Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
NOW
Reese
‘You seem distracted,’ says Nick as we get ready for bed. ‘Bad day?’
I’m going through my skin routine, sitting in front of my dressing table and staring into the mirror hanging on the wall when he asks and I stop what I’m doing, rosehip oil covering my hands. ‘I’m fine.’
‘Okay,’ he says and he gets into bed and picks up his tablet.
He doesn’t push me, doesn’t tell me that he can see something is wrong.
If anything, he looks relieved that we don’t have to have a conversation.
I study him, wondering if I actually have anything to worry about or if Camilla is just messing with me and trying to come between me and Victoria.
It makes sense that breaking up our friendship would be her agenda.
Am I just na?ve? I watch Nick scroll through his tablet, probably looking for any new articles from the law journal he likes to read.
How could this man be cheating on me? It doesn’t seem possible.
There are thousands of women going through a divorce right now who once thought the exact same thing.
As I finish smoothing the oil over my face, I study my skin, searching for new wrinkles. He has a new young graduate lawyer at his firm who he admires. He’s meeting my best friend in the street and lying about it. Is he tired of me? Maybe you’re tired of you.
In bed, I open my Kindle and start reading, even as I listen for a message on my phone from Victoria.
Why hasn’t she replied? I contemplate messaging again but then don’t.
She’s probably angry that I didn’t say anything about her quitting her job, something I would usually have told Nick, but as I haven’t spoken to Victoria yet, I have no idea what happened.
And I don’t want to talk about Victoria with Nick right now.
If she doesn’t want to speak to me there must be a reason.
Maybe Camilla sent her the same picture and she knows she’s been caught?
I want to ask Nick about the photo but can’t think of how to bring it up. Picking up my phone, I wonder if I should just show it to him.
‘Are we busy on Saturday night?’ he asks, startling me.
‘Yes, we have dinner with Victoria and Ed,’ I reply because we do. Saturday is only days away. Should I cancel? Maybe I’ll just cancel on the night and tell Nick that Victoria cancelled.
I sigh as I stare down at my Kindle. I hate lying to the people I’m close to but if they’re lying to me, then what choice do I have?
This can be resolved easily enough if I just directly ask Nick and show him the photo, but something is stopping me from doing that. I don’t want the answer. I’m afraid of the answer. So like the coward that I am, I ask a different question.
‘When did you last see Victoria?’ I ask, studying his face, searching for some kind of a reaction.
He doesn’t take his eyes off his tablet, just shrugs his shoulders.
‘Last time we went out, I suppose,’ he says.
And then he turns on his side, away from me, and flicks off his bedside lamp.
‘I’m beat and I have to be up early tomorrow to meet Jake for squash,’ he says.
I know that’s the signal for me to also turn off my bedside lamp and read my Kindle in the dark which I always do because it gives off enough light. But I’m not tired yet, not that it matters how I feel. Resentment rises inside me and I open my phone, looking at the picture again.
‘Reese, please,’ says Nick.
With a sigh, I switch off my lamp and shuffle down until I’m lying on my pillow. Why did he just lie to me? Is it because he’s cheating or because the meeting was insignificant? Did he just forget or is he actively lying?
And why do I listen to him when he tells me to do something? It’s your own fault. You teach people how to treat you.
‘Mummy, Mummy,’ I hear. Max is prone to bad dreams and tonight I welcome his need of me. I get out of bed, where Nick doesn’t move, and go to my son’s room.
‘There was someone here, outside my room,’ he cries when he sees me and I grab him in a hug, stroking his hair and soothing him.
‘No one’s here, sweetheart,’ I murmur over and over again.
‘It was a monster with sharp teeth,’ he insists. ‘It was knocking at my window. It wanted to be let in.’
‘It was a nightmare but it’s over now. See?
’ I stand up and push open his curtains where, for some reason, his window is slightly open.
I’m sure I closed it before I went to sleep.
Our home is only one storey because it’s on a large parcel of land and we designed it like a square, surrounding the glass-fenced swimming pool in the middle.
But we’re in a very safe neighbourhood so I rarely remember to lock the windows, leaving the catches open most of the time.
I push the window down and secure it with the catch and then I lean against the window and cup my hands around my face, attempting to see into the garden that surrounds the house, but all is dark.
‘Do you see him, Mum?’ asks Max.
‘No, there’s nothing there, love.’
‘Stay with me, Mum,’ he insists and for once I have no desire to go back to my bed.
I snuggle down next to my son. Even though Nick thinks it’s a bad idea for us to sleep with the children, I have always enjoyed it.
They’re only little for such a short time and Kayla doesn’t call for me at night unless she’s feeling sick. It goes by in the blink of an eye.
I’ve left my phone in my bedroom so I won’t hear if Victoria messages me but I don’t care anymore.
I have no desire to think about this tonight.
I need to sleep and tomorrow I will contact Victoria and ask her outright if she is sleeping with my husband.
I picture her laughing at me as I ask the question.
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she’ll say. ‘You’re my best friend.
I would never do something like that to my best friend.
’ Except she did do something like that.
The stakes were a lot less but she did it.
Max slips easily back into sleep, one hand on my arm and his thumb going into his mouth.
I shift on the bed until I’m comfortable, trying to clear my head of any thoughts. As I’m sinking into sleep, I hear a distinctive sound, a tapping sound, like someone is using a fingernail on the glass.
My heart is in my throat as Max’s hand tightens around my arm in his sleep. Holding my breath, I listen for the sound to come again but there’s only silence.
I should get up and check but Max is holding on tight and I don’t want to disturb him. I could call Nick but that would wake everyone up.
Instead of doing anything, I lie still, in silence, waiting for the sound to come again.
‘Morning, Mum. Morning.’
‘Morning, Maxy,’ I mumble. ‘Did you sleep well?’
‘Yep,’ he says, standing up on the bed and leaping over me onto the floor.
I drifted off here at some point. ‘The monster stayed away because you were here.’ He leaves to go to the bathroom and I pull myself up, wondering about the sound I heard.
As I stand, I dismiss it as part of my imagination, a kind of waking dream and nothing to be scared of.
I have bigger things to deal with today and I’m going to make sure that I don’t have another night filled with questions.
Today I will get an answer from my best friend or my husband or both. And I will make sure that Camilla can’t contact me again. The woman is clearly nuts and I don’t have to deal with her craziness.
The woodsy smell of Nick’s deodorant lingers in the bedroom. He would have left very early this morning which means he knows that I spent the night in Max’s room. I’m sure he’ll text me later and make his displeasure known.
I grab my phone from my bedside table, taking a quick look at my emails which have come in overnight, in case Zane needs me to deal with something today.
I open Instagram next, something I do every morning, again looking for any contact from prospective clients, and my heart drops when I see another message from Camilla. I should have blocked her but also… that picture of my husband and my best friend needs to be explained.
I spy with my little eye, something beginning with M.
Irritated at the stupidity of the message, I type just one word.
WHAT?
All kids are afraid of monsters Reese, you know that. Bet Max has no idea that his mum is actually a monster. Imagine how terrified he would be.
The tapping on the window last night, Max calling for me.
She was here. She was watching me yesterday and she was here last night.
My house, my garden, near my children. I clutch my phone tightly, feeling my jaw clench as fury races through me and only one phrase circles in my head.
I don’t stop myself from sending it, instead stabbing at my phone, and hitting send so hard my finger hurts.
I WILL KILL YOU.
A threat. How nice. How polite. How very unlike you.