• Home
  • Rona Halsall
  • One Mistake: A totally unputdownable gripping psychological thriller Page 13

One Mistake: A totally unputdownable gripping psychological thriller Read online

Page 13


  She let his words roll round her mind. Fiona’s husband was quite a bit older than her, and was away a lot, but when he was home, he doted on her, buying her expensive gifts, taking her on romantic weekends away. Sara had often thought Fiona had hit the jackpot, having plenty of free time to pursue her own interests and still being treated like royalty by an adoring spouse. In truth, she’d felt a little jealous of the way Fiona’s husband so obviously cherished her, when she and Matt seemed to be drifting apart.

  ‘Really?’ The word burst out before she could stop it, struggling to believe it was true.

  James laughed. ‘Don’t sound so surprised. Some women do find me attractive, you know.’

  Sara looked out of the window. I do know. She could see his reflection in the glass, his profile, the amused curve of his lips, his straight nose, not too big, not too small. Everything in his face in proportion. There was no doubt that he was attractive, no doubt at all.

  ‘It didn’t last long. I felt there was… I don’t know.’ He pursed his lips, considering. ‘Let’s just say I wasn’t comfortable and ended things before it got started really. But you know what Fiona’s like. Has to have everything her own way, and she hasn’t forgiven me.’ She studied his reflection in the window, saw him glance at her. ‘She employed you to get back at me, you know. Wanted to oust me from my post when Dad was ill and I couldn’t put in the time. Thankfully, the other board members wouldn’t agree. I’ve been managing the place for years. Since way before Fiona joined the board.’ He sighed. ‘Anyway, we are where we are. But if she starts being funny with you, well, you’ll know why. She’s got a bit of a jealous streak, has our Fiona.’

  Sara closed her eyes, suddenly weary, wondering how her life had got so complicated. One lie on top of another. She thought about football practice, Fiona turning up to collect Chelsea. Quickly she got her phone out of her bag, tapped out a message.

  So sorry about tonight. I owed James a favour so I said I’d help him with a business meeting. Didn’t want Matt to find out. Please don’t mention anything to Hailey or the girls. Can we have a chat and I’ll explain?

  A reply came back a few minutes later.

  No problem. Just surprised. How about Monday?

  She replied with Perfect, although she knew she’d be worrying about things all weekend, then switched off her phone, put it back in her bag and gave James a quick smile. ‘Just had to remind Hailey about something.’

  They drove in silence for a while, then James started chatting about the dinner and she tried to focus her mind on the rest of the evening. But a voice in her head kept on interrupting, asking questions she didn’t want to answer. What if Matt finds out? Have I ruined my friendship with Fiona? Will she tell Hailey that she saw me with James?

  Chapter Eighteen

  The hotel was outside Harrogate, a handsome new building designed to look like a stately home, with a gritstone facade and a sweeping driveway planted with an avenue of trees. It was set in landscaped grounds, the lawns dotted with mature trees that must have been there before the place was built. They arrived at a circular drop-off point in front of the entrance, punctuated with a bubbling fountain at the centre. Sara stared about her, bemused by the grandeur of the place.

  ‘If you’d like to wait here, I’ll go and park up.’ James hopped out and came round to open her door for her. ‘Won’t be two ticks,’ he said, before getting back in the car and driving round the side of the building, where the car park was hidden behind a screen of shrubs, keeping first impressions of the place picture perfect.

  Nervously she waited for him in front of the imposing entrance, which featured a gritstone arch with a couple of gargoyles guarding the smoked-glass doors. She felt exposed in her evening dress, and wrapped her arms around her chest, turning her back on the building and anyone inside who might be watching her. Goose bumps prickled her arms, and she shivered in the evening breeze, wishing she’d thought to bring a pashmina or a jacket.

  James was humming to himself as he walked towards her a few minutes later. He beamed and offered his arm, which she took gratefully, needing support to navigate the gravel in her high heels. ‘You look stunning, by the way. Did I tell you that?’

