The Secret Within: A totally gripping psychological thriller with a jaw-dropping twist

by Lucy Dawson

  I waited, my heart thumping.

  ‘Hello – yes, I’m still here. He will? That’s great. Thank you for your help.’

  I hung up, rested my elbows on the table and placed my fingers thoughtfully on my lips, staring at the wall in front of me, beyond which I could hear the muffled voice of Tan, holding his clinic. Please God, the patient had made a mistake, because while I had to check out what she’d told me, I felt physically ill at the thought she might be right and where that might lead.

  I looked up and down the street of town houses, now mostly all occupied by high-end dentists and upmarket estate agents, before finally locating the sign for Nathan’s private practice. Climbing several steep stone steps, I rang the bell, looking at the thick, warped trunk of an established wisteria while I waited, following its weaving branches up the wall. It must look stunning in summer. The door opened, but to my surprise as much as hers, Stefanie emerged, wrapped in a belted wool coat, chocolate-coloured leather-gloved hands clutching her handbag. She quickly rearranged her features into a delighted smile.

  ‘Julia! What a lovely surprise! Ooh!’ she exclaimed quickly and lowered her voice, ‘are you coming to talk to Nate about working here?’

  ‘I’m here on business, yes.’

  ‘How wonderful! I’m not surprised. He’s so great but with more work than he can handle at the moment. He’s only just managing to squeeze me in before Christmas and I’ve known him for years!’ She laughed.

  ‘What are you having done, if you don’t mind me asking?’ I kept my tone light.

  ‘Well, I’m not shouting about it – but it’s you – you do this sort of thing every day for a living. Boob job, on Friday. I’m driving poor Nate mad though – keep changing my mind about the implant sizes, although I’ve just finally come to a decision.’ She winked at me. ‘It’s time. Plus it gets me out of hosting Christmas. The lengths we mums go to for a rest, eh?’ She laughed again. ‘That reminds me, we must fix that rematch dinner soon. I’ll buzz you in the New Year when the bandages are off, and good luck!’ She nodded her head in the direction of Nathan’s clinic and crossed her fingers, before kissing me briefly on each cheek and hurrying down the steps.

  As if I was coming to Nathan for a bloody job interview. I gritted my teeth and stalked into the predictably plush waiting room; thick grey carpets, vibrant purple velvet sofas and armchairs – the colour of foil chocolate wrappers – either side of a spikey arrangement of white lilies in an ornamental fireplace. A pretty receptionist sat behind the desk, dressed in a black healthcare tunic; Nathan’s initials stitched onto her breast pocket in white to match the piping on her collar and sleeves.

  I smiled. ‘Hello, I’m Julia Blythe. I think we spoke earlier? I’m here to see Nathan.’

  ‘I’ll just let Dr Sloan know you’re here.’ Her small teeth were absurdly white and neat. I wondered if she knew that Nathan was a Mr, as befitted his professional status in this country, or if she had been asked to call him Dr, to reassure potential patients. I didn’t correct her, just took a seat and reached for one of the thick glossy magazines on the table.

  She put the phone down. ‘He’ll be with you in just a moment.’

  I pretended to start flicking through the pages, very briefly lifted my gaze and scanned the ceiling. I caught my breath – two small black devices sat in either corner. Was he watching me right now? I got out my phone, held it up and started pretending to adjust my hair, but I wasn’t using it as a mirror. I was snapping the cameras – images that I immediately emailed to myself.

  I heard a buzzer go, and the receptionist beamed at me. ‘He’s ready for you now.’

  Following her through the hall of what would have been a well-to-do family house in a former life, I waited as she knocked at a door.

  ‘Come!’ said a voice, and she opened it to reveal Nathan in his usual uniform of shirt and chinos, sitting at a desk by a window overlooking a back garden – the bare branches of the trees motionless against the white sky – as he tapped away busily at his computer. ‘Are you OK to take a seat?’ he said absently, motioning to the chair next to me as if I was a patient. ‘I’ll just be a moment, then we’ll go.’

