Читать книгу Tell Me No Lies: A gripping psychological thriller with a twist you won't see coming - Lisa Hall - Страница 15

CHAPTER EIGHT

I wake up early the next morning, the previous evening with Laurence on my mind. I had forgotten how nice it was to spend an evening with someone who is mentally present, as well as physically. Mark always has to rush off to check work emails, or make phone calls, leaving me feeling as though our spending a quiet evening together is inconveniencing him, forcing him to take time out of his busy schedule. It didn’t feel like that with Laurence – he listened to me without comment, without making me feel as though I needed to weigh up every word before I spoke. I am always so conscious of what I say to Mark, wary of saying the wrong thing in case he thinks I’m sliding backwards to how it was before. There was none of that yesterday evening – I felt relaxed, not at all on edge. I forgot how nice it is just to be Steph, not Mark’s wife, or Henry’s mum, just me, spending the evening with someone who wanted to be there, who didn’t have a million other things he needed to be doing. I leave the house early, in the hope I can catch Lila before she goes out anywhere. I’m still not entirely sure what she actually does for a living. Despite us becoming so close over the past few weeks, every time I ask her she brushes me away, saying her job is terribly boring and often changing the subject. I’ve come to the conclusion that either she has a terribly rich family and has no need to work but is too embarrassed to tell me, or she really does have some rubbish boring job, like stuffing envelopes from home or something.

I ring her doorbell, even though it’s only eight a.m., and keep an eye on Henry as he whizzes backwards and forwards on his scooter across the garden paths. I am about to turn and walk away when suddenly the door is wrenched open and Lila appears in her dressing gown, hair tousled as if she has just got out of bed.

‘Oh, God, Lila, I’m sorry, I thought you would be up – did I wake you?’ I pull an apologetic face, feeling awful. There’s nothing I hate more than being woken up. She smiles at me, pale-faced, pulling her dressing gown tighter around her body.

‘No, it’s all right. Are you OK?’

‘Yes, it’s just ... well, I just wanted to apologise about last night. I would have loved a girls’ night in but I had already invited Laurence for dinner and didn’t want to be rude. I didn’t realise you were home alone or I would have invited you too. How about lunch today?’ Sod the two articles, I think, I can write them tonight when Henry is in bed if I meet Lila for lunch.

‘Oh, don’t be silly, you funny thing.’ She smiles at me, a broad grin filled with perfect white teeth, at once much more her normal self, and pats my arm. ‘I just had horrendous PMT and thought we could indulge ourselves with a chocolate-filled girly night, but it’s fine. I came home and ate the chocolate myself!’ She gives a little chuckle and leans against the doorframe, her stance making it clear she’s not going to invite me in. Although she seems her normal chirpy self now, there is an air about her that’s a little off and I guess she is still a bit miffed about last night, even if she says she’s not. I give her a small smile back, before I say, ‘Well, good. I was worried I had offended you. Shall we meet for lunch? Or are you busy?’ I realise I really am worried that I have offended her – now that we seem to be getting along so well I’d hate to have upset her.

‘Gosh, no. It takes far more than that to offend me!’ She gives another tinkly laugh. ‘And I’m sure poor Laurence needed the company far more than I did. Listen, I don’t want to be rude but I must dash, I’m late as it is.’ Lila reaches to close the front door, still not responding to my invitation to lunch. I decide not to mention it again – maybe she is offended, despite protesting otherwise?

‘OK. Well, as long as we’re OK? I’ll let you get on. I need to get Henry to school.’ I move reluctantly from the doorstep and make my way down the path to where Henry is waiting impatiently, scuffing his feet backwards and forwards.

‘Oh, and Steph – how about one o’clock at the Hole in the Wall?’

I look back and grin, relieved that Lila is not cross with me after all.

‘Perfect.’

I drop Henry off and am threading my way through children and parents, out of the playground, when a hand lands on my arm and stops me.

‘You’re Steph Gordon, aren’t you? The new mum?’ A woman moves in front of me, blocking the path ahead, so that I have no option but to stop and speak to her. She is petite, with hair in a shiny, black bob and a full face of perfect make-up, despite the early hour. Straight away she makes me feel grungy and lazy, with my curls once again bundled up in a topknot and no make-up on.

‘Yes? Errr, I mean, yes, that’s me.’ I have no idea who she is, presumably the mother of one of the other children, hopefully a child that Henry has made friends with. She sticks a hand out for me to shake.

‘We haven’t been properly introduced. Jasmine Hale. Head of the PTA.’