  A blush crept into her cheeks. She could feel his eyes on her as she concentrated on where she was putting her feet. ‘Oh, I don’t know about that,’ she muttered, unsure what to do with such a compliment.

  The inside of the building was just as impressive as the outside, although the decor was more modern and sleek than she was expecting. The walls were a dazzling white, the floor of the foyer polished limestone, a reception desk on the left, two lifts at the rear. To the right was a seating area, with three leather sofas surrounding a pool, water flowing out of the wall and splashing down a series of gritstone steps.

  They walked over to reception, and while James found out where the event was being held, Sara picked up a glossy brochure and leafed through it. Her hands were clammy, leaving fingerprints on the cover, but she discovered that the hotel offered spa days and weekends as well as having exclusive entertainment suites, as the literature called them. She put the brochure back in its holder and surreptitiously wiped her hands on her dress, ready for the inevitable handshakes. It was that sort of place, that sort of do, and she’d never felt more out of her comfort zone in her life. The idea that she might have to do this more than once, made her feel queasy.

  If I do well tonight, maybe we can call the deal off, she thought. Though if she did do well, perhaps James would want her to do it again. It was hard to know. Her heart was pounding, her stomach griping and her legs felt all shaky. She was on the verge of telling him she couldn’t go through with it. You’re here now, she told herself sternly. Only a couple of hours then you can go home. Or would it be longer? She wished she’d asked.

  The lies, that was the problem, and the circle of people she was lying to was growing all the time. Now Fiona was involved, and that in itself felt like juggling with fire.

  The irony was, she’d always prided herself on her honesty. After her upbringing – seeing how her mother’s lies had backfired so spectacularly – she’d vowed never to tread the same road. But look at me now, Mum. I didn’t bloody learn, did I? Her teeth ground together. One momentary lapse. One desperate lunge to keep her family on the right side of solvency and her marriage intact. She couldn’t believe she’d ever thought that stealing money was the answer, however desperate she’d been. It was a loan, she reminded her inner critic. I was always going to put it back. Always.

  James turned to her, his hand on the small of her back as he guided her towards the lifts. ‘Second floor. I’ve been to this suite before.’ There was a note of excitement in his voice. ‘I think you’ll be impressed.’

  And she was. It was a far more intimate setting than she’d imagined. Two round tables set with eight places each, small groups of people already gathered in a seating area in front of the large bay window, which was swathed with heavy golden curtains. The lighting was subtle, the carpet deep and a delight to walk on, all soft and springy, muffling the sound. A pianist played a grand piano in the corner. Sara felt like she was in a London club in the 1930s. It was classy, very sophisticated, and she was glad of the dress and shoes.

  A tall man with dark hair and an even darker beard strode towards them. ‘James,’ he said, holding out his hand, which James shook enthusiastically. ‘Good to see you. And this must be the lovely Sara.’ He bent towards her as he shook her hand, his clasp firm and lingering. ‘I’m Lewis. As in Hamilton.’ He gave a little laugh and led them over to the seating area, grabbing a couple of glasses from a tray as a waiter passed and handing one to Sara, the other to James.

  Champagne? She took a sip, felt the bubbles fizz up her nose. Took another sip to steady her nerves as they joined the gathering and introductions were made.

  ‘Just waiting for two more, then we’re all set to go,’ Lewis said, beaming at them, his teeth unnaturally white and even. ‘Good journey?’ />
  He was the sort of man who demanded all your attention, his eyes locking with hers in a way that made her feel it would be rude to look away. She was aware of James moving off, chatting to someone else. Then another man came and introduced himself – an importer of training shoes – and Lewis excused himself to greet the final two arrivals.

  A waiter appeared to top up Sara’s glass, and she hesitated, feeling a little tipsy already. ‘Go on, be a devil,’ the man she was talking to said, noting her hesitation. She felt unable to refuse, but decided she wouldn’t drink any more until she’d at least had a starter.

  Thankfully, a little while later, Lewis called everyone to their tables.

