The Angel: A shocking new thriller – read if you dare!. Katerina Diamond
63
1986
The snow had clogged the driveway and most of the village too. Since the morning, it had been relentless even though the news had only predicted a mild flurry. Martina looked outside at the road; it was thick with it, crisp and untouched; an idyllic prison. The neighbour’s Christmas tree was abandoned by the bins. The binmen had refused to take it week after week, but belligerent old Murray left it there as a point of protest. Even the rubbish looked pretty when it was covered in snow.
She wondered how long she had before the baby woke up. He would be hungry when he did and she was out of formula. Her husband was trapped at work and she couldn’t be without the formula when Jamie woke up. There would be no going to the shops; she doubted most of them were even open.
Martina threw another log on the fire; even though it wasn’t cold inside the house, she loved the feeling of security the flames gave her. The fire kept her company when she was alone, when the baby was asleep. Her husband had been stuck at work more times than she could remember; since she had had the baby she was almost certain he was having an affair. She was always aware that she was a trophy wife in the first place and she had lost her sparkle in the last year or so; pregnancy had almost destroyed her and post-partum depression was finishing the job. She just hadn’t expected it to be this hard, this lonely. She picked up the red Bakelite phone she’d got for Christmas and dialled the neighbours.
Charlie and Sophia had been their next-door-but-one neighbours for the last three years and in that time they had become close. Martina and Sophie had gone through their pregnancies together.
Charlie answered the phone.
‘Hi Charlie.’
‘Martina? Is everything all right?’ His voice was a whisper.
‘Sorry, did I disturb you?’
‘No, it’s just Soph has the flu, she’s asleep and I don’t want to wake her up.’
‘Oh, I was just wondering if you had any formula I could borrow, I’m all out and when bub wakes up I’m going to be in trouble.’
‘Yeah we have an extra tin … I’ll bring some over … hang on.’ His voice tailed off.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Just thinking I should probably bring the little ’un with me, Soph’s in no condition to deal with him.’
‘Have you eaten?’ Martina asked. ‘I’ll do you a trade – grown-up food for baby food?’
‘That sounds brilliant, are you sure?’
‘It’s just me and the baby here, you’ll be doing me a huge favour so it’s the least I can do.’
‘OK, give me half an hour to sort some soup out for Soph and feed the baby, then I’ll be over.’
‘See you then.’
Martina poured the Badedas into the water and watched as it bubbled. Why was she having a bath? She was excited at the prospect of Charlie coming over on his own, but she felt guilty for it. This was probably the first time she had thought of Charlie as a man, usually he was just Sophie’s husband, the neighbour, but the idea of seeing him without Sophie had separated him somehow: now he was just Charlie.
She put some rollers in her hair, she’d only washed it yesterday, so hopefully it would hold the style better. She was making herself pretty for a man who wasn’t her husband. It was his own fault; he had made her feel ugly, both during the pregnancy and since the baby had been born. She knew she wasn’t ugly and so maybe this flirtation would be enough to boost her confidence, encourage her to start making an effort again. She sprayed herself with Opium and opted for a green chiffon dress; the red was maybe a little too daring but the green made her brown eyes look like creamy dark chocolate. She looked at herself in the mirror and reached for the lipstick that was the right colour for her; she had read in Cosmo that you should wear a lipstick the same colour as your nipples if you wanted to attract someone – as if they would even know, but the user surveys assured her it worked.
The doorbell rang and Martina answered it, her heart beating fast. It was still glowing outside even though the sun had gone down, the snow reflecting the street lamps. Satisfaction crept over Martina as she saw a flicker in Charlie’s eye, a recognition that she was a beautiful woman. She hadn’t seen that look for a while, least of all from her husband. He handed her the baby formula. She looked at the tin in her hand, confused for a moment, almost forgetting why she had invited