Read PICTURES OF YOU: a gripping psychological suspense thriller Online
Authors: Diane M Dickson
Mary had tossed and turned till the sheets were a tangle around her legs and the pillow felt as though it was stuffed with old egg boxes. As the rising sun glinted through the gaps in the curtains she clomped downstairs to make coffee and toast. Breakfast eaten she went for a walk through the quiet Saturday morning streets but the sleeping neighbourhood did little to soothe her nerves and now back in the house she was treading up and down the short hallway.
This had to be done, there was no other choice, but drumming up the courage to lift the phone and dial Jane’s number was proving impossible.
As soon as her head had hit the pillow in the darkness last night the scene in the restaurant had begun to play. A continual reel, each time with the dreadful bitter ending.
It had to be addressed; leaving things as they stood just wasn’t an option. It was now half past eight and probably a reasonable time to phone; she reached out and lifted the handset.
“Hello?” At the sound of her friend’s voice Mary’s mouth dried and all the well-rehearsed words flew like dust in the wind. “Hello?” She must speak or Jane would assume a sales call, hang up the phone and it would be even more difficult to dial a second time. Mary cleared her throat.
“Jane, it’s me. It’s Mary.” She heard nothing.
“Are you there Jane?”
Oh please don’t let her hang up on me, please, please.
She rolled her shoulders trying to ease the tense muscles. Her hand coiled around the banister rail for support, she needed to hold something solid, needed to feel grounded. “Jane, I need to speak to you, I need us to talk. Please.”
“I don’t think that there is anything much to say Mary. I said all I needed to yesterday.”
“Yes, yes, but I would like to explain, I need a chance to make you understand. Please Jane can we meet, or I could come to your house?” By now tears were trickling down her cheeks and her voice quavered.
“No, I don’t want you to come here but I’ll listen to what you have to say now. I don’t think I want to meet you though.”
“Oh, well okay. I just thought that maybe if I explained about him, about Jacob, maybe I could make you understand. You seemed so shocked yesterday and I think I see why, I think so but well, I talked to him last night and…”
“You talked to him; you talked to this kid about me? Well, I would prefer if you didn’t, thank you.”
“No, not about you, well not exclusively. He came over and I was so upset and of course he wanted to know why and so I had to tell him. He didn’t see why you were so shocked and so I thought maybe if we talked about it you could come to feel differently.” She was gabbling, she knew it. She took a breath and slowed her breathing. “I have always valued our friendship Jane, I would hate for this to come between us.”
“You’re a fool Mary, a fool.”
“What?”
“You heard me, you’re an idiot. Come on now, be honest with yourself. This boy is twenty years old and you actually think, you truly believe, that he loves you?”
“Well no, no love hasn’t been mentioned, I mean it’s not like that.”
“So what is it like then, what do you think he’s getting out of it, really? All the young girls there are about these days, all the gorgeous teens and you think that he’d rather have sex with you, a middle aged widow. Oh, come on, be realistic, he’s after something, you mark my words. I bet in a week or two he’ll be wanting to borrow some cash or to move back in, to borrow your car, to get a loan with you as guarantor. You mark my words Mary, he’s after more than just a granny grope.”
“Oh!” As she threw the handset back onto the cradle Mary collapsed in a shuddering heap onto the hall carpet. Rocking back and forth she sobbed, “Oh, how could you, how could you?”
As the minutes passed fury replaced the anguish. There was no room for doubt now, no lingering hope; the friendship with Jane was surely over. No matter what happened she couldn’t consider someone who could make such judgements, utter such hurtful and damning words her friend.
The anger brought her to her feet and she ran up the stairs, slammed into the bathroom and stood under the shower.
Well sod you Jane, you and your small mind and your evil tongue.
She sank into the tub and as the hot water beat down on her head she lowered her face and sobbed.
The shower didn’t calm her fury and so she vented her spleen on eggs and butter, sugar and chocolate, turning out an Anger Gateaux. By the time the kitchen had been cleaned and the dishes put away she felt almost normal. Whenever the conversation with Jane wheedled its way to the front of her brain, and it did – often, she began to fume again. It was the unfairness of it that hurt so much. That Jane would make such terrible judgements about someone she had never met. Now she regretted throwing down the phone, but it was obvious that no matter how long they had spoken she wouldn’t have been able to turn the view around. It was so very venomous and fixed.
Life would be strange and sad without her old friend but it couldn’t be helped. It was time to go and meet Jacob and his crowd and take life a bite at a time and get through this turmoil.
