Keep Your Friends Close: A gripping psychological thriller full of shocking twists you won’t see coming

Silence.

‘So have you anything more to say, or do we understand one another?’

He stood up, towering over her.

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Louie (#ulink_78c3727e-66c4-57c4-9556-fbd61d32be0d)

Louie was waiting for her moment to come again, watching their table discreetly in between preparing drinks orders at the bar. Karin looked sensational in that dress. How easily it had slipped off. Louie observed her pushing food around her plate. Occasionally a miniscule forkful would end up in her mouth as she smiled at the old fart she had just agreed to marry.

As soon as the waitress began clearing away their plates, Louie was ready to make her move. She held off for a few more moments until they were handed the dessert menus. On her approach, armed with a carafe of water, the old fart took hold of Karin’s hand across the table.

‘I’m so sorry,’ said Louie, placing the carafe between them with a thud, forcing them apart. ‘I don’t mean to interrupt, but I think I recognize you now. You used to work here, right? Left about a year or so ago, maybe. Was it?’

‘Yes,’ Karin replied, snapping the menu shut, her face turning pale. ‘That’s right.’

Louie registered the anxious smile that Karin gave to the old fart, and then she continued. ‘Is it erm, Karin? Karin—?’ She genuinely did wonder what Karin would be calling herself these days, doubting very much that she would have gone back to using Svendsen because of the association with her mother.

‘It’s Rhodes,’ she replied. There was a strain in her voice.

‘Of course,’ said Louie.

At least that was something then. So this man, who had blatantly just proposed to her girlfriend, probably didn’t know who Karin’s mother was. But did he know the significance of her twenty-second birthday?

Karin began twisting her newly acquired ring round her finger. ‘Maybe I do remember you. Vaguely,’ she said. ‘Oh erm. This is Aaron. My fiancé.’ She might as well have fired the words out of a gun. Likewise when she said, ‘Aaron, this is – I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name.’

‘Louie. Some people call me Lou.’

Aaron offered his hand. Louie shook it, even though it disgusted her.

Then, pointing an accusing finger at Karin, as if the thought had only just occurred to her, Louie said: ‘You once caught me sketching seahorses when I was meant to be working, didn’t you? And promised you wouldn’t tell.’

‘What?’ said Karin, laughing to cover up her discomfort. ‘Oh. Yes, I do remember that.’

Louie hoped the memory was digging into her heart, picturing Louie with her sketchpad and pencil. Karin would be recalling how much she loved her then, how perfect they were together and how much she still loved her now. But to give Karin some time for these things to sink in, Louie turned her attention to Aaron, giving him the tourist spiel about the two Eric Gill seahorses carved into the exterior of the hotel, plus the other forty-seven that had been added to the interior. ‘Have a look in the shower grate in your room,’ she added, ‘before you put the anti-slip mat down. Even young people find it a bit slippery in there.’

‘I certainly will,’ said Aaron, not taking issue with her last comment. He leant in to Karin and kissed her hand. ‘So. Did you tell?’

Karin swallowed, her cheeks as red as her hair. ‘No. I would never do that.’ She looked up at Louie, dabbing her mouth with her napkin. All of a sudden, she fired back her chair and stood up. ‘Sorry. I really need to go to the Ladies again.’

Louie watched her go. ‘Is she okay, do you think?’

‘She’ll be fine. Her stomach’s playing up.’

‘Shouldn’t you go after her?’

‘I can hardly follow her into the Ladies, can I?’ Aaron took a large gulp of wine, holding it in his mouth before swallowing, fixing his gaze on Louie. ‘So, are you an artist?’

‘Of sorts, yes.’

‘Are you any good?’

‘Not for me to say really.’

‘I’m always on the lookout for artwork.’

Louie lifted up her apron and fumbled about in her back pocket. ‘Not sure where you’re based, but if it’s anywhere near Leeds, I have a show on next Thursday. Here’s a flyer.’ She managed to retrieve one and handed it over. ‘It’s a pretty small exhibition.’

‘Hm,’ said Aaron. ‘We live in Leeds.’

‘Really?’

Louie’s professionalism deserted her at that point. She had to sit down. Aaron poured her a glass of water, but she didn’t drink it. He thought she wanted to discuss art.

So near? Had Karin been in Leeds all this time? A short hop over the Pennines, less than two hours away by car. How could she be that cruel? Karin told her she had gone to the States.

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Karin (#ulink_024dbdd0-6541-5372-af29-31b49603fc61)

Karin stepped out of the shower and reached for the towel. She had been desperate to wash away Louie, but the cleansing process hadn’t worked. Could still feel her touch on her skin, still feel her fingers inside her. No amount of soaping and scrubbing was going to erase that. She dried herself and put on the bathrobe, not quite ready to go out there yet. Sitting on the side of the bath, she wondered if she could ever face Aaron again. She deeply regretted her actions. To some degree, was still in shock.

It had all happened so fast.

The only reason she had chosen to come to Morecambe in the first instance was because it was her dad’s birthplace. For that reason alone, it had been perfect; she had to take her own life somewhere. It was Louie who had found her on the beach, sinking deeper into her cold, muddy grave. The sea nearly claimed them both that night, spreading its watery tentacles around them, shutting off any means of escape.

Karin hadn’t wanted to die. Not really. She just didn’t think she deserved a future.

There was no doubt that Louie had brought her back to life in every possible way. She managed to get her a job at The Midland and they found a place together, a cosy bedsit off Albert Road. Gradually Karin discovered a happiness she didn’t think possible for herself, and their shared sense of recklessness was like a drug. Karin also loved the fact that Louie was an artist, embracing all the quirks and peculiarities that came with that, and she would sit for her whenever she asked.

Louie had opened her eyes, her mind, made Karin look at things and really see them. But there was a need, a dependency, which wasn’t healthy. Karin realized too late what was happening. No one was allowed into their world. The possessiveness became suffocating and isolating, and Karin was losing all sense of herself.

The way she handled the break-up was not something she was proud of. The lie that she had found a job in the States seemed as cruel then as it did now. She had simply handed in her notice at the hotel and vanished. At the time, this was the right thing to do, the only thing to do. Close the door on Louie quickly, limit the pain and break the connection. Louie would never accept it was over otherwise.

Karin shuddered, pulling the bathrobe around herself. She couldn’t hide in here all night. When she finally emerged, Aaron was lying on his front on the bed, scrolling down his phone. He threw it to one side and shuffled over to make some room, leaning on one elbow. He had been kind enough not to ask her a single difficult question over dinner and Karin was grateful for that because he must have had plenty buzzing round his head. Her behaviour had been strange from the moment they pulled into the car park.

This was meant to be a happy occasion, yet there had been no more talk of a wedding since his proposal. When she hadn’t returned to the table, Aaron had had to come up to the room to find her.

Poor Aaron. She had ruined their perfect moment.

‘Is that better?’ he asked, pulling Karin into him.

She nodded, feeling safe again in his arms. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered.

‘For what?’ Aaron laughed, kissing her neck. ‘Asking you to be my wife?’

‘Well yes. And all this, I don’t deserve it.’