Nowhere to hide, p.11
Nowhere to Hide, page 11
‘Look, can you just let me explain.’
‘There’s nothing you can say that will excuse what you just did.’
‘Callie. Please. Just listen.’
She quietened for a moment, but continued to pace in front of him, and he suspected she would go off like a rocket at any moment, so he spoke quickly.
‘Faith is kind and well-meaning and smart, but she is also stubborn. I know her well enough that she wouldn’t have taken no for an answer, and when you continued to resist, she would have become suspicious. Trust me, it is easier to agree now, then back out later.’
She stared at him, her expression wary, and he knew she was trying to decide if he was telling her the truth.
‘Only you, me and Laurel know why you’re here, and it needs to stay that way. I love Ethan and Faith and I would trust them with my life, but secrets are better kept between as few people as possible. It only takes one slip-up or confiding in the wrong person for word to spread. That can’t happen.’
‘So you’re saying you did it to protect me?’
Her chin was raised defiantly, and he couldn’t decide if she was considering his words or getting ready to call bullshit.
‘Yes.’ He knew Faith well and he needed Callie to trust him on this.
‘Okay,’ she said eventually, her tone stiff. ‘But you need to get me out of this. I can’t go out with her. I need you to promise.’
He nodded, and when he spoke his agreement, he meant it. ‘I promise.’
It was late afternoon when Nico heard back from Vince Mitchell.
He had called Anya’s uncle after failing to reach her mother. And part of him was relieved that Larissa hadn’t answered her phone. Nico wasn’t a fan and, having had to fend her off the first time they had met, she now scared him half to death. Vince, on the other hand, had an acerbic wit and a heart of gold. Two qualities that he appreciated.
When Nico had called him earlier, telling him that Anya hadn’t shown up for work, Vince was annoyed, but he hadn’t seemed too worried. He admitted to Nico that he and Anya had fought the previous afternoon – a fight, Nico would later learn once he got off the phone, that Callie had witnessed the tail end of.
It hadn’t been anything serious. Since Vince’s boyfriend, David, had appeared on the scene, Anya and he had grown close, with Anya preferring to confide her secrets in David rather than her uncle. Vince was hurt at being excluded, especially when he’d discovered Anya was seeing someone and hadn’t told him about it, and he had foolishly confronted her. Insults had been thrown and cross words exchanged, but, like Nico, Vince assumed she had taken off somewhere to cool down.
Now, though, he wasn’t convinced. ‘She doesn’t have her medication with her,’ he explained, his high-pitched tone betraying his panic.
‘Are you sure?’ Nico knew Anya was epileptic, which required her taking tablets twice a day to keep seizures under control. It was something she treated seriously, setting herself alarms.
‘Yes, I went round to Larissa’s and checked. Everything is on her bedside table.’
‘And there’s no chance she took a couple of tablets with her?’
‘No!’ Vince was getting frustrated now. ‘She has a pill organiser for the different days of the week. The ones she should have taken today are still there. Look, Nico, I get that Anya was mad, but she’s a sensible girl when it comes to her medication. She knows about the complications and how serious it can be if she doesn’t take it.’
‘Maybe she’s with this boyfriend. Has David told you who it is?’
‘No. He says she never told him his name. All he knows is that they were hooking up and she had fallen for him. She told him it was someone she has known for a while, but she had never thought of him as more than a friend until recently.’ Vince paused for breath, and when he spoke again, the heat had gone from his tone. ‘What if something has happened to her?’
Guilt gnawed at Nico’s gut, as he remembered how angry he had been this morning, assuming that Anya had let him down. He should have contacted Vince sooner, instead of jumping to conclusions. Wherever Anya was, he hoped she was safe. If not, he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself.
13
BEFORE
When I told my friends from work that I was moving to Devon, they had all been eager to come and stay, desperate to see Duncan’s country home.
Despite making promises it would happen, I have been living here for seven months, and no arrangements have been made. I desperately miss them and there are times when our little WhatsApp group is the only thing keeping me sane.
There’s Juliette, all French chic cool, with her cutting wit and wry observations; excitable Tracy, who finds the positive in every situation; and scatty Aarna, who is the biggest and most lovable klutz I know and has a brilliant, self-deprecating sense of humour.
I have asked Duncan a couple of times if they can visit, but he has been ready with excuses for why it isn’t convenient. The second time I asked, I could tell he was getting irritated with me.
‘I love you, Mica, but you’re so selfish sometimes. You know how busy I am. Do you think I have time to entertain your friends?’
‘You don’t have to put yourself out. I can look after them,’ I had pointed out. ‘I just really miss them.’
‘For Christ’s sake. You’re a grown woman. Not a child. Are you telling me you can’t cope without your friends around? Stop being so pathetic.’
I stopped asking after that.
Therefore, it catches me off guard when he suggests they visit.
‘I thought you might all like that catch-up,’ he says.
Thrilled, I throw my arms around him. ‘Thank you.’
It’s exactly what I need. Much as I love Duncan, I have been struggling with depression recently, and this will be the perfect pick-me-up. The cold weather and constant darkness are affecting my mood. Things will be better when spring gets here.
