Love Me, Love Me Not: An addictive psychological suspense with a twist you won’t see coming

But I forbade myself from ever asking, because all it took was one slither of doubt, a single step back towards being her support system, and my escape would have been for nothing.

‘There’s still time, surely?’

‘If only it were that simple.’

‘I’m assuming you’ve had the tests?’

He took a long sip of his drink, refilled his glass before the waiter could do so for him. ‘I don’t think there’s a single test I haven’t been subjected to.’ He said this without meeting my eye and I could only imagine the horror he must have felt at being interrogated about his personal habits. About having to fill a cup with his seed and hand it over to a nurse for examination.

‘And?’

‘They can’t find anything wrong with either of us.’

‘What about IVF?’

‘Two rounds already. Costs an absolute fortune, but Elle says it’s not about the money.’

Easy to say when there was no limit to how much she would be willing to spend in order to get the picture-perfect family. It would have been killing her, the inability to do what came so naturally to others. To watch as, all around her, people were delighting the world with yet another screaming child. It should have given me nothing but pleasure to learn she was being denied something she craved with every part of her soul.

So why couldn’t I help but feel sorry for her? Wonder why didn’t she confide in me?

‘What about alternative therapies? Chinese medicine has been used for centuries to treat all sorts of issues. I’m sure I could find out about local clinics if you had time during your stay?’ I wanted to help. I wanted to be the one to provide the solution to their little problem. I wanted to be the one who could do more.

But I could tell by the look on his face that she had already tried it all. Anything and everything to prove that she too could be a mother.

‘Like I said. She can’t get pregnant and Elle isn’t used to things not working out as she expects.’

Surely we all have our limits? Surely we all reach a point when we wake up and realise we’re no longer the person we aspired to be when we were young enough to still have dreams?

‘You do know children are a dealbreaker for her?’ I said it even though he already knew, already understood that without the requisite heir to the family fortune, Elle would never be content.

He changed the subject then. Something about an expedition to Guatemala where a new species of bat had been discovered in the Lanquin caves. His face relaxed back into itself as he spoke, the excitement fizzing away, the promise of carrying out his own wishes for once instead of following the routine of baby-making. It was a trip Elle would never want to join and I only half heard him when he invited me to go instead.

‘I can.’ I said the words before they even registered in my mind. Before I even decided what it was I was offering.

‘You’ll come with me?’

I would run to the ends of time for him, but unfortunately that wasn’t the idea that chose to announce itself when I should have been thinking about nights camped out under the Milky Way with nothing but a campfire and whisky to keep us warm. How treacherous and shrewd my mind could be, almost as if it chose to punish me for something I wasn’t aware of having done.

‘I can get pregnant.’ It was something I could do that she could not. Something that set me apart, that made me indisputably better than her.

‘I really don’t see what this has to do…’

‘I can get pregnant.’ I became manic, overly excited, pawing at him like a woman possessed. ‘For you. For both of you.’

‘Well, that’s awfully kind, but I couldn’t possibly…’

Except he could. The hesitation before he spoke was enough for me to see the workings of his magnificent brain. The triumphant return, making him once more the hero in her eyes. The sacrificial lamb resuming her duties and giving the queen what her heart most desired.

‘Would you at least consider it? I mean, if she really does want a baby, then surely this wouldn’t be such a ridiculous idea?’

A small shake of his head as he scratched the tip of his nose. ‘Why would you do that, for us?’

‘Because it doesn’t make sense without you.’

I held my breath. Waited for him to reply. For him to understand what it was I was trying to tell him. Trying to apologise for my mistake all that time ago. Trying to see if this might be my opportunity to turn everything around, steer the path my way.

I don’t know if in that moment I ever truly meant to keep my promise, to see my ridiculous plan all the way to its rather bitter end. But then he did something so subtle, yet so unspeakably clever, that it took me forever to understand the weight of one sentence.

‘She feels the same. She misses you more than you could possibly know.’

She doesn’t miss you. She betrayed you.

There it was. My own private Lucifer, risen from the depths. Giving me the push I needed to throw myself in, all of me. My entire existence pulled back to her.

‘Then I should come home. Talk to her. Tell her I want to help.’

‘What about your life here?’

‘It was never going to be forever. I always knew on some level where it is I really belong.’ The idea that had started out as nothing more than a throwaway comment, a desperate bid for attention, began to germinate and bloom. Just like the life that would feed from me, that would be nurtured by my womb, so too would the plan to take back even more than I’d ever thought possible.

Because if Elle was no longer around, who would take care of my beloved? Who would take care of the baby?

CHAPTER EIGHT (#ulink_2bebcedc-986b-57d4-933b-4035bf36ec08)

Mistletoe: Celtic Druids believed mistletoe had the power to bestow life and fertility

England, six months ago

‘Here you go.’ Patrick slid my glass across the battered wooden table, a snail-like trail of foam left between us. The silver cufflinks at his wrists winked their taunt at me, the tick of his oversized watch laughing its reminder that he wore her gifts like a badge that screamed at me to stay away, not to touch. His fingers held the scent of expensive aftershave, nails displaying clipped cuticles that used to be stained with ink but now moved over a keyboard instead of paper.

I rubbed my thumb from the bottom of the glass to the top, catching the spillage before licking my skin clean.

‘Don’t tell Elle,’ I said as I took a sip, watching him as he did the same.

‘Need to know basis.’ He attempted a smile but it didn’t quite work.

‘It’s only half a pint, but she would worry.’

‘To the point of paranoia.’

I nodded my agreement.

‘Besides,’ he said in between gulps. Most of his drink was already gone. ‘My great aunt drank a pint of Guinness a day and she lived…’

‘…To be ninety-four,’ I finished for him. I knew all his stories. Replayed them over and over in my mind just to try and remember the exact intonation of his voice.

‘You could argue it’s good for the baby.’