The Marriage Trap: A completely addictive psychological thriller Page 10

  Jason heard the man’s long intake of breath, which didn’t bode well. ‘No need, Jason,’ Paul said eventually. ‘The thing is…’

  Apprehension knotting his stomach, Jason stopped walking.

  ‘There’s been a development,’ Paul went on, sounding apologetic.

  ‘As in?’ Guessing he was about to hear his company’s death knell, Jason held his breath.

  ‘Logic Solutions,’ Paul supplied awkwardly.

  One of his competitors? Jason wondered if he was hearing him right. But they were smaller than he was. Paul had approached them before coming to him. He’d liked their ideas, he’d said, but suspected they hadn’t got the funds to back them up.

  ‘They have a benefactor, apparently,’ Paul enlightened him, as Jason struggled to get his head around it. ‘Someone who’s invested in the company, thereby allowing them to get their program up and running. I’m sorry, Jason, but I can’t afford to delay any longer.’

  Jason felt his gut constrict. ‘Who?’ he asked.

  Again, Paul hesitated. ‘I don’t think the information’s public knowledge yet, Jason. I’m not sure I should—’

  ‘No. Right. No problem.’ Biting back his anger, Jason cut him short. ‘I understand, Paul. Thanks for letting me know.’

  Feeling as if the express train that had slammed into him had reversed to roll over him again, Jason ended the call. He didn’t need confirmation. He already knew who it was: Robert Fenton. And his motive: to make sure that Jason knew he could either walk away with something, as long as he kept his mouth shut, or with nothing.

  SIXTEEN

  JASON

  Rachel stood from her desk as Jason pushed through the door into the main office. ‘Hi, Jase. Do you think I could grab you for—?’

  ‘Can you give me five minutes, Rachel,’ Jason said shortly, and then pulled himself up. The fact that he’d just been crucified by Robert Fenton wasn’t her fault. ‘Sorry. I, er…’ Smiling apologetically, he attempted to get his emotions in some sort of order. ‘Five minutes.’

  Mark looked up from his laptop as Jason walked past his desk. ‘Oh,’ he said warily, obviously noting his dour expression. ‘I take it the meeting didn’t go too well?’

  Answering with a sharp shake of his head, Jason banged through the door into the small office – and then stopped dead.

  Confused as to what she was doing there, and why he hadn’t known she would be, he looked from his laptop to Karla, who’d just shot up from the seat behind his desk as if ejected from it.

  ‘Jason.’ She smiled nervously, obviously alarmed by his arrival, ‘I didn’t expect you back yet.’

  ‘Clearly,’ he said, his gaze going back to his laptop.

  ‘I was just typing up some job applications.’ Her face flushing with embarrassment, Karla moved back towards it.

  But Jason was quicker. His gut told him that, whatever she was doing, it wasn’t filling in job applications. He was across the room in two strides, twisting the laptop around to face him.

  Studying the screen, it took him a second to comprehend fully, and then he laughed in sheer disbelief. ‘Find anything interesting?’ he asked, narrowing his eyes as he looked at her.

  Karla appeared not to know how to answer.

  ‘What are you doing, Karla?’ Jason asked, now working very hard not to lose his temper.

  ‘I was just’ – Karla dropped her gaze to the floor – ‘looking,’ she finished, with an awkward shrug.

  ‘I can see that!’ Jason lost it. ‘What the bloody hell were you looking for?’

  Taken aback, Karla snapped her attention back to him. ‘Nothing,’ she said quickly.

  ‘Right.’ Jason held her gaze. ‘So you were just browsing my internet history out of idle curiosity?’

  ‘Yes. I…’ Karla trailed hopelessly off.

  Fuck it! Jason dragged in a terse breath. He wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but he thought he knew why. Fenton suspected he wouldn’t go quietly. If the man knew nothing else about him, he knew he would never abandon his children. Not ever. He hadn’t yet fully considered the consequences of staying in their lives. The consequences of just up and leaving, though, that he had considered. Jason knew from experience how that might affect them. And he wasn’t about to do it. No matter what.

  ‘Did your father put you up to this?’ he asked, heading around the desk towards her.

  ‘No!’ Karla took a step back. ‘Why would he?’

  Jason scanned her face, his anger mounting. ‘Why?’ he repeated, incredulous. ‘Christ… You really don’t get it, do you, Karla?’

