My Darling Read online

  MY DARLING

  Amanda Robson

  Copyright

  Published by AVON

  A Division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

  1 London Bridge Street

  London SE1 9GF

  www.harpercollins.co.uk

  First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Publishers 2020

  Copyright © Amanda Robson 2020

  Cover design by Claire Ward © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2020

  Cover photograph © Ildiko Neer/Trevillion Images (building); Shutterstock.com (figure in window)

  Amanda Robson asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

  A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

  Source ISBN: 9780008291907

  Ebook Edition © August 2020 ISBN: 9780008291914

  Version: 2020-07-08

  Praise for Amanda Robson

  ‘A fabulous rollercoaster of a read – I was obsessed by this book’

  B A Paris, author of Behind Closed Doors

  ‘Fast-moving, compulsive reading’

  Jane Corry, author of My Husband’s Wife

  ‘An addictive, compelling read, full of tension’

  Karen Hamilton, author of The Perfect Girlfriend

  ‘Compelling and thoroughly addictive’

  Katerina Diamond, author of The Teacher

  ‘Characters you will love to hate and an ending that will make your jaw drop’

  Jenny Blackhurst, author of How I Lost You

  ‘A taut thriller full of page-turning suspense’

  Emma Flint, author of Little Deaths

  ‘Expertly injects menace into the domestic’

  Holly Seddon, author of Try Not to Breathe

  ‘No one does toxic relationships quite like Amanda Robson’

  Sam Carrington, author of Bad Sister

  ‘Twisty, taut, vibrant and addictive. The queen of the page-turner’

  Caroline England, author of My Husband’s Lies

  ‘A compelling page-turner on the dark underbelly of marriage, friendship and lust’

  Fiona Cummins, author of Rattle

  ‘Totally addictive and unputdownable’

  Roz Watkins, author of The Devil’s Dice

  ‘Very pacy and twisted’

  Colette McBeth, author of Precious Thing

  ‘What a page-turner! This is one highly addictive novel’

  Wendy Walker, author of All is Not Forgotten

  ‘Thoroughly intriguing, high-quality domestic noir’

  Paul Finch, author of Stalkers

  Dedication

  To my family

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Praise for Amanda Robson

  Dedication

  1. Emma

  2. Jade

  3. Alastair

  4. Jade

  5. Emma

  6. Emma

  7. Alastair

  8. Emma

  9. Alastair

  10. Emma

  11. Jade

  12. Emma

  13. Alastair

  14. Jade

  15. Emma

  16. Alastair

  17. Emma

  18. Jade

  19. Jade

  20. Emma

  21. Jade

  22. Jade

  23. Emma

  24. Alastair

  25. Jade

  26. Emma

  27. Jade

  28. Jade

  29. Emma

  30. Alastair

  31. Emma

  32. Jade

  33. Emma

  34. Alastair

  35. Jade

  36. Emma

  37. Jade

  38. Emma

  39. Jade

  40. Emma

  41. Jade

  42. Jade

  43. Alastair

  44. Emma

  45. Alastair

  46. Jade

  47. Jade

  48. Emma

  49. Alastair

  50. Jade

  51. Emma

  52. Alastair

  53. Alastair

  54. Alastair

  55. Emma

  56. Emma

  57. Jade

  58. Alastair

  59. Alastair

  60. Emma

  61. Alastair

  62. Jade

  63. Alastair

  64. Emma

  65. Alastair

  66. Alastair

  67. Jade

  68. Alastair

  69. Jade

  70. Alastair

  71. Alastair

  72. Emma

  73. Alastair

  74. Alastair

  75. Emma

  76. Alastair

  77. Jade

  78. Emma

  79. Jade

  80. Emma

  81. Alastair

  82. Alastair

  83. Emma

  84. Jade

  85. Alastair

  86. Emma

  87. Emma

  88. Alastair

  89. Emma

  90. Alastair

  91. Jade

  92. Emma

  93. Alastair

  94. Emma

  95. Jade

  96. Alastair

  97. Emma

  98. Alastair

  99. Emma

  100. Alastair

  101. Jade

  102. Alastair

  103. Emma

  104. Alastair

  105. Emma

  106. Alastair

  107. Emma

  108. Jade

  109. Alastair

  110. Emma

  111. Alastair

  112. Emma

  113. Alastair

  114. Emma

  115. Alastair

  116. Alastair

  117. Jade

  118. Alastair

  119. Emma

  120. Alastair

  121. Emma

  122. Alastair

  123. Jade

  124. Alastair

  125. Jade

  126. Alastair

  127. Jade

  128. Alastair

  129. Jade

  130. Alastair

  131. Emma

  132. Alastair

  133. Jade

  134. Emma

  135. Jade

  136. Emma

  137. Alastair

  138. Emma

  139. Alastair

  140. Emma

  141. Alastair

  142. Emma

  143. Jade

  144. Emma

  145. Jade

  146. Emma

  147. Emma

  148. Jade

  149. Emma

  150. Jade

  151. Emma

  152. Jade

  153. Emma

  154. Jade

  155. Emma

  156. Jade

  157. Emma

  158

  159

  160

  161

  Acknowledgements

  Keep Reading …

  About the Author

  Also by Amanda Robson

  About the Publisher

  1

  Emma

  After my last relationship, I was looking for love in all the wrong places. Until I began to use Tinder. Until I found you, Alastair, and swiped right. It’s hard to find the perfect man. Men can be so controlling at times.