She went to the bedroom and in no time at all the bed and floor were littered with clothes. Slacks, skirts, blouses and jackets. All had been tried on and rejected and now Mary stood in front of the mirror in her underwear, panic in her eyes and best jeans in her hands. The very fact that she had “best” jeans was the thought that was now making her blush. None of the other people there today would have jeans kept for days when it was necessary to look smart but casual, expensive denim that fitted well and had fancy stitching on the back pockets. She was what she was, older, more careful about her appearance and there was no help for it – she had “best” jeans and that was what she would wear.
She pulled on a soft blue sweater and black boots and actually thought the result was okay. She hoped that her look avoided the dreaded “frump” but also steered clear of looking like a lump of mutton trying too hard. In her mind’s eye she formed a picture of the groups of youngsters who had been in the pub on Sundays when she had gone, back in the days of Bill. They had all looked so very much the same, muted colours, lots of grey but they exuded something, a comfort in their own skin that she was longing to find now.
When the message pinged into her phone she hoped that it was that the meet was cancelled and Jacob was on his way to her house but it was a simple text -
The Oak, we are there now. See you soon. J x
She ran down the stairs, picked up her bag and phone and left the house quickly, before there was a chance to think about it. It was a ten minute walk to the pub through bright sun warmed streets and by the time the red roof and whitewashed walls came into view a bilious energy was rumbling in her tummy and her heart fluttered with nerves. She pushed open the door and peered into the gloom. A large group of them sat at a big table in the square bay window. She spotted Jacob and raised a hand. He made his way across the room and took hold of her arm leading her towards the noisy group.
“This is Mary,” A couple of the young men moved closer together so that she could slide in next to the seat Jacob had been using.
“Hi Mary. I’m Steve, I live with Jake.”
“Hi, I’m Gary.” They didn’t shake hands but smiled and nodded at her and then went back to their conversations.
“Hi I’m Judy.” A pretty, long haired girl sandwiched between three others waved at her. “Sandy, Clare, Phil,” and so it went on until they had all acknowledged her arrival. She smiled and nodded at them.
“What do you want to drink?” Jacob had pushed his hand into his pocket to draw out a handful of cash. Mary wasn’t sure what the arrangement would be. Were they all buying their own drinks? Was there a kitty as had been the way when she was young? There was so much to find out and now she felt old and out of place. Jacob leaned close, “We all get our own, that way you don’t have to worry, you can have just what you like. What would you like?”
She glanced at the table, an assortment of glasses littered the wet wood but mostly they were pints of lager. “I’ll have a half of lager please. Is that okay?”
“Yes of course, hey relax, you’re supposed to be having fun.” He stepped away to weave through the crowd at the bar.
Help me
… her every nerve was on high alert, she was out of her depth.
“So, you’re Mary?” She turned towards the voice.
“Yes, I’m erm.”
“You’re his landlady right, well you were. He told us about you, he said you were a great cook. Hey if you ever need another lodger can I move in?”
“Oh, erm I don’t really.”
“It’s okay I’m joking. Well mostly.”
Jacob’s voice came from just behind her, “Hey Steve back off, if anyone’s moving back in it’ll be me, right?”
He placed the glass in amongst the others and sat beside her on the bench giving her arm a reassuring squeeze. She smiled at him and picked up the drink gulping back a third of it. She tried to follow some of the conversations flowing back and forth but coming in late much of it was already out of reach.
The boy who had spoken earlier turned to her again. “So Mary, what do you do?”
“I work at the doctor’s, a receptionist.” It sounded so very dull. Jacob leaned around her, “Steve’s Mum is a nurse, isn’t she Steve?”
“Yeah.”
“His mum, oh right.” He had meant nothing, probably hadn’t even thought about it but with that one statement Jacob had pigeonholed her in the most cruel way.
“Hey Mary, don’t you live near here?” One of the other girls called across the table, “you’re local yes?”
“Well yes.”
“Great so where’s the best place to get Chinese?”
“Oh the Hot Wok I think.”
“No, no that’s wrong. The Silver Palace is much better.”
“Ah but at the Hot Wok you get free wantons.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She grinned back at the interested faces and with that tiny move in the conversation she found herself a part of the whole, just another one in the group and she began to unwind and relax. She turned and looked at Jacob; he was sprawling on the seat totally at ease. Where did such confidence come from, where could she find it? It was beyond her.