  ‘No, I don’t!’ Karla swiped at a tear spilling down her cheek. ‘I don’t get why you’re so angry just because I’m looking at your bloody laptop! Unless there’s something you don’t want me to see?'

  ‘Like what?’ Jason raked a hand furiously through his hair. ‘For fu— There’s nothing to see! Why the hell would you think there was?'

  ‘I’m leaving,’ Karla said tearfully, walking around him.

  Jason went after her. ‘All this because you found a photograph on my phone that someone sent to me? Were you looking for other evidence of my supposed… what? Browsing the internet for other women? Cheating on you? Is that it? Prompted by your loving father, no doubt, who would just love it if—’

  ‘Yes!’ Karla whirled back around, her sharp blue eyes blazing. ‘And I found it! You bastard!’

  Jason stared at her, incredulous, for a second. Then, ‘Where?’ he asked, feeling suddenly way off kilter.

  ‘Right there.’ Karla nodded at his laptop, her expression one of utter contempt. ‘Scroll further back, Jason. The “evidence” is there, just as I thought it might be. Me!’ She banged a hand against her chest. ‘Not my father. Actually, I’m lying – I didn’t think I would find anything. I imagined that, being such a computer wizard, you would have deleted it.’

  Ignoring the facetiousness of that comment, Jason attempted to pull his scrambled thoughts together. ‘It wasn’t me,’ he said eventually, denying it outright. ‘I haven’t… I wouldn’t—’

  ‘Liar!’ Karla screamed. ‘Do not compound what you’ve done with bullshit, Jason. I am not stupid! Are you going to tell me you haven’t been trawling dating sites? Your online activities are right there!’

  ‘I haven’t been near any bloody dating sites!’ Jason yelled back. ‘This is absolute bollocks. No way—’ He stopped, as the only explanation there was occurred to him. ‘Your father,’ he said, trying to recall. ‘My laptop was in the hall. He said he’d fallen over it. He couldn’t have. It was on the hall table, not—’

  ‘For God’s sake!’ Karla came back towards him and slammed the laptop lid shut. ‘Just stop! This is pathetic. You’re pathetic, trying to blame my father for this! Is he responsible for everything that’s gone wrong in your life?’

  Jason was torn between laughing out loud, given the bombshell the bastard had just dropped, and smashing his fist through the nearest window.

  ‘Your bad business decisions?’ Karla went on, as he struggled with the urge to just spit out what the man had told him and be done with it. ‘Marrying me?’ She searched his face, her eyes full of incomprehension. ‘If you wanted out, Jason, all you had to do was—’

  ‘Whoa!’ Mark intervened from the door. ‘Cool it, you two.’

  ‘Ah, here he is. Our very own dating site Casanova,’ Karla’s tone was thick with sarcasm.

  ‘Not quite,’ Mark said, with a rueful smile. ‘It was me, Karla. Not Jason.’

  Folding her arms, Karla tipped her head to one side, her expression somewhere between amusement and complete disdain.

  ‘I used Jason’s machine while mine was running a software check. I should have said.’ He glanced cautiously at Jason. ‘It was me browsing those sites, Karla, not Jason.’

  SEVENTEEN

  KARLA

  The damp, grey drizzle of the mid-February afternoon seems to be seeping through my coat and into my bones as I stand outside the school, wai
ting for Holly and Josh to come out. I feel so empty, so cold and lonely. A combination of nerves and nausea grips my stomach, as I recall the look on Jason’s face when he walked quietly from his office. He was no longer furious at having found me there, snooping on him. He didn’t say a word, he simply looked at me, his eyes frighteningly void of any emotion. It was as if the shutters had come down. And then he turned and walked away.

  Unsure what to do, I followed him, called out to him. Begged him to stay and talk to me. He wouldn’t even meet my gaze. As he climbed into his car without a word, his body language was that of a defeated man. It was as if all the fight had gone out of him. And that’s down to me. I should never have pushed my father’s proposal. I should have stood by the side of the man I am in love with, have always been in love with, the man I chose to be with, whatever our financial circumstances. Instead, in Jason’s eyes, I have taken my father’s side, against him. My heart plummets icily as I recall how I ranted at him like some demented thing – in front of his employees, for God’s sake. He must have felt so crushed. So alone.

  Did Mark use Jason’s laptop? It’s possible. The truth is, I have no idea what to believe. My heart wants to believe my husband, but my head… Has he been accessing these sites? Have I driven him to look outside our marriage for whatever it is he needs?

  I pull my phone from my pocket and check my messages, hoping Jason will have replied to the one in which I apologised and suggested we go out together to talk properly. There’s nothing.

  He won’t be licking his wounds. Jason’s not like that. I know him. He’s quiet sometimes – when he’s pondering his business problems, mostly – but he doesn’t sit around blaming the world for them. My heart sinks further as I remember that I accused him of doing just that: blaming other people for what’s wrong in his life. Jason doesn’t do that. He blames himself. He takes action to try to fix things. He’s not a sulker. He never gives me the silent treatment. That’s how I know his silence now is significant. And it frightens me.

  Dropping my gaze, I will him to message me, if only to tell me he’s all right. I desperately want to speak to him, to tell him I trust him. I have to, despite my uncertainty. And he has to be able to trust me. I hope he can, after today. Without trust, our marriage will be over anyway.

  ‘Karla, hi,’ someone calls across the playground. ‘Long time no see.’

  I snap my gaze up to see a mother I know waving at me from under her brolly.

  ‘Holly and Josh are still inside,’ she yells, and hurries on through the rain to the gates.

  I haven’t noticed that the drizzle has turned to heavy rain. I haven’t noticed, either, that the exodus of children from the school has dwindled to a straggle. ‘Thanks, Mel,’ I shout back, and hurry in the direction of the building, wondering what’s keeping them.

  Pushing through the doors, I almost walk into Holly’s teacher, who greets me with a flustered smile. ‘Hi, Mrs Connolly,’ she says. ‘Holly said you were picking them up. I was just coming out to find you. We’ve had a bit of an incident, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Incident?’ I repeat, a tingle of apprehension running through me as I follow her down the corridor.

  Miss Thompson stops as we round the corner to the headmistress’s office. Josh is sitting on a chair, his head down and his hands tucked under his thighs. ‘We’ve had a little bit of bullying in class,’ she says, with a sigh. ‘It’s not something we tolerate, obviously, so we’re speaking to the parents of the boy responsible, but…’

  But what? Alarmed, I look away from my vulnerable boy and back to her.

  ‘Holly hit him,’ Miss Thompson informs me, her expression one of correct disapproval, though I see a smidgeon of admiration in her eyes. ‘She was sticking up for her brother, but you’ll understand that we can’t condone it. Could you have a word, do you think?’

  ‘Of course,’ I assure her, swallowing back my heart, which is wedged somewhere in my throat. ‘Can I?’ I nod towards Josh, my emotions in turmoil. I’m angry and mortified for my boy, who’s one of the smallest in his class and seems to get picked on, but also quietly proud of my daughter, who I never imagined would stick up for her little brother like this.

  ‘He’s fine.’ Miss Thompson nods me on. ‘No damage, apart from his glasses.’

  I’m horrified as I realise the implication. ‘His glasses?’

  Miss Thompson clearly understands my panic. ‘Oh no, he wasn’t in an actual fight,’ she reassures me quickly. ‘The boy was calling him names. Josh got upset. He took his glasses off to wipe them and dropped them, and… he stood on them, I’m afraid.’

  Oh God. It had taken ages to get Josh to accept wearing glasses. He’d only fallen in love with them when we’d splashed out for some Harry Potter specs. Now, he would be devastated. My heart aching for him, I go to him, ruffle his hair and crouch down in front of him.

  Josh wipes his arm under his nose and blinks at me through his lopsided glasses. ‘Sorry, Mum,’ he mumbles. ‘I know you’re short of money.’

  Realising my children are much more intuitive and sensitive than I give them credit for, I swallow hard and take hold of his hands. ‘Not that short,’ I assure him. ‘In any case, I reckon the optician will easily be able to fix them.’

  Josh brightens at that. ‘You reckon?’

  ‘I reckon.’ I’m sure can feel my boy’s heartbeat next to mine as he stands to give me a firm hug – something he rarely does anywhere near school now that he’s ‘growing up’ – and I squeeze him a little bit closer before he wriggles away.

