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Enemy At The Window

Page 13

by A J Waines


  Daniel left them to it and went along the hall to the loo.

  ‘Let’s play a trick on Daddy when he comes back,’ he heard Rick call out in a stage-whisper.

  Here we go again.

  Rick had always been fond of silly pranks. As Daniel flushed the loo, he recalled the time on a friend’s stag night when Rick had blagged his way into his hotel room and propped a blow-up doll on the toilet. There was also the time he used his sister’s keys to get into her car, wound down the driver’s window and left chunks of a broken glass shelf on her seat, before running inside to raise the ‘false’ alarm. That was mean. Luckily, Louise had a sense of humour.

  On his way back from the toilet, Daniel could hear the pair of them sniggering conspiratorially. Rick was a good sport, he could give him that. He was bound to have had far better things to do with his Saturday.

  ‘Quick! Daddy will be back in a minute. Tuck that apron around it, so he won’t see.’

  Daniel took that as a cue to loiter, so he retraced his steps and wandered into the box room Rick used as a study. He’d rarely had a reason to go in there before, but it was just as cluttered as everywhere else. In the midst of cardboard boxes full of school chemistry apparatus and piles of textbooks, the heavy kneehole desk arose like an island. On it were scattered files with labels such as ‘Exams – June’ and ‘Coursework Results, Year 12’. A closed laptop nestled in the middle.

  He climbed over the detritus and took refuge in the large leather chair. It was scuffed and ripped in places, but moulded to Rick’s shape and rather comfortable. To begin with. As he leant back, it lurched to the side then slowly sank down giving out a loud hissing sound. Typical. There didn’t appear to be many items in Rick’s flat that hadn’t fallen off the back of a lorry – perhaps literally.

  Daniel interlaced his fingers across his stomach and stretched out his legs for maximum stability.

  In doing so, his foot hit something under the desk, knocking it over. He got down on his hands and knees to check what he’d disturbed and, clawing his way to the back, found a stack of papers, held together with string.

  He pulled them out into the light and read the covering sheet:

  Piecemeal – A play by Richard Fox

  Daniel smothered a tiny snigger to himself under his hand. Rick hadn’t mentioned this! He’d written a play, for goodness sake. Why had he kept it secret?

  He unknotted the string and slid out the top page in order to read the opening, but found instead several sheets of handwritten notes. The first was not in Rick’s handwriting and appeared to be feedback on the masterpiece:

  Lead female needs a stronger story arc… Jack is too much of a caricature… Tabitha’s final lie comes too soon, I thought we said it would be in the last act?

  The section at the bottom caught his eye. Scrawled in Rick’s handwriting was an address in Hampstead he recognised, and underneath it, an email address and mobile number. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out his phone and searched through his recent incoming callers – and there it was. Jody’s number.

  His mind was buzzing with questions as he straightened up. Jody implied she barely knew Rick. Had Jody read his play and given him a critique? When, exactly had they been in touch?

  He considered having a peak on Rick’s laptop. Looking for what, he wasn’t sure, but he was certain Rick would have some obscure and ludicrous password and he couldn’t afford to hang around typing one attempt after another. Instead, he pulled out the drawer in the centre of the desk. He had no idea why; his hand seemed to find the handle of its own accord. Part of him was appalled for snooping like this, but the other part was sick to death of the odd, unexplained events that had been percolating into his life.

  He came across a muddle of crumpled notes, loose staples, paper clips and a hole punch buried in a mound of small white circles. Just junk. Seeing something squashed at the back, he pulled the drawer further out and gripped several crumpled cards. He flattened the first one out. It was a photograph: Daniel was coming out of a shop with his arm round Sophie’s shoulder.

  When was this taken? He recognised the street.

  A dog barked outside Rick’s window, making him jump. He’d already spent ages away from the others, so he stuck his head out of the door to see if they were looking for him. He heard Rick make a roaring sound, followed by Ben squealing with laughter.

  Daniel retreated and flipped straight on to the next photo. He was too intrigued with what he’d found to leave just yet.