  ‘Sure,’ I replied easily, more than happy to play whatever shitty power game he was into today. It gave me the chance to look around properly… and take in the same, small black devices in the top corner of this room too. I felt giddy and swallowed as I got out my phone and pretended to text, while quickly photographing the cameras.

  ‘Sorry, one second.’ I held up a hand as Nathan finally turned to me. I WhatsApped the photo to Ewan. He wouldn’t understand, but it didn’t matter.

  ‘No problem at all.’ Nathan jumped up and patted his pockets. ‘So where would you like to go? There’s a good deli just around the corner. Or…’ he looked at his watch, ‘we could go for a proper drink if you like?’

  I put the phone back in my bag and cleared my throat.

  ‘One of your private patients was in clinic today.’ My heart started to thump. ‘She has a severe encapsulation. Her surgery was five months ago.’

  He sat back down slowly.

  ‘I would actually question if the implants you gave her were the appropriate cc and might have contributed to her issues now, but that’s not why I’m here. She told me in passing that she noticed cameras in your consulting rooms, which you said were for “legal reasons”. Now that I’m here, I can see them.’ I pointed up. ‘Why would you have surveillance cameras where women are undressing and you are examining them? It’s not medically necessary. What are you using the recordings for? Where do you store them? Do these women know you’re filming them?’

  He went very, very still and twisted in his chair to face out of the window.

  ‘Nathan, I’m giving you the opportunity to tell me it’s not what it looks like and that I’ve made a mistake.’

  He continued to stare straight ahead. ‘So what does it look like?’

  I exclaimed aloud. ‘Oh come on! These women come to you because they trust you, and you’re filming them without consent – presumably, in most cases half-naked. Why would you need films of your patients in a state of undress? How do you think it looks?’

  He leant forward suddenly, widening his legs so he could rest his elbows on his knees. ‘I’ve done exactly as you asked. Acted as if nothing ever happened, haven’t I?’

  ‘You mean after the beach incident?’ I frowned. ‘Yes, you have. And thank you for that, but—’

  ‘It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.’ He spoke conversationally. ‘Do you know that I look forward to coming into work on my NHS days with an irrational excitement, but I dread it at the same time because being near you is almost more than I can bear? The days when I get home and Cass is at our house, and I know you’ll be coming to get her, or I’ll bring her back to yours and get to see you – it’s like getting some kind of hit.’

  He turned to face me. ‘The way I feel about you is flying around my head constantly, in my eyes, on my tongue. I can’t get any sense of peace at all. It won’t settle and rest. I carry it with me everywhere I go in this heart-shaped void. I don’t want to look at other women!’ He gave a desperate laugh. ‘Why would I want films of strangers? I only want you! There’s no one else but you, Julia!’

  I stared at him in disbelief. For a moment, I could almost believe him; it was such a convincing picture he was painting: a man used to getting everything he wanted, who had finally fallen in love… but also a man filming women without their knowledge. I thought about how I would feel to discover that my doctor was watching films of me naked any time he felt like it; maybe showing me – at my most vulnerable – to God knows who else.

  I thought about men watching films of Cass being touched and examined intimately, and the wave of revulsion that rippled through me began to push out through my skin and harden like armour. I would not allow him to fire his lies at me and let them hit home.

  ‘So you’re saying you have never recorded or watc
hed your patients being examined, via those cameras?’ I adopted the same emotionless and factual tone that I used with Dom. ‘Tell me the truth, Nathan.’

  Twenty

  Nathan

  My panic was fluttering like a butterfly stuck inside the glass roof of a very tall building. I wished I could reach up to squash it. ‘You really don’t have a very high opinion of men, do you?’

  Julia shook her head defiantly. ‘That’s not true. I think there are lots of very lovely men. But you don’t love me, and you’re not answering my question.’

  ‘I do love you! I don’t understand! I’ve done it – I’ve waited and waited and you still don’t believe me. Hang on!’ I began to feel around desperately for my phone. ‘I want to show you something!’

  ‘You know I’m going to have to take this further? I can’t know about these cameras and not say anything. I have a duty of care to the patients themselves. I’m going to have to report you, Nathan.’ She picked up her bag and got to her feet.

