by Linda Coles
Cheers went up around the kitchen and both boys got busy with spoons and fingers, looking forward to a bit of stolen time on the swings and slide.
“In another couple of years, it won’t be swings and slides,” Stephanie mused as she climbed back up the stairs. “Better make the most of these years while I can.”
Chapter Seventy-Four
With the boys safely dropped off at school, Stephanie headed back home to greet the builders, though she really just wanted to see what time they arrived, let them know she was around so they didn’t slack off all morning. After errands later that morning then an hour or so of shopping, she was going into town to meet a friend for lunch, before heading back in time for the boys arriving back. She was happy being a full-time mum and housewife, and with Aaron away so much, she’d had to step into the role, not wanting her boys to be brought up by a nanny. Initially, she’d baulked at the notion of being home all day and losing her career in marketing, thinking she’d go back to it when they boys were older, but the truth was, she loved her life, their life together, and for as long as her husband worked away, she’d continue to fulfil her role as the household’s ‘go-to woman.’ She turned the key in the front door and was pleased to hear banging already going on upstairs. As the front door slammed shut behind her, she heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and turned to see Bill, the builder in charge of the project.
“Morning, Bill.”
“Morning, Mrs. Galbraith. Lovely morning for it, eh?”
“Glorious, and please, call me Stephanie.”
“Okay, Stephanie, will do,” he said, smiling a heavy smoker’s grin, with tar-stained teeth peeking out. “It’s going to be a noisy one today, I’m afraid. We’re taking the interior wall down so it’s likely to be very dusty too. I’ll be putting plastic sheets up, but you know, dust gets everywhere so it’s best if you keep all the other doors closed. Minimise it as much as possible.”
“Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll do that. I’m out for most of the day anyway, so don’t worry about the noise. Let’s just get it done. Oh, and before I forget, would one of you be able to take a couple of pictures of it coming down? Only Joshua wanted to see it.”
Bill smiled. “Sure thing, not a problem. Fancy himself as a builder one day, does he?”
“Pilot, like his dad. Well, that’s his plan, but at seven, that could well be musician by the time he’s fourteen.”
“Well, I’ll get some snaps for the lad, then I’ll email them to you when you get back. Right, better get back to it,” he said, and headed off back upstairs.
A quick change of shoes for Stephanie, and she was on her own way. She planned to head first into Richmond town centre for errands, then jump onto the train and into London for lunch with her friend Ruth. It had been a few weeks since their last lunch date and they had lots to catch up on. Ruth doted on the two boys and treated them like family, even though they weren’t, and was always keen to hear about what they’d been up to. They’d been friends since their later school years.
Her offices were just around the corner from the Green Park tube station, where Stephanie was exiting now. She always looked forward to her lunch and dinner dates with Ruth, and usually her partner Amanda, who also doted on the twins. She could see the building just up ahead. A young man stood outside, a cigarette between his fingers, a leg bent behind him, foot resting on the stone wall. He looked like most young men in their early twenties—jeans, hoody and overgrown hair—but that was fashion and no doubt he would have looked at her choice of dress in her own twenties and thought it bland. She smiled at him as she entered the front doors, and then took the tiled stairs up to the second floor where huge glass doors led the way to Ruth’s empire, McGregor & Co and the techy world beyond.
Ruth was floating round reception and spotted her immediately. They embraced, both women grinning fondly at each other and planting real kisses on each other’s cheeks.
“I’ll just grab my bag,” said Ruth. “Fancy Turkish or Thai for lunch? Or something else? You choose,” she called as she dashed over to her desk.
“Turkish sounds good to me,” said Amanda when Ruth returned, “and since Aaron is away, that will keep me going with no need to cook tonight.”
“Excellent. I know just the place. Particularly good at lunchtime, but busy, so we may have to have a glass of wine while we wait. You in a rush?”
“Heavens, no, as long as I’m back for the boys, but I’ve plenty of time.”
The two women linked arms and made their way out of the building towards the little Turkish restaurant a couple of streets over. With the warm sun on their faces and laughter in their hearts, they looked like the close friends they were, without a care in the world.
But that was all about to change for Stephanie. Her world was about to fall apart, and she’d need Ruth more than ever to help her through.
Chapter Seventy-Five
She felt the train start to slow as it approached the station, and she gathered her things together and stood and stretched. The train came to a standstill, and she stepped out onto the platform, a stiff breeze catching her around her shoulders as she walked towards the car park and on to school to pick up the twins.
Thirty minutes later, the boys were strapped into the back seat, excitedly replaying the best parts of their day and who had scored what goal in their PE lesson. Music to her ears, she thought fondly.
“Did you get some photos, Mum?” Joshua asked excitedly.
“I asked Bill to take some. I’ve not been back yet, so it will be a surprise for all of us.”
There was a collective “cool” from the back seat.
A few minutes later she parked up in the driveway. Josh and Jasper scrambled out, and she followed them inside. The door was open for the workmen. She dropped her keys into a bowl on the hallway table and followed the boys up the stairs, suddenly aware of the builders’ silence and the sound of men snickering.
