Keep Your Friends Close: A gripping psychological thriller full of shocking twists you won’t see coming. June Taylor
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Mel met his stare. He dumped the jewellery into her hand, making her arm give way with the force, but she managed to keep hold of it. With a disapproving shake of her head, she moved Will to one side and marched into Karin’s room, placing the jewellery back on her bed.
Turned off the light and shut the door.
Will hadn’t moved, still out on the landing. He stared at Mel, long and hard, pushing past her to get to his own room and slammed the door in her face.
‘Will. Will,’ she shouted. ‘We should talk about this.’
But he couldn’t hear her, and it was pointless knocking. She left it a few seconds before turning the handle, opening his door just enough to make herself visible.
Will was in his usual position leaning against the radiator. His eyes, almost black, penetrated hers. Mel would have thought them beautiful, if they weren’t so unnerving. He began to pull on greasy lengths of hair either side of his face, moving on to his beard.
‘Will.’
She realized he couldn’t lip-read from where she was standing and went in a bit further, as near as she dared, exaggerating her words as she tried again. ‘I think we need another little chat, Will. Don’t you?’
She waited. Nothing came back.
‘I need to remind you that this is our home and you have to respect that.’
After a few moments he began to sign something. Angrily. Fingers slapping together, arms flapping. His facial expression never altered.
‘Look, I have no idea what you’re saying to me,’ said Mel, ‘and it doesn’t sound very pleasant. Are you able to write it down? We might understand each other better that way.’ Mel pretended to scribble something in the air, but Will shook his head. She had asked him to do this before and he always refused.
She decided to take a different approach. Pushing his books to one side, she sat on the floor, an attempt to make this less confrontational. She just had to hope that he wouldn’t lash out. ‘Look, Will, I take it that you do still want this chance Karin is giving you? It’d be such a waste if you mess up now, after all the hard work you’re putting in. Don’t you agree?’
Silence.
‘So have you anything more to say, or do we understand one another?’
He stood up, towering over her.
Louie was waiting for her moment to come again, watching their table discreetly in between preparing drinks orders at the bar. Karin looked sensational in that dress. How easily it had slipped off. Louie observed her pushing food around her plate. Occasionally a miniscule forkful would end up in her mouth as she smiled at the old fart she had just agreed to marry.
As soon as the waitress began clearing away their plates, Louie was ready to make her move. She held off for a few more moments until they were handed the dessert menus. On her approach, armed with a carafe of water, the old fart took hold of Karin’s hand across the table.
‘I’m so sorry,’ said Louie, placing the carafe between them with a thud, forcing them apart. ‘I don’t mean to interrupt, but I think I recognize you now. You used to work here, right? Left about a year or so ago, maybe. Was it?’
‘Yes,’ Karin replied, snapping the menu shut, her face turning pale. ‘That’s right.’
Louie registered the anxious smile that Karin gave to the old fart, and then she continued. ‘Is it erm, Karin? Karin—?’ She genuinely did wonder what Karin would be calling herself these days, doubting very much that she would have gone back to using Svendsen because of the association with her mother.
‘It’s Rhodes,’ she replied. There was a strain in her voice.
‘Of course,’ said Louie.
At least that was something then. So this man, who had blatantly just proposed to her girlfriend, probably didn’t know who Karin’s mother was. But did he know the significance of her twenty-second birthday?
Karin began twisting her newly acquired ring round her finger. ‘Maybe I do remember you. Vaguely,’ she said. ‘Oh erm. This is Aaron. My fiancé.’ She might as well have fired the words out of a gun. Likewise when she said, ‘Aaron, this is – I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name.’
‘Louie. Some people call me Lou.’
Aaron offered his hand. Louie shook it, even though it disgusted her.
Then, pointing an accusing finger at Karin, as if the thought had only just occurred to her, Louie said: ‘You once caught me sketching seahorses when I was meant to be working, didn’t you? And promised you wouldn’t tell.’
‘What?’ said Karin, laughing to cover up her discomfort. ‘Oh. Yes, I do remember that.’
Louie hoped the memory was digging into her heart, picturing Louie with her sketchpad and pencil. Karin would be recalling how much she loved her then, how perfect they were together and how much she still loved her now. But to give Karin some time for these things to sink in, Louie turned her attention to Aaron, giving him the tourist spiel about the two Eric Gill seahorses carved into the exterior of the hotel, plus the other forty-seven that had been added to the interior. ‘Have a look in the shower grate in your room,’ she added, ‘before you put the anti-slip mat down. Even young people find it a bit slippery in there.’
‘I certainly will,’ said Aaron, not taking issue with her last comment. He leant in to Karin and kissed her hand. ‘So. Did you tell?’
Karin swallowed, her cheeks as red as her hair. ‘No. I would never do that.’ She looked up at Louie, dabbing her mouth with her napkin. All of a sudden, she fired back her chair and stood up. ‘Sorry. I really need to go to the Ladies again.’
Louie watched her go. ‘Is she okay, do you think?’
‘She’ll be fine. Her stomach’s playing up.’
‘Shouldn’t you go after her?’
‘I can hardly follow her into the Ladies, can I?’ Aaron took a large gulp of wine, holding it in his mouth before swallowing, fixing his gaze on Louie. ‘So, are you an artist?’
‘Of sorts, yes.’
‘Are you any good?’
‘Not for me to say really.’
‘I’m always on the lookout for artwork.’
Louie lifted up her apron and fumbled about in her back СКАЧАТЬ