I hate being unhappy because I know I’m lucky to be with him. Duncan reminds me on a regular basis that he could have anyone, but he has chosen me. At first, it was flattering, but now it is starting to make me a little bit paranoid. He is attractive and successful, and I try my best to be his equal, but somehow, I always seem to get it wrong, and he is always quick to point out when I do.
I have learnt to dread the social functions he takes me to. While he exudes effortless charm and confidence, I feel clumsy and stupid beside him, knowing everyone is probably wondering why he is with me.
It doesn’t help that I am isolated out here in the countryside. Duncan likes to know where I am, so even while walking Chester or visiting the town centre, I check in with him. I don’t know anyone else here, and although this house is enormous, sometimes I feel like I am trapped in a cage. Winter has been particularly difficult. Along with Duncan, it is ebbing at my confidence.
He can be picky, and he makes a lot of comments about my appearance, critiquing my hair or my clothes, or reminding me to be careful with what I eat, as the pounds can creep on.
He is doing it with my best interests at heart, but it can be overwhelming. I hadn’t realised until I met him that I had so many flaws.
This is not how I envisioned life would be when I agreed to move to Devon.
Things changed after the night he hit me.
He still claims that he didn’t do it intentionally. That he had seen me trip and reached out to catch me, his hand accidentally knocking my face.
I don’t remember it that way, but after I gained consciousness, I was so confused, and I had both him and Rob, who apparently had seen the whole thing, telling me otherwise.
I remember we had been fighting and that I was upset about what he had said to Dad, but after I fell, Duncan’s anger had evaporated, immediately replaced with concern.
What had happened was behind us and he was desperate to fix things.
There have been a couple of occasions now where he has really scared me and in the heat of the moment, I have wanted to walk out on him, but then he smothers me with so much love and kindness, and is the humblest man I know. He is a good person 90 per cent of the time. Do I want to give up the best thing that has ever happened to me because of that rogue 10 per cent?
Besides. He needs me. After both of those awful incidents, he has been at his most vulnerable. Opening up to me, talking about his childhood and how difficult things were for him and his mother, and how devastated he was when he lost her. I think it is the grief that occasionally sends him into a rage and I know it frightens him because he worries he can’t control it. I have to stand by him and love him the best I can. If I keep him anchored, make him realise he can trust me and I will never let him down, I know I can help him heal.
We had such an honest and heartfelt talk after my fall, so it surprised me the following day when he announced at breakfast, he would keep Shirley on until after Christmas, to give me a little more time to recover.
His comment about letting her go had been said in the heat of the moment. Something he didn’t mean. He didn’t really expect me to look after the house, I had presumed. But apparently he did, and he was keen to get me agreeing with him.
‘We don’t need a housekeeper, do we?’ He had phrased it as a question, as he bit into his toast. ‘It’s a bit indulgent, especially when I am trying to persuade people to give up their cash to help disadvantaged kids. The last thing I need is for one of the tabloids to print a story that I rely on other people to clean up my mess. You know they love to try to knock people off their pedestals. I don’t need any bad press.’
I wasn’t sure how to respond. ‘It’s a big house, Duncan.’
I must have sounded reluctant, because the next thing I knew, those damn dice of his were on the table.
‘How about we settle this our usual way? If you win, Shirley stays. If I do, I have myself a new cleaner in January.’ He winked at me then, as if it was a big joke.
‘I don’t think we should decide this with dice,’ I argued. ‘We need to discuss it some more.’
‘Oh come on, Mica. How many people have a housekeeper in this day and age? I’m sure we’ll cope. I can help too.’
Okay, so this had changed. Now we were a cleaning duo?
‘You’re going to help me scrub and hoover and dust?’ I queried.
‘Of course, why not? I’m not scared of a little manual labour,’ he laughed, picking up the dice. ‘So, what will you go for?’
‘Evens,’ I told him, caving. I should probably mix it up a little. I seem to go for evens a lot and I’m rarely lucky.
I watched the dice land, my stomach heavy as I saw the two and a three, and Duncan gave me a gloating smile.
‘Fine,’ I agreed, deciding it easiest to play along. It was still another week away. Plenty of time for him to change his mind. This was just one of his mad moments. I was certain he would change his mind about letting Shirley go. And it wasn’t that I was too precious to clean the house, but the place is bloody enormous.
Christmas came and went. A sombre affair with expensive gifts I didn’t want and huge Christmas trees decked out in red and silver baubles and ribbons, with hundreds of fairy lights making the branches twinkle. Duncan had hired a company to come in and dress them, and though they were beautiful, they were a little too perfect.
It was just the two of us and Rob for Christmas Day lunch. Phoebe was with Ed’s family and Dad and April back in the States. We Zoomed on Christmas Day evening, Duncan all smiles as he placed his arm around me and bantered with my dad.
Then New Year was spent in London at the most glamorous party I have ever attended. I wanted to enjoy it, but I felt out of my depth, and while Duncan was the life and soul, I retreated into myself. No one was interested in me. It was the Duncan show, and as everyone else counted down to midnight, I was desperate to escape to the sanctuary of our hotel room.
