The Affair_A gripping psychological thriller with a shocking twist Read online

  The Affair

  A gripping psychological thriller with a shocking twist

  Sheryl Browne

  Also by Sheryl Browne

  The Babysitter

  The Affair

  Contents

  Prologue

  1. JUSTIN

  2. ALICIA

  3. JUSTIN

  4. ALICIA

  5. ALICIA

  6. JUSTIN

  7. SOPHIE

  8. JUSTIN

  9. ALICIA

  10. ALICIA

  11. ALICIA

  12. JUSTIN

  13. JESSICA

  14. ALICIA

  15. JUSTIN

  16. SOPHIE

  17. JUSTIN

  18. JESSICA

  19. JUSTIN

  20. ALICIA

  21. JUSTIN

  22. SOPHIE

  23. ALICIA

  24. SOPHIE

  25. JUSTIN

  26. JESSICA

  27. JUSTIN

  28. SOPHIE

  29. ALICIA

  30. SOPHIE

  31. ALICIA

  32. ALICIA

  33. SOPHIE

  34. JESSICA

  35. SOPHIE

  36. JUSTIN

  37. SOPHIE

  38. ALICIA

  39. ALICIA

  40. SOPHIE

  41. JUSTIN

  42. JUSTIN

  43. ALICIA

  44. JUSTIN

  45. JUSTIN

  46. SOPHIE

  47. JUSTIN

  48. ALICIA

  49. JUSTIN

  50. ALICIA

  51. JUSTIN

  52. ALICIA

  53. JUSTIN

  54. ALICIA

  55. JUSTIN

  56. JESSICA

  57. SOPHIE

  58. ALICIA

  59. ALICIA

  60. JUSTIN

  61. ALICIA

  62. ALICIA

  63. JUSTIN

  64. ALICIA

  65. SOPHIE

  66. JUSTIN

  67. PAUL RADLEY

  68. JUSTIN

  69. PAUL RADLEY

  70. JUSTIN

  71. PAUL RADLEY

  72. ALICIA

  73. JUSTIN

  74. JUSTIN

  75. SOPHIE

  76. ALICIA

  77. ALICIA

  78. ALICIA

  79. JUSTIN

  80. JUSTIN

  The Babysitter

  Also by Sheryl Browne

  Hear more from Sheryl

  A Letter from Sheryl

  Acknowledgements

  For Paul-Jon, who is nestled safe in an angel’s wings.

  To Drew, my son, who is the inspiration behind my next book. I love you.

  Prologue

  I had never imagined what it would be like to hold a life in my hands. Once, I would have been shocked by the realisation that I was an inch away from killing someone. No more. Strangely, I feel nothing, as if I, too, am in a state of limbo, suspended in this moment, somewhere between life and inevitable death.

  We’re fifteen long floors up, the muted throb of the city, lit up at night, reaching me as if from another dimension. The ground below, hard and unforgiving, looms closer for an instant, as if silently urging me to let go.

  Can I? I waver. Am I capable? I’d imagined, in my darkest hours, when dreams only ever came to haunt me, how lost love could drive a person to acts of despair or even madness. How cold-blooded murder might have its basis in love, or unrequited love. In being unloved, spurned or wronged. There is no other way.

  I feel it, the undiluted fear emanating from the individual over whose future I have control. This person is petrified, literally: dissociated, yet aware, unable to speak, move or control their own body. Incapable. Powerless. Mine to do with what I will. We think that we’re immortal, that nothing can touch us, but in reality, we’re fragile creatures. Flesh and blood. On impact, the skull will smash like an eggshell.

  Obliquely, I wonder what thoughts will occur as the body plunges, its downward trajectory stopped suddenly, violently. It’s said a person’s life flashes before their eyes when close to death, because the parts of the brain that store memories are among the last to shut down. Some who’ve had near-death experiences describe a loss of all sense of time – life events that last for a second or a century. They relive moments of sublime happiness and extreme pain, feeling also the pain they’ve caused others around them. I’ve heard it described as close to purgatory. Will this person live a century in purgatory? I hope so.

  One

  JUSTIN

  Pulling wearily into the drive after a double shift on call at the hospital, Justin was relieved to see Alicia hadn’t yet left for work. They rarely argued, preferring to talk things through. They’d come close to arguing last weekend, though, and hadn’t yet resolved the issue. His issue, he’d realised. Justin hadn’t much liked himself for acting like a suspicious prat and obviously upsetting her. He’d been sure he’d heard her crying in the bathroom, and that had gutted him. At the time, given he’d been inwardly fuming, he’d thought he’d been quite restrained. But thinking about it since, no matter how restrained he’d imagined himself to be, the unspoken accusation had been there, and that was bloody unfair. The last time she’d cried heartbroken tears, it had been for him, when his family had been so senselessly murdered. She’d been there unstintingly for him ever since.