‘Oh, right. Nice to meet you. I’m sorry, but I’m kind of on a deadline …’ I go to walk past her but she effectively blocks my way again.

‘The PTA are always on the lookout for new members, you know. I’m sure you would bring some marvellous qualities to our little group. The school needs all the support it can get.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t really think—’

‘We raise a lot of money for the school; it’s so nice for the children to have lovely equipment to play on, don’t you think? But of course, we all have to pull our weight and make sure we do our bit. You’ll be at our next meeting, a week on Wednesday, won’t you? We are in dire need of some new blood and I just know you’ll be perfect.’ She looks at me expectantly, waiting for a response.

‘Well, I’d love to, but the thing is … well, I work from home and my husband works away a lot. I’m not sure I would be able to commit—’

‘Oh, don’t be silly; everybody can spare an hour here and there. It’s not a huge commitment, and of course it benefits the children. All of the children.’

She is so bossy and confident I’ll do what she wants, completely ignoring the fact that I am desperately trying to turn her down. She’s like a dog with a bone. I try to take a bit of a firmer stance with her.

‘Jasmine, thank you for the invitation but I’m really not in a position to commit to anything right now. You know, Mark not being home and everything ...’ I trail off. She smiles at me, head on one side.

‘Oh, you poor thing. Yes, that must be terribly tough on you and … Henry, isn’t it? It must be especially hard for him, poor little boy, not having his daddy home every night. Well, I’m sure we can come up with something. It is so nice to see all the PTA children playing together, and they all become such good friends. Catch up later.’ She leans forward and kisses the air next to my cheek, sweeping off to join a gaggle of yummy mummies in the corner of the playground, all of whom have been watching our exchange with goggle-eyed interest. I watch as they close ranks around her, all except one, a slim woman with dark hair who stands a little way off to one side. She gives me a small smile and I smile uncertainly back, still unsure as to what actually just happened. Did Jasmine just insinuate that Henry doesn’t have any friends, and now that will be my fault as all the PTA children play together and my refusal to join means Henry won’t be included? Or am I just being paranoid? The gaggle of mums all turn simultaneously as I turn to leave the playground, Jasmine waving one gloved hand at me as I leave.

I am still unsure hours later when I walk into the Hole in the Wall to meet Lila. This is only Henry’s first year at school, so I am feeling my way a little bit when it comes to playground etiquette, especially when it comes to things like joining the PTA. Maybe I should have just said yes, if that’s what all the other mums do. Anxiety about being seen to fit in playing on my mind, I take a deep breath as I walk into the pub, casting my eyes about quickly to see if Lila has already arrived. She is sitting at the best table in the pub, a tiny booth in the far corner, near the roaring open fire, her coat hanging on the back of her chair and a glass of red wine in front of her. She smiles as she sees me and gets to her feet.

‘You look frozen, you poor darling. Here, take my seat, it’s closer to the fire.’ She gets up and kisses me on the cheek, then shuffles round to the other side of the table and I gratefully take her seat. It’s only a short walk to the pub, but outside the weather is still below freezing, an icy wind cutting through to my bones.

‘It’s much warmer in here – I’m so glad we could get together. And I’m sorry about yesterday evening.’ She waves my apology away as I pick up the menu and quickly glance over it before opting for my usual jacket potato – it’s all I can keep down at the moment. While we wait for our food to come, I tell Lila about my morning, and how Jasmine Hale had accosted me in the playground.

‘She sounds like a perfect horror.’ Lila laughs, as I come to the end of my story. ‘Don’t worry, Steph, Henry is a delightful little boy. He’ll make friends. It just takes a while at that age. She sounds like she’s just a bit enthusiastic, that’s all.’

I bask in the glow of her reassurance, relieved we seem to be back on track and that she hasn’t taken offence at my turning her down the previous evening. I realise Lila is talking to me, and I’ve missed what she’s saying.

‘I’m sorry, what was that? I was in my own little world for a moment.’

‘I said I was just like Henry as a little girl. Quite insular, not the most popular girl in the class. I was shy and really struggled to make friends, and my family wasn’t exactly the most … well, never mind. Look at me now – totally different.’ She takes a sip of her wine. ‘I have a lovely house, a gorgeous boyfriend and I’m having a glorious lunch with a good friend. Winning at life, don’t you think?’ She grins at me and chinks her glass against mine.

