The Leaving Party: An absolutely gripping and addictive psychological thriller

by Lesley Sanderson

  ‘I see Kate’s here,’ he says.

  ‘I was just looking for her. Did you invite her?’

  ‘Not me. I try and keep out of her way. She’s a bit of a head case.’

  ‘What makes you say that?’

  ‘Let’s say she took our break-up a little harder than I expected. Bombarded me with texts.’

  ‘Hmm. And I wonder what she’d say about you.’

  He grins. ‘Pour us a glass of that wine, will you, and sit down.’

  I lower myself next to him on the bench and he sips at the wine. The music carries from the house, floating on the breeze towards us. The lights are on next door and I wonder if it’s too loud, but it’s hard to care. Each time I remember that we have to move out tomorrow, that Ava’s leaving me, she’s been hiding things from me, it’s like everything that matters in my life is swept aside. Nothing makes sense without her.

  ‘Why are you here?’ I ask. After everything Ava’s told me about Pete, I have no idea why he’d want to come to her party.

  ‘Hey.’ Kate walks over to us, interrupting, her breath white against the dark surrounding us. Over by the bonfire, Felix and a couple of others look to be getting the fireworks ready. I get up and wander over to warm my hands, and she follows.

  ‘Ava says––’

  ‘Bloody hell, it’s freezing,’ Pete says, appearing next to us.

  I move closer to the bonfire. I must look ridiculous in my clingy party dress, shivering in the cold November night.

  ‘I can smell the potatoes cooking,’ he adds. ‘It’s making me hungry.’

  ‘Not too long to wait now,’ Felix says, throwing more wood on the fire. ‘There’s a tight schedule for this evening, so I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until Steph gives the go-ahead to eat. Everything must run smoothly or else my life won’t be worth living. She says you’ve got another surprise planned too, Lena.’

  ‘Oh yeah?’ Pete looks at me.

  ‘Everybody will just have to wait and see,’ I say, watching Felix poking at the foil-wrapped potatoes with the long fork he’s holding, spreading the burning wood evenly, jumping back as the fire spits at him. Something clangs as the fork hits metal.

  ‘What’s that?’ he says, leaning towards the fire. He pokes around and lifts the fork, a metal frame dangling from it. It glows with a blue tinge. ‘I wonder how that got there.’

  ‘Weird,’ Pete says. ‘Maybe it was already on the ground.’

  Felix shakes his head. ‘I don’t remember seeing it.’

  ‘Doesn’t really matter as long as the food’s cooking,’ Pete says, and Felix laughs.

  Pete slings the frame away from the bonfire and it lands near my feet. I take a closer look. It’s rectangular, and has a dent in one corner. Despite the raging heat of the fire, my blood runs cold. I know exactly what this is.

  ‘I’m going to the bathroom,’ I say to nobody in particular, my voice trembling. I hurry into the house, adrenalin firing me up as I speed through the lounge.

  ‘Great party,’ a man says, and I throw a thank you at whoever it was without stopping.

  I’m hoping I’m wrong; I’m praying as I rush up the stairs. But in my room, the broken glass from the mirror is in a heap on the floor where I left it, but the newspaper clipping that I have treasured for so many years is gone. I picture the burning paper shrivelling as the heat devours it, the frame the only bit left behind. I try not to care – the words are imprinted in my memory anyway – but I can’t help it. The article marks the turning point in my life; the moment that changed everything. Who would be trying to hurt me like this? A face looms in my mind against the burning background.

  I open my bedroom window and lean out, breathing in the smoky air. Pete and Kate have moved back to the bench, and Felix is sipping a beer, his garden fork leaning against the tree. The flames pick up the dull sheen of the metal frame discarded on the trampled grass. Tears spring into my eyes and I sniff them back.

  I watch as a few people emerge into the garden, but I don’t see who I’m looking for. I know exactly who is behind this and I won’t let her get away with it. It has to be Martha. How dare she sneer at me? Why shouldn’t I feel proud of myself? I saved my best friend’s life – her sister – and for some reason she is punishing me for it. I clench and unclench my fists, trying to calm my breathing, to ease the tight feeling in my chest. Sue and David taking me in when I was sixteen was the best thing that could have happened to me. Whenever I think about how my life could have turned out, Sue’s kindness and her belief in me feel like warm hands wrapped around mine.