  ‘Look!’ I scrolled through the pictures and found the one of us on the beach. ‘See?’ I got to my feet, held it up for her. ‘You can’t tell me this couple have no feelings for each other? Look at us!’ I could hear the triumph in my voice. Now she would have to believe me; she was witnessing it with her own eyes.

  She gasped and covered her mouth. ‘Who took this? Was it Storm? Did she see us?’

  I couldn’t possibly tell her the truth. I’d be as good as dead to her. ‘I’m not sure. It was sent to me anonymously, so someone is unhappy with us, yes. Please don’t report me, because apart from anything else, if this picture comes out it’s going to look like you’ve pretty much pulled a rerun of what happened in your last job – trashed a colleague you were involved with.’

  ‘I’m not involved with you!’ She exclaimed. ‘You kissed me!’

  ‘But you’ve just told me, it’s what it looks like that matters, not the truth.’ I reminded her, pointing at the cameras in the corner of the room. ‘I don’t want another scandal for you,’ I pleaded. ‘No one will touch you with a bargepole professionally if that happens.’

  ‘Are you threatening me?’ Her eyes widened. ‘If I report you, you’ll make that picture public?’

  ‘I’m not the only one that has it, am I?’ That was, of course, true and in the heat of the moment I believed the story I was telling her, the danger she was in. ‘And, of course, I’m not threatening you! I’m trying to say you can’t have it both ways! You can’t insist my having cameras in here MUST mean I’m doing something wrong, yet a picture of you kissing me apparently means nothing? Don’t you see?’

  Her eyes filled with tears. ‘You ARE threatening me.’

  ‘No. I would never do that.’ I shook my head emphatically. ‘The cameras were installed for protection. You know what kind of litigious nutjobs wind up in here! If I don’t do exactly what they want, or God forbid I get it wrong – it’s my head on the block and my insurance policy! If I’m going to put some stupidly sized implants in a woman at her insistence, I want proof that I only did what she asked for!’ It was a truth of sorts. That is why I put them up to start with.

  ‘But that’s absurd! You just tell them no!’ Julia exclaimed. ‘You refuse to perform the surgery!’

  ‘I have an ex-wife, and ex-house, a current wife, a current house and three children at private school. You do the maths. I don’t refuse anyone’s money.’ I took a step towards her. ‘This isn’t how it looks. I swear to you. Don’t say anything, please. I don’t want you to be damaged, of all people. I love you so much!’ I hesitated, twisted to my desk, grabbed one of my surgical pens and reaching out quickly, drew a small purple heart on the back of her hand. It was meant to lighten the tone, a cute gesture, but she looked down at herself, horrified.

  ‘What the hell is wrong with you?’ She pulled away from me. ‘You have NO idea what love is. None at all!’

  Turning and grabbing for the door handle, she rushed out into the hall.

  ‘Julia!’ I called, bolting after her, ‘wait!’ but she was already past reception, had flung the front door open.

  I clattered down the stone steps, the cold air hitting me as I frantically looked left then right, to see her sprinting up the road towards her car.

  ‘Julia!’ I yelled, but she didn’t look up, just fumbled with the door handle and jumped in. The brake lights flickered on and the car lurched before she roared off, leaving me staring after her, shivering in my thin shirt as a few desultory flakes of snow floated past me, landed on the pavement and vanished.

  Twenty-One

  Hamish

  ‘Everything I’ve worked for!’ Nathan was pacing the room. ‘Julia was thawing until this happened – I know she was! Operating together on that patient was amazing. She’s such an incredible surgeon. It felt so intimate!’

  ‘Apart from the other twenty-odd people in the room, you mean?’ I reminded him, pulling a chair over to the corner of the room and climbing on it to an ominous creaking.

  ‘I thought she was coming to see me because she wanted to.’ He continued to march up and down. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seem him so agitated. ‘It was perfect timing! Stefanie left as Julia arrived – shutting the door on my past to welcome my future. It felt like a pivotal moment, Ham.’ He fell back wretchedly in his chair and looked out of the window. ‘It was like finding a deer in the snow at the last, cold, blue light of day. Outwardly serene but with muscles poised, you know?’