  ‘Everything okay?’ James asked as he took his place next to her. She smiled and nodded, glad that he was back by her side. She’d spoken to half the men in the room already and found them to be a little intense. She thought she’d done all right; had asked about their businesses and responded with appropriate feigned interest when they started telling her the details. Now she really needed a little catch-up with James to debrief on what she’d learned and find out exactly what he wanted her to do next.

  He leant towards her, whispered in her ear, ‘Keep up the good work. You’re doing great.’ His breath tickled her neck and she giggled, then told herself to grow up, because she sounded like a teenager on a first date. It was the champagne. It always made her silly.

  Keep your distance, this is business, her sensible self whispered.

  She leant away from him, unfolded her napkin and spread it on her lap while waiters served the first course.

  Lewis was sitting opposite her, and as the person in charge of the event, his eyes roamed the room, making sure everything was okay. But several times his gaze caught hers and he gave her a little smile. She wasn’t sure why it made her uncomfortable – maybe because she’d never been to such a formal event, with people she didn’t know – but she wished she didn’t have quite so much cleavage on show. It was coincidence, she told herself when she found him looking at her again, inevitable when you sat opposite someone. But still she felt hot and bothered, like a child forced to sit at a dinner table with distant relatives talking about them as if they weren’t there, wanting to go home. It’s just this once, she reminded herself as she took another mouthful of smoked salmon. Tough it out, keep your eyes on your food.

  The night trudged on, the buzz of chatter and laughter getting increasingly loud as more champagne was consumed. After her first glass, Sara made a point of not drinking any more. There was no way she could roll home drunk without Matt having serious suspicions about where she’d been, and anyway, she had to drive herself back from the community centre. She checked her watch. Almost nine. The meal was being served at a snail’s pace, all five courses of it, and there was still dessert to come, followed by a cheese board. She’d been hoping to be home by ten, but it was going to be much later. The muscles at the back of her neck pulled tighter, the tension almost unbearable now.

  Her neighbour, a portly middle-aged man called Alan, was very attentive, leaning in towards her when he spoke so she could hear what he was saying. He was pleasant enough, told her about his ex-wife, his children. Then they got on to her family, to the point where she didn’t want to tell him any more details and changed the subject back to business. Apparently he imported a range of women’s yoga wear, and at last she was on familiar ground. Christ, this is hard work, she decided as he regaled her with the technicalities of weft and weave and Lycra versus cotton.

  Her eyes wanted to close, the lids getting heavy. The air was thick and warm, Alan’s garlicky breath pungent in her nostrils, the heat of him as he leant close to her, his arm brushing against hers making her skin crawl. She had a sneaking suspicion he was looking down her cleavage and finally decided she’d had enough.

  She turned to get James’s attention, wanting to ask him what time they were going to leave, but he was deep in conversation with the lady on the other side of him – a petite Chinese woman in a beautifully ornate dress, who was giggling at his jokes as though they were hilarious.

  Her phone buzzed and she pulled it out of her bag, heart skipping a beat. It was a message from Matt.

  Where are you? Ezra making a fuss because he’s woken up and you’re not here.

  Grateful to have a genuine excuse to leave, she tapped James on the shoulder, and he turned, obviously surprised at being interrupted. ‘I’m so sorry, but I’ve got to go. There’s a problem at home. Ezra’s not well and Matt doesn’t know what to do.’ She stood, her mind made up. ‘It’s all right, you stay. I’m going to get a cab.’

  James made a grab for her arm, trying to stop her, but she pulled away.

  ‘Thank you so much for a lovely evening,’ she said to him before turning to Alan. ‘So nice meeting you.’

  Alan’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘You’re not going, are you? You can’t, not yet.’

  ‘I’m afraid I have to. My little boy isn’t well.’

  James stood, following her as she started to make her way to the door, aware that she was being watched. Nobody else had left, and she hoped her departure wouldn’t undermine his efforts to get some good deals. Will it still count as payment off my debt? Oh God, I hope so; please don’t let this be for nothing. It had been a tortuous evening and she couldn’t contemplate having to do it again.

  ‘Let me make sure they call you a taxi,’ he said, ever the gentleman.

