blurted it out now!’ Aaron pressed a finger to her lips as she went to speak. ‘I can’t help the way I feel, but I don’t want you to burst my bubble and say this is all too quick for you. As long as you’re enjoying my company, that’s good enough for me. So, while my cheeks and that tea cool down…’ He lifted up the duvet and disappeared underneath it.
As she felt his lips travelling from her neck down her chest and cleavage, ever so slowly, Charley’s eyes filled with tears.
Of happiness.
Watching through the window as Charley left with Aaron later that morning, Ella began to rant.
‘Look at them,’ she said. ‘I bet they’re off out for lunch again, somewhere romantic and lovey-dovey. It’s enough to make you puke. They’ve been together all weekend! It’s always the fucking same, though, isn’t it? Always me seeing someone else fall in love from the sidelines.’
All you’re good enough for is a quick screw and away they go.
Ella waved a hand around, clutching a fresh bottle of vodka. ‘I can’t even get that lately. Home a-fucking-lone again.’
You’re such a loser.
In a rush, she felt sick to her stomach thinking of the last time she’d gone out, meeting that bastard again, after all this time. But she’d soon sorted him out.
Revenge was sweet – she smiled then.
She saw an unfamiliar car draw up outside and came away from the window quickly.
Someone’s after you – it has to be!
Fear coursed through her as she held her breath, hearing car doors slamming and expecting a knock on the entrance door. Seconds later, when it hadn’t materialised, she sneaked a look around the frame. But the occupants of the car were nowhere to be seen. She looked downstairs to the steps in front of her property, but there was no one there either.
No one knows what you’ve done – no one! So you’re okay for now.
She stared across into Jean’s window. Jean would be watching; she always was. Ella scowled. Did she see her come in the other night, after she’d laid into Brendan? If she did, she’d be able to tell the police about her. They’d find out she already had a criminal record and lock her away again.
Or then again, maybe Brendan wouldn’t want the world to know it was her. After the viciousness of her attack, he might be scared that she’d spill the beans on what really happened at Ravenside. He’d be sent back t
o prison. And even if he was stupid enough to say anything, the police wouldn’t know her as Ella Patrick so they couldn’t trace her that easily.
Could the police get dental records for teeth marks, she wondered? There must be plenty of them around Brendan’s knob. She laughed again before her mood changed.
It’s all her fault. That Charley. All she wants to do now is screw him.
‘They think I don’t see them but I do. I see them all the time, screwing in the bedroom.’
While you have to go out to get laid.
‘And look at ME! I even get rejected by the ugliest-looking freaks I’ve ever set eyes on. No one wanted me when I needed to be screwed.’
Ella paced the room again, clenching and unclenching her fists. ‘And now I have to go out or I’ll spend all day and all night thinking of them. Screwing, that’s all they do. I know.’ She pointed to her eyes. ‘I can see them. Screwing all the time.’
Yes, you are so sneaky.
It was my fault that Andy left me. I pushed him: I knew it, he knew it. You see, when I met him, I was clean. I was off the drugs and the drink, had been for six months. So I looked good, I felt fantastic, I was beginning to enjoy life. Meeting Andy topped it all.
I hadn’t felt so happy in a long while. It was one of the only times in my life that I felt sort-of normal. I trusted Andy with all my being. We did things that couples do: went out for dinner, to the cinema. Even basic stuff like cuddling up on the settee to watch a film was great with Andy. I suppose it was the closest I’ve ever come to ordinary domestic bliss. I always dreamt that I would have a relationship like my parents’ one day. Love and marriage and happy ever after, that’s what I wanted. Looking back on how they were together, I see how much they loved each other. Fate is such a cruel bastard at times!
I was with Andy for ten months until I fell off the wagon and changed back into the monster I thought I’d left behind. When the lustful stage of wanting sex every time we met wore off, I still craved the closeness. Andy was content with a few times a week but I wanted it a few times a night. There is nothing like the buzz of sex for me, the rush of an orgasm, the look on his face when he was at the height of pleasure I had given to him.
Watching Over You Page 21
