‘Nothing?’ Dina snarls. ‘You prick!’ She turns to me. ‘We’ve been seeing each other for months. He loves me.’ She takes a step closer to him.
‘But you were in Thailand,’ I say stupidly. ‘You told me you couldn’t get home for the wedding.’
Her lip curls. ‘I lied.’ She marches right up to Toby now and shoves at his chest. ‘You said you wouldn’t go through with the wedding! You promised me.’
‘I didn’t. That was when we first met, and I was stupidly seduced by you. But I made it clear that it was over. A mistake. I’m in love with Zoe. I always have been. We should never have—’
‘You bastard!’ Dina starts beating him with her fists. Slowly and ineffectually at first. But then she warms up, pulling at his hair, his clothes, kicking him, yelling and screaming all kinds of profanities.
‘Get off me, Dina! You’re insane!’ He pulls away and takes several steps back towards the desk in front of the bay window.
‘Zoe, do something! Call someone!’
‘I hope she kills you,’ I mutter, shaking and feeling utterly ridiculous and humiliated in my wedding dress. Suddenly, I’m desperate to get out of it. To rip it to shreds and stuff the pieces down my cheating fiancé’s throat.
‘I’m a mistake, am I?’ Dina snatches up an empty coffee cup and lobs it at Toby. He ducks and it misses him, shattering against the window, but she follows it up with the saucer which glances off his chin. She’s searching around for something else to throw and grabs a large heavy-looking glass vase filled with white winter roses.
‘Don’t!’ Toby strides over to where she’s standing in the centre of the room and tries to wrench the vase out of her grip before she can do any serious damage with it. They struggle and I wonder what the hell I’m even doing here. I should leave them to it. Let them kill each other. Today is wrecked. The life I thought I was going to have is over. My world is in tatters. Toby is a cheat. They both betrayed me.
Dina hugs the vase to her chest, refusing to let it go. Toby now has her by the throat. She manages to choke out a few choice swear words before eventually dropping the vase. It shatters on the wooden floor, water pooling around their feet. Winter roses mingling with shards of cut glass. Dina’s face is scarlet, her eyes wide.
I suddenly realise that my wish might be about to come true. He might actually kill her. And no matter how screwed up our relationship is, I don’t actually want my sister to die!
‘Toby, let go.’
His face is contorted with rage, his hands still fixed around her neck.
‘Toby!’ I stumble over to where they stand tussling in the centre of the room, a grim tableaux. ‘Stop it!’ I yell, my shoes crunching over broken glass as I yank at his arm, trying to get him to release his hold on her. He pays me no attention. ‘STOP! You’re going to kill her!’ I can’t break his grip. I need to get help…
Thirty
NOW
The hotel room is endlessly dark. I’m sitting up in bed, a cold sweat dampening my hair, my head pounding, my heart racing with a deep terror that leaves me gasping and gulping for air. Shaking and crying as though I’m still there in Toby’s hotel room ten years ago. As though it was only seconds ago that I was screaming at him to stop what he was doing. Crunching over broken glass. Trying to break his grip from around Dina’s neck.
Toby strangled my sister! I realise my hands are around my own throat and I can barely swallow. I let go and crawl forward on the bed onto my hands and knees, still gasping in shock and disbelief. It wasToby! Not me. I’m not a murderer. It was my husband. He slept with her and then he strangled her. And then I… I married this man. Raised two children with him.
‘No, no, no, no, no.’ I bury my face in the bedclothes and let out a moan. Am I dreaming? Am I in the throes of a nightmare? This surely can’t be real. But it is. I remember it as clearly as if I were there. Everything has been a lie. My wedding day… my husband… my marriage… my sister. All a big fat lie.
Toby. My husband. The man I thought was the love of my life. Who has been by my side through thick and thin. In sickness and in health. He lied to me. Betrayed me. I squeeze my eyes shut. Try to gulp down some air and shut it all out. But this is too huge to ignore. Too devastating. I can hardly take it all in. The memories replay themselves – my sister’s sneering expression and drunken slurs. Toby’s panicked face and then his cold, cruel grip on Dina’s neck.All those lies.
And he’s still lying. Yesterday he told me that I was a killer. Blamed me for my sister’s death and made out that he’d been standing by me all these years, that he’d never been even remotely interested in my sister like that. He made out that it was all her fault. Said he’d been protecting me from the truth, like he was being noble, forgiving me for what I’d done.
I push myself up into a kneeling position on the bed. He must have thanked his lucky stars when he discovered I’d lost my memory. How could he go on to make me believe such a despicable thing about myself? Howcouldhe? Howdarehe! Pretending that he was prepared to stand by my side through all of this. That he’s been such a good and faithful husband. Looking out for me. When all along he’s just been covering his own arse. He had an affair and then he killed her! Is this the man I married?
How can my husband be so far removed from the perfect man I thought he was? I clench my fists, suddenly fuelled with rage. But almost as soon as the anger hits, it ebbs away. My brain is becoming foggy. I need to open the curtains, to open the window and breathe in fresh air. Clear my head. Call the police and tell them what happened. They need to know that my sister was murdered. That my husband is a cold-blooded killer.
But what’s going to happen to me? To my children?
My marriage is over.
With trembling fingers, I fumble on the bedside table for my phone, but I can’t seem to locate it, so I give up, instead finding a bottle of water. I unscrew the cap, bring the bottle to my lips and drain the remaining few sips. But they do little to quench my thirst or clear my head. My mouth is so dry, but there’s no time to waste getting a fresh bottle from the minibar. I need to find my phone.
I try to stand, but my legs are leaden, and my head is so heavy. Is it a hangover, or shock? Am I coming down with something? I don’t understand why I’m feeling so strange and woozy. I lie back on the bed. I’ll stay here for a moment until I feel strong enough to get up. Then I’ll call the police. I just need a few minutes to collect myself, that’s all…
I crack open an eyelid, and then another, allowing my eyes some time to adjust to the darkness. There’s no hint of daylight through the curtains. I must have fallen asleep or passed out. Surely I haven’t slept all day! My head throbs, and my eyelids are heavy. I don’t feel as though I’ve slept at all. I’m tempted to simply close my eyes and give in to sleep once more. It’s the only option that feels acceptable right now.
‘You’re awake.’