Between You and Me: The bestselling psychological thriller with a twist you won’t see coming. Lisa Hall
making me feel I can’t do things like this with Maggie all the time, for making me fear the outcome of a trip somewhere nice, all because of your uncontrollable jealousy and fear that I will leave given half the chance.
The day passes in a heat-filled haze, the children spending the morning splashing through the waves and building elaborate sandcastles, only to knock them flat two minutes later. Laura and I take it in turns to keep an eye on them, especially near the water, and when it’s my turn to watch them, Laura drags her Kindle out of her bag and turns onto her stomach to tan her back. I walk down to the water’s edge where the kids are overturning stones to see if they can find any life underneath.
‘Kids, if you want to find living things I’ll take you over to the rock pools. Come on. Grab your buckets and spades and we’ll go exploring.’ Maggie and Lucy clap their hands and make a grab for their buckets, while poor old Fred just looks bemused.
‘Come on, Freddie.’ I take Fred by the hand and follow the girls, who are racing ahead to the rock pools. We find a good-sized pool, water slightly warmed by the heat of the day, and start flipping over slimy, seaweed-covered rocks in search of any form of sea creature we can find – the girls shrieking in delight at a tiny jellyfish, while Fred finds a dead crab fascinating. We fill plastic buckets with seawater and the girls add their treasures to them, pieces of coral, shells and crab legs all making their way into our haul. An hour later, we return to where Laura has obviously given up on her book and fallen asleep. I ever so gently tip one of the buckets over her back, splashing her with cold sea water, and she jumps up shrieking.
‘Bloody hell, Sal, you git! I’m soaked! And I was having a very enjoyable dream in which Johnny Depp was telling me how much he loves a red-head.’ She shakes herself off and sits back down on the beach towel next to Lucy and Maggie. ‘What have you got there?’
Maggie grins up at her. ‘We’ve got a hermit crab, and a little tiny fish, see?’
‘Sal helped us find them,’ Lucy pipes up, sloshing seawater from the bucket in her haste to show her mother.
‘Well, aren’t you lucky?’ Laura smiles down at them both. ‘You’re both incredibly lucky to have Sal.’ Her eyes flick to my bare legs, exposed to the sun after even I couldn’t justify wearing jeans to the beach, to the marks that are still visible from the hot lasagne a week ago and, grateful that she doesn’t question me, I say nothing.
We spend the afternoon at the pier, watching the fishermen casting their lines, and when Fred is so exhausted he can’t walk any more but refuses to be pushed in the buggy we head back to the car. By the time we pull up on our driveway all three children are fast asleep in the back. I turn to Laura, who has been uncharacteristically quiet on the drive home.
‘Thanks for today, Laur. I didn’t realise quite how badly I needed it.’ I turn the car off and unclip my seatbelt.
‘Sal? Is there anything you want to talk to me about?’ Laura gazes at me steadily, forcing me to look away and fiddle with my shirt buttons.
‘What? No. Of course not. What do you mean?’ I swallow nervously. There really is nothing at this moment in time that I want to talk to Laura, or anyone, about. I’ve tried that before and it’s safe to say that it wasn’t a success.
‘Your legs, Sal. What happened to your legs? It looks like they’re burnt. And you were wearing jeans last week, even though it was really hot, like you wanted to cover them up, or something. Then you just stayed home all week. Like you weren’t allowed to leave the house. Please, Sal; if there’s something wrong, please tell me. I’m your friend; I want to help you.’ She reaches out a hand towards me, but seems to change her mind at the last minute, dropping it back into her lap.
‘My legs are fine, Laura. Fine. I dropped a hot dish, that’s all, and it splashed up. I wore jeans because that’s what I wanted to wear and I stayed home because I didn’t want to go out. There’s nothing sinister going on, and I don’t need you making out like there is, OK? I went out with you today, didn’t I?’ I feel myself getting angry and defensive, even though I know Laura is only trying to help, but I can’t, I can’t, talk to her about it. It would only make things worse.
‘OK.’ Laura opens the car door and swings her legs out, before turning back to me, her gaze unwavering. ‘But remember, Sal, I’m only next door, I’m always only next door, whenever you need me.’ She pulls a sleeping Fred out from his car seat and I sit for a moment, unsure of what to say, before deciding to say nothing. Reaching in to unclip Lucy from her car seat, I breathe in the scent of Laura’s perfume, a stain on the air left by her presence in the car, and wish, beyond everything, that I could tell her.
CHARLIE
The golf day goes well, and Mr Pavlenco and his team are happy when we all head back towards the clubhouse at the end of the day. I feel like the weight on my shoulders has lifted briefly, now that I know Pavlenco is happier. Mr Pavlenco and his team head through to the bar and I take the opportunity to call Sal. The phone is answered immediately, so I relax and find myself able to enjoy a meal and a few drinks with the Otex team before catching a cab home. The day has been a small respite in the relentless torrent of paperwork and phone calls this demanding case has generated, and although I am feeling a little better about the potential outcome of the deal, I am still aware that there is a lot of work ahead of me if I’m going to pull this off successfully.
As I walk in the door, I catch sight of Sal snoozing on the sofa – there is no sign of Maggie, and as it’s past 8pm I guess Sal has already put her to bed.
‘Sal, wake up.’ I lean over and hiss quietly, shaking Sal by the shoulder.
‘Huh? Oh, Charlie, you’re home.’ Sal smiles up at me groggily and struggles into a sitting position, dark curls skewed at crazy angles. ‘How did it go?’
‘Excellent. The team at Otex are happy that we’re doing what we can to make sure the merger goes ahead as smoothly as possible, so fingers crossed all good. What did you do today? You seem exhausted.’ A tiny niggle of irritation burrows away at me, at the idea of Sal snoozing away on the sofa while I’m out slogging my guts out, schmoozing clients and bowing to their every whim.
‘Oh, nothing much. It must be the heat, takes it out of me.’ Sal yawns, stretching long fingers out in an arch. It is still ridiculously hot and muggy outside. ‘We just stayed at home, had a spot of lunch, nothing exciting.’
‘Sounds like you had a good day. And Maggie? She’s in bed?’
‘Yep, she was exhausted. I think the heat is a little too much for her, too, poor thing. I just hope the weather breaks before she starts school. It’ll be awful for the little ones to have to go to school in this heat.’
‘I’m sure it will – this is England not Africa! We need to enjoy it while it lasts. Come on. Let’s sit out on the patio and open a cold bottle of wine, pretend we’re enjoying this heatwave.’ I pull Sal up from the couch and we go through to the kitchen to hunt out wine glasses. I grab the cold bottle of wine from the fridge and a tub of green olives and we head out onto the patio, the early evening air still warm and fragrant with the jasmine that curls upwards from the pots next to the back door.
Maggie’s toys still litter the garden, where she was obviously playing with them today. Dollies with all their clothes piled up in a heap next to them lie alongside a bucket and spade, a football and a skipping rope. A pair of Maggie’s pink sandals lie next to the sandpit, while a stuffed toy lies face down in the sand, and Maggie’s cardigan hangs over the swing frame. I feel what was left of my good mood start to slip – how difficult is it for Sal to make sure the garden is tidy at the end of the day? I’ve spent all week working my arse off at the office, early starts and working all the hours God sends, while Sal does, literally, nothing. It’s not like there’s a huge amount to do, just put the toys back in the toy box, and make sure that shoes and cardigans are put away. Sal catches sight of the look on my face and scurries over to the sandpit and starts to