  The next picture had been digitally altered, because what had been the newsagents, was now a grand hotel. In the next print, the figure of a woman he didn’t recognise had been put in Sophie’s place. The result was Daniel, clear as day, coming out of a hotel with his arm around another woman.

  But there were more.

  Shots of him alongside the same woman, walking hand in hand across Hyde Park. One of him cupping the stranger’s face in his hands on a platform beside a train, another on the beach in Brighton in a passionate embrace. Each one was familiar, but where Sophie had once stood – an impostor had taken her place.

  They were so cleverly done that he couldn’t help but admire the finished product. Except this couldn’t be Rick’s handiwork; he was useless at anything the least bit geeky, like this. Yet, these were seamless; the figures looked like a genuine couple. There were several more in the pile showing different stages in the process that were less convincing.

  He swore out loud and stuffed the pictures down the back of his trousers. Then he put them back, realising it would be a dead giveaway if Rick discovered they were missing. Instead, Daniel hurriedly took close-up pictures of each one on his phone, then pushed them to the back of the drawer.

  He sank down into the chair for a moment, his body suddenly too heavy to do anything else. His eyelids batted against his cheek furiously as he tried to take in what he’d just seen. Why the hell would Rick be holding on to pictures that made it look like Daniel was seeing someone else?

  Rick’s call made him launch to his feet.

  ‘Hey, Dan, where’ve you got to?’

  He’d spent far too long in there. With a foul taste in his mouth, he bolted out of the study and rejoined the pair still giggling in the sitting room.

  Chapter 37

  Before the doorbell rang, Daniel had completely forgotten he’d invited Jody and Nikki to stay over. Cases and bags started piling up in the hallway.

  ‘Sorry, I know it’s only for a day or so, but we were loath to leave anything behind!’ said Jody. ‘You okay?’

  He stood still, looking blank before responding. ‘Yeah – sorry, come in.’ He was still feeling shell-shocked from his discovery in Rick’s study.

  A figure at the gate paid for the taxi and joined them inside.

  ‘Meet Nikki,’ Jody declared. ‘She’s only back in London for a couple of days.’

  Daniel saw in her an older, frumpier version of Jody. She was probably in her mid-forties and had the same shade of hair as Jody, but it was cut into a short unkempt bob.

  ‘Where are you off to?’ he asked.

  ‘I’m seeing friends in Bruges, then spending a couple of weeks in the south of France. My contract has just ended, so I’m making the most of it before the next one.’ She was wearing black dungarees which made her look as if she had no waistline, and heavy Dr Martens boots.

  He caught himself returning to Jody’s familiar face and for a moment wished he was behind a two-way mirror, so that he could spend time comparing the two of them without being seen.

  ‘I know you’ve probably eaten, but we’re both starving,’ said Jody. ‘We’ve been clearing up all day. Any chance we can get a takeaway?’

  Since his discovery, he hadn’t given food a thought. ‘Italian? Indian? Chinese? You choose.’ Their presence had instantly sent his mood in an upward trajectory.

  ‘Surprise us,’ said Jody, as she brought out a bottle of wine from a carrier bag.

  Daniel lit a couple of candles
and carried them to the kitchen table.

  ‘I’m sorry to be a nuisance, but have you got any painkillers?’ Nikki asked, rubbing her forehead. ‘The fumes from the cleaning fluid have given me one hell of a headache.’

  Her accent was edged with an American twang, nothing like the pure Brit cut-glass tone of Jody’s.

  Daniel went upstairs to the bathroom cabinet, but stopped short as soon as he reached the mirrored door. It was ajar by a fraction of an inch and when he checked inside, the lock was broken.

  ‘No, no, no,’ he moaned, under his breath.

  Did this happen before or after he had the locks changed? It was always locked for safety reasons, even though it was well out of Ben’s reach.

  He scoured the contents. Nothing seemed to be missing and once again, there was no conclusive evidence he could show the police. He hadn’t opened the cabinet in a long while; the lock could have been broken accidentally weeks ago.

  ‘What’s going on?’ he said out loud.

