The Leaving Party: An absolutely gripping and addictive psychological thriller

by Lesley Sanderson

  Ben had been asking me to come and live in the States for years. It started after university. Once he’d finished his degree, he had to return to America; he’d secured a position working for a bank in New York, and it was too good an opportunity to miss. I’d resisted for so long because I couldn’t leave Lena behind after everything she’d done for me. How Lena and I felt about each other was how I imagine twins must feel. But circumstances had changed and it was time we became less bound up with one another. It’s hard for her to accept, as she’s the one being left behind, but Ben is my future, and she has to move on.

  The kitchen is empty now save for Kate, who I was introduced to earlier. She’s filling a small plate with biscuits, cheese, gherkins and tiny rolled-up stuffed vine leaves. She smiles at me before heading off into the garden. Steph dances in from the other room, leaning against the counter and holding her side.

  ‘I’m exhausted,’ she says. ‘It’s been ages since I had a good dance. Remember that club we used to go to over in Highgate? We’d spend hours on the dance floor without even stopping for a drink. I don’t know where I used to get the energy from to stay up all night.’

  We both laugh.

  ‘It’s a brilliant party, just listen,’ she says. We’re quiet for a moment, hear the house vibrating with the thumping music and the loud chatter and laughter that mingles in the air. ‘What are you drinking?’

  I look around for my glass. ‘Punch, but there’s only so much of it I can cope with.’

  Steph laughs. ‘I agree. Gin and tonic for madam?’

  ‘Great.’ I smile at her. ‘I’m so glad you’re here. I wonder what time Ben will arrive.’ I go to check my phone before remembering that I can’t find it. I guess he’ll assume I’m busy with the party. He knows I’m not the kind of person who’s sticking photos on Instagram every minute.

  ‘Lena was telling me you’ve written a piece recently.’ Steph mixes some tonic into my drink.

  My cheeks flush. ‘It’s nothing special, just something I’m working on.’ I’ve been surprised at how easily composing has come back to me, and how much I have to say. ‘Maybe we could hear it later?’

  ‘Oh no, who would want to hear me play the piano?’

  ‘I think your friends would very much like it. I know I would. What I don’t understand is why you ever stopped.’

  I take the glass she’s offering me, hoping she doesn’t see the flush that rushes to my cheeks, my fingers stiffening like they used to when I tried to play. Steph has become a good friend and I’d love to be able to tell her the real reason my mind and body froze whenever I sat down to play. If I hadn’t been invited to that assembly …

  ‘Too busy, I guess,’ I say lamely.

  ‘Actually,’ Steph says, ‘I rather think Lena might be hoping you’ll play for us.’

  ‘Really?’ My face feels even hotter.

  ‘Please don’t say anything. I don’t want to spoil her surprise, but I thought I’d better check you don’t hate the idea.’

  I chew at my lip, considering, wiggling my fingers against my thigh.

  ‘No, I’m flattered.’ Ben has never heard me play, which makes me want him to be here this evening more than ever, but I don’t want to jinx it by saying it out loud. Dad must have known Lena wanted me to play. I wondered why he insisted on waiting until tomorrow to move the piano.

  ‘Shall we go back in and dance?’ Steph says.

  I nod, following her through to the living room, which is a heaving mass of sweating bodies, glistening foreheads, waving arms and raised glasses. Friends who haven’t spoken to me yet come over, and I’m feeling much more relaxed. Chatting about my plans make it feel even more real, and the music and the alcohol are making me tingle with excitement.

  After a while, sweat is trickling down my back and I decide I need fresh air. I check the garden but can’t see any sign of Pete. An image flashes before me: Pete’s face close enough for me to smell the tobacco on his breath. I gag, tasting the punch. I’ve had enough alcohol; time for something refreshing. Without thinking, I open the fridge, only to be confronted by the black cake, the number 13 glaring out at me. I rub my arms, and it’s not the fridge that’s making me feel cold.

  ‘That’s an interesting cake.’ Fiona’s voice makes me jump, and I slam the door so hard the fridge vibrates. She visibly recoils. ‘You look like a ghost. Are you OK? Here,’ she pulls out a chair, ‘sit down.’ She fusses around the table until she locates a bottle of sparkling water, and pours me a glass, sitting opposite me. ‘Are you feeling overwhelmed?’

