Keep Your Friends Close: A gripping psychological thriller full of shocking twists you won’t see coming. June Taylor
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He hovered for a second, waiting until it was safe to give Mel a secret wink. When she refused to participate he seemed disappointed, and maybe a little embarrassed. ‘You going out tonight, Mel?’ he asked.
‘Me? No, I have some work to catch up on. But I’ll be thinking of you both on your lovely birthday weekend.’
‘Well erm, my suitcase is in the hallway,’ said Karin.
‘Great. I’ll load it into the car,’ Aaron replied, rubbing his hands with renewed excitement. ‘See you later then, Mel.’
‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,’ she shouted as he disappeared again. ‘And don’t you either,’ she added, pointing her finger at Karin who was still hovering awkwardly.
‘Really appreciate you telling me, Mel,’ she whispered.
‘Let me know how you get on. Okay? And just remember what I’ve said.’
Karin nodded.
Despite her underlying vulnerability, Mel knew that Karin could also be headstrong when she wanted to be. But at least she had given her something to think about.
Karin pushed her handbag onto her shoulder, emitting a kind of schoolgirl squeal as she ran her nails across her teeth to show both her fear and excitement. ‘Wish me luck,’ she said.
Mel thought she had gone, but then Karin rushed back in again to say: ‘Forgot to mention it, Mel. I’ve transferred five thousand pounds into your account today. To cover rent, bills, all my arrears. Plus a little bit extra to say thank you.’
‘Aw, Karin. That’s very generous of you.’
‘I know it’s more than I owe, but it’s the least I can do.’
‘You didn’t have to do that. But thank you.’ Mel gave her a kiss on the cheek. ‘Now off you go.’
Karin smiled, blowing her a kiss in return.
‘And remember to enjoy yourself,’ Mel shouted.
She waited to hear the front door close then poured herself a large glass of wine. Not long after sitting down to relax, she heard Will padding about in the kitchen, probably snacking on toast and jam. Thinking of her promise to Karin, she returned to the kitchen and offered him some wine, remembering that he didn’t drink, and told him that she would make pasta in a little while.
Will gave her one of his looks that shivered down her spine then went back upstairs.
The Friday night queues out of Leeds had died down, although there was still a weekend frenzy about the way cars jerked and swerved across the baking tarmac. It was 7.15, the evening warm and sultry. Even the buildings looked too hot, the bricks of the older ones as well as the glassier newer ones straining to stand up tall.
Crossing the city always prompted memories of when she had first arrived here. Back then all she was interested in was huddling in shop doorways and under bridges down by the canal or the River Aire. That secret part of her life, which Aaron hadn’t known anything about. Not at first. He was under the impression that Karin had answered an advert for a room to rent. Mel had preserved her secret, thankfully, knowing how ashamed Karin was about this aspect of her life. But in the end, Karin had told Aaron herself because there were so many other things she would never be able to share with him and this was one thing she could.
He didn’t even know about Louie.
Karin shifted in the passenger seat as her temperature began to rise. Yet at the same time a chill dug into her skin as the rawness of that winter, after she had run away, returned. A pop-up tent and warm sleeping bag were all that she had wished for on a daily basis. That or some money for a hostel. Apart from her phone, the bundle of letters and the clothes she was wearing, her only possessions had been a hairbrush and a worn-out toothbrush. Karin had left in a hurry, not wanting to make it look like she was leaving at all.
Afraid to go. Afraid of what might happen if she stayed.
It was her dad who always said that her hair was her best feature, so even on the streets she didn’t want it to go into matted dreadlocks, because she knew her dad wouldn’t like that. He was already dead by then, but it still mattered. Brushing her hair obsessively nine or ten times a day would often attract attention. Karin made sure she was drunk and past caring, in case the attention wasn’t the best kind, but she had Will as her protector and he kept her safe.
Whether her mother had realized it or not – more likely an oversight on her part – she had still been paying for Karin’s phone contract back then. However, unless Karin could get into a hostel to charge it up, it had been of limited use and she’d had to guard it with her life. Staring out of the car window at the passing trees, Aaron by her side at the wheel, she could, even now, remember the excitement of seeing all those messages appearing, and how quickly it would turn to guilt.
Always Louie:
Where have you gone? Please come back, let’s talk.
Never anything from her mother.
Karin had carried the bundle of letters stuffed into the waistband of her knickers. She knew it was risky hanging onto them, because they could do real damage in the wrong hands, but without them she had nothing.
She was no one.
Despite having Will, trusted friend and loyal companion, those days on the streets were the loneliest of all. She often wondered, had Birgitta been aware of her living rough, might she have given her the lump sum sooner, instead of making her wait until she turned twenty-two? Unlikely though, knowing her mother. Because the deal was that if Karin didn’t finish her schooling and go to university, the money would be stopped, with no more until today. What little Karin had left from her hotel earnings, she had given to Louie, leaving herself with just enough for the train fare to Leeds, plus a small amount besides until she found her feet again. But Karin had got drunk on the train on the way over, and then she was robbed.
Karin was pretty sure it wouldn’t have made the slightest bit of difference if she had known. Birgitta was a Swedish torpedo. That’s what her dad used to call her. He said that no one could ever stop her or change her direction. He certainly couldn’t, and Karin couldn’t either. Even as a child, Karin wondered why her parents were together; her dad was always hovering and quivering in the background. Without doubt, this sharp-pointed focus was the reason for her mother’s success as a world-class designer, but it torpedoed through everything else. Everyone else.
Karin knew it had been a mistake to start looking at those letters before setting off this evening. She had managed to ignore them until today, despite clinging to them all this time. Her own letters were wound up in that bundle too, of course. It was the bereavement counsellor’s suggestion that they write to each other after her dad died. On paper, and with stamps. So they could think about what they wanted to say to each other, before sending. Safer that way. Better than any text or email fired off in the heat of the moment. Karin had still managed to fire off, even so. And then one day all СКАЧАТЬ