Obsession: The bestselling psychological thriller with a shocking ending. Amanda Robson

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СКАЧАТЬ to shout; staring at me too intensely, knitting his brows together.

      ‘Carly,’ he said, ‘I know you’re finding this stage difficult.’

      ‘Don’t you?’ I asked, standing with my hands on my hips, my arms and legs wide apart. ‘Don’t you find it difficult, Rob?’

      ‘Demanding. Not difficult.’

      ‘What’s the difference? You’re getting pedantic enough to become a lawyer.’

      ‘Maybe. In another life.’

      He snapped the dishwasher shut and it started churning water. He challenged me with his eyes.

      ‘What would you do, in another life?’ he asked.

      ‘I don’t even know what I want to do in this one.’

      ‘Nihilistic,’ he muttered.

      I looked at him standing in front of me, face laced with a frown, forehead a river bed of wrinkles, and missed him. Missed the man who would have laughed and dragged me to the pub, words like nihilistic never even thought of, dead on his breath before they became real.

      ‘I’m not perfect enough for you, am I?’ I heard myself shout, hard-edged and strident, tears peppering my eyes. I blinked to push them back. He took me in his arms.

      ‘Carly, none of us are perfect. You’re as perfect as it gets.’

      My body stiffened against his. ‘I know that’s not what you think.’

      ‘Come on, Carly, leave it, I was only trying to help.’

      ‘And how exactly do you think criticising me helps?’

      My stomach knots as I remember. Rob’s face contorts in my mind and becomes Craig’s. Craig’s face with its slightly suppressed aura of irresponsibility. Perhaps that’s why I am pulled towards him right now. Responsibility is killing me.

      I sit in the car, noise sliding around me, and close my eyes. I am undressing Craig, moving my hands across his torso, down, down towards his jeans. I squeeze my thighs together.

      How long have I wanted to have sex with him? For as long as I can remember? Or for as long as Rob has wanted Jenni?

      I am back thinking of the first time I saw his almost naked body. In a swimming pool at Center Parcs. A child-centred weekend, several years ago. He was wearing white Aussiebum swimming shorts.

      ‘Mummy, are you all right?’ Pippa squeals, shaking me by the shoulders. I open my eyes. ‘Are you going to take the boys out of the car, or do you want me to?’

      She is leaning through the gap between the front seats and unbuckling them for me. I watch her and wonder what it is like to be her age. Loving life without sex, drugs or alcohol. Getting high on sweets, fizzy drinks and simplicity. If only I could go back to a time when strawberry laces would have satisfied me.

      Craig answers the door, bare chested, a damp towel draped around his midriff. His body is not as toned as it used to be; fat nestles self-indulgently on his belly. But then, I’d like to try some self-indulgence right now. His boys run into their house, past his legs, through the hallway into the sitting room.

      ‘Sorry. Had to clean up after a shout.’

      Fireman’s speak for being called out. Craig the hero. I raise my eyes from his torso and hold his gaze.

      It’s been so long since I flirted with anyone. Bitch-whore Jenni, is this how it’s done?

       ~ Craig ~

      I pad to the front door, still wet, water puddling around my feet, tracing my passage across Amtico flooring. I open the door and Carly is standing in front of me. My boys run past me into the house. Always running, hurtling towards the next thing; this evening it’s a Spiderman cartoon. They disappear into the sitting room.

      By Jenni’s standards, Carly is wearing too much make-up, but I like it. It suits her. She is bright.

      Carly Burton bright. Stage bright, with her red shoes, red lipstick and lemon-bleached fifties hairstyle. She smiles, a Hollywood smile so wide she might swallow me. I step back a little and look down at her well-toned legs, her pointed knees. The sort of knees they use on Jimmy Choo photoshoots. And then I blush. I look up, away from her pussy pelmet skirt to find her saucer-like blue eyes watching me.

      ‘Thanks, Carly,’ I say. ‘Thank you so much. I owe you big time. One day I’ll make it up to you. I’ll pay you back.’

      She puts her hand on my shoulder. It burns into me. I smell her breath as she leans towards me. Mint and vanilla. Strong enough to get high on.

      ‘Sooner rather than later, please,’ she says, tracing her index finger across my right cheek.

      I catch her hand in mine.

      ‘What are you playing at, Carly?’ I ask as quietly as possible; I do not want the children to hear this.

       ~ Carly ~

      Rob is away. Jenni is away. The children are all at my house for a blast – as much fun as it is possible for young people to have. I have taken them to Snakes and Ladders again. I hope they don’t get fed up of it. I can’t cope with looking after so many children if I have to do anything more strenuous. I’ve taken them to McDonalds, too. I have let them choose a bag of sweets each at the sweet shop on Church Street, the old-fashioned one with a bow window, black and white floor tiles and rows of jars containing everything from aniseed balls to toffee bon-bons. Now they are wide-eyed with exhaustion, ready for bed, sitting in a row on our sofa watching a weird cartoon, a cross between Pokémon and Frozen. If Jenni knew about the sugar they’ve eaten I know she wouldn’t approve. Her nose would wriggle in that strange way I used to think was cute. I am sick of the bitch-whore’s tricks – wriggling her nose like Samantha in Bewitched.

      I open a bottle of wine while the children watch the end of the cartoon. Just one glass before Craig arrives. It slips down so quickly; I can’t have poured as much as I thought, so I top it up. Melon and blackcurrant. Perhaps a hint of raspberry. As soon as the cartoon is over, I snap off the TV. I stand up and try and look jovial, smiling like one of those inane CBeebies presenters.

      ‘Race time. Upstairs and into bed. The winner gets a surprise tomorrow.’

      And so they hurtle past me, squealing and shoving. I have to intervene as Luke is almost pushed down the stairs. Pippa is the winner. Matt and John whinge. Mark and Luke don’t complain; they have been well trained by Jenni. They clean their teeth and snuggle into bed like a pair of little angels. As soon as I’ve got them all settled, the doorbell rings.

      Craig.

      He is here. Stepping into my hallway, handing me a bottle of Merlot and a bunch of pink carnations. He plants a kiss on each of my cheeks, irradiating me with the scent of his aftershave. I thank him and he follows me СКАЧАТЬ