  ‘Something like that. That weird cake was delivered earlier and I don’t know who sent it.’ As I recount what happened, I’m aware how ridiculous it sounds and the panicked fluttering in my chest slows down. Fiona tidies up glasses and plates of food debris on the table as I’m talking.

  ‘The card will have fallen off, that’s all. Make sure you’re not the first to sample it. I heard your creepy boss was here. Let him have the first slice.’

  We both laugh, and I drink some water.

  ‘That’s more like it. Do you fancy something alcoholic now?’ She wrinkles her nose at the punch, which is down to mostly fruit, and holds up a bottle of gin.

  ‘No, water’s fine, but you go ahead.’

  ‘I’m not drinking, actually.’ She rubs the label on the bottle and her face flushes red. My eyes flicker to her lap, where her cardigan covers a slight bump.

  ‘Oh my God, you’re pregnant, aren’t you?’

  A huge smile lights up her face and her cheeks glow.

  ‘I’m so happy for you. Is it a boy or a girl?’

  ‘A surprise. I don’t want to know. Malcolm wants a boy. He’s probably right. Teenage girls are so troublesome, aren’t they?’

  A flash of red springs into my mind, angry words hurled from a girl in a sparkly dress.

  ‘Congratulations,’ I say.

  ‘And to you too.’

  ‘I hope I’m doing the right thing.’

  ‘What makes you say that? You’ve been talking about it for years.’

  I rub at an invisible spot on my knee. ‘I feel terrible about leaving Lena behind.’

  Fiona’s face crumples into a frown. ‘She’ll be fine. Lena’s a tough cookie. She’s always known how to look after herself.’

  I rub even harder at my knee. ‘I know it used to annoy you when she was always coming up to Cambridge, but she was only looking out for me; that’s why I’m so indebted to her. She was a huge support when I was going through a difficult time.’

  ‘I suspected as much. I wanted to support you too, but I could see you didn’t want to talk about it.’ She puts her hand over mine to stop me worrying at my tights. Instinctively I move my hand to my shoulder. ‘You didn’t go and see the student counsellor for fun. You’re lucky to have such a devoted friend. With Skype, you’ll never be far apart. You and Ben are still going strong after years of practice.’

  ‘It feels disloyal after she’s given me so much help. Now that I’m fine, I’m flitting off and abandoning her.’

  ‘Even more reason for her to be thrilled at the way you’ve blossomed. You’re spreading your wings. If you love someone, you’re meant to let them go, everyone knows that. I bet you anything you’re worrying unnecessarily.’

  A cold draught blows in through the open door, and I shiver. The music in the other room ramps up in volume. I hope Fiona is right.

  Thirteen

  Lena

  The hall is empty, everyone stuffed into the living room. Someone is messing with the music, keeps turning it up and down. The volume surges again as I open the door to see a bulky figure with his back to me. Gareth. He’s got on the battered leather jacket he’s been wearing ever since I can remember. He hitches his faded jeans up in a familiar gesture.

  ‘Gareth.’

  He turns around, clutching something to his chest. I assume it’s a bottle of wine, until he steps forward. It’s a rose.

  ‘For me?’ I’m joking – I k
now it’s for Ava. No other girl exists for Gareth; it’s been that way since school, when he used to gaze at her from behind his history textbook. ‘You’re late. That’s not like you.’ Give him a chance to see Ava, and he’s usually the first to arrive.

  ‘I had to work late. Are you going to let me in?’

  ‘Of course. Come and have some of my delicious punch.’ I know he won’t; safe, predictable Gareth is strictly a beer man.

  ‘No thanks. I’ve brought some cans.’ He hands me a carrier bag.

  ‘Drinks are in the kitchen.’ I lead him through the dark hallway.

  ‘Where’s Ava? I want to give her this.’ Up close, I notice the rose is black, the stem wrapped in tin foil.

  ‘Did you drop one of those round earlier? Someone left something similar outside.’

  ‘Not me. I’ve been at work.’

  I open kitchen cupboards, slamming each door as I’m confronted with empty spaces. The slender crystal vase I’m looking for is Ava’s and it’s gone. Of course it is.

