White Lies: A gripping psychological thriller with an absolutely brilliant twist, page 6
I lowered my voice to a whisper. ‘I genuinely have no recollection of treating him professionally. I don’t remember seeing him here at all.’
‘Well, you sure as hell can’t open his notes to look, Al. You’re absolutely certain he got the message then? It’s just… you can really do without any love-struck kids hanging around giving people the wrong idea, given your history.’
I could feel my face turning red as I coloured, guiltily. ‘You mean Rob?’
‘Yes, of course. Who else could I have meant?’
‘Rob was a consenting adult, and we’re married now! We’ve been married for eight years!’
‘I’m not disputing it turned out to be the real deal. He was, however, already married to someone else when you both met, here, and you were his doctor,’ David gently, but correctly, pointed out. ‘You saw Rob over a course of appointments – it wasn’t a one-off – and while you were bloody lucky to get away with just a warning after his ex made that “anonymous” complaint against you; it’s still sitting there on the list of Registered Medical Practitioners. So, get this boy off your list now because, frankly, if he shows up to see you again, it’s going to make you look like this is how you pick up men, Al.’
‘Knock, knock.’
We both jumped, David twisting round in his chair, to see Rob himself standing in the doorway, his hand raised and against the doorframe. My mouth fell open. How much had he heard?
Rob reached into his pocket with his other hand and pulled out my mobile, holding it aloft. ‘You left this at home in the rush this morning. I just found it and thought you might need it in case the school called or something, so I brought it down. Bev let me in.’ He looked between David and I. ‘Everything all right?’ His tone was light, but I could hear a very slight edge to it.
David jumped up, smiled warmly and offered Rob his hand. ‘Rob! Good to see you again, mate!’
I winced inwardly. David wasn’t the kind of bloke who could pull off ‘mate’ with any conviction at all.
Rob shook his hand and looked at me silently.
‘We’ve had the morning from hell,’ David said chattily. ‘Systems all down, Internet up the spout, patients kicking off. Still, we got there in the end, thank God.’ He laughed. ‘Anyway, I’ll let you both get on, but as I was just saying, Alex, if you can pick up that man’s record we’ve got to report on, that would be great.’
He looked at me pointedly, obviously thinking that Rob might have heard the last thing he said, too.
‘Will do,’ I said quietly, suddenly exhausted.
‘Cheers, Rob, see you soon, pal!’ He patted Rob’s shoulder heartily and, head down, scurried off to his office, like the White Rabbit.
Rob came in, sat down and slid my mobile across to me.
‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘That was kind of you.’
‘That was a lot of “pal” and “mate” from David. He’s very chipper today considering the morning it sounds like you’ve had.’
‘Just relief that it’s over, I expect. It makes you go a bit giddy and weird when you’re working under high stress like that and trying not to mess up by giving someone something they ought not to have.’ I couldn’t meet his eye.
‘You look shattered.’ Rob reached out and beckoned with his fingers. ‘Give me your car keys and I’ll swap with you. I’ll take the Qashqai back and collect the girls from school – that way we don’t have to switch the car seats over. You take the BMW and come home when you’re done here.’
‘Are you sure?’ I glanced at him gratefully. ‘I don’t want to mess up your work.’
‘You’re not.’
‘Well, thank you.’ There was another pause and I said quickly: ‘I’m sorry that I can’t stop and say let’s go to lunch or something, but I’m not even going to get time for a sandwich today; I’ve got all this morning to catch up on as well as a load of other stuff.’ I smiled apologetically and gestured at the paper mountain.
‘There’s nothing going on that I should know about, is there, Al?’
I stopped short. He waited, and I shook my head.
He appeared to consider that. ‘OK.’ He got to his feet and leant over to kiss me goodbye. His mouth lingered on mine for a moment longer than I was expecting. I’d started to pull back before I realised my mistake. I managed to salvage it, though, and even felt myself starting to respond to his touch.
He broke away. ‘I think we’d better stop there, don’t you? I’ll see you back at home.’