  What on earth was he talking about? I said nothing, just wobbled and felt in my back pocket for the screwdriver. He wasn’t waiting for me to respond anyway, that much was clear.

  ‘She could have bolted into the dark forest behind her at any moment. I could tell she was nervous when I watched her in the waiting room.’ He sat up again – still staring into space as I looked at him more carefully. Was he having some sort of breakdown? ‘So, when she came in here, I pretended to be calm and not bothered. I let her sit down and gather herself… but that was when she started accusing me! She started shouting and holding her head like it was a… a watermelon exploding over the walls and—’

  ‘Nathan, shut up now!’ I wasn’t doing him any favours, letting him dramatically grandstand. ‘The point is that she’s said she’s going to report you.’ I reached up and began to unscrew the casements. ‘That’s what we need to focus on here – formulating our response – not guffing on about deer and melon.’

  Nathan twisted round and stared up at me. ‘Thanks for that. Whose fault is this, by the way, Hamish? Who didn’t remove the cameras when I asked him to at least several weeks ago!’ He shouted the last bit so suddenly, I actually did jump, but carried on loosening the fixtures without comment. He could be such a petulant child when he wanted to be.

  Moments later, there was a timid knock at the door. ‘Not now!’ Nathan roared. ‘Just go home! I’ll see you in the morning!’ I watched him out of the corner of my eye as he jumped up and walked to the window. ‘A good receptionist pretends not to hear,’ he muttered. ‘This one’s going to have to go if she can’t get something so basic right.’

  One of the casements fell to the floor with a thud, and I sneezed as some dust dropped down with it. ‘Of course, had you not asked me to call in sick for two days, so you could operate with her, I would have been the one the patient spoke to about the cameras. Not Julia. We wouldn’t be having this conversation now.’ I rubbed my nose and stared at the light, feeling like I was going to go again.

  Nate turned around very slowly. ‘You’re saying this is all my own fault?’

  I sneezed for a second time. Once a wish, twice a kiss… ‘At least we’ve still got the photo of her. You wanted to destroy that, remember?’ I pointed the screwdriver at him.

  He shook his head in disbelief and opened his arms out to the side as if offering himself up for crucifixion. ‘Shall I hold still so you can shove that blade right through my palms? Make me really suffer? Go on! Say it again – I’ve only myself to blame
– except I asked you to take the cameras down ages ago. I was trying to be good!’

  ‘You could have just taken them down yourself. You weren’t trying that hard.’

  ‘You’re the fucking landlord!’

  ‘OK, enough now,’ I warned, my patience starting to wear thin. ‘Stop with the self-pity. We should both give up the blame game. It’s happened. We’ve just got to deal with it.’

  ‘Argh!’ He suddenly shouted aloud again and kicked out at his desk in anger. It thudded up against the wall behind it, everything on top juddering, the remains of a coffee lurching up the white insides of the mug,

  I sighed and stopped what I was doing. ‘Get on with it and trash the room then, if you’re going to. Fling the papers around, throw your cup at the wall so hard it smashes, get up here and rip the cameras out with your bare hands if it’ll make you feel better, but I’m warning you now, I’m not clearing up after you.’

  ‘I’m not asking you to clear anything up.’ He collapsed down onto his chair, glowering. ‘I’m well aware that this is a moment which requires clarity, thanks very much.’

  I clambered down, the rest of the camera in my hands and placed it on his desk. ‘Look, you’ve shown her the picture, which was a good move. She’s no fool. She knows how that will look if it gets out. Kissing the colleague she’s accusing of dirty deeds? And how does she explain it to her husband? I bet you she’s at home thinking through her options right now and deciding to keep her mouth shut.’

  ‘I honestly don’t want to use the picture publicly. It’ll make real trouble for her.’ He leant to one side, rubbing his forehead with a hand.

  My eyes narrowed and the stirrings of real anger began to swirl in my gut. ‘Well, as I just said, let’s hope you don’t need to, but if she does come after you, make no mistake, we are going to use that photo to protect ourselves.’