Deceit. Kerry Barnes
his long wiry hair and nodded. ‘Yes, Kara, weeks. You have messed up three tests. Luckily, I realised and corrected your mistakes before the results went out. And I haven’t forgotten the serious cock-up with the pigbel drugs.’
She bowed her head in embarrassment. That really was a huge mistake and one she would never repeat.
‘It’s not like you. Usually, you are meticulous, and to be perfectly frank, you’re faultless, but you cannot afford to mess up. These are safety class four bugs and you are trained in this area because you are so good at your job. If this keeps happening, Kara, you will have to go back to quality control.’
‘I am really sorry. Look, I will go to Denmark and sort myself out. I’ve just been feeling unwell. It’s some dodgy virus I picked up from Papua New Guinea. When do I go?’
Roger stood up to leave. ‘Tomorrow night. The flights are booked. A car will pick you up at seven o’clock, and you will be away for two weeks or longer, if need be.’ His words were flat and not his usual endearing tone. Kara then heard him outside laughing with Sam James, the lab technician. Her heart sank. Roger usually laughed with her, but not today, and in fact not for a while now. She couldn’t really blame him. It was her own fault – she was the one being distant. However, her pride wouldn’t let her confide in him the reasons why she was not herself.
After making a cup of tea, she sat back on one of the mismatched chairs and sniffed away the tears that were ready to tumble down her face. The thought of going to Denmark for two weeks left her desolate. How could she sort things out with Justin, if she was away in another country?
But there was also something else bothering her – that weird phone call. The only other person who ever answered her mother’s phone was Lucille, the carer. But the caller’s voice, although somewhat similar, had such an unearthly tone to it.
The journey home was mind-numbing. The bus was full, with only standing room, and Kara found herself hanging on to the pole for dear life. The bug was making her weak and the constant nauseous feeling was wearing her down. The bus arrived at her stop just in time before she collapsed and that was enough to force her to take a seat on the nearest wall.
The icy air from this morning had gone, yet the sky was still dark and gloomy, and it was only six o’clock. It just about summed up her own mood. After a few deep breaths, she headed home along the cherry-tree-lined road into her close. Mr Langley was retrieving his groceries from the boot of his car and only nodded out of politeness when she said ‘hello’. Still, the Langleys were nice enough, keeping themselves to themselves, like the others in the close.
As soon as she noticed only her car was in the drive and not Justin’s, she felt a sudden emptiness because he was working late at his car dealership business. Again.
They had met at her twenty-first birthday party lavishly laid on by her mother, Joan. Justin had turned up with Lucas Lane, her mother’s friend’s son, whom she’d known for years. She remembered feeling butterflies as soon as she laid eyes on him. His mousy waves with streaks of blond tumbled neatly around his ears, framing his carefully sculptured face. He was tall with a perfectly proportioned physique. She guessed he was into sports from his muscular broad shoulders, probably a rugby player, she mused, but then his face was flawless, without the cauliflower ears, which suggested maybe he was into football instead.
That summer it was hot, and his golden tan set off his light blue eyes. When the party was in full swing, all she remembered was him and his shy glances. Lottie, her friend from her boarding school days, nudged her arm. ‘Cor, he is real hot totty.’ She chuckled. Yet Kara didn’t need to be told – it was obvious – and she wasn’t the only one eyeing him up. There was an enchanting awkwardness about him; he was confident, laughing with the lads, but when his eyes diverted to her, he seemed almost coy.
Lucas Lane was eager to show him off; it was obvious he was a popular lad among his male friends. A couple of the other boys were patting his back and clinking glasses, whilst listening to him telling a story. They seemed to be hanging on his every word. She could only assume he was pretty outgoing and possibly adventurous with wild tales of trekking through the Himalayas. Her heart did a backflip when he approached her to wish her a happy birthday, and to her surprise, he even brought along a gift: a small teddy, with twenty-one embroidered on it. That teddy still sat on her bedside table.
Kara hurried inside, hung her coat up on the coatstand, and went straight to the kitchen. She would cook him a nice meal, his favourite – chilli con carne – and hopefully he would sit at the table and talk. That’s all she wanted – for him to talk to her. A few weeks ago, when she called Justin at work and said, ‘I have chilli on the stove,’ he’d replied, ‘Something hot in the kitchen and something hot on the stove, eh? I’ll be home in a jiffy.’
His deep husky voice, to her, just oozed sex, and she could listen to him all night; it was as good as any foreplay. Her eyes swam with tears. The onions weren’t even out of the fridge when the torrent of tears flowed like Angel Falls. She’d been on the verge of crying for weeks. Justin hadn’t actually done or said anything wrong; it was the distance that had come between them and it had happened almost overnight. She thought at first it was her, but then, as the days went on, he seemed miles away, quiet and aloof.
She asked him a few times if he was okay, but he snapped back at her, telling her to stop fussing. She told herself it would blow over and their relationship – perfect in her eyes – would get back to normal. Romantic meals for two, bubble baths together, and a shared bottle of wine in front of the open fire would all return. Yet, the days were now turning into weeks, and she felt her heart being ripped away from her.
Kara sighed and continued preparing the food. Once the chilli was simmering, she went upstairs to have a quick shower and redo her make-up; perhaps she had become a little dowdy and unattractive. The main bathroom was huge with a bath that would easily accommodate two people and a walk-in shower area much like a wet room. The full-length mirror screwed to the far end was surrounded by spotlights, so even a stray hair or a tiny spot could be seen.
Kara stepped out of her clothes, and for a second, she didn’t recognise herself. Perhaps she’d let herself go. Her clothes were certainly tighter; she would have to renew her gym membership and spruce herself up. Justin was fit and his body was rippled with muscles. Another tear fell. She took a step closer and peered at her face. Her blonde hair needed a trim or a restyle; it was just long and flat. The usual shine had disappeared, and she had to admit to herself, she didn’t look in the best shape at all. Her skin was not smooth and glowing; her face appeared pale and spiteful.
Perhaps that was it; maybe he wasn’t attracted to her like before. At only twenty-six years old, she should look fresh and vibrant. Maybe it was her secret tears and all the worry that were souring her face, or the virus bringing her down. The bed sheets had been dry for over a month now, and he hadn’t so much as touched her. She swallowed the hard lump in her throat. The shower was hot, and she had to turn it down a notch, submersing herself under the champagne-setting flow. Standing for a while, she allowed the water to tickle her back and massage her throbbing head.
She must get back to how she was before: toned, fresh, and attractive. Not that she fancied herself as anything special, but Justin did. He told her she was an even prettier version of Jennifer Aniston, and he wasn’t the only one: a few people had said she was a lookalike. He always complimented her; in fact, he treated her as if she were the only woman alive. The problem was he hadn’t lately, though.
Hearing the sound of the front door shutting loudly, her heart fluttered; he was home. She almost slipped over in the shower, trying to get out. She wanted to get dressed and apply a few layers of make-up, add her expensive perfume, and slip on her new floral print dress. He had bought it for her when they went to Harrods. She had to win him back. It was absurd that she was thinking she had lost him, but it was how she was beginning to feel, and if she dared even to think for a moment he was seeing someone else, she would feel sick. That notion was unbearable.