  ‘You okay?’ asked Jody, who had appeared out of the blue and was leaning against the doorframe, holding their bags.

  ‘Oh, nothing,’ he said, with a snuffled laugh. ‘I couldn’t find the tablets, but here they are.’

  The Lebanese takeaway was laced with sizzling spices; just what he needed. The chilli scorched his tongue and made its way down his throat, matching the fierce rage already burning inside him over Rick’s betrayal.

  There was no question that’s what it was; in some way, he was party to those faked pictures.

  What Daniel didn’t understand was what it was all for. Were the photos part of some sneaky plan to discredit Daniel, so he could worm his way into Sophie’s affections? Did Rick fancy her? Is that what this was about?

  He forced his mind back to the last time the three of them had been together. It would have been January when Rick had turned up at a book launch at Otterbornes, helping himself to canapés and free champagne. Sophie thought Daniel had invited him – and he thought she had. It was only afterwards that they twigged neither of them had requested the pleasure of his company.

  He was searching his memory for other occasions. A time when he’d walked into a room to find an incongruous silence, meaningful glances or too much space between the two of them. Had there ever been any unusual behaviour? Any flirting? He’d never had reason to question it before, but no matter how many scenes flashed into his head he could find nothing.

  Sophie had always made it clear she wasn’t the least bit keen on Rick as a human being. She did her utmost to avoid him and was always complaining about how crude and uncouth he was whenever he showed up. Either that was true – or she’d been giving an Oscar-winning performance all these years.

  What was Rick playing at?

  And why hadn’t Jody mentioned her contact with Rick over his play?

  Nikki began clearing the plates when Ben’s voice at the kitchen door took them all by surprise.

  ‘Daddy – need a story,’ he said, standing barefoot, swinging on the door handle. He was wearing pyjamas with a bemused cat on them and the word Catastrophe written underneath. Daniel thought it summed up his own week rather nicely. He beckoned him in and propped him on his knee.

  ‘Sorry, sweetheart, did we wake you up?’

  Jody opened the cupboard behind the ironing board and pulled out an apron to start the washing up.

  ‘Can the nice lady read me a story?’ asked Ben, pointing to Jody.

  ‘Go on,’ said Nikki, taking the rubber gloves out of Jody’s hands. ‘I’ll do these.’

  Daniel offered to take over instead, but Nikki was insistent. So he followed Jody upstairs, carrying Ben. He settled Ben in his cot and handed Jody a couple of books. When he left the room, he hung around just outside, unable to resist eavesdropping.

  ‘Miranda woke to a purple sky so she knew it must be Tuesday,’ she said. ‘The sky on the planet Arzon is a different colour every day. Did you know that, Ben?’

  ‘Yes!’ came a triumphant reply.

  The story didn’t sound familiar. Daniel held his breath, not wanting to disturb them and slowly peeped around the door. Ben was entranced, staring up at Jody’s face as she knelt beside the cot, but there was no book in her hand.

  He crept downstairs in awe.

  ‘He’s dropped off – sweet little chap,’ said Jody when she rejoined them soon after. Nikki had been telling him about her latest job in America, producing commercials for a high-profile TV station. She was open and friendly like Jody, but if Jody could be likened to a crimson peony, Nikki was a white lupin. Perky, but understated.

  ‘You’re a miracle worker,’ said Daniel. ‘Getting Ben to settle since…’ He stopped when he saw Jody’s knowing nod. ‘It’s set us back months in his development.’ Jody slipped off her shoes and sank back into the sofa with a sigh.

  ‘I’m shattered – I’m going to turn in,’ said Nikki.

  Jody spoke before Daniel had the chance. ‘You know which room we’re in?’

  Nikki nodded and left the two of them together. Daniel and Jody both waited in silence until her footsteps melted away.

  ‘Just now, reading to Ben – is that a story you know off by heart?’

  She did the lifting one eyebrow thing again and a ping went off, like an electric shock inside his chest. ‘You were listening!’ she cried. ‘No, that’s drama school for you. We did a lot of improvising. I loved it. Making things up as you go along – I’m good at that.’

