Хилари Боннер - A Deep Deceit

Then I heard a knock on the front door.

I had promised Mariette faithfully that whatever happened I would never repeat my performance of locking myself in the house and ignoring callers. So dutifully I clambered up the ladder, switched off my torch and put it on the kitchen worktop, shouting ‘just a minute’. I shut the kitchen door firmly behind me and hurried to open the front door.

Will Jones stood on the doorstep smiling broadly. He was carrying a large bunch of roses. ‘Welcome home,’ he said and thrust the flowers into my hand.

I smiled my appreciation. I knew that Will had enquired regularly after my welfare during the time that I had stayed with Mariette, and that she had relayed to him my thanks and explained that I really did not want to see anyone for a bit. I simply hadn’t been able to face visitors. I still didn’t exactly relish the prospect, but Will just might have another of those welcome brown envelopes on his person. ‘I was just thinking about you, Will, come on in,’ I invited. Well, it was true in a way, albeit not quite the way he seemed to take it.

His face positively lit up. ‘I thought you could do with a man about the place.’ He beamed at me. It seemed a very strange thing to say in the circumstances.

I couldn’t think of any reply, really. He followed me into the dining room and I gestured to the paintings all around us. ‘I was hoping you might be able to find a place for a couple of these, and bend the rules a bit about payment,’ I said. ‘I could certainly do with the money...’

Will didn’t even glance at the paintings. He just stood there in the middle of the room staring at me. ‘You look prettier than ever,’ he said.

I glanced at him curiously. ‘Go on upstairs and I’ll bring up some coffee,’ I instructed, slightly thrown by his rather bizarre compliment.

In the kitchen I didn’t bother to put the stone back over the cellar. Will would have heard me and wanted to help, and Carl and I had always been strict about keeping our hiding place a secret. In any case I was fairly used to dodging around it, and I quickly made coffee and carried a tray upstairs to join Will.

He was as avuncular as ever, but I had even more difficulty than usual making small talk.

I sat on the sofa next to him and found myself noticing how often he touched me as we chatted. He’d always done so, of course, but it hadn’t seemed to matter when Carl was around.

Suddenly he leaned very close to me and put his arm round me. He had often done that before too, but I instinctively knew that this time was different. ‘You miss Carl, Suzanne, don’t you?’

‘Yes,’ I responded truthfully.

‘The two of you were so perfect together.’ There was something in Will’s voice that I couldn’t quite identify, something not very pleasant.

I studied him more closely, perhaps seeing him for the first time, this man I had both liked and trusted. I suppose I had never really looked beyond the flamboyant exterior before, never seen beyond the showman. His silver bouffant hairdo no longer looked attractively eccentric – just rather pathetic. He had always been a kind of parody of himself. His eyes were red-rimmed. He was definitely under some sort of strain.

‘You never did understand,’ he went on. ‘That was the problem. And I could never tell you... never find the words, you see...’

He pulled me even nearer to him and I realised suddenly that his hand had dropped down so that he was lightly stroking my breast. Curiously, perhaps, it was still the last thing I had anticipated.

‘You miss Carl in every way, I expect...’

His voice was very low. Suggestive.

I wrenched myself away from him and stood up. ‘Don’t be silly, Will,’ I said, trying hard not to make too much of it.

But I had said the wrong thing. There was anger in his voice when he spoke again. ‘Don’t be silly, Will,’ he repeated, his voice mocking mine. ‘That’s how you think of me, that’s how you’ve both always thought of me, isn’t it? Silly Willy, we can treat him how we like, he’ll still come running, still knock himself out trying to flog Carl’s bloody awful paintings.’

I was stunned by his sudden outburst. He was speaking in a kind of bitter whine. ‘What on earth’s the matter with you, Will?’ I asked. ‘You’ve always admired Carl’s painting, haven’t you? And I thought we were friends.’

‘Pah,’ snarled Will. ‘He’s no better than any of the others, just very very average. But he had you, didn’t he? And together you were...’ his voice softened ‘... so special.’

Was that it then? Will was jealous of Carl and me? I couldn’t believe my ears. It had never occurred to me. Not to either of us.

‘I was your friend all right, oh yes, I was such a good friend,’ he went on. ‘But you two, you barely noticed me, did you? If it didn’t suit you, you turned me away. Remember the night I brought you the pink champagne? It made no difference, did it? I could have brought diamonds. You two wanted to be alone together. Nothing else mattered. You just turned me away...’

He paused. I didn’t speak. Merely calling him silly had brought on this outburst? All sorts of jumbled thoughts were beginning to occur to me.

Meanwhile the tirade continued. It was as if, once he had started, he couldn’t stop. ‘You never took me seriously, did you? You had no idea about my feelings. Not either of you. And you, Suzanne, you’re so soft and lovely, I always liked so much just to touch you...’

I shivered, thinking of how often he had done that. But in such a way that I had never really minded and neither had Carl. He was quite an actor, was Will, but then, we had always thought that.

‘I knew there was no hope, of course, there was only ever Carl for you. So I was prepared to accept that. Just to be near you. I tried to tell you how it was, I really did. I was prepared to settle for friendship. But you kept shutting me out, didn’t you? Both of you. Making a joke of my feelings. It was so unfair...’

His voice was wheedling and yet very hard. He really was beginning to scare me.

Sometimes things are suddenly very clear and you wonder how you missed them before. How could Carl and I have been so blind? But then, we had always been so totally wrapped up in each other. Will was right about that.

I thought of the time he had come to dinner and told us how he envied us, how we had so much, how he would have swapped his gallery, his car, everything he had for what we had. And yes, Carl had made a joke of it, as he usually did. How Will must have hated that. ‘Why are you telling me all this?’ I asked.

‘I thought you might have known already.’

I had known nothing. But I was beginning to realise a lot. I had a feeling I had made an awful error of judgement, that I had got something horribly wrong.

I took a deep breath. ‘Did you threaten us, did you send the letters, Will?’ I asked. I spoke very softly, trying to keep my voice expressionless.

He looked for a moment as if he were going to deny it. Then he turned on me. ‘Of course I did,’ he shouted. ‘And you never suspected for a bloody moment, did you. Not Silly Willy, whom you could treat like dirt and I’d still ask for more.’ He laughed. It was not a pretty sound.

‘Why, for Christ’s sake?’ I asked, really scared now. ‘Why did you do it?’

‘I’ve just told you,’ he said. ‘It was the way you treated me, both of you. And if I couldn’t have you I was going to hurt you, Suzanne, you and him. I wanted to give that perfect...’ he spat out the word then continued ‘... that perfect life of yours a shaking.’

‘You tortured us,’ I yelled at him. ‘We did nothing to deserve that.’

‘I was the one who was tortured.’