  2

  Jade

  We move into our new house, Fairlawns. A large Victorian detached, near the river in Henley-on-Thames. Top-end comfort. Top-end price. Arriving in our Porsche, just as the removal men are entering the house with our walnut dining table, I look up and see a man and a woman standing at the side window of the house next door, staring down at us.

  The woman is seriously tarty. Long blonde hair, bleached, not natural. Smelling of Botox. Not wearing very much clothing. Her short house coat does not leave much to the imagination. Very much your sort of thing, Tomas. Not a woman, but a stereotype. As I watch her looking down on us, I determine you will not get away with it again. Don’t even try it, I tell you with my eyes.

  3

  Alastair

  ‘Spill the beans, what are they like? Save me from getting out of bed,’ you say.

  ‘The man is a serious looker – like Jason Donovan in his prime, with darker hair and darker eyes.’

  ‘I’ll look forward to meeting him then.’

  ‘Watch it, Emma. You know I can’t cope when you admire other men,’ I joke.

  ‘And is there a woman?’

  ‘Yes. Big-boned. Neat-featured.’ I pause and continue staring out of the window. ‘Four removal men. Furniture coming out now. Expensive furniture.’

  ‘How do you kno
w it’s expensive? Can you see the price tag?’

  My stomach tightens, because money is an issue between us. Dentists earn far more than forensic scientists. Especially dentists who have inherited a lot of money. Top career. Expanding your dental practice to inject Botox and facial fillers, it all adds up. Whereas I’m always struggling. A child and a difficult ex-wife to support means any unexpected extra expense is a mountain to climb.

  ‘A walnut dressing table.’

  ‘Brown furniture isn’t as expensive as it used to be.’

  ‘It’s still expensive to me.’ I pause. ‘OK then, what about this? A fancy sofa. Candelabra. A racing bike.’ I press my face against the window. ‘A large box marked “Silver”.’

  ‘You sound as if you’ve got the binoculars out,’ you say, slipping out of bed, pulling your silk dressing gown across your naked shoulders and coming to join me.

  Your cat Casper yowls from the bed. He doesn’t like it when you leave him. He follows you everywhere. Sure enough, seconds later, this special animal who looks like a cross between a baby polar bear and a tiger – stripy face and tail, fur like white candyfloss – leaps off the bed to join you, rubbing his head and body against your ankles. Smiling, you lean down to stroke him. You dote on him. I know he’s some unusual pedigree breed that you insist on not allowing out, but don’t you think that keeping a cat inside is a little cruel, however highly strung and dependent he is?

  You put your hand in mine. I pull you towards me and kiss you. You taste silky. Like strawberries and cream. My erection stirs and I want you again. Even though I know you’re too good for me, every time I have you I want you again.

  4

  Jade

  I walk around our new home. Almost everything is in place after the move. I set out towards the Stereotype’s house, to invite her and her partner over for supper. Time to get to know her. Time to see what I’m dealing with.

  5

  Emma

  Dinner parties have never been my thing; trapped around a table making small talk. But my new neighbour Jade coerced me into accepting her invitation. With a nod of the head. With the solidity of her face. So at 8 p.m. on Friday evening, I find myself standing with you, Alastair, on Jade and Tomas’ doorstep, clutching a bottle of red wine and twelve yellow roses. The door opens. Jade. A big woman. Nearly six foot tall. Short dark hair. The ‘make-up-is-a-sin’ type.

  ‘Do come in,’ she beams.

  We step inside a hallway of mirrors and lights. I hand her the roses and wine.

  ‘You shouldn’t have,’ she says, voice so hard I almost guess she means it.

  She leaves them on a glass dresser as we follow her along the hallway. Through the dining room. The table is laid for supper. Silver mats. Silver goblets. Heavy silver cutlery. A centrepiece of shiny black orchids. We arrive in a large sitting room containing toffee-coloured sofas draped with cowhide, which scream against the period of the house. Why did they choose a Victorian house when they own furniture like this? Jade’s husband is standing by a cocktail bar built of oak, with brass cupboard handles. I’ve only ever seen anything like this in 1970s sitcoms.

  ‘What can I get you?’ Tomas asks. His eyes sparkle at me. ‘We’ve got everything. Beer. Cocktails. Bubbles.’

  ‘Bubbles, please.’

  ‘And you, sir?’ he asks, turning to you.

  ‘Beer please, mate.’

  Jade is standing by Tomas’ side, back straight, hands by her side. She is wearing a simple black cotton shift with a belt. Too plain. Too simple. Clothing suitable for a funeral. Not much fun for a Friday night supper.