  I close my bedroom door and head downstairs. I need a drink. A balloon pops, followed by a shriek. The music suddenly stops. The party can’t end yet. It’s not even midnight. We have food and fireworks, and nothing will stop that; whoever is trying to sabotage this party won’t win.

  I race into the living room, where Ava stands surrounded by a group of people whose expressions I can’t read. But the emotion on Ava’s face is clear to see. Her mouth is slightly open and her eyes are wide. She looks terrified.

  Twenty-Nine

  2005

  Lena stood in the doorway, her heart pounding in her chest. Ava was dancing with Danny. How could she? She watched the way her best friend leaned into the boy she fancied, how he ran his hands up and down her back. Danny was oblivious to everything in the room apart from Ava; she could tell by the glassy look in his eyes. They were rocking slowly in a circle, and eventually Ava was facing her. She saw the moment Ava registered her presence and stiffened, momentarily interrupting the rhythm of their bodies moving in unison.

  Lena twisted her hands together, unable to tear her eyes away. Boys were only ever after one thing, she knew that; everyone knew that. She had made a special effort to look her best for Danny; she’d shaved her legs and smothered herself in an intoxicating Clarins body lotion she’d found in Ava’s mum’s room. Clarins was one of those brands with expensive-looking women guarding their beauty counter, sending undesirables away with their painted-on eyebrows and over-made-up stares. Lena had made herself look as good as she could for Danny, only to have Ava take her place. But Ava wasn’t interested in him, surely? She was meant to be her best friend. Her sister.

  She and Ava had a connection, despite their differences. But Ava was drunk, didn’t know what she was doing. She was so naïve. She had a loving family, a family who looked after her in ways Lena had never known. She had everything, and yet she’d gone and stolen Danny from right under Lena’s nose.

  Thirty

  Ava

  ‘That looked a bit intense back there,’ Steph says as we make our way into the lounge. ‘Did I interrupt something?’

  ‘Yeah … Lena was talking about coming with me to New York. She’s found a course and everything.’ Maybe I could tell Steph about the photos, how someone wants to obliterate me.

  ‘She’s got to be joking?’

  ‘She definitely isn’t. At first I wasn’t sure about the idea, but if I’m honest, it would make things easier for me.’

  ‘Seriously? Don’t be silly. You’re going to be with Ben; neither of you wants her tagging along like a gooseberry, do you? I know how close you two are, but do you think it’s healthy?’

  I shrug. She wouldn’t understand. ‘We go back a long way, we’ve been through so much together. It’s complicated.’ I can’t tell her the whole story – no one knows the whole story.

  ‘Is everything OK with you and Ben?’ Steph asks hesitantly.

  ‘Of course.’ I twist a strand of hair that has fallen free.

  ‘Sure? You don’t sound convinced.’

  ‘It’s just a small thing. Last time we spoke, he sounded a little bit strange, as if he had something on his mind, but when I asked him about it, he said everything was fine. But you know when you get a feeling about something?’ I recall his face on the screen, the darkness under his eyes, which seemed unable to connect to mine. Ordinarily he’d lie on his bed to Skype me, hand propping up his head, la
zy grin making me melt inside. Last time, though, he was perched on the edge of his sofa, laptop wobbling on his knees, his mouth a serious line.

  Steph leans close to me, the music so loud she is practically shouting in my ear.

  ‘It’ll be fine. You’re making a big change to your relationship and you’re both bound to be nervous. That’s all. And if you’re struggling at first, having Lena there won’t make it easier; it will add a whole load of new stress. You talk about Gareth being obsessed with you; don’t you think she is too?’

  ‘No, it isn’t like that.’ But I can’t explain – how can I? This surprise party full of my friends is all down to Lena; even talking about her like this makes me feel disloyal.

  ‘Come on,’ Steph says. ‘Forget all that crap, let’s dance.’