  ‘It’s a bit empty in here, isn’t it?’ Gareth asks.

  ‘Too right it is.’ I give up looking and rinse out an empty wine bottle, half filling it with water. ‘Here, give me that.’

  Gareth hands over the rose before moving to the window. He’s spotted Ava.

  ‘Who’s she with?’ He’s practically pressing his nose against the glass.

  I glance outside, where Ava is chatting to Felix, her face lit up by the fire he’s started. Gareth hitches his trousers up again, and his jaw tightens.

  ‘He’s the partner of someone she works with. Honestly, Gareth, there’s no point getting jealous. She’s engaged to Ben, remember.’

  ‘That won’t last.’ He takes a long drink from his can. ‘Living together won’t be easy after all this time apart, and she’ll be homesick. Remember how she was at university. She needed you, still does in my opinion. She also needs a man who can be around to look after her.’

  ‘What, like you, you mean? Give it up, Gareth. It was years ago that you went out with her.’ His shoulders stiffen and I soften my voice. ‘I know it’s hard when you like someone, but …’ It has to be said.

  He shuffles around, looking down at his scruffy trainers. ‘She hasn’t told you, has she?’

  ‘Told me what?’

  He continues watching Ava in the garden, his gaze intent. Smoke is now billowing up into the sky, and the smell filters through the open doors. There’s a strange smirk on his face, and I wonder if he’s been drinking on his way over. He’s not usually like this.

  ‘Obviously she doesn’t share everything with you, otherwise she’d have told you about us.’

  ‘When you were in sixth form?’ I laugh out loud. ‘Seriously?’

  ‘That’s not what I mean. I’m talking about now.’

  ‘What? She’s engaged to Ben.’

  ‘Where is he then?’

  ‘He’s on his way, he’s been delayed – but keep that to yourself, it’s a surprise.’

  ‘You don’t see it even if it’s going on right under your nose. Something happened with me and Ava. The other week, when you’d gone to bed, remember?’

  ‘Ye-es.’ I was shattered that night, on my feet at work from eight till ten covering a shift, making conversation with clients, running around after useless juniors. Ava insisted I accompany her, as she always did when Gareth invited her out for a drink. ‘Just one,’ she promised. Three pints at the pub, Ava drunk, unusually so for her, and I hadn’t the energy to stop him inviting himself in for coffee. I left them to it, sitting on the sofa. Ava was different that night, it’s true, but I didn’t think anything of it at the time.

  ‘I stayed over,’ he says. ‘I woke really early, left before you got up.’

  I’m rapidly recalling the next morning. I had a day off, and I always sleep in when I get the chance. A sick feeling churns in my stomach.

  Gareth’s lips twitch. ‘Ben needs to know, so it’s good to hear he’s on his way. Ava likes to spring surprises on people at parties. Remember that party back in the day?’ He swigs more beer.

  How can he bring that party up? As if I’d ever forget it.

  ‘She dumped me that night. I’m pretty sure she’s going to do the same to Ben when he turns up this evening. It’s karma. I like that. Parallel lives. She won’t be going anywhere.’

  If only that were true, but I’m not taking what Gareth is telling me seriously. She wouldn’t cheat on Ben. And if she did, she would tell me, I’m sure of it.

  Just then, Ava and Steph come in from the garden. They stop in their tracks when Ava sees Gareth. He picks up the wine bottle with the rose in and hands it to her, his expression hopeful, making me feel sorry for him. She looks at him in horror and lets it drop. The bottle smashes on the white tiles, shards of green glass everywhere, petals scattering in a dark trail as the rose hits the floor.

  ‘Ava, what’s up?’ Steph looks baffled, her eyes moving from Ava to the shattered bottle. ‘You’ve gone completely white.’

  ‘It’s been you all along,’ Ava says to Gareth, her voice quivering. ‘All these years, you’ve been tormenting me, terrifying me.’

  Steph grabs a broom from the corner of the room, her eyes crinkled with concern. ‘What are you talking about?’ she asks, sweeping the fragments of glass into a pile.