* * *
I didn’t tell him then and there about Jonathan because I was at work. It wasn’t the time or the place. That’s all. And it’s lunacy to suggest I could – or would – have compromised an entire medical centre to prevent there being any computerised record of subsequent patient appointments that morning, even made-up ones. I was not anticipating Jonathan would come into the surgery, nor did I ask him to. We didn’t have any contact whatsoever after I left his parents’ property. I was only in early to look at and update Christy Day’s record because I was frightened the boy I’d seen at her house was below the age of consent.
Neither did I apprehend and destroy the handwritten appointment list, and I take issue that it’s even being considered an official document. It was barely more than a piece of scrap paper. In any case, I put it back on Bev’s desk. I wasn’t nervous and panicking. I was simply looking at the list to see if he was telling me the truth and been documented as Shahid Khan.
I’m just not that devious. It’s as simple as that.
4
Dr Alexandra Inglis
By the time I’d finally finished at half past five, I was exhausted. My limbs felt heavy with fatigue and I couldn’t stop yawning, partly through dehydration. For the first time since the previous weekend, I was thinking longingly of a large G&T.
I said goodbye to Cleo and David, the last ones left to lock up, and stepped out into the overcast early evening. Looking for our BMW in the car park, I saw that Rob had typically left it right in the farthest corner, carefully reversed into a space over by the wooded bank that backed onto the gardens of the terraced houses behind. My husband never parks conveniently close to anywhere he wants to be if he can pointlessly park miles away. My shoulders sagged slightly, and I began to walk across the tarmac, thinking about Jonathan sitting in my room talking about fucking, and David’s advice.
It hadn’t even occurred to me that what I’d done might appear to be an emerging pattern of my using appointments to ‘pick up men’. I could see, however, when the two events were placed alongside each other – even with an eight-year time lag between them – it might make my insistence that I’d not known Jonathan was my patient appear unreliable, at best.
David was right, I needed to remove Jonathan from my list quickly. I’d drafted the letter to Gary and Christy Day explaining that, after my house visit, I’d decided it was in everybody’s interest for them to move as a family from my list to my colleague Peter’s, but after the fallout from the morning’s computer fiasco, I hadn’t managed to catch Peter or Cleo in time to confirm that was OK with them before the post went.
I also couldn’t believe Jonathan seemed to think I’d known exactly who he was; it was ridiculous. Knowingly have sex with a seventeen-year-old patient? I’d be struck off immediately – and who in their right mind would risk that happening? Never mind the financial impact, which would be hugely significant for our family: why would I waste all of my years of hard work and gamble away a career I enjoyed? All for one night? It could never be worth it. And that’s before even considering the effect it would have on Rob and the girls.
I imagined our innocent children back at our safe, cosy house, eating tea. By the time my mother was my age, she had a twenty-year-old daughter – older than Jonathan. Christ… I pictured him trailing his school tie behind him as he’d left my office, then recalled the blur of our naked bodies in the dark hotel room and shivered with disgust. I’d had sex flashbacks about various exes many times over the years that had made me feel slightly grossed out, but this was in a different league altogether. It was repulsive. Seventeen.
I reached into my pocket for the keys my husband had given me earlier. I blipped the car unlocked as I approached, walked around to put my bag in the boot, and almost screamed to discover Jonathan, hidden from view by the car, sitting down on a spread-out coat on the grass hillock, next to a rucksack, waiting for me.
‘What the hell are you doing?’ I gasped. ‘You scared the life out of me! You can’t jump out at people like that – Jesus Christ!’ I stepped back, shaking.
‘I didn’t jump out.’ He got up stiffly. He’d obviously been there a while. ‘I just want to talk to you, that’s all.’ Then he opened the passenger side and climbed in.
Aghast, I opened the driver’s side. ‘Get out of my car, now!’ I ordered.
He sighed, as if I was being completely unreasonable, and did as he was told, walking round the bonnet to stand in front of me.
