Author: Amanda Robson
Category: Thriller
Go to read content：https://onlinereadfreenovel.com/amanda-robson/page,12,560635-my_darling.html
Memories
I leant on my father’s arm. The organ trumpeted me up the aisle to Toccata in Fugue, followed by two cousins I hardly knew, swathed in pink and garlands of rosebuds. Davina and Nicole. Mother had insisted they were my bridesmaids. Past a sea of smiling, turning heads. Friends from Dundee University. Friends from the practice. Towards Colin, and his best man, Tony, a colleague from work who I hardly knew, beaming at me from the front of the church. Colin’s smile making my heart flutter. Towards my mother wreathed in worry. A frown coiling around her from tip to toe.
Colin was so much older than me, his parents had already died. He had squeezed a tear the night before, talking about how much they would have loved to see him meet the woman of his dreams, and marry her. I secretly wasn’t sorry not to be saddled with a mother-in-law. Trying to be nice to my own father was bad enough. Trying not to be angry about my mother’s subservience. From what I had heard from girlfriends, the mother-in-law/daughter-in-law relationship tended to be a nightmare.
Standing at the altar in front of the vicar, a bull of a man, my bouquet of roses and lilies trembling in my fingers, looking into the dark eyes of my fiancé.
Repeating the iconic words: to have and to hold. For better, for worse. For richer, for poorer. In sickness and in health. To love and to cherish, until death do us part.
The wedding ring was slipped on my finger, and I slipped a ring onto his. My heart was seared with happiness. Wrapping a cloth around our ringed hands, the vicar said,
‘Those who God has joined together, let no man put asunder.’
My heart trembled at the power of those words. I was so happy, I wanted nothing more than to press a button and stop my life right there.
But the day moved on. Dripping with Champagne, confetti and photographs. A rich wedding breakfast. Compliments and kisses. Admiration and advice. Sycophantic, insincere speeches, even from my father. But I preferred that to honesty. I glided through the day, a beautiful princess in my silk meringue of a dress. The most beautiful girl in the world.
Something old: my dead grandmother’s necklace. Something new: my wedding dress. Something borrowed: my mother’s pinprick diamond earrings. Something blue: a blue silk garter from Harrods.
We drove away in Colin’s BMW, dragging cans tied together with string, and pans and pan lids. Someone must have put a kipper in the boot. The car stank of smoked fish.
82
Alastair
I have put Stephen to bed and insisted that Mum relax in her bedroom watching EastEnders. Heather is here, sitting on the sofa next to me. She has put on even more weight. Her stomach now looks as if she is six months pregnant. She’s trying to disguise it by wearing a baggy dress, but nothing can camouflage a figure like that. Tangled hair, blotchy skin. Teeth like a donkey’s. How did I ever find her attractive?
‘To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?’ I ask, voice fermenting to vinegar.
She frowns. Her already small eyes narrow. ‘I want some money. Otherwise I’m going to tell people what you did to me.’
My body stills. I thought that whole business was behind us. Heather had made it all up, of course, but that didn’t make facing the investigation any easier.
‘But … but …’ I stutter, hoping to head her off, ‘we’ve already been through this. The CPS dropped the case, several years ago. They’re not going to believe any more of your lies.’
‘I’m not talking about the CPS. I’m just saying I’ll make it known around here.’ She shrugs. ‘In the pubs where Shelly and I drink. I’ll tell Stephen. I’ll tell the staff at his school. Your mother. Your girlfriend.’ She pauses. ‘Actually, I’ve already tried to warn Emma about you. But she wouldn’t listen. Maybe I should tell her the whole truth, just to make sure she really, really understands what you are.’
Pressure rises, pulsating against my skull, pressing against my eardrums. The room fragments into red dots around me. The dots coagulate into a sheet of red. Flames are licking, rising from a furnace beneath. Hotter and hotter. The sheet is white hot. White heat storming through me. It is going to explode if I cannot contain it. I close my eyes. I turn my mind in on itself, and lower my head.
‘Please, Heather, go away. Just get out of here.’
83
Emma
I’m back at the surgery, smiling inside.