  ‘Very impressive.’ He refilled her glass with wine. ‘How long have you been acting professionally?’

  ‘About twelve years now. It’s a weird job. People tend to put you on a pedestal. I’ve not done anything noble or of any real value, yet I get followed around and bombarded on social media. All because I pretend to be someone else for a living.’

  He decided to try something.

  ‘Ever written any plays? Helped aspiring scriptwriters?’

  She hesitated, her eyes narrowing slightly. ‘I’m not into writing, myself. Too much like hard work.’ She twisted a lock of hair into a tight spiral, then let it go. ‘I’ve had a go at directing, though. I certainly plan to do more of that.’

  The script he’d found at Rick’s; he didn’t actually know for certain if the handwritten notes on it were hers.

  Jody stifled a yawn. ‘Sorry, it’s been a long day.’

  ‘You’re right.’ He got up and stretched. ‘Time to get some sleep.’

  As he lay in bed, listening to the sounds within the house, he found himself mulling over the possibility that Rick could be the intruder who’d been snooping around his house in the dead of night. The more he considered it, the more likely it seemed. It was the sort of underhand behaviour that smacked of Rick. Why hadn’t he thought of it before?

  Perhaps Sophie had given him her key for some reason, although now the locks had been changed that little trick wouldn’t be working any more.

  Daniel turned over to face the empty pillow beside him, wrestling with one final question. The broken lock on the bathroom cabinet, the grit under the loft hatch, the light on in the cellar. What the hell had Rick been looking for?

  Chapter 38

  Annie, the nurse, showed him through to the far corner of the dayroom where Sophie was already seated.

  ‘Thank you for agreeing to see me,’ he said.

  ‘This better be good.’

  Sophie sounded formal, as though welcoming him to a job interview. Between Sophie now and the Sophie he’d married, lay a huge divide. A plunging, black chasm he didn’t understand and had no desire to peer into.

  Daniel took a seat beside her. Annie stood beside them, her hands clasped in front of her and her legs spread apart, like a sentry.

  ‘I think you’ll want to take a look at these.’

  Daniel laid out the pictures he’d printed from his phone in front of her on the coffee table. He’d spent an hour and a half at reception, trying to get the right person to understand how imperative it was tha
t Sophie got to see them. In the end, the duty psychiatrist would only let Daniel show them to her if Annie was glued to his hip. ‘In case it upsets her,’ she’d said.

  He gave Annie a hard stare in the hope that she might back off a little, but she didn’t shift an inch.

  Daniel put the first picture in Sophie’s hand. ‘Look, this is us. Me, holding you close with my arm around you, leaving Desmond’s newsagents in Highgate. We were on our way to one of those guided walks at the cemetery. You remember?’

  ‘Yes. Yes, I do.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘What is this for, Daniel? To remind me how in love we once were – before you cheated on me?’

  ‘Now, look at this one. Spot the difference?’

  For a surreal moment, Daniel felt like a detective, slapping crime scene shots before a suspect and demanding answers. This shot showed the same pose, but with the altered backdrop – the hotel – and the woman he’d never met in the space beside Daniel. Sophie gasped and a shudder gripped her shoulders.

  ‘This is one of the pictures sent to my office!’ she cried.

  ‘You’ve seen it before?’

  She scrabbled through the pile on the table. ‘Yes – all of these. They’re the same photos. You remember? The ones that had disappeared from my bag by the time I’d got home from work.’ She gritted her teeth. ‘You didn’t believe me!’

  It’s true. He hadn’t believed her. With nothing concrete to show him all along, he’d concluded that everything about the so-called affair was inside her head.

  Annie peered over at the pictures, then looked away nonchalantly when Daniel caught her at it.

  ‘Well. They’re very clever,’ he said, ‘but they’re not real. They’ve been digitally altered.’

  ‘These are fake?’ she cried. ‘This isn’t… these aren’t how it was?’ She lifted each photo close to her face, then compared them with others that looked similar, but which had various alterations. He watched the realisation twist her features with each image.

 

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