‘Did you not hear what I said to you earlier?’ I demanded. ‘Even if I wanted to, doctors aren’t allowed to have relationships with their patients. I would lose my job.’
‘Jesus, stop being so dramatic. No one’s here. No one’s looking. I just want to talk, not do you in the back of your car.’
I shrank away. Where was the vulnerable boy sitting on his coat of just two seconds ago? He was suddenly talking like some slightly bored and irritated much older man. His shape-shifting was impossible to keep up with. I didn’t know how to place him, how to deal with him.
‘I want you to leave.’
He sighed again. ‘Fine, if we can’t talk privately in the car, I’ll say it here then. I know what’s in this for you, Alex. You wanted attention; I gave it to you. I made you feel better about yourself… but I also liked it. You’re different.’
‘Stop.’ I held my hands up. ‘You don’t understand what it was about at all. I’m not different, I’m a mother. I’ve got two little girls and a husband. I’m old enough to be your mother.’
‘Age is just a number.’
I half laughed in disbelief. ‘You don’t get to say that yet. You’re too young. Just go home, Jonathan.’
He stepped forward suddenly, only inches away from my face, and grabbed my wrist. I could feel his body trembling. ‘We can be careful. No one needs to know.’ He was holding me tightly enough to hurt.
‘Let go of me, now.’
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.’ His voice was calm, and I had no idea if he was being sincere. After a moment’s pause, he released me. ‘Just sleep with me again,’ he said suddenly. ‘One night, sober, and I’ll leave you alone after that if you still want me to.’
I stepped back, rubbing my reddening skin. ‘You’ve not heard a single word I’ve said, have you?’ I struggled to keep my voice level. ‘Or do you just not care that I could lose my job?’
‘OK, then sleep with me again or I’ll tell everyone what we did.’
I gasped and, as I looked at him, rage swept up inside me. He reminded me, suddenly, of Hannah. I’d gone round to her flat to ask her what the fuck she thought she was doing, coming on to my husband at her party, asking HIM to be the one to save her from the letchy hands of the more senior managers. Her protector. She’d had the same untroubled expression as Jonathan was now wearing when I’d screamed ‘he’s MARRIED’ in her face, before she slammed the door in mine.
‘Tell everyone then,’ I said. ‘I didn’t know who you were, and my husband already knows I’ve been unfaithful, so the only sordid detail left is you trying to blackmail me into having sex with you. You’re really trying to do that, by the way?’ I was revolted.
Quick as a flash, he stepped over to me, ducked his head, and kissed me on the mouth. He gasped as his lips briefly touched mine, before I stumbled back and looked around us, only to see David, overcoat on, keys in his hand, right by his car, silently watching.
Our eyes met, and David looked away first before getting into his Land Rover and pulling sharply out of his space.
I watched him drive off, my mouth slightly open in shock, realising instantly how that must have appeared. I turned slowly back to Jonathan. ‘That was my colleague who just saw us then. I’d already told him about you coming to the surgery today, but I also said you’d got the message and you’d be leaving me alone.’
‘Alex, I—’ Jonathan began.
‘Be quiet,’ I said. ‘You’ve just made it look like we’re having some sort of affair. He’ll now be duty-bound to report this; so, yes, everyone is going to know what we did. Well done. But you know what? I’m going to make sure they understand exactly what you just said to me, that you tried to blackmail me into having sex with you. What a deeply disgusting thing to do.’ Glaring at him, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, turned away and threw my bag on the back seat of the car.
‘Alex, just stop—’ he began,
‘Get out of my way,’ I said, climbing in and slamming the door.
I started the car and he moved reluctantly to the side, seconds before I roared across the car park to the exit, only pausing to look furiously in the mirror before I pulled out onto the main road. He was still standing there, watching me, his face now expressionless.