  ‘The roses,’ Ava says, her voice catching as if the words are scratching her throat. ‘You’ve pretended to be my friend when all the time it’s you who’s been sending them to me.’

  Gareth picks up the rose that is lying at his feet. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. It was meant to be a nice gesture.’

  ‘You could at least admit it. You’re doing it because I don’t want to be with you. You’re just jealous of Ben.’

  ‘Ben! He’s not here. He can’t even be bothered to come to your party.’

  ‘He will be.’ She throws me an anguished look, and I reach out, rub her arm.

  ‘Long-distance relationships never work,’ he says.

  ‘When will you stop, Gareth? Why won’t you listen? Surely you must have got the message by now? I’m leaving. I’m moving to New York. And after tonight, I never want to see you again.’

  Gareth grips the back of the chair in front of him. ‘You don’t mean that.’

  Steph puts the glass in the bin, looking concerned.

  ‘Why haven’t you told Lena about us?’ he asks.

  I pour myself a glass of rosé from a wine box on the table.

  ‘Why haven’t you told her?’ Gareth asks again. ‘Didn’t that night mean anything to you? Let’s hope Ben hurries up and gets here. Then we’ll see what he thinks about what happened.’

  Music thuds in the background and all eyes in the kitchen are on Ava. And not in a ‘we’re so happy to be here at your party and we’re all wishing you a good send-off’ way. She glances around, a panicked expression on her face, then rushes out of the room.

  One pair of eyes in particular draws my gaze, deep-set and unblinking. What is she doing here? I blink, and she’s no longer there.

  Fourteen

  2005

  Lena had to push Ava into the room, placing a discreet hand on her back. Danny was amongst a group of seven boys, and the only ones Ava knew were the older boys who were at school with Martha. This wasn’t a good idea.

  ‘Don’t make me do this.’ She was aware of the girls in the corner watching them, sniggering. It had been a mistake to come here, and she wished she were back in her bedroom, sitting on the floor and playing CDs.

  Lena took her arm. ‘They’re just boys, Ava. If you had a brother, you’d know how insignificant they are. Well, mostly.’ She threw a glance towards Danny, who was fooling around, laughing with his friend who was balancing a beer can on his forehead. ‘I know exactly what you need.’

  She dragged Ava into the kitchen, where the overhead light was on, making her blink at the unexpected brightness.

  ‘Can I have a glass of water?’ she asked. She
sat on a wooden chair, glad that the kitchen was empty.

  ‘Water?’ Lena waved a hand to indicate the bottles and cans crammed onto the counter. ‘What you need is a proper drink, settle your nerves.’ She looked around at what was on offer, then peered into the punch bowl, pouring some into a plastic cup. ‘More punch,’ she said, ‘strong, just like you need.’

  ‘I’m not sure.’ Ava didn’t want to drink too much, but at least the cups were small.

  Lena, however, ignored the stack of small glasses, taking a large one from the cupboard and filling it. The glass said Guinness on the side, which was what Lena’s grandpa drank with his mates in the pub. He swore by it too – said the dark Irish stout was what kept him strong. Her grandma even had a can with her lunch.

  Lena passed the glass of punch to Ava, who closed her eyes and took a mouthful. The liquid burned into her throat and stomach, making her cough. But she felt warmer, and after a few moments her whole body seemed to relax, followed by a little burst of adrenalin. Lena always knew what was best for her.

  ‘Better?’ Lena asked. ‘You’re not so deathly white now; your cheeks are pink.’ She topped up the glass. ‘Drink up.’

  Ava was glowing now. She felt better, braver. Tingles all over her skin.

  ‘Not too much,’ she said. ‘I don’t want to be ill.’

  ‘For goodness’ sake, Ava. You’re not turning into Martha, are you? Trust me, I’ve been drinking this stuff since I was thirteen. It’s never done me any harm.’

  ‘That’s what I mean. Your body is used to it. Mine isn’t.’ Ava giggled. ‘I think it’s in shock right now.’ She drank some more and laughed.

  Someone turned the music up in the next room, and she jumped to her feet.

  ‘I want to dance.’ She started to jig about. ‘I love this song.’ It was a high-energy dance track with a bustling beat. Her heart raced along with the insistent thrum of the bass as if it might burst.