  Her mood is infectious, and I follow her into the living room, throwing myself into the rhythm of the music, shutting out my chattering thoughts. A couple of other people join us. I move in a slow circle, looking at every part of the room, taking it all in, remembering when Lena originally brought me into this house, her surprise. She did good that time.

  I’m hot and sweaty, and I pause to grab my glass. I remember the champagne Martha brought with her and wonder where she is. Moving my body in time with the music, I swivel to take in the other end of the room, where a couple are sitting on the sofa that Lena and I have spent so many hours on watching box sets and reality shows. I look at the black shelves next to the couch, which seem so empty now, almost ominous in the half-light, my romance novels and thrillers donated to the charity shop. My eyes alight on the middle shelf, which is no longer empty; someone must have dumped something on it. I dance closer, smiling as I pass a friend from the gym. I tilt my head and narrow my eyes to get a better view; I’ve definitely drunk too much. It’s a vase, a tall, slender black glass vase I’ve never seen before. Inside it are three black roses, almost elegant with their long-thorned stems and inky petals – except I know the terrifying meaning behind them. The music stops momentarily as the track changes, and I let out a scream.

  The room swirls and the edges of my vision are blackening, as dark as the roses that loom in front of me. I place my hand on the wall and breathe deeply, trying to regain my balance.

  ‘Ava, what’s the matter?’ Steph is wide-eyed, looking around to see what can possibly have upset me. I reach over and switch the music off. The silence is abrupt, like a shot in the dark.

  ‘Who put that there?’ I point a shaking finger at the vase. Steph goes to the bookcase and lifts it down.

  ‘Are you talking about this?’ She looks perplexed, her eyes moving from me to the other people in the room, who are looking on, puzzled and curious.

  The floor is holding my attention now; I can’t bear to look at the vase any more. I’m frozen, unable to speak. I shake my head.

  ‘Who brought these flowers?’ Steph asks.

  Nobody steps forward, like I knew they wouldn’t. Everyone is a potential suspect.

  ‘Please, this is important,’ I say in a wobbly voice. Gareth walks in from the kitchen. ‘Gareth, did you put those roses there?’

  He sees everyone staring and clutches the bottle in his hand tighter. ‘Of course not. Where’s Lena? I already told her I found that rose outside. I wish I hadn’t bothered now.’ He looks genuinely bewildered, and I’m sure he’s telling the truth.

  ‘Did anybody see who brought these roses? They weren’t there when the party started.’ I look around and take in the bemused expressions of these people – my friends – everyone looking at me as if I’m a crazy woman ranting in the street. ‘Please,’ I’m sobbing now, my words coming out in a gulp, ‘who is sending these? Why won’t you stop, why won’t you leave me alone?’

  Steph thuds the vase down on the table and droplets of inky water rain down on the floor. Lena appears in the doorway.

  ‘What’s happened to the music?’ She stops when she sees me, looks at the roses. ‘I’ve got this,’ she says. ‘Put the tunes back on, it’s nothing to worry about.’

  The music starts again and conversations pick up. Lena puts her arms around me and I sob into her chest. ‘Why are you so upset?’ she asks.

  ‘Those roses, they weren’t here earlier, I know they weren’t. I cleared everything off those shelves.’ Lena’s arms stiffen, then hold me tighter.

  ‘You see now, don’t you?’ she says. ‘The person who put that vase there is at the party. But nobody in here knows what’s going on.’ She moves her hand from my back to indicate the rest of the room, who are mostly now having earnest conversations and casting curious glances my way.

  ‘Why are the roses bothering you so much, Ava?’ Steph asks. ‘I don’t understand.’

  I feel as if my head is going to burst. All these people are here for me, but the only person I want to see is Ben. Why has he still not arrived? My stomach clenches at the thought that something terrible might have happened to him. Whoever is doing this is trying to hurt me; what better way to do that than by harming Ben?

  Thoughts race through my mind, so many questions. Is Gareth telling the truth? Could it be Martha? Can I trust anyone? The roses have been sticking their thorns into me for thirteen years. And now, for the first time, their sender is right here.