  Once they were outside the room, however, the smile slipped from his face, to be replaced by a scowl. ‘You going home early was not part of the deal,’ he murmured, clearly not wanting their conversation to be overheard, even though the door was shut.

  ‘I’m sorry, but that man next to me was getting a bit creepy; honestly, if he’d touched me again, I would’ve hit him.’

  James stared at her for a moment, his hand clasping her wrist so she couldn’t walk away. ‘So there isn’t an emergency at home then?’ His eyes sparked with annoyance.

  ‘Oh well… yes, there really is a problem,’ she stammered, her cheeks burning. Ezra not wanting to go to sleep was hardly a matter of life or death, but now she’d made up her mind, she was desperate to leave. ‘Please, James. I’ve got to go. I didn’t think we’d be out this late, and if Matt finds out where I’ve been, he’ll kill me.’

  James’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. ‘I’m sure it wouldn’t be that drastic.’ He huffed out an impatient breath. ‘This really is not ideal. Alan is an important supplier and I can’t piss him off.’

  The walls closed in around her, and she suddenly felt vulnerable. She was a long way from home, with people she didn’t know, in a situation she was far from comfortable with. As far as she was aware, given the conversations that she’d eavesdropped on, very little business had been discussed. Maybe that would come later, after dinner. The thought of having to stay any longer brought sudden tears to her eyes.

  James softened then and let go of her wrist. ‘Okay, I suppose I should have been clearer about times. My fault. At least he enjoyed talking to you, so maybe your job here is done.’

  He led her to the lifts, went down to the foyer with her and waited until a taxi arrived, before saying goodbye with an unexpected kiss on the cheek. Sara blushed, very aware of the musky scent of his aftershave, his beard tickling her skin, the whisper of his breath on her face. It made her shiver, brought a surge of unwanted feelings fizzing through her.

  ‘I’ve got some follow-up work to do, so I won’t be in the office for a few days now,’ he said. ‘But we’re pretty much up to date, aren’t we?’

  She nodded, desperate to get back to her own little world.

  When she got home, having changed out of her dress at the community centre, the bedroom light was on and she found Ezra sitting in bed with Matt, reading his favourite storybook.

  She stopped in the doorway, her heart filled with a rush of love. This is where I belong. A new resolve sparked inside her. I’ve got to talk to James about our deal. I can’t
do this again.

  She went and sat on the bed, Matt’s face breaking into a relieved smile.

  ‘How was your night?’ he asked as Ezra snuggled up to her, wrapping his arms round her neck. ‘I saw Fiona at football, and she told me what was going on. She said it was her fault. Apologised for taking you away on a Thursday.’

  Sara buried her face in Ezra’s hair, aware that she owed Fiona yet another favour now. She’d have to thank her for covering up. Then Matt’s words registered, and she looked over at him, puzzled. ‘How come you were at football? Hailey took the girls tonight.’

  He nodded. ‘Yes, she did. But Ezra wouldn’t settle, so I gave her a ring and she talked me into joining her for a bit.’ He laughed. ‘She told me I was a boring bastard working all the time and I needed to spend more time with the kids, so I caved in.’ He leaned back against the pillows, hands behind his head, a smile playing on his lips as he stared at the ceiling. ‘We actually had quite a laugh, and Ezra was up for it for a bit.’ He ruffled his son’s hair. ‘Especially with the promise of milkshakes at the end. He did pretty well, to be honest. I even got him to have a little kick-about with me, so I’ve not lost hope.’

  Sara felt a prickle of annoyance, a longing for something that she couldn’t have. Time she’d missed, an occasion that all her family had enjoyed without her. You’ve only yourself to blame, said the voice in her head. And she was more determined than ever that it wasn’t going to happen again.

  Chapter Nineteen

  By the time it got to Monday, the events of the previous Thursday had started to dim in Sara’s mind while she worried instead about her husband’s blossoming friendship with her sister, and their ability to manage perfectly well without her. She told herself she was being stupid, but still, something niggled at her.