Smile and the world smiles with you. Cry and you cry alone.
My mother’s mantra to help her cope with her difficulties. Did that help her tolerate my father for so long? But I am not tolerating anybody or anything. High on freedom and comfort, I’m smiling inside and out, with a genuine smile from deep inside me. Standing outside my surgery, admiring the tumbling willow tree, the brightly coloured border of roses, clematis, hydrangeas and daisies, beyond. I pull my eyes away from this beloved garden, perfectly maintained during my absence, and step inside.
The surgery smells of lavender. Mozart’s horn concertos play quietly from the sound system. Andrea stands up and walks from behind the counter to greet me. Dog’s-tooth culottes and mustard silk blouse today. We hug. We kiss each other’s cheeks.
‘Welcome back.’
I hand her the flowers I have chosen for her. The largest pink and white lilies I could find. And a bottle of vintage Champagne. ‘I will never be able to thank you enough.’
Tania steps from my consulting room, flashing her precise porcelain smile. I walk across and hug her. Her cheap saccharine perfume engulfs me. I hand her a bottle bag containing pink Champagne, her favourite.
‘Thank you so much Tania, for holding it together with all the different locums.’
‘What else would I do?’ she asks.
I smile. ‘Some people would have run a mile with their boss in prison.’
I walk across to the fish tank, and stand watching fish glide around each other like dancers.
‘Wow. You’ve added an angel fish, and … what’s the turquoise one with stripes?’
‘Symphysodon,’ Andrea says.
‘Beautiful,’ I mutter, watching its fins tremble as it swims.
I look across at Tania and Andrea, standing in the middle of the waiting room, staring at me as if they can’t believe I’m actually here.
‘The fish are a present to welcome you back,’ Tania says, head on one side, biting her lip.
And I know from the glint in her eye and the turn of her head that this was her idea.
‘Thank you.’ I swallow to push back tears. I take a deep breath. ‘OK, OK. Back to business. What time is our first patient?’
‘Nine thirty. Botox this morning. Quite a long list,’ Andrea says.
Good, good, I think. Injecting Botox on my first morning back will be far easier than filling teeth.
84
Jade
The air is lighter. Easier to breathe. According to my appropriate adult, Constance, I’m in a secure psychiatric unit, awaiting trial, as I’m a danger to myself and others. I know that, really, but Constance keeps reminding me. And she keeps reminding me that bail was denied on two court applications. First to the Magistrates’, and then to the Crown. Do I remember either of them? If I really push, I do, a little.
I lie on a bed, my room blurring around me, looking across to try and see through the window. A collage of green rotates and dances in front of me. The lock of the door to my room clicks open. I look up; someone is here, walking towards my bed.
‘Hey Jade,’ a female voice asks, ‘how are you feeling today? Are you still crying for Tomas?’
I bite my lip. ‘I will always cry for Tomas. He was my passion. My love.’
‘Do you think he is here now?’ the voice asks softly.
I open my eyes. I shake my head.
‘That’s good. One minute you’re talking to him, crying for him. The next you’re shouting at him and telling him he’s unfaithful.’
The person pulls up a chair and sits next to my bed. It is a woman wearing a grey tweed suit today. Grey upon grey. Grey hair. Grey clothes
. Grey eyes. My psychiatrist, Penny. ‘Are you going to get out of bed and get dressed today?’
I frown. ‘Maybe later.’
‘Has Constance been in?’
Constance. The dumpy one. Appropriate adult. I laugh inside. What a stupid name for the job. Has she been in? So many questions.
‘Not yet,’ I snap. I hear my voice sharp in the air. I know I need to tone it down. If I make too much noise they give me more medication.
Penny pulls a pad and pen from her briefcase. ‘OK. I just want to ask you a few questions.’
More questions. Too many questions. I pull myself up, to sit up in bed. Puffing up my pillows. ‘Fire away,’ I say, trying not to sound aggressive. Aggressive always seems to get me in trouble in the end.
She leans forward, pen in hand. ‘Are you sure he cheated?’
I feel hot. I feel sick. ‘Of course. All my partners have let me down. Tomas was the worst.’