  Thirty-One

  Lena

  I lead Ava out of the living room, leaving Steph behind. The kitchen is empty save for a couple of women, who go back next door when they see us, talking in low voices and looking concerned. We sit down and I smooth Ava’s hair out of her eyes. She takes a tissue from the box we keep on the table and wipes her mascara-streaked face.

  ‘We have to find out who is doing this to you,’ I say, ‘and why. But you know what I think.’

  Her hands tremble and she hesitates before the words rush out. ‘When I saw that vase, I just lost my mind. It wasn’t there earlier, was it? I remember you saying how empty the room felt this afternoon, and I had a good look around as I was feeling nostalgic – that’s why I can remember the empty shelves. I was even reminiscing about the day you put them up. I’m gutted to leave, Lena, you must understand that. We’ve had a great time in this house.’

  It’s the roses that are driving her away, I think, forcing her to leave. Does she really want to get married, or is it simply a means of escape? When I manage to prove to her who is doing this, she’ll want to stay, she will. She needs me.

  ‘My make-up has run,’ she says. ‘I must look a right state. It’s a good job Ben isn’t here.’ Her smile is unconvincing. ‘Maybe you were right when you said that something’s up with him. I’m worried now, with all these weird things that are happening. What if he’s been hurt – deliberately – and that’s why he isn’t here?’

  ‘No, I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry, I was just frustrated. You mustn’t worry.’

  ‘I’m scared to trust anyone. I think I believe Gareth, don’t you?’

  ‘I do. He’s odd, I know, but … There is one other suspect,’ I say.

  Our eyes meet.

  ‘You mean Martha.’

  I nod. ‘It makes sense. Why is she here? I don’t trust her. Have you asked her about the other roses?’

  ‘Yes. She didn’t know what I was talking about. I believed her, I think.’ She chews on her lip. ‘She said she wanted to sort things out with me before I go away.’

  ‘But why now?’

  ‘Mum persuaded her.’

  ‘She’s trying to turn you against me, that’s what her real purpose is.’

  ‘But why would she do that when I’m about to move abroad? It doesn’t make sense.’

  ‘Because she thinks I’ve taken her place and it’s gone on for long enough.’

  ‘She hates us being close, she told me that. But there’s room for both of you, can’t you see?’

  ‘I don’t trust her and you shouldn’t either. Look, I didn’t want to tell you this because it will worry you, but I have to now. Someone threw my framed newspaper article into the fire. Felix found th
e frame, and when I checked in my room, it had gone. It looks like someone is out to get us both. And you know who was making fun of that article being up on my wall earlier? Martha, that’s who. You need to be careful—’

  ‘Why does she need to be careful?’ a cut-glass voice interrupts us. We both spin around. My heart thumps against my chest.

  Martha leans nonchalantly against the wall, her make-up still immaculate, poised as if she’s going off for a television shoot. I stand up.

  ‘You planted the vase of black roses there, didn’t you? It’s you who’s been sending them to Ava. That’s why you’re back, admit it.’

  ‘Black roses? What vase? I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘Yeah, right.’ Of course she’s denying it. ‘They weren’t there when the party started. Now you’re here, and the roses appear. In a vase that doesn’t even belong to this house.’

  ‘I’ve already discussed this with Ava. What you’re saying is ridiculous. I’m just one of loads of other people here. And so what if someone has odd taste in flowers? It was meant to be a gift, surely?’

  I’m about to reply when a flash of pink colours the scene, and Lorraine, Ava’s running buddy from down the road, appears at Martha’s side. In her skin-tight denim jeggings and neon-pink vest top that shows off her muscled arms, she looks tiny compared to Martha.

  ‘I’ve just realised who you are,’ she says. ‘Honestly, I’ve been racking my brain ever since I first saw you this evening, and it’s finally come to me.’ She giggles, letting out a girlish tinkle. ‘It was only when Donna was talking about television chat shows that I realised. You’re Martha Thomas, of course; you interviewed that comedian last week and it was a hoot. And you’re Ava’s sister. How did I not know that, Ava? You kept it very quiet!’ Her ponytail bounces up and down as she talks. ‘What’s it like being on television? I’m a huge fan of yours.’