Behind the Lie: A nail-biting psychological suspense for 2018

I slip my arm around her shoulder and give her a squeeze. ‘Hey, of course I am, silly,’ I say to the beach. I don’t want to look into her searching eyes; she always could read me far too well. ‘Why wouldn’t I be? I have everything I’ve ever wanted.’

Chapter Two (#ulink_5e33bfde-4f51-5ea5-a3a5-0244441a173e)

Simon ended the call to his wife and poured a whisky. After the day he’d had, he needed one, and he needed Holly too, but she’d just told him she wasn’t coming home until the end of the week and he missed her. She’d originally said she’d be back tomorrow and now it would be three more days. Yes, the beach house was his gift to her to make sure she still felt connected to Cornwall and all that romantic stuff about the wild ocean she talked about. But she needed to realise that London was her home now. He’d make her realise it. He had to. The babies were due in five weeks and if she postponed again he’d be worried she might go into labour out in the sticks instead of at his clinic where she’d be safe. If anything happened to her or the babies, he’d never forgive himself.

The light of the reading lamp behind him in the otherwise dark apartment made a mirror of the floor-to-ceiling windows. In them, a tall, dark-haired man wearing a black pinstriped suit glowered at himself and then lifted a heavy crystal tumbler to his lips. Except that it was empty. Simon strode over to the drinks cabinet and refilled the glass. The apartment always felt so empty when Holly was away. He wished he didn’t miss her so much… love her so much. Simon put the glass to his lips and took a big mouthful, his breath taken by the whisky burning a path to his stomach.

In the bedroom he threw off his clothes and ran the shower in the en suite. He’d planned to stay in tonight, but it wouldn’t hurt to go out for a bit, would it? Simon needed a distraction, a bit of fun. He thought about the determined tone that had crept into his wife’s voice on the telephone earlier when he’d said he’d like her to come home tomorrow like she’d agreed. Simon was sure that little witch Demelza had changed Holly’s mind. He knew she’d be trouble when he first laid eyes on her. All thick as thieves and hugs with Holly, yet as cold as ice with him. That was unusual. He had the opposite effect on women mostly.

Half an hour later, Simon shrugged into his jacket and, with some trepidation, examined his appearance in the dressing-table mirror. These long days and late nights were taking their toll. He leaned closer and ruffled the hair around his temples. No, he wasn’t mistaken when he’d looked at himself in the window earlier; there were a few grey hairs amongst the dark. And yes, the fine lines around his eyes were becoming more pronounced. Fuck, he was only thirty-four. Perhaps he should stay in after all, have a warm drink, go to bed… the gaming tables hadn’t been kind to him lately either. Then he thought about the empty flat and the bed that was too big.

Grey hairs or no, the cocktail waitress couldn’t take her eyes off him. She’d welcomed him into the casino bar as if they were old friends and called him by his name. Yes, he was a regular, but still a nice touch given that he couldn’t recall seeing her before. He watched her now as she mixed his drink: dark sparkly eyes, generous mouth, curvy figure poured into a slinky red dress, and bouncy chocolate curls tumbling over her shoulders. The complete opposite of Holly, admittedly, but then he didn’t really have a type. A gorgeous woman was a gorgeous woman. He liked them and they liked him.

Simon had been very good since he’d been married where the ladies were concerned, however. Not so much with the gambling… but that was another story. It was blatantly obvious that many of the nurses and some of female doctors at the practice were his for the taking, should he ask. He hadn’t asked though. Holly was enough for him; she was everything he’d ever wanted. Why she was, he didn’t know. Apart from her stunning looks, she was kind of average in other areas: intelligence, ambition, creativity… Simon had always thought that any wife of his would be outstanding in everything she did. But he’d seen her on that catwalk three years ago and he’d just known she was the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

‘Penny for them, Mr West?’ Chocolate Curls set the glass down and leaned her elbows on the bar to give him a good view of her cleavage. ‘My name’s Lauren by the way.’

Simon took a drink and looked at her cheeky smile. ‘I’m thinking about my wife, Lauren, as it goes.’

Lauren’s eyes lost a bit of sparkle, but she said in a bright voice, ‘Oh, that’s nice. She’s a very lucky woman to be married to you.’

‘Why do you say that?’

‘Well, good-looking, successful, polite, charming. Did I say good-looking?’

Her throaty giggle and a wink made Simon laugh too. ‘Thanks. My wife doesn’t agree though. Seems she prefers the company of her old school friend and the wiles of Cornwall to her husband and Thameside apartment.’

‘Really? No accounting for taste is there?’ Lauren smiled again and twirled a strand of hair round her finger.

Simon smiled back and let his gaze slowly travel from her eyes to her cleavage, deliberately lingering there before flicking his eyes back to hers again. She looked back at him without a trace of embarrassment, and though she didn’t say anything, her message was loud and clear. Simon took another drink and watched her over the rim of his glass as she mixed a drink for another customer at the other side of the bar. She really had the most amazing arse. Would it hurt if he slipped just this once? Because she was heavily pregnant, Holly hadn’t felt like sex much lately; understandable, but very tedious…

‘Simon! Not joining us tonight, matey?’

