HIDDEN SECRETS

HIDDEN SECRETS

A CRIME/THRILLER

BY CATHERINE LAMBERT

CHAPTER 1

OCTOBER 2005

Kate Preston stared vacantly at the freshly dug grave as tears of overwhelming grief and pain rolled down her cheeks. The dank smell of bare soil was suffocating amongst the scented floral tributes, which exemplified her tragic loss. Alone in the silence her mind drifted to the past.

        This was the same church where she had married her husband Ben on a warm summer’s day, as a concoction of flower blossom and bird song filled the air. No-one could fail to be happy on that perfect day. She could still re-call the immense feeling of pride and importance as she stepped out of the church arm-in arm with her husband, and now the same church that had joined them together, had taken him from her just six short years later. A tear rolled slowly down her cheek stinging her flesh as it fell gently on to her hand, followed by another until she could no longer hold back her grief. Her body shook from the heartache and pain that engulfed her whole being until she could weep no more. Pulling a crumpled tissue from her pocket, she dabbed her swollen eyes as the cold air bit into her exposed hands and face making her shiver. It was time to leave but she couldn’t move; she didn’t want to move. She couldn’t face returning to her empty home that was strewn with Ben’s belongings. Nothing had been touched since he had left on that morning; even his hairbrush was still on the dressing table where he had placed it. His clothes hung in the wardrobe beneath a row of highly polished shoes. She could sense his presence in the room and re-call every detail of his face. When she closed her eyes she could see him smiling at her with his arms folded across his chest. He would assume this position when he had something to tell her, usually a surprise or an unexpected outing. This was the image of Ben she forced herself to remember, because the alternative vision of his lifeless body was too painful to bear. Taking a last look at the grave, Kate bent down and kissed the cross.   

        The sound of breaking glass behind caused her to look up. It was the same sound she had heard four weeks previously. An old man was sweeping up a pile of broken glass in the distance, and she watched as he emptied the remains into a rusty tin container, exaggerating the sound as it fell amid the stillness of the churchyard. Now she remembered how it had begun.

        It was a Thursday morning, September 29th. The date was significant to her as it was the third anniversary of her father’s death. His death had been her first experience of the loss of a close relative and although she was aware of his pending demise, it didn’t take away the enormity of grief she endured when he finally lost his battle with cancer. On that same Thursday morning, she hadn’t gone to work due to a severe migraine which had left her with a dull nagging headache. It was whilst she sipped her morning cup of tea that the sound of breaking glass startled her. It came from the hallway and she proceeded to investigate.  Broken glass was strewn across the carpet and Kate opened the front door in search of the perpetrator, but the street was empty. Feeling intimidated by this mindless act, she picked up the morning post and returned to the kitchen, with the intention of calling her husband. 

        Looking back on the events of that day, she realised her reaction to the broken window had influenced the events that followed. She had no memory of what else was in the post that day, but she could re-call every detail of the photographs she took from the hand-written brown envelope. She had scrutinised the twenty photographs, closely absorbing the details of the young couple gazing into each other’s eyes with increasing curiosity and anger. Each photograph was taken on a sandy beach cocooned between rugged cliffs, as the sun’s rays glistened on the calm ripples of the sea. The woman posing in the photographs was a total stranger; but the man was indisputably her own husband Ben.

        Bringing her thoughts back to the present time and the distressing reality of her husband’s grave before her, Kate wept as Ben’s words of warning tormented her; words she chose to ignore.

THE BEGINNING

Kate was overwhelmed by an unfounded feeling of betrayal as she glared at the image of her husband lovingly embracing another woman, albeit in a photograph. Having convinced herself that it was definitely Ben, she now searched desperately for any discrepancy which could prove otherwise. Finding nothing, she slid the photograph across the table and stood up. Under normal circumstances she would have dismissed the resemblance to Ben, and probably have put the photographs with the rubbish where they belonged, but her trust in her husband was tainted.

        Just a few weeks previously they had returned from a holiday in America and Canada. It had been a holiday of a life-time, where they had visited Niagara Falls and sailed in The Lady of the Mist. She could still feel the spray from the falls, and hear the deafening thunder as the water cascaded past them. For her it was also an attempt to forget about Ben’s brief affair with another woman. It had been a traumatic time for both of them, but Kate had been determined to improve their relationship. She had to admit that by the end of the first week, they had become closer and more intimate. Now she was beginning to doubt her husband again.

        Placing the photographs in front of her on the kitchen table she spread them out so each one was visible and easily comparable to the next. Taking a closer look, she was now confident that the man smiling up at her was unquestionably her husband Ben. His distinct features and the manner in which he tended to turn his head slightly to the left when he was posing for the camera, were undeniably present in the prints, but who had sent them, and why? She was now torn between feelings of uncertainty and resentment towards her husband and a feasible explanation for the resemblance. If he had been involved with another woman, how could he have taken a holiday with her without arousing suspicion? The longest Ben had been away for was for an odd weekend when he travelled to Cardiff on business. Could he have been seeing this woman on the pretext of working? It was possible, but why did he look so different in the photographs?

        Selecting one print that clearly revealed Ben’s facial features, Kate was instantly drawn to his hair-style. Instead of the brushed-back look she was familiar with; his hair fell over his forehead as if caught by a breeze. His over-all demeanour was more laid-back, and the light cotton trousers and bold shirt were definitely out of character. Overall the appearance of the man smiling back at her was unrecognisable as her husband, but given the age of the prints he would have been younger. Distracted by the familiar sound of Ben’s car pulling into the drive, she instinctively looked up. Seconds later, his key turning in the front door lock prompted her to scoop up the photographs and stuff them back into the envelope.

“What’s happened to the window?” he asked staring at the gaping hole.

“I don’t know love; I’m hoping its just kid’s,” she replied vaguely.

“Bloody little vandals I blame the parents, they’ve got no control over their kids these days.”

“Why would someone just randomly throw a brick though our window?” Kate looked up.

“It’s very odd love, but I wouldn’t worry too much about it; we can get it fixed,” he replied.

“It’s not odd Ben, its sick.”
“We live in a sick world love. You should see some of the E-mails I get, on second thoughts maybe not,” he grimaced.

“So you think this is funny?” her face was harsh.

“No of course not, but it’s not worth getting upset about love you’ll get another migraine.”

“Don’t patronise me Ben, it’s scared me.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You don’t think it’s anything to do with your business, do you?” she asked hesitantly.

“Now you’re being ridiculous, it was random, you said it yourself,” he raised his eyebrows.

“Should we phone the police?” she asked.

“And say what? I don’t think they’ll be very interested. It probably is just kids, there’s a gang of them from the Riding Estate who’ve been causing trouble around here for weeks now, and the police haven’t done anