Her One Mistake(49)

But withdrawing had made the thought of the social even more terrifying. I was only going because of Audrey’s insistence and my desire not to let her down after everything she’d done.

“I thought you said it was starting five minutes ago,” Tom said, tapping his watch. “It’s already eight fifty.” He found me rummaging through the children’s schoolbags. I’d already laid out their uniforms and washed up the water bottles—jobs I’d usually leave till morning. “Just go,” he said, practically pushing me out the door.

“When did the light stop working?” I muttered when the outside lamp didn’t automatically come on.

“I’ll have a look at it,” Tom said, peering up before sighing. “Oh, I can hear Evie. I thought you said she was asleep. I’ll see you later.” He closed the door behind him, leaving me standing in the semidark walkway. As I walked toward my car a flicker of movement stopped me in my tracks, and Brian’s face suddenly appeared above the corner of the bushes lining the walk.

“Brian, you made me jump,” I said, wondering how long he’d been watching me. “Do you, erm, want to come in?”

“No,” he said coldly. “I want you to come to my car.” When I didn’t move he added, “I don’t think you have the luxury of refusing me, do you?”

I jangled my keys nervously, looking up at the house, hoping that Tom might be looking out, but there was no sign of him. Reluctantly I nodded and followed Brian to the silver Honda parked a few houses up. He held the passenger door open, and as I climbed in the smell of dead fish wafted from the trunk and into my nostrils.

Our cul-de-sac was quiet and eerily still. The click of the car doors locking was loud and sharp in the silence as Brian twisted to face me.

His mouth twitched at the corners and, tilting his head to one side, he spoke slowly. “Tell me what you know.”

“What I know about what?” I asked.

“Tell me what you know about my wife.”

I fidgeted uneasily. “Why are we talking about Harriet?”

“I do everything for her. She’s my world,” he continued. “I always have. But she doesn’t treat me the same, though I assume you know that. She must tell you everything.”

“No, actually, Harriet doesn’t say anything to me,” I said.

“It breaks me. She breaks me. Do you know that? Of course you do. You’re her best friend.” He laughed. “Despite what you say, you must know everything.”

Brian’s behavior was as disturbing as his appearance. His hair stuck out wildly in different directions, as if he’d grabbed it with both hands and ruffled it vigorously. His eyes were dark and heavy as they bored into me. I’d never seen Brian anything less than pristine and, despite the situation, I knew something else was wrong.

“Did she tell you she doesn’t love me?” he went on.

I shuffled forward uncomfortably in my seat. “Harriet loves you,” I said. As much as I didn’t want to confront his anger about Alice, I still thought it would be preferable to whatever this was about. “Whatever is happening right now, you can’t start doubting that.”

“I know you were close, Charlotte. Why else would you tell her about losing your son?”

“What?”

“Make a habit of it, don’t you? Losing children. Almost like it comes easy to you.”

“Brian—” The air in the car was getting unbearably stale. “Can I open the door? Or even just the window?”

Brian ignored me as he slammed the palm of his hand against the steering wheel and turned to stare out the windshield. “Mothers like you should pay for what you do. But you don’t,” he carried on. “You never do.”

“I need to go,” I said, my voice shaking. “I want you to unlock the door now, Brian.”

“I’ll make sure they write stories about you,” he said. “I’ll make sure it’s out there.”

I wondered if I should scream, and whether anyone would hear me if I did. The air was getting closer and I could feel my lungs working harder, yet the only thing stopping me from hammering on the window was the thought that this was nothing less than I deserved.

“Tell me what she’s told you!” he yelled.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” I pleaded. Harriet had never uttered a word against her husband. “Harriet’s only ever had good things to say about you—”

“You know I’ve always liked you, Charlotte,” he said, his words suddenly sounding lighter and softer as he arched forward. “Of course I’m glad she has you as a friend, but I need you to be honest with me.”

“Brian, what are you talking about?”

“I’m sure you can make her see sense,” he said. “I need to go now.”

“Brian, I don’t understand what you’re—” I stopped as he stretched across me to open the door, giving it a shove so it swung open.

“I’m sure you do, Charlotte,” he said. “I’m positive you understand very well what I’m talking about. Now please get out of my car.”

I stared at him incredulously as I backed out of the car. He pulled the door shut behind me, started the engine, and hastily drove away. All thoughts of the school social had vanished. It was with relief that I made my way back to the house.