Rob drove us back to Dartmouth on New Year’s Day, then on the second morning of the new year, I was awoken by something landing on top of me.
‘Wakey, wakey.’
‘What are you doing?’ I asked, rubbing my eyes.
‘I’ve got you a present, for your first day in the job.’
My heart sank as I opened the package, finding a black apron inside. Lettering on the front read, Keep it clean.
‘Come on. Get up and put it on.’
‘I need to walk Chester before I can get started.’
‘No need,’ Duncan told me, as I glanced down at the dog bed and realised it was empty. That was at least one thing he had relented on. Chester still slept upstairs with us. But where was he?
My heart thumped in alarm. ‘What have you done with him?’
He laughed. ‘Honestly, Mica. Your face. He’s fine. Rob has taken him out. I want you to get an early start. You have a lot of work to do.’
He wasn’t kidding and I worked my butt off that first day, not liking that he kept hovering near me, reminding me what to do or telling me I had missed a bit.
By the time I was finished, every muscle in my body ached.
‘I thought you said you were going to help.’
‘I did. I supervised,’ he pointed out. ‘Not a bad day’s work, but you’re not to Shirley’s level. Still, I’m sure you will improve with practice.’
Cheeky bastard.
‘You’ve seen how hard I worked today.’
‘I did. And I expect you’ll want an early night. Tomorrow, I want you to give all of the floors a good clean.’
My face fell.
Somehow, I had managed to convince myself this was a one-off, a prank, but no, it seemed he was serious. Surely he didn’t expect me to clean the house permanently? This was just him being challenging and trying to push my buttons.
Although it was working, I tried my best not to show it, convinced he would eventually tire of this game.
So far, he hasn’t and I am beginning to resent him. I am not going to spend my life being his cleaner while he sits around with his feet up. I am close to telling him this, but when he makes the suggestion that my friends can visit, my mood changes.
Things are about to take a turn for the better, I just know it.
I am quick to message the WhatsApp group and Juliette is the first to respond.
We were beginning to think you were never going to ask.
Tracy and Aarna are also quick to reply, and after a little back and forth between the group and Duncan, we soon have a plan in place. They are going to come and stay for the night the first weekend of February.
I am so excited at the prospect of seeing them, and Duncan knows it.
As I count down to their arrival, nerves start to creep in. I want so desperately for this weekend to be perfect, and aside from the cleaning, for which I am putting a brave face on, everything seems to be going smoothly. Our relationship is on track and our sex life is good. He is being sweet and attentive, the perfect boyfriend, but I can’t shake the feeling that everything is about to derail.
The night before their visit, I can barely sleep.
Something will go wrong.
My friends will have to cancel.
Something important will come up and Duncan will say they can’t come.
He will lose his temper.
Please don’t let him lose his temper in front of them.
But none of those things happen, and suddenly they are there, getting out of Juliette’s Mini, and I burst into tears because I have missed them so badly.
‘Hey, what’s up with you?’ Aarna pulls me into a hug. ‘I thought you’d be pleased to see us.’
‘I am,’ I sniff. ‘These are happy tears. I’m just so glad you’re here.’ As I hug her back, I catch Duncan’s expression. He is scowling at me. ‘We’re both glad you’re here,’ I correct, easing back.
None of the girls pick up on his mood or the fact he disappears back into the house, because we are all so busy catching up with each other, and them making a fuss of Chester, who has come out to meet them, tail wagging in excitement, and we have so much to say. By the time we drag the bags into the hall, Duncan is back, but this time full of smiles. The perfect host.
‘Here, let me get those for you,’ he insists, scooping up the luggage as if it is simply bags of groceries. ‘I’ll take these upstairs and show you your rooms. I’m sure you all want to freshen up before you have a look around. Mica, why don’t you go and put the kettle on?’
He has them all on side, hanging on to his every word as they follow him up the stairs, though Juliette glances down at me, mouthing Mica and seeming amused.
I am so used to the name now, I forget she doesn’t know it’s what he calls me.
For a moment, I feel lost, standing wringing my hands together in the hallway. Chester nudges against me, his contact reassuring, and I spend a moment making a fuss of him before going through to put the kettle on as instructed.
Why can’t I shake this ominous feeling that something is going to go wrong?
It’s stupid really, because Duncan has made an effort for this weekend, asking one of his friends, who is a chef, to cook for us tonight.
After the girls have settled and we have caught up over tea, Chester and I give them a tour of the grounds and they excitedly bombard me with questions about life at The Old Rectory, asking what it is like to live with a movie star, if he is good in bed – that, of course, is from Juliette – if we have parties at the house, and if so, have I met any of his famous friends, and Aarna, who is the mystery and thriller queen, wants to know if there are any secret passageways or hidden doors.
There are none. At least not that I am aware of.
They also ask questions about work, and I say I am currently considering my options. I can’t risk Duncan trying to embarrass me again.
Of course I don’t tell them he has sacked his housekeeper and is making me clean for him. Perhaps I should, but I feel the need to provide the illusion of the life they think we have and to confess the truth would be too humiliating. There have been moments over the last few weeks when I have wondered if I have made a mistake in coming here.