  She was there whenever he relived that awful night in his dreams, sweat pooling at the base of his neck and saturating the sheets beneath him. Unable to contact his parents or his sister, he’d gone to their house and let himself in with the key he still had. The first thing he’d noticed was the smashed mirror on the hall wall. Justin closed his eyes, feeling afresh the cold fear that had settled in the pit of his stomach when he’d realised the blood at the epicentre of the fractured glass belonged to his sister. She’d tried to run. Her assailant, not fit to be labelled an animal, had left her bleeding out from her knife wounds on the hall floor.

  He hadn’t been able to cry. He’d been numb, incapable of processing his emotions, unable to reach out to Alicia, until she’d forced him to, holding him like she would never let him go and crying with him. He had no idea what he would have done if she hadn’t been there for him then. They’d not long been married. He’d been so wrapped up in his grief, he’d shut her out. She’d had every reason to walk away, yet she hadn’t. He needed to apologise, end this awkwardness he’d caused between them. Grovel, if necessary. Luke was only six months old, for Christ’s sake. Her sister’s birthday party, which she’d needed some persuading to get dressed up to go to, had been Alicia’s first night out after a complicated caesarean section that had nearly cost her and Luke their lives. What in God’s name had possessed him to end up spoiling it for her?

  ‘Whoops, sorry.’ He found himself apologising prematurely as he opened the front door and narrowly missed hitting her with it.

  ‘My fault.’ Alicia shuffled around from where she was strapping Luke into his carrier. ‘I’m a bit disorganised, as you might have gathered. We’re running late, as per usual.’ Pressing a kiss to Luke’s soft, downy head, she smiled up at him, somewhat guardedly, Justin noted, which made him like himself even less, and then got to her feet.

  ‘There are croissants in the oven. Still warm, just about. Don’t forget to eat,’ she said, heading for the kitchen, and then back-stepping to call up the stairs, ‘Sophie! Clock’s ticking.’

  ‘I’m coming!’ Sophie yelled from her bedroom. ‘Do you want me to go to school naked or what?’


  That would be minus her make-up, Justin gathered. Shaking his head amusedly, he crouched down to say hello to Luke, who jiggled happily and offered him a delighted, gummy smile.

  ‘Pandemonium reigns.’ Justin gave him a conspiratorial smile back. ‘So, how’re you doing, little man, hey? Keeping a low profile, I hope.’ Catching hold of one excitedly flailing hand, he marvelled again at the miracle of their surprise arrival. He was doing well – healthy and strong after a worrying premature birth. His mind drifted to the baby who’d undergone a complicated procedure in the early hours of the morning. Would she be strong enough to survive, he wondered? Admitted with an extradural haemorrhage caused by a head injury, and with no paediatric surgeon available, Justin had had no choice but to drain the blood off, thus reducing cranial pressure, himself. The next twenty-four hours would tell. She was a fighter though. All Justin could do now was pray she didn’t succumb to any infection.

  Reminding himself of all he had to be grateful for, Justin stroked Luke’s peachy cheek in lieu of giving him a cuddle and got to his feet.

  Massaging his aching neck, he turned tiredly to the stairs. His fifteen-year-old daughter was descending, clearly disgruntled about school days that started at such an ungodly hour they didn’t allow time for her morning beauty regime.

  ‘Good morning,’ said Justin, as she stomped past to pick up her schoolbag.

  ‘It’s not. It’s raining.’ Sophie huffed moodily.

  Justin smiled and waited, and sure enough, Sophie back-stepped to plant a kiss on his cheek. ‘Morning, Dad,’ she said, with a sheepish smile. ‘Oh.’ Looking him over, her forehead creased into a concerned frown. ‘Fun night, I take it?’ she enquired, obviously noticing his weariness.

  ‘I’ve had better,’ Justin admitted, and reached to give her shoulders a squeeze. ‘You’d better get a move on or you’ll be getting a black mark.’

  ‘Again.’ Sophie mumbled, hitched her bag over her shoulder and turned to the front door.

  ‘Do you think you could help carry something, Sophie?’ Alicia called after her, emerging from the kitchen, Luke’s juice in one hand, handbag and baby bag in the other. ‘I’m running out of hands.’

  Sighing, Sophie turned back to relieve Alicia of the juice, rolling her eyes as she did.

  Justin gave her a ‘don’t push it’ look, and Sophie looked suitably apologetic. ‘Bye. See you later,’ he said to Alicia, hoping she’d make proper eye contact with him.

  Alicia nodded. Her smile was tremulous, her eye contact brief. Justin inwardly cursed himself again. He really had acted like an idiot, cross-questioning her because some ex-work colleague had made it obvious he was interested in her. He wished they’d had time to talk properly since, but their conflicting schedules hadn’t allowed it. His, mostly. As clinical lead in accident and emergency, his job was demanding – soul-destroying, sometimes – with insane targets to meet. The rewards of helping outweighed the endless bureaucracy and the heartbreak of losing patients, but it took its toll. Double shifts were a killer, meaning their time together suffered.