Side by side they strolled the quiet suburban streets, “So, did you have a good time?” Jacob turned his head and grinned at her.
“Yes, thank you it was lovely. Your friends are really nice.” It was a lie of course but how could she say anything else? How could she say to him,
No Jacob I felt odd and out of place, I didn’t understand a lot of what they were saying and except for a few minutes now and again I felt as though I were stranded in a land of aliens?
Was it her? Well probably. She had believed herself fairly up to date with current thinking, she knew the new films that came out and, though she wouldn’t wear much of it, was aware of current fashion trends but now realised that it was all superficial. The opinions, beliefs and preferences of his friends were simply from another place. She was sorry to have gone. Now, revealed in cruel starkness, were all the differences between her generation and his. Her heart was sad and she felt very silly, Jane was right, she was a fool.
As they turned into the road where her house stood Jacob reached and took her hand, she let her own fingers lie softly in his. There was the other thing as well nibbling away at the edge of her mind, the collisions of two comments from two different places but heading in a dreadful way towards a nasty conclusion. Jane had shrieked at her that it was only a matter of time before he wanted something from her, something more than the friendship and the passion – money, a loan, to move back into the house. At that time she had smacked the thought aside, of course Jane didn’t know him and anyway if he did ask to come back she would welcome him, would welcome his presence in her private world. Why was it then that as he made the comment, “If anyone is moving back in it’s me”? Did a tiny alarm sound from somewhere deep in her soul? It was unsettling and now ill at ease and unhappy all she wanted to do was sit in the darkening living room alone and quiet and to perhaps sort out some of the confusion.
“So, what do you want to do?” His voice, confident, happy, his step lively and sure were all such a contradiction to her own melancholia it was almost an insult. It wasn’t his fault though, he knew nothing of her turmoil, she mustn’t blame him.
“Oh, I don’t know. I have a casserole in the oven.” As she spoke she remembered the rich chocolate cake made earlier in the throes of her temper. “Oh yes and dessert, I hope you like chocolate.”
“Oh yeah, I love it. My mum makes a brilliant chocolate pudding.” There it was again, the unconscious linking of her to his parent’s generation. It struck her then, in the warm late afternoon that this was not going to work, this dream was ridiculous, this love was hopeless and though she did not believe it to be wrong or forbidden it was impossible.
What was she to do now? She had invited him back to the house, he was expecting food and yes probably sex and she couldn’t, she just couldn’t. As they reached the front door she pulled her bag from her shoulder to look for the key but before she pulled back the zip he had taken a jangling bunch from his pocket and slid the key into the lock. He stepped into the house and pressed the buttons on the alarm. He threw his jacket onto the chair at the bottom of the stairs and walked through to the kitchen. He ran water into the kettle and then pulled open the oven door lifting the lid on the big metal casserole. “Mmmm, that smells great. I’m starving.”
A tiny nub of irritation joined the other negative emotions and suddenly it was all too much. “Look Jacob, I don’t feel all that well to be honest.” He turned to look at her, his head cocked to one side, puzzlement creasing his forehead. “Would you mind if I just went up to bed? My head is pounding and I just don’t think I can face food right now.”
“Oh, you poor thing. Hey let me get you an aspirin.” He took a glass and began to run water into it. “Let’s get you up to bed.” He handed her the bottle of pain killers that she kept in the kitchen cabinet and then wrapping his arm around her shoulders he ushered her towards the staircase.
“I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t worry, you can’t help it.”
“Look, why don’t you take that casserole and the cake and share them with your friends, back at your house?”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. I’ll tell you what, I think I should stay, don’t you? If you’re not feeling very well you shouldn’t be on your own.”
“I’ll be fine. It’s only a headache really.”
“No, I’ll stay. I don’t have lectures until tomorrow afternoon, I’ll stay. I’ll save you some of the casserole, will it be okay if I cut the cake though?” This is not what she wanted, she wanted peace, solitude, her head didn’t really ache but her heart did and she needed time to soothe it and to clear her thinking.
“I think really Jacob I would like to be on my own, I just want to sleep.”
“Yeah, well I…” He looked into her eyes. “Oh, you’re saying you want me to go?”
She couldn’t speak but gave a twitch of her head. “Oh right. Fine. Okay then.” He looked so very hurt, puzzled, and there at the back of his eyes did she see a flash of anger? No, no it was just the change in plan that had caught him unprepared.
“Right. Well, I hope you feel better soon.” He bent and pecked her on the cheek as he reached for his jacket and stepped past her towards the door.