  Tomas fixes our drinks and we sit down. Couples together on opposing sofas.

  ‘You look pretty organised. How are you settling in?’ I ask.

  ‘I can’t function if things are out of place. I’m a bit OCD. Aren’t I, darling?’

  Tomas stirs uneasily. ‘Isn’t everybody? No one likes their house to be a mess.’

  ‘Where did you move from?’ you ask.

  ‘Hampton Hill.’

  ‘And what made you choose the Thames Valley?’

  ‘Why do you ask that?’ She leans forward and pushes her eyes into mine. ‘Are we the new neighbours from hell, or something?’

  I shake my head. ‘No. No. I just wondered whether it was a job thing?’

  ‘The job conversation always feels like pulling teeth.’

  ‘That’s an apt thing to say to me, because I’m a dentist,’ I say, trying to keep things light.

  She shrugs. ‘OK. So now, thanks to you, we do the job thing.’

  I stiffen inside. I didn’t mean to offend her. You glance across at me. He puts his beer on the table in front of him, leans back and folds his arms.

  ‘It’s fine with me. I’m a forensic scientist. I’m happy to tell you what I do. What’s wrong with talking about work?’

  ‘It’s good with me, too,’ Tomas smiles. ‘I work in the City, as a hedge fund manager.’

  Jade gives her husband a look, to scold him for joining in.

  Not wanting her to get away with this, ‘What do you do?’ I ask.

  A saccharine smile. ‘Since you’re wanting to judge people by their jobs, why don’t you try to guess?’

  ‘Are you an estate agent?’

  She shakes her head.

  ‘Travel agent perhaps?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Teacher?’

  Her head continues to shake.

  Frustrated by this silly game, ‘Circus acrobat?’ I suggest.

  She laughs. I sigh inside with relief. At least she has a sense of humour. ‘No. I’m retired. But I used to be in forensics too,’ she replies.

  ‘What sort of forensics?’ Alastair asks.

  ‘An academic. Professor of Forensics at the University of West London.’

  ‘So why did you quit?’ he pushes.

  She hesitates. ‘It’s difficult to feel fully involved in crime when you’re based at a university. So distant from the cut and thrust of the police.’

  ‘So why didn’t you move to my side?’

  ‘Too boring and repetitive.’ A slow, strangled smile. ‘In this life nothing is ever perfect.’ There’s a pause. ‘And I would like perfect.’

  ‘Wouldn’t we all,’ Alastair replies. ‘But I have to say, I get a lot of satisfaction from my job.’

  ‘Each to their own.’

  She turns to me. ‘Come on, Emma. Enough small talk. Come and help me with the starter.’

  I stand up and follow her from the room. Out through the dining room, across the hallway. Into a smart, shiny kitchen with white cupboards and a black granite top. A large arrangement of black and white orchids adorning the central station. The type of orchids that look as if they are plastic, but if you squeeze their stems they bleed. She opens the stainless-steel larder fridge, takes out four dishes of prawn cocktail and bangs them onto a tray.

  ‘It’s ready. I don’t need your help, I just wanted an excuse to talk to you in private.’ She leans towards me, across the kitchen counter. ‘I want to warn you that my husband Tomas has a wandering eye.’

  ‘What do you mean? Are you trying to tell me that he’s unfaithful?’

  She sighs. ‘He’d be upset if he knew I was talking about him behind his back.’ She shrugs. ‘But, yes. He has a penchant for having affairs.’

  I stand looking into Jade’s sad face, unsure of what to say.

  She blinks and shifts her weight from side to side. ‘Come on, let’s go back and join the men. Make yourself useful – carry the tray.’

  6

  Emma

  ‘What do you make of our new neighbours?’ I ask you, later that night, as we lie entwined in my king-sized bed.

  ‘Tomas seems all right,’ you reply. ‘But Jade’s a strange one – disparaging about my job. Unenthusiastic about her own.’ You pause. ‘A glass-half-empty type to be wary of.’

  I snuggle up closer. ‘When I was on my own with her in the kitchen, she said Tomas has “a penchant for having affairs”.’

  ‘Strange thing to tell your neighbour the first time you meet.’ You kiss my neck. ‘I reckon she’s a clusterfuck.’

  I giggle. ‘Clusterfuck. I like that. But maybe it’s a bit unfair. Lots of people are glass-half-empty about their jobs.’

  You laugh, ‘But not many people are so disparaging about their husband to a complete stranger.’ You roll away from me and slide into your sleeping position. ‘Living so close to her, I guess you’ll soon find out what she’s like.’

  7

  Alastair

  Driving home from the lab after a boring day. Hanging around in scrubs for too long, waiting for some evidence that required urgent analysis to arrive. So urgent the police hadn’t found time to bag it. By the time it came it was 5 p.m., so I stayed a few extra hours to make a start, but I’ll have to finish off tomorrow. The salary I’m on is not enough to justify pushing the boat out and staying all night. Perhaps I would if they promoted me.