He felt the heavy hand of Giles, an old school acquaintance, on his shoulder and the alcohol fumes from his breath nearly singed his eyebrows. ‘Evening, Giles. I’m not sure that I am… might give it a miss,’ he said into his glass while still eyeing Lauren.

‘Nonsense! You have to let me win back what I lost a few weeks back, eh? ‘Slonley right.’

Simon looked at Giles’s red, gin-soaked face and listened to his slurred gabble for a few moments. He could do with a win. The bank was on his back ever so politely and he’d had a card refused at The Ritz the other day. Very embarrassing, as he’d been with the senior partner of the practice at the time. Giles had more money than sense and at the moment looked to be pissed as a fart. Easy money. Perhaps Lauren might still be on shift later… Then he thought better of it. He was being ridiculous, self-indulgent. Holly was everything to him; she was carrying his children and soon they would be a happy little family. Something he’d never really been a part of. Next to his wife, the Laurens of the world were ten a penny. Simon glanced over at her and she gave him a slow, sexy smile. He smiled back, but that was all she was getting from him. Simon followed Giles to the poker table.

A few hours later, he’d stopped smiling.

Chapter Three (#ulink_85fa3d4f-a756-51db-9801-b4f825ada370)

Paddling in the Atlantic in late March is not something I would go in for normally, but Demi’s enthusiasm won’t let me sit on the dunes huddled in my duffle coat. A duffle coat and a blanket, to be exact, because my coat will no longer fasten over my bump. So here I am, ankle deep in the surf and actually loving it. The biting cold has subsided and it feels almost warm.

‘So refreshing, isn’t it?’ Demi asks, rolling up the hem of her jeans, which are already damp.

‘Actually, yes it is. Makes you feel alive and connected to nature,’ I say, looking at a fishing boat, a red splash on the horizon.

‘It does; told you it would do you good. Wash all that city pollution out of your skin.’

Talk of the city brings an image of my husband’s disgruntled face to mind, soft grey eyes steely with contempt. He wasn’t best pleased the other night when I told him I wanted to stay until tomorrow. I don’t normally go against his wishes, but I’m just not ready to go back yet. I think it might be that I am at the nesting stage, and nests are built at home. I never think of London as my home, but I’d never tell Simon that of course. Also, I wanted to spend another day with my bestie. It’s been far too long… and I am happier being here with her than I have been in a long time, if I’m honest with myself. I don’t usually allow that – honesty. It’s no good for me.

‘You okay?’ Demi asks and splashes a few droplets of seawater at me. I raise a quizzical eyebrow. ‘Well, you look kind of far away.’

‘I was back in London, so yes, I was.’

Demi frowns. ‘Hmm. We can’t have that, can we? Right, first one back to the beach chairs eats all the Scotch eggs and sandwiches!’ She takes off like a hare towards the dunes, sending her laughter back to taunt me.

‘Hey, that’s not fair! I have a lot to carry, you know!’

The sea air gives me an appetite and before I know it there’s just a few crumbs left at the bottom of the sandwich container. With a sigh I lean back in my beach chair, stretch out my long legs, rest my feet on a rock and sip my tea. This is the life. Contentment builds a home in my chest and seeps through the rest of me until I am truly relaxed. Any thought of a return to London is absolutely banished to the darkest recesses of my mind, and all I can see is sunshine, sea and sky. Oh, and Demi’s daft grin as she brings her face close to mine.

‘You look so much better for being out in the elements.’

I laugh. ‘You make it sound as if we’re on the top of Mount Everest or something.’

‘Well, you do have a mountain for a tummy these days.’

We laugh and I pretend to strangle her. Then we do synchronised tea sipping for a while in a comfortable silence.

‘Do you ever think about Jowan?’ Demi asks in a quiet voice and the silence turns uncomfortable as I struggle for an answer. Why the hell did she have to spoil the day with that?

I sigh. ‘Why do you ask?’

‘Just wondering… childhood sweethearts do tend to have a special place in a girl’s heart, I hear.’ She digs her toes into the sand and looks away from me up the beach.

‘Sometimes, I guess. But he smashed up that special place when he buggered off and left me for the army.’

‘That’s why you went to London, isn’t it – to heal your heart and forget him?’

‘You know it is.’ Why the hell she’s bringing this up, I have no idea.

‘Hmm.’

‘Hmm, what?’

‘So if he hadn’t gone in the army, do you reckon you’d be together now?’

Oh, for God’s sake. ‘How do I know? Yes. No.’ I lift my arms and let my hands fall to my thighs with a slap. ‘Who bloody knows!’

‘You seem to be getting a bit pissed off… a sure sign you still have feelings for him,’ Demi says, scrutinising my face.

‘That’s rubbish. I just can’t see the point in bringing all that up now. It’s ancient history.’ I bite the inside of my cheek to dislodge an image of Jowan’s smiley face, mop of blond curls and sky-blue eyes.

‘Four years ago is hardly ancient.’ Demi gives a wistful smile and puts her hand on my arm. ‘I guess he’s on my mind because he’s back. Saw him in the bank yesterday actually.’

Jowan’s back? To my surprise my stomach does the little roll of excitement it used to do when I thought of him. My heart rate steps up a pace too, but I take a breath and make my voice behave itself. ‘He was visiting his family then? Home on leave?’