The boys rounded the corner at the top of the stairs and then stood still, almost falling over each other as they came to an abrupt halt. There was a furtive sound of hurried shuffling.
“Boys?” said Stephanie as she rounded the top of the stairs.
Her hands flew to her mouth and she grabbed Josh and Jasper by the shoulders. In the gaping space where a wall had once stood was one of the workers, his face hidden by a black, shiny rubber-like mask with just a tiny hole for his mouth and two small slits for his eyes.
She turned to Bill, who was looking at something terribly interesting on the floor. “Where did that come from?” No one spoke. “Someone tell me. Now!” She turned Josh and Jasper around and pointed them back down the stairs. “Boys, go to your rooms.” Wordlessly, they scurried back down the stairs, aware that something was amiss.
The man in the mask peeled it off slowly. Underneath, his face was beet red. He, too, stared at the floor. “We found them in the wall. I’m sorry. . .” His voice trailed off.
“What do you mean in the wall? Whose is it?”
Bill cleared his throat. “Well, um . . . we assumed they’d be yours?”
“What do you mean ‘they’?”
“Well, the DVDs and the handcuffs. And the riding whip. They were all together behind a hidden panel in the wall that we were taking down.” Bill pointed to a box on the floor.
Stephanie felt her face begin to burn. A cold sweat prickled her neck. “What secret panel?” No one replied. Gingerly, as though picking up dog excrement, Stephanie flicked back the flap on the box and extracted a handful of DVDs. The cases were plain vinyl, but each one bore a woman’s name written in black marker and a date. She didn’t recognise the names of the first two but she stopped at the third one, which read simply Val. She only knew of one Val, Aaron’s brief affair last year. But the date marked it as recent.
The colour drained from her face.
Bill cleared his throat again. “OK, lads,” he said briskly, “let’s leave the lady some privacy now.” He turned to Stephanie. “I’m
very sorry about all this. We’ll be back in the morning to carry on. That’s probably best.”
“Fine,” said Stephanie. Her voice sounded strange in her ears. As Bill and the workers trooped hurriedly down the stairs, she sat down on the dusty floor and leaned her head heavily against the wall, swallowing back the vomit that rose in her throat.
Chapter Seventy-Six
“I’d love to take the boys out; shall I pick them up?” Thank goodness for nanas and grandmas.
“Would you mind? This migraine is almost killing me. I really need to go and lie down.” Stephanie hated lying to her mother but under the circumstances, if she knew what was going on, she felt sure she’d understand.
“Of course I will, darling. Why don’t I grab their PJs too? Then if you’re still not feeling better, they can stay over.”
“Thanks, Mum, but I don’t want them missing school.”
“One day won’t hurt, and your dad and I would love to spoil them. We could even go to the zoo or something, pretend it’s educational if it makes you feel better.”
“Well, I suppose you’re right. Thanks again, Mum.”
Not long after she’d hung up, they bundled the boys into the back seat, exchanged flurries of hugs and kisses, and then once again, Stephanie was alone.
Nearly two hours later, she finally plucked up the courage to slide the DVD labelled Val into the player. For a few moments, there was nothing on the screen then it focused in on a room. The picture was quite dark, though she didn’t know if that was bad lighting or on purpose, and she clutched the remote in her hand tightly, as if holding it so would give her strength. Now she could see a room, almost empty save for a large four-poster bed and a few pieces of furniture. It was the bed that had her attention right now: it had half posts and a dark finish with decorative silk tassels hanging at each corner. It was one she herself had lain in. At their cottage. Involuntarily, she covered her mouth with her hand.
Now a man walked into the room, his back to the camera, and lay down on his stomach on that very bed. He was totally naked, wearing a black rubber gimp mask and nothing else. Stephanie paused the video: there was a large mole on his left shoulder, and she recognised the placement immediately, and who it belonged to. Aaron. She sat transfixed, staring at the screen. Her husband lay still, arms stretched out towards the top corners of the bed. Then a woman joined the picture. Visible only from behind, she too was totally naked apart from a pair of stilettos, but Stephanie would recognise that long dark hair anywhere. It was Valerie, the woman Aaron had ‘once’ had a fling with, the woman he’d told her it was over with. The time and date stamp in the lower corner of the screen told her otherwise: the recording was less than a month old.
She knew she’d seen enough, but curiosity pulled at her. Tears pouring down her cheeks, she watched as Val picked up a burning candle, straddled her husband’s bare thighs and, raising her arm in the air as high as it would go, tipped the candle up. Droplets of hot wax landed on his bare shoulders. He rose to the sensation as best he could with her sitting on him, then slowly lowered himself back down, presumably as the initial sting left his skin. There was no sound to the homemade movie, but Stephanie didn’t need to hear to understand what was going on. Pleasure and pain all mixed up together.
Her hand shaking, she ejected the recording and slipped another DVD into the machine. The camera opened on the same room, the same man, though a different woman; she’d no idea who. The scene was much the same, but this woman had a riding crop, the one found in the wall, she guessed, along with the rubber mask. Aaron lay spread-eagled on the bed again; now a redhead was hitting his bare backside with a thick leather thong. His body flinched each time it made contact; welts bloomed on his skin.