  He should have made time. He’d been jealous, there were no two ways about it. He’d been furious when this guy, Paul Radley, had tried to get her to dance with him, grabbing her hand and dragging her away from her sister, sliding his arm around her waist – crossing the lines, in Justin’s book. Alicia had pulled away, left him standing on the dance floor, and Radley had looked nonplussed, agitated. Justin had watched him watching Alicia walk away. He’d met him at the bar afterwards and there was something… the way the guy had looked at him – a challenge in his eyes, almost. It had caused Justin to wonder, just for a second, if something had gone on between Alicia and him, possibly because he’d been preoccupied with his own problems around the same time she’d worked with Radley in financial services.

  He’d ring her at work, he decided. Order some flowers to be delivered beforehand. Hope she was available and ask if she fancied having lunch with a sad, jealous bastard. Meanwhile, if he had any hopes of being at his scintillating best, he needed to catch up on some sleep. After a demanding night, he was utterly exhausted. All he wanted to do was crawl into bed. Yawning, he climbed the stairs, tugging off his jacket as he went, and then stopped, as Sophie trudged back through the door.

  Puzzled, Justin turned back. ‘I thought you were late?’

  ‘I am now.’ Sophie sighed, with an obligatory roll of the eyes. ‘Mum’s outside calling the breakdown service. The car won’t start.’

  Two

  ALICIA

  ‘Nope, it’s not going anywhere,’ Justin confirmed. ‘You’re out of petrol.’ He nodded towards the dash and then glanced sympathetically up at Alicia.

  ‘Oh no.’ Alicia sighed inwardly. She’d been so het up when the engine had spluttered and died, she hadn’t even noticed the petrol gauge. Her first job this morning was to arrange urgent accommodation for a young mother whose toddler had been assaulted by the child’s father. She couldn’t let that child down, or let her mother down, who wasn’t much more than a child herself. With more families on their caseloads than they could cope with, there were no other social workers to cover for her. Alicia felt suddenly too close to crying the tears she’d been desperately trying to hold back since she’d realised the grave danger her own family was in, and how much Justin would hurt, her children would hurt, because of her.

  Swallowing hard, she turned to the rear passenger door to start unbuckling Lucas, her precious baby boy. Justin would die to protect him, to protect Sophie. She would. Whatever hold Paul Radley imagined he had over her, she would kill to protect them. All of them, including her husband, who’d done nothing to deserve having the foundations of his life ripped from beneath him. Closing her eyes, she tried to still the image that Justin would see: another man’s breath hot on her neck, his mouth close to her ear, whispering his love for her as he pressed himself into her, assuring her that her husband need never find out. It would destroy him. She wouldn’t allow it. Couldn’t.

  ‘How long before the breakdown service gets here?’ Justin asked, climbing out.

  ‘An hour,’ Alicia said quietly, lifting Lucas out, easing him close to her shoulder and breathing in that special smell that binds baby and mother together forever. ‘Sorry, sweetheart. Mummy’s been a very silly mummy, hasn’t she?’

  Silly and weak, and unforgivably deceitful. Her heart squeezing inside her, Alicia eased back to drink her little miracle man in, marvelling at the perfectness of him, his softly curled eyelashes, his perfect cupid lips.

  ‘I’ll drive you,’ Justin offered. ‘The only alternative is to fetch petrol from the garage and that will probably take just as long.’

  ‘It’s okay, Justin,’ Alicia assured him, noting the dark circles under his eyes. He looked utterly exhausted. His job was demanding enough without her troubles to contend with. Her heart twisted as she thought about what he’d already had to deal with, the awful loss in his life. What he might still have to face, unless she could stop whatever was lurking, ready to twist and weave its insidious way through the fabric of their marriage.

  ‘You’ve been working all night,’ she reminded him, as if he would need reminding. ‘You’re possibly not even safe to drive. I could take your car.’ She glanced towards it. ‘As long as you don’t need it before I get home?’

  ‘I don’t, but…’ Justin looked uncertain. ‘You haven’t driven anything but an automatic for years, Ali. I’m not sure I’d get much sleep, worrying about you having an accident.’

  ‘I’ll be fine. I’ll get the hang of it once I get going.’ Alicia waved away his concerns.

  ‘It’s a forty-minute round trip. I won’t die of sleep deprivation, I promise,’ Justin assured her. ‘I’ll take you. I’m only going to be texting you otherwise.’

  Guilt immediately lodged itself like a hard stone in Alicia’s chest. He would text her. He always did, checking she’d arrived safely. Just wanted to remind you I love you – that was his latest subtle way of enquiring.


  ‘Thanks.’ Alicia glanced away. She couldn’t meet his eyes, just then. How would he cope, if he knew? Losing his family all over again – how would he ever be able to deal with it? He couldn’t find out. Whatever she had to do, she had to make sure he never found out.

  ‘Are you getting in?’ Justin asked her, his head cocked bemusedly to one side as he looked her over, clearly noting her mind was elsewhere.

  ‘Yes, sorry, miles away.’ Alicia turned to the door he’d opened in his own car, quickly strapped Lucas into the carrier that was already there and then hurried around to the front passenger side. ‘Where’s Sophie?’ she asked, climbing in.

  ‘Waiting in the hall rather than get rained on,’ Justin supplied, smiling wryly as he climbed into the driver’s side.