Penny smiles, a soft kind smile. Head on one side. ‘Can you prove he cheated on you? Real proof? Not just clues you manufactured.’
I clench my fist and bang it on the bed. ‘I saw him.’
Her grey eyes lighten. ‘Jade, tell me everything. What did you see?’
I shake my head, teeth clenched. ‘I saw him, hugging her, in the surgery. I watched through the window.’ I pause. ‘Hugging the willowy blonde dentist. The one I knew would get him as soon as I saw her. The one that was so attractive I knew he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off her.’
The memory screams in my head and my nausea increases. Penny makes notes, scratching and scribbling in her pad. She looks up.
‘Were they just hugging to say goodbye at the end of the consultation?’
I begin to cry inside. I want to shout. I want to scream. ‘No. No. He wanted to put his tongue down her throat. He wanted to fuck her. All day and all night.’
Penny inhales deeply. ‘But did you see them snog?’ There is a pause. ‘Or was it a peck?’
I feel tears running down my face. I try, but I can’t stop them. ‘I’m not sure. I can’t remember.’
She leans forwards. ‘Did he ever admit to being unfaithful?’
I wipe my tears with a tissue. ‘No.’
‘Did he ever tell you he wanted to leave you?’
‘No.’ I close my eyes, and see him coming back from dog walks, eyes shining with exhilaration. ‘He kept meeting the last one, Sylvia, when he was walking our old dog. I know because I followed him.’
Sylvia. She was the most unfathomable. So hard to understand what he saw in her. She was old like our dog. Old and ugly. Such an insult that he could run to her from me. At least the dentist is good-looking.
I open my eyes. Penny is looking at me with her still grey eyes, almost silver in the sunlight pooling through the window. ‘What was he doing with Sylvia?’ she asks.
I wince at the memory. ‘Chatting by the lamppost.’
She frowns. ‘Chatting? Only chatting?’
Anger pulsates through the core of my body. ‘They were arranging to meet up. The bastards.’
‘Did you hear that specifically?’
The word ‘specifically’ punches into me and annoys me. Clever fucking Penny trying to trip me up.
‘Specifically,’ I mimic. ‘Fucking specifically. Yes they were fucking muttering. Keeping their voices down. But I knew. They couldn’t fool me, I knew,’ I shout.
Penny puts her hand on my arm. ‘I’m going to up your prescription of aripiprazole.’ There is a pause. ‘I really think it will help.’
I grab her arm and thrust it away. ‘I don’t know why you need to give me more aripiprazole. I’m telling the truth. I’m not delusional.’
‘You do need to take your drugs, Jade. If you take your drugs you will start to feel better. The reason you’ve been so confused is because you stopped taking them.’
‘No. No. There’s nothing wrong. I don’t need them any more.’
‘You do need them. That’s why you’re here. In the psychiatric unit.’
Memories
In a bedroom at the Lygon Arms Hotel, in the Cotswolds, surrounded by stone arches and antiques. Trying to remove the smell of smoked fish from my nostrils by spraying perfume into the air. Unpacking my suitcase containing all my carefully chosen honeymoon finery, I experienced a sudden adrenalin trough. Flopping backwards onto the silken bed, exhausted after so much excitement and euphoria. All I wanted to do was pull the Egyptian cotton sheets around me and sleep. Colin looked at his watch.
‘Come on, it’s seven p.m. Dinner’s booked for seven thirty. You need to crack on and get changed.’
‘Can’t we push it back a bit?’ I asked, bloated after too much Champagne and a late afternoon wedding breakfast.
His face stiffened. ‘Emma, we’re eating at seven thirty. It’s what I’ve arranged.’
‘OK, OK. Great.’
I pulled myself from the bed and forced myself to shower and change. The heat of the shower tumbling against my tired skin imbued me with enhanced energy. I stepped from the bathroom wearing the new dress I chose at L.K.Bennett, feeling like a princess again. Loose-fitting and comfortable, black with lace edging and sleeves. A dress for a pyjama party.
Colin looked across at me and shook his head. ‘You can’t wear that.’
‘Why not?’
‘It’s baggy.’