‘Speaking of which, how is Joe?’ Despite the close friendship we have developed, I am still yet to meet Joe. He’s rarely there, spending even less time at home than Mark if that’s possible, and when he is there, he seems to leave the house and return at odd times, meaning I haven’t quite managed to spot him yet. I’m guessing that Mark has met him, after Lila’s reference to her and Joe talking to him in the garden, but the man remains a mystery to me.

‘Oh, he’s fine.’ Lila waves her fork around airily. ‘Busy, busy. You know. He’s working hard, as usual. I told you he’s a photographer, right? He goes away on location for shoots, kind of like Mark. That’s why he’s not around much. You’ll meet him next time he’s back, I’ll make sure of it.’ Another thing we have in common, although I didn’t realise Joe was a photographer. The conversation moves on to our respective other halves and how easy it is to seem to go for days without seeing them, they are so busy. We finish lunch and I realise that, for the first time in a long time, I have enjoyed myself. I don’t feel sick; I’ve laughed until my stomach hurt at Lila and her witticisms; and it’s been lovely not to feel so anxious about everything, just for a brief time. It’s like how things used to be between me and Tessa, when she still lived close by, and I realise how much I’ve missed having a close girlfriend. We split the bill and Lila surprises me by telling me she is going to come with me to pick Henry up from school.

‘Are you sure? You don’t have to, you know.’

‘I’m coming.’ Lila’s voice is firm as she winds a colourful scarf around her neck. ‘I want to see Henry, and this afternoon has been so lovely, why shouldn’t we string it out a bit longer?’

‘Why not, indeed?’ Smiling, I link my arm though hers, and as she pushes her hair behind her ears I notice she is wearing a pair of beautiful tiny diamond studs.

‘Beautiful earrings; I have a pair just like them,’ I say, smiling at her as a faint blush rises to her cheeks. One thing I have noticed about my new friend is that she is not very good at accepting compliments, and blushes like a fiend every time she receives one. It’s sweet, really.

‘They were my mother’s,’ she says. ‘They’re the last thing she gave me before she died. Now, come on, let’s go and get Henry.’ Lila gives one of her tinkly laughs, and we stride out of the restaurant, down the hill towards the school.

Henry is delighted to see that Lila has come with me to fetch him and shows off on his scooter, doing little bunny hops and jumping on and off the kerb while she claps her hands in delight. He takes her over to meet his teacher, who seems utterly charmed by her, just like everybody else, and I can’t help but feel a little bit of pride that this shiny, beautiful, dazzling creature has chosen me – dowdy, permanently sick, tired me – to be her friend. As we leave through the front gate, I point out Jasmine Hale to Lila, discreetly of course, but Jasmine spots me and jogs over.

‘Steph – lovely to see you.’ She air kisses my cheeks on both sides. ‘Have you had any more thoughts about what we talked about this morning?’

‘Sorry, Jasmine, I haven’t had a chance. Let me wait until Mark gets home. I might be able to help then?’ I cross my fingers inside my coat pocket that I have said the right thing.

‘Oh, of course, I forgot that your husband isn’t around. Such a shame. Well, we can maybe speak about it then, if you have time, of course.’ She smiles sweetly, before jogging lightly back to her friends, while I am left wondering whether she meant it, or if sarcasm laces her reply. Lila shrugs at me, and we walk out together, her arm tucked through mine.

At the bottom of the hill, Henry waits outside the little convenience store, chocolate smeared across his mouth.

‘Henry,’ I scold, ‘I told you not to scoot down the hill without us!’

‘It’s OK, Mrs Gordon, I kept an eye on him.’ Mrs Spencer, the lollipop lady, appears next to me, lollipop in hand. ‘He said you were just coming – got carried away, I expect.’ She gives a little chuckle before returning to her post on the opposite side of the road.

‘Henry, come here.’ I crouch down to his level, meeting him face to face. ‘That was naughty – you must never scoot away like that again.’ Tears fill his eyes, making me feel awful, so I pull him in tight for a hug. ‘Don’t cry – it’s done now, but you must never do it again. What’s that around your mouth? Chocolate? Did Mrs Spencer give it to you? You shouldn’t really take sweets from people, baby, even if you know them.’

‘It wasn’t Mrs Spencer, Mummy.’ Henry’s tears are forgotten now, and he takes his scooter back from where Lila stands, holding the handlebars in one hand. He starts to scoot slowly ahead of me, towards home. ‘It was Mr P. You know, the shop man.’ I turn back towards the window of the small convenience store, where the man who served me the other day, Mr P., stands watching us through the grubby glass.