Between You and Me: The bestselling psychological thriller with a twist you won’t see coming
house – surely that’s not unreasonable?
Sal scrabbles to pick up the toys from the sandpit, watching me warily. ‘I’m sorry, Charlie, I meant to get this all sorted before you got home, but I was just so tired and I thought I’d sit down for just a few minutes and … well, I fell asleep.’
Anger explodes out of me before I can stop it, like a tornado ripping along, tearing trees up by their roots. ‘For God’s sake, Sal, it’s not like it’s a difficult job, is it? To keep the bloody garden tidy? Despite what you might think, I wasn’t just off having a lovely time today; it was work, and the last thing I want to come home to is a total shit-hole. Do you understand?’ I glare at Sal, my good mood evaporated completely by the crap I have come home to. When will Sal ever learn? Marriage is about equality – both sides taking equal amounts of responsibility – not about one person doing all the work and making all the effort while the other feeds off them.
‘Yes, Charlie, I understand.’
‘Good.’ I stride across the garden and grip Sal’s jaw in my hands. ‘I’m going to bed now. You can stay out here and tidy all this crap up. I want it sorted before you come up. I don’t work hard all day long, even on the bloody weekend, just so you can leave shit everywhere. Right?’ I release Sal, and as I sweep past the patio table on my way up to bed my hand knocks the wine bottle off-centre, causing it to crash onto the stones below, taking the wine glasses with it. I don’t glance back as I hear the glass shatter across the paving slabs. It serves Sal right for ruining yet another evening.
SAL
So, your good mood didn’t last for very long. It’s terrifying to see the way you can switch from calm and loving to enraged and furious within a split second. I know as soon as I open my eyes to see you standing over me that I’m going to regret sitting down for five minutes’ peace, remembering that I haven’t tidied the garden before stopping for a moment. When we returned from the beach Maggie was lively after her nap in the car and headed straight outside to play while I prepared us some dinner. She spent the rest of the afternoon in the garden, sitting in the sandpit playing dolls. Exhaustion had kicked in again by the time we had eaten and I ended up putting her to bed early, thinking I still had a good while to tidy up before you returned home. The next thing I knew I was opening my eyes to you looming over me, and my first thoughts were not of the garden, but a fierce hope that you hadn’t realised Maggie and I had been to the beach with Laura for the day. Luckily, it seems the state of garden has pushed any further thoughts of what my day has entailed from your mind, and you shout and carry on at me, while I quietly start to tidy up. I know the best thing I can do when you’re in this kind of mood is to just keep quiet and let you get on with it – any form of argument or retaliation will just make things worse, and I really don’t want you to wake Maggie up. When you announce you’re going up to bed I feel relieved that I won’t have to risk a further inquisition. I glance towards Laura’s house, checking for any signs that she might have overheard something. With no sign of life from next door I carry on picking up the toys from where they lie, and watch nervously as you stalk past the patio table, your hand brushing across it, causing both glasses and wine bottle to cascade onto the patio. The shattering of the glass makes me jump but I carry on picking up toys, studiously avoiding your gaze. I breathe a sigh of relief when you head towards the house, without any further comment.
The next morning, there is a thick air of tension surrounding you and I make sure I keep out of your way as much as possible. The last thing I want is for Maggie to be around if you flip out – generally you are fairly good about making sure she doesn’t witness too much; however, after last night I am worried it won’t take a lot to push you over the edge.
‘I’ll take Mags up to the supermarket, shall I?’ I lean over your shoulder as you sit at the patio table. ‘I was going to get a roasted chicken for lunch to have with some salad. We can walk up there together and get out of your hair for a bit. I’ll stop off on the way and take her for a push on the swings; you can relax and read the papers.’ I’ve made sure the patio is swept clean and the garden is tidy, so it seems you’re happy to sit outside and read the Sunday papers this morning. You grunt in reply, and as you make no move to speak to me properly, or move from your chair, I assume you’re OK with it.
Shopping takes longer than expected, as Maggie and I bump into our neighbour who lives at the top of the street. Mrs Wilson is pleased to see us, as always. An elderly lady, she has lived alone since her husband died, her children all disbanding to various corners of the globe and not returning home to see her as often as she would like. As a result, she dotes on Maggie and always has a little something for her when she sees her. ‘Sal! And darling little Maggie. What are you up to?’ Mrs Wilson places her shopping bags on the ground and lets Maggie give her a huge squeeze.
‘Hi, Mrs Wilson – just a bit of shopping. Charlie’s at home so we’re cooking up a storm, aren’t we, Mags? Are you going our way?’ I glance towards our street and Mrs Wilson nods.
‘Here, let me take these.’ I rearrange my own shopping bags, enabling me to pick up Mrs Wilson’s shopping as well.
‘Thank you, Sal – you’re too kind. I’m not as strong as I used to be. And Charlie’s at home, you say? Well, that’s just lovely – that one works too hard for you all, you know. You’re lucky to have someone that looks out for you so well.’ Mrs Wilson gives a little laugh, and we start to head back towards home. We make small talk as we walk, Mrs Wilson telling me all about how her eldest son has relocated to Australia, taking the grandchildren with him. There is an air of sadness about her as she tells me about their farewell party, and I feel slightly sorry for her. You don’t have the time of day for her, but I worry that she gets lonely, sitting indoors by herself, waiting for the phone to ring. I try my hardest to pop in on her when I can, just to check she’s all right. Reaching her doorstep, I carry her shopping through for her and gratefully accept a quick cup of tea.
‘Thank you, Sal.’ Mrs Wilson hands me a steaming cup of strong, brown tea. ‘You’re a gem – and Maggie is a little dote. You’re lucky; you have the perfect family. Make the most of it – they grow up too quickly.’ I give her a small smile and look down at my cup. Perfect? I’m not too sure about that.
An hour later, as Maggie and I come strolling down our street, swinging our hands together and occasionally jumping over the cracks in the pavement, I realise you are outside in our front garden, talking to Laura. Usually I wouldn’t worry too much, but following on from yesterday’s illicit trip to the beach, which I was too ashamed to tell Laura should be kept secret, my heart starts to beat a little faster, and I feel hot and clammy.
‘Everything OK?’ I try a wobbly smile in your direction.
‘Of course, you silly thing, why wouldn’t it be?’ You squeeze my shoulder affectionately. ‘Laura was just telling me about your little trip yesterday. I’m not surprised you didn’t mention it, after being so tired yesterday evening.’
‘Oh, yes. We didn’t go out for too long, just to get the kids some fresh air, that’s all. I meant to tell you but … well, I was asleep when you came in.’
‘You’re lucky, Laura. Sal’s been extremely busy this week, haven’t you, Sal? Indoors all week, making the most of being home with Maggie, I should think, before school starts. I’m surprised Sal could find the time to spend a whole day out!’ You put your arm around me proprietarily, clutching me ever so slightly too tightly.
Laura flicks her eyes towards me, almost an apology, as she obviously didn’t realise I hadn’t told you we’d been out.
‘Well, Charlie, I realise that. I haven’t seen Sal or Maggie all week – unusual since you live next door, eh? I almost thought you guys were avoiding me!’ Laura gives a little laugh, and Charlie joins in. Despite the supposed hilarity, you could cut the air with a knife.
‘Of course not, Laura. You’re our neighbour, aren’t you? You must come over for dinner soon. I know this lovely chap at work – he’d be