‘No, it’s tasteful. It was expensive.’
He raised his left hand in the air, and shook his head more vehemently. ‘I don’t care what it cost. I’ve bought you something else. Something more snazzy.’
He reached into the wardrobe and pulled out a large gift bag – gold with a red heart on the side. He handed it to me, pulled me towards him and kissed me. ‘For my beautiful wife.’ There was a pause. ‘You can put these on now.’
I opened the bag. A red silk dress with large gold buttons. Very ‘look at me’. Handbag and shoes to match.
‘Thank you,’ I gasped.
He looked at his watch. ‘Hurry up Emma, we can’t be late for our special meal tonight.’
I changed into his gift as quickly as possible, and even managed to find a lipstick in my handbag with a similar tone. Red upon red. Little Red Riding Hood.
I looked at myself in the full-length mirror in the corner of the room. So bright, so garish, it made me look pale as a ghost. Colin stood behind me, wrapping his arms around my body. He put his head on my shoulder to look at my reflection.
‘Lady in red, you look so beautiful,’ he said, kissing my ear. He fumbled in his pocket and produced a jewel box. He handed it to me. ‘I wanted to give you this as a reminder of today.’
I opened the box. Ruby earrings. Stones as big as rocks. He took them one at a time and put them in my ears. So large I thought they were going to tear my earlobe as I looked at myself in the mirror. I have never thought red suited me. My colouring is too pale. Garish jewellery has never been my thing. But for Colin I will do this. I will be his Lady in Red tonight. That insipid song blasted into my mind.
‘Thank you,’ I repeated, turning to kiss him on the lips. His lips clung to mine. I pulled away.
He patted my bottom. ‘Let’s go and eat.’
The restaurant was empty. We were the only diners.
A flurry of waiters greeted us, leading us to our table by the window.
‘Where is everyone?’ I asked.
‘I paid the hotel the amount they would have made if they had been open to the public tonight, to keep it just for us.’
‘It must have cost a fortune.’
Colin smiled. ‘It did and I’m not telling you how much.’
Waiters dressed in black tie pulled out our chairs, placed cushions behind our backs, and tucked us in to the table. They bowed as they receded, fawning and obsequious. Another stood over us, a bottle in each hand.
‘Still or sparkling?’ he chirruped.
‘Sparkling for both of us,’ Colin replied.
‘What do you fancy to eat?’ I asked him.
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He leant across the table and took my hand in his. ‘I’ve already ordered. We’re having sweetbreads for starters. Sea bass with coriander, lime and ginger, followed by bread and butter pudding.’ There was a pause. ‘Does it suit you?’
I don’t like fish, or offal. I rarely eat pudding and, if I do, I would rather just have fruit. I would rather have eaten in a vibrant restaurant with a choice. But, flattered by his overwhelming attention, I replied, ‘Yes, lovely, thanks.’
We ate slowly, washing down the meal with expensive wine; heavy, with an aftertaste. We finished our meal.
He wiped his mouth with his linen napkin and smiled across at me. ‘That was good. But the best part of the evening is yet to come.’
In the bedroom, he undressed me, slowly. Red silk slinking into a pile on the floor. He stepped back to admire my body.
‘I have another present for you.’
Another flamboyant parcel appeared from the wardrobe. I sat on the bed to open it. A red and white box containing a nurse’s outfit. Not a real one. It looked like a child’s dressing-up outfit. Short blue dress. White apron with a red cross on. A plastic stethoscope as well.
‘Come and make Daddy better,’ he said with a grin.
My heart raced. My stomach tightened.
‘I’m a woman, not a doll,’ I told him.
85
Alastair
Sitting in my lab, wearing my full sterilisation suit, starting the forensics for a new case. Operation Titular – Max Jones – T3178. Taking swabs from a bottle. I sigh inside as I pull off my gloves and fling them in the bin. I reach for a new pair and stretch them carefully over my fingers. I smile inside, as I remember pulling you towards me, and you whispering in my ear:
‘No words can explain how grateful I am.’
I’m riding high on love, excited about the future of our relationship. A relationship I can rely on at last.