The Woman At The Door Daniel Hurst (online e reader TXT) 📖

evident by how she continues to open up to me even more about her personal problems.

‘I just can’t get the thought of him and that woman out of my head. Do you know what I mean?’ she asks me, and I nod my head.

I know exactly what she means because I spent years with the thought of Rebecca and Sam in my head.

‘I wasn’t going to tell you this but fuck it. Why not?’ Rebecca says, finishing off the rest of her wine and slamming her empty glass down on the table. ‘My husband is so deluded in thinking that he can get out of this that he has hired a private investigator to look into the woman who came to our door.’

Rebecca scoffs and waits for me to laugh or at least show my disapproval. But I don’t do that.

I’m too busy panicking.

‘He’s done what?’

‘He’s hired a PI. God knows what they are supposed to find out, but it’s all a waste of time. Sam can pretend he doesn’t know that woman all he wants, but his game is up.’

I try to keep calm as I process this information, but there is no doubt that it is concerning. Rebecca might think that her husband is just stalling or trying to get off the hook, but I know different. I know that Sam is innocent, and now I know that he has hired a private investigator to prove it.

I need to warn Charlotte. I need to tell her to be careful.

But what if it’s already too late?

‘I’m really sorry, but I’m going to have to go to the little girl’s room,’ I say. ‘This wine is going right through me. I’ll be right back!’

I get up from my seat and scurry away from the table, taking my handbag with me because I need to use the phone inside it.

I take out my mobile as soon as I’m out of Rebecca’s sight and find the number for the woman who I have been paying to break up my best friend’s marriage. Then I dial it, pressing the phone to my ear and trying to keep my breathing under control so I can impart the crucial information that I have just become savvy to.

But there is no answer. Damn it. I’ll have to send a text.

My fingers fly across my phone screen as I type out a warning to Charlotte.

Sam has hired a private investigator to look into you. Be careful!

Then I’m just about to press send before adding one more sentence.

This can not come back to me!

I send the message and wonder what kind of response it will get when it is read. Of course, at that time, I expect it to only be Charlotte who reads it.

I had no idea that the private investigator was going to read it too and pass it on to Sam.

By then, it’s only a matter of time until Rebecca reads it too.

44

REBECCA

I’m feeling the effects of the wine now and should probably slow down, but it’s not every night that I get to unload all my problems onto somebody else. Poor Ally. She came out tonight for some fun, yet I’ve spent most of the evening talking about Sam and what he has been putting me through recently. It’s no wonder she has been a while in the toilets.

She’s probably dreading coming back to the table and being subjected to more of my moaning.

As I wait for my best friend to return, I reach into my handbag and take out my phone, wondering if Sam has made any more attempts to plead his innocence to me since I have been here this evening. If so, I am expecting a message or two, or maybe even a missed call.

What I’m not expecting is to see my screen full of notifications.

Twenty missed calls from Sam and twelve text messages.

What the hell?

I’m just about to open the first of the messages when Ally returns to the table, swaying slightly and looking a little flush in the face.

‘I’m really sorry, but I think I might have to call it a night,’ she tells me as she holds onto the back of her chair for support. ‘I didn’t realise how drunk I was until I stood up.’

‘That’s okay. I think I’ve probably had more than enough too,’ I reply, and I put my phone back into my handbag, figuring I’ll just look at all the messages when I’m in the taxi home.

Based on the sheer volume of notifications from Sam this evening, I can only assume that he has been drinking heavily in some bar of his own and has lost the filter that tells him when to stop bothering me and go to sleep.

Getting up from my chair, I put on my jacket and follow Ally to the bar where we both pay our half of the drinks before stumbling outside into the chilly evening air.

‘I’m sorry to bail out early, but we’ll catch up again very soon, okay?’ Ally tells me, and I smile because she is still worried about me even in her state.

‘That’s fine. Maybe we can go for another walk this weekend?’

‘Sounds good,’ Ally replies as she takes out her phone to presumably try and book a taxi.

I do the same, but before I open the app that will find me a driver in the local area, my curiosity gets the better of me, and I go into the multitude of messages that Sam has sent me.

‘I think Sam’s been drinking tonight,’ I say as I open the message stream. ‘He’s been blowing up my phone with messages and calls.’

‘He has?’

‘Yeah, I’m not sure what he wants but...’

My voice trails off when I read the first message. He tells me that the private investigator has evidence. But it’s the second message that really gets my attention.

It tells me that Ally is behind it all.

‘Is everything okay?’ Ally asks me as she stands beside me, waiting for her taxi to arrive.

But I