Stephanie pressed “open” on and ejected the disc, slipped it back into its case. So her husband was not only still seeing Valerie, but had been seeing others at the cottage too, enjoying his filthy little hobby in the same bed he and Stephanie slept in together as a loving couple.
Loving couple. She smiled bitterly and closed her eyes against the flood of tears that now ran freely down her face.
Chapter Seventy-Seven
Stephanie awoke the next morning with a banging headache and swollen eyes. It took her a moment to remember she was all alone: the boys would just now be waking up at their grandma’s, and Aaron away at work. Or so he said. How many other lies had he told her? She’d been tempted to call him and have it out with him, but she’d restrained herself, figuring she needed to think it through a little more. No, she would wait until they could talk in person, face to face. Like husband and wife. Or not.
She threw the covers back and swung her legs out, then groaned with the pain in her head. If she didn’t have one yesterday, she almost certainly had a migraine forming today.
“Serves me right for lying to my children,” she said out loud, and went downstairs in search of the kettle and a mug of hot tea. “Tea solves everything, apparently,” she muttered. “Let it try and solve this one.”
It was strange being totally on her own, and on a school day. It was too early to call anyone and chat, so she typed out a quick text to Ruth for when she was able to reply. Her phone pinged with a reply almost immediately.
Coffee is always welcome, though detect a problem? All OK?
Are you free this morning? Need to talk to a friend. Husband troubles. Send. She waited for the reply.
Oh dear! Say 10? My place easier or town? You choose. Xxx.
Your place. See you then. Xxx
A knock on the back door startled her, but she could see it was Bill through the glass and waved at him to come in. She knew she looked a state, a real sight for sore eyes, mainly her own.
“Morning,” he said gently.
“I know I look a state this morning,” she said, touching her wild hair. “I’ll go and make myself presentable, though that might take me a while longer than usual.”
Bill forced a weak smile in response.
After a shower and some time in front of the mirror with her cosmetics, she looked and felt almost human again. Amazing what putting some war paint on could do to your spirits, she thought wryly. Her stomach rolled with hunger, and she decided on a plate of scrambled eggs and a whole lot more tea rather than her usual muesli and yogurt.
“It’s not called comfort food for nothing, and right now, I need comfort.” She busied herself with the task of cooking and then ate in silence. After a chat with Ruth, she’d feel better she was sure. She pulled the door closed behind her and left to the sound of a hammer banging upstairs in the new en suite.
Chapter Seventy-Eight
The last of the passengers had disembarked off the plane and Amber, Valerie and the rest of the flight crew were finishing up with their final tasks, getting ready to leave themselves. They were always happy to be landing back home at Gatwick, to spend a few nights with their friends or family, and, more importantly, sleep in their own beds.
In one cluster, they moved into the airport terminal, through passport control, and made their way outside, chatting amiably with each other. Most of them held smartphones in their hands, idly scrolling through emails and checking voice messages Suddenly Amber stopped dead on the pavement, all colour draining from her face.
“Amber?” said Valerie, turning back to her friend. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Are you alright?”
“Remember that handsome prick of a guy from the plane I told you about in Bulawayo? He’s dead. Murdered. Look.” Amber passed the phone to her.
Valerie’s brow furrowed. “Oh my god… Amber!”
“I know, right? What a horrible way to die.” She shuddered. “But you know what? After what he did to me, I’m kind of glad. Maybe he got his comeuppance. I’ll bet next month’s wages he’s done to others what he did to me, and I’ll also bet no one has ever reported him. Dumb cows like I was.”
She clicked the screen off, shivering again as the memories flooded back. Valerie wrapped an arm around her friend’
s shoulders and squeezed.
“Come on,” she said briskly, “Let’s get you to the car then you can tell me all about it.”
Chapter Seventy-Nine
Ruth sat watching Amanda finish off the last of the sweet and sour pork like it was going to be her last meal for a while. Little blobs of orange-coloured sauce were still evident on the plate, the only sign that a meal had been there recently. Amanda licked the stickiness from her lips and flopped back with a hearty sigh.
“I’m stuffed! That was just what the doctor ordered. And Wong’s is the best for sweet and sour pork balls. No one else comes close. And twice in the space of a few of days!”
“Does that feel better now? Only you didn’t really come up for air once you started—did you not get fed today?” Ruth smirked approvingly.
“I did, but you know what it’s like when you’re tired. You do eat more, carbs particularly. You hanker after heavier food, and this damn case is keeping me awake at night. I’m barely functioning without the aid of coffee as it is. And I’ve started hitting the chocolate bars from the vending machine.”
“Ouch! You’ll need to accompany me running, then, or you’ll become a bit of a piglet,” said Ruth, playfully making a fat blown-out face, puffing her cheeks out to demonstrate her point.
“Like hell,” scoffed Amanda. “Running is not my thing, thanks all the same.”
“Talking of coffee, I met up with Stephanie today. She texted me, needed a girly chat. It seems Aaron has been up to no good.”
