The End of Her - Shari Lapena Page 0,5

He turns back to the coffee machine, goes through the motions of adding milk and sugar to his cup, and notices that his hands are trembling.

What is Erica Voss doing in Aylesford? Last he knew, she was living in Denver.

He decides to go home early. He leaves the coffee on the table, grabs his briefcase from his office and leaves.

Stephanie wakes from a profound sleep to the sound of the front door opening. For a moment she’s disoriented. She looks at the clock on the bedside table: it’s not even 4.30 p.m. She sits up quickly, listening. The room is dark, the curtains pulled across the window. She can hear someone moving around downstairs. She glances at the baby monitor; the lights aren’t flashing, and the babies are still asleep.

She gets out of bed, a bit dizzy at rising so quickly, a combination of fatigue and low blood pressure. She walks quietly down the hall to the top of the stairs. She sees Patrick at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at her. She can’t tell what it is exactly, but something about him seems different. Maybe it’s just that he’s home uncharacteristically early.

‘Did I wake you? I was hoping I wouldn’t,’ he says softly.

‘What happened?’ she asks as she walks down the stairs.

‘Nothing happened,’ he answers. ‘I just left early today, that’s all. I’m beat.’

‘Tell me about it,’ she says, reaching him and giving him a warm hug and a kiss. ‘How did the meeting go?’ He frowns, shrugs, and she feels a twinge of sympathy.

‘Not great,’ he admits.

She knows that he’s been struggling lately. He hasn’t kept that from her. He’s always told her what’s going on at work. She doesn’t like to be kept in the dark; she wants to know everything.

She’s concerned for him – for an architect, mistakes can be costly. He has so many details to stay on top of, and with so little sleep … She tells herself that they just have to ride this out. The babies will start to sleep, and they will both sleep, too, and be able to cope better.

She looks at him more closely. Now she can see what’s different about him; he’s clenching his jaw as if he’s worried about something. He looks exhausted, like her, but there’s a nervous energy running along underneath that isn’t usually there. ‘What is it? You seem a bit tense,’ she says lightly.

‘Do I?’ he says. ‘No, I’m not tense. Just – I was a bit off in the meeting today. Didn’t bring my usual energy to it. I don’t think they were too impressed.’ He shrugs. ‘Maybe I should have told them I’ve got colicky twins at home.’ Now there’s an edge to his voice and she feels her back go up a bit. It sounds almost like he’s blaming her. She tries not to react. Takes a deep breath.

‘Look,’ she says after a moment, ‘neither of us is functioning at our best right now. We’re exhausted. That’s just the way it is. But we’ll get through it.’ She puts her hands up and rests them on his shoulders, looks right into his tired eyes. ‘Things will get better.’ She remembers how, a couple of nights ago, he’d had to say much the same thing to her. They have to help each other, prop each other up. That’s what they’ve been doing through these long, difficult weeks of colic. He nods back at her, gives her that smile she loves.

Then he kisses her and says, ‘I know.’

‘Why don’t you lie down on the sofa and close your eyes for a bit? I’m going to get started on supper before they wake up.’

She goes into the kitchen, working quickly, because the babies will be up soon. When she glances into the living room a few minutes later, expecting to find her husband fast asleep, she sees that he’s wide awake, staring at the ceiling. Then she hears a cry, and steels herself for the long, gruelling night ahead.

CHAPTER FOUR

THE NEXT MORNING when he gets to the office, Patrick opens his email, runs his eyes down his messages and stops cold. There’s one from Erica Voss. His finger hovers over the mouse. He considers deleting the email unread, but that might be unwise. He clicks it open.

Hi Patrick,

I imagine it was a surprise, seeing me again. I was wondering if we could get together and talk, for old times’ sake? Maybe for a drink?

Best, Erica

It seems harmless, but he feels uneasy.