  ‘Holly was ace,’ he says enthusiastically. ‘She smacked Nathan Miller right in the mouth.’ Josh quickly stops talking as the headmistress’s door opens and his sister appears.

  Holly’s wearing a scowl. The headmistress is frowning behind her.

  ‘I’ve had a word with Holly about speaking to her teacher or coming to see me before she gives in to the inclination to hit people, Mrs Connolly,’ she says. ‘Do you think you could reinforce that at home?’

  ‘I most certainly will.’ I match her stern frown with one of my own, then take hold of Holly’s hand and offer Josh my other one. ‘I imagine her father will have something to say, too.’

  Holly’s shoulders drop dejectedly at that. She drags her feet all the way back to the exit. ‘Are you going to tell Dad?’ she asks worriedly, once we’re outside.

  ‘Not sure.’ I glance sideways at her. ‘For the record, though, while I don’t want you doing that again – ever – I’m quite proud of you.’

  ‘You are?’ Holly’s eyes spring wide with surprise.

  ‘I am. Make sure to go to your teacher next time, or text me, but yes, I’m proud of you for sticking up for Josh. In fact, I think we’ll pop by Nan’s for a little apple pie and ice cream,’ I say, feeling inspired by Holly’s attitude. ‘It’s not a reward,’ I make sure to add. ‘Just a bit of a treat after a bad day. What do you think?’

  ‘Cool,’ the kids say in unison, and I feel marginally better that they’re healthy and happy, despite the problems between Jason and me.

  Thus my unscheduled visit to Mum’s. I need to talk to her. I really need to talk to my father. I can’t punch him in the mouth for his constant bullying of Jason, but it’s time I start sticking up for my husband.

  I just hope to God I still have one.

  EIGHTEEN

  KARLA

  ‘Good Lord, you’re absolutely drenched.’ Mum looks me over, her eyebrows raised in concern as I let myself through the front door, herding Holly and Josh in before me. ‘What have you been doing, trying to drown yourself?’

  ‘It’s a thought.’ I smile wanly.

  ‘Karla? Everything all right, sweetheart?’ Mum asks worriedly.

  ‘Holly thumped Nathan Miller in the mouth,’ Josh supplies excitedly.

  ‘Did she indeed?’ Mum gives him an unimpressed look.

  ‘But only because he was picking on me,’ Josh adds gravely.

  Mum arches an eyebrow in Holly’s dire
ction. ‘Is this true, Holly?’

  Holly nods, and shrugs guiltily. ‘He made him break his glasses, so…’

  ‘She smacked him in the gob,’ Josh finishes, clearly still awestruck. ‘Pow! She was totally awesome. The headmistress told her off though, so Mum brought us here for some apple pie as a treat.’

  ‘Not a treat, twit!’ Holly rolls her eyes in despair, and then turns her best beguiling gaze towards Mum. ‘Because we’ve had a really bad day.’

  ‘Ah, I see,’ Mum says, as I stand there, dripping rain all over the carpet and willing myself not to cry in front of the children. ‘In which case, you shall have some. But upstairs first. Grab some towels from the airing cupboard and give your hair a good rub. Both of you – go on. And then into the lounge and watch some TV while I talk to your mum.’

  Ushering them in the direction of the stairs, she turns back to me. ‘I take it it’s not Holly hitting some little bully you’re looking devastated about?’ she asks shrewdly.

  Breathing in hard, I shake my head, pull my phone from my pocket, select my texts and hand it to her.

  A frown crossing her face, Mum reads the cryptic text Jason eventually sent in response to mine: Need some space. Don’t wait up for me. About the financial backing, by the way, it’s not happening. Your father way exceeded my expectations.

  That was it. No further contact, and his phone’s been going to voicemail since. I have no idea where he is. How he is. What happened between him and my father. I can only assume he went through Jason’s accounts and turned him down.

  Mum’s frown deepens. ‘Oh no.’ She closes her eyes, a swallow sliding down her throat, then, ‘That bloody man,’ she seethes. ‘What on earth is he up to now?’

  Her eyes are fraught with worry as she looks back at me. ‘I take it you two have argued again?’

  ‘Worse than.’ I avert my gaze, fixing it hard on ceiling, but as hard as I try to stop them, still the tears come. ‘I think he hates me.’