I swung right, violently, and started to drive, gripping the steering wheel tightly, before screaming out loud and slapping the wheel with both hands, my anger and fear exploding without warning, causing me to swerve dangerously close to the parked cars lining the road on either side. The bastard. The nasty, stupid, little bastard. I hurtled up to the traffic lights at the end of the road, on red, and stopped with a jolt, breathing too fast, before shoving the gearstick into first again and swinging out onto the main carriageway. My jaw was clenched so tightly – as I drove too close behind the painfully slow-moving traffic – that my muscles started to ache. ‘Just fucking MOVE!’ I yelled, as a bus, one vehicle up, pulled over to pick up passengers, forcing me to stop completely. I had no choice but to sit there helplessly as traffic streamed past on the other side of the road, the swirling rage beginning to solidify within my stomach into a huge, leaden lump as a suffocating tightness began to spread from my chest outwards and up my throat. David no longer believed me, I could tell. Unless I could convince him what he’d seen in the car park was not how it appeared, he really would report me. I hadn’t lied to Jonathan – he had a duty to.
I swallowed, acutely aware of the seriousness of this new situation, and glanced left to see a mother marching up the street crossly pulling the hand of a little girl who was crying and trying to keep up – almost having to run. She was about the same age as Maisie. My eyes welled up; I could feel her unhappiness so acutely it physically hurt. She was only small. Too tiny to be made so sad by her mummy.
What had I done? What the fuck had I done?
I had to look away and wiped my wet face with my hand as the tears started to spill over. I tried to think about when I should tell Rob what had happened. Should I do it straight away or wait and see if I could drive the girls to his mother’s first, in the morning? Tilly was such a light sleeper, she’d definitely wake if he started crashing around upstairs packing a bag, then Maisie would be disturbed too. It would be unbearably traumatic for them to see him leave in the night; because wouldn’t I do exactly that if I were him and was told the ‘stranger’ his wife slept with turned out to be a seventeen-year-old she had a connection to after all, and had been seen kissing only hours earlier?
The traffic began to move again. My anger had drained completely, leaving dry fear in its place as I tried to think clinically about practicalities. It probably would be better if the girls weren’t there. Nothing was going to formally happen until Monday morning now, so, although another fourteen hours wouldn’t make much difference to Rob, it could potentially be a great deal to our daughters.
When I finally pulled onto the drive, through the window I could see Rob playing monsters with Maisie and Tilly, chasing them round the sofas, arms outstretched as they tried to run away from him. I couldn’t hear the growling and the delighted screams but knew exactly how they would sound. I sat in the front seat and watched them for a moment, before climbing out and walking up to the front door, smiling as the girls saw me and pointed. I was just about able to hear the shouts of ‘Mummy!’ from behind the glass as they turned and ran to come and find me.
My key turned stiffly in the lock, and I pushed the door gently open in case either of them was already right behind it, but they were still rounding the corner. The house was warm and smelt comfortingly of cooking. Maisie jumped happily into my arms, and Tilly clasped at my leg. ‘Mummy’s home, Daddy!’ Maisie called, and Rob appeared in the sitting room doorway, puffing slightly, hair all over the place. He smiled happily at me. ‘Busy game of monsters on the go,’ he said as I kissed Maisie and then Tilly.
‘So I see! What fun!’ I laughed. The actions were all there, but I was completely numb inside. I could only picture myself reaching out and in slow motion sweeping the family photos off the sideboard, throwing the vase of roses on the floor, the glass smashing everywhere, the girls screaming for real, Rob rushing forward to stop me… because I had as good as broken it all. I put my bag down and caught my reflection in the hall mirror. I had to quickly turn away. I couldn’t look myself in the eye.
We put the girls through a bath and they busily told me all about their day; who they’d played with, what they’d had for lunch, their best and worst bits. I read Tilly stories as she lay on her tummy on her bed, and I sat on the carpet next to her. She listened carefully to The Highway Rat, twisting my hair absently round her finger. After her songs, I tucked her in, told her I loved her and added ‘Best littlest girl!’ to which she beamed and replied: ‘best mummy!’
‘That’s a lovely thing to say, darling, thank you! Night, night.’ I bit my lip to stop my tears, and quickly bent to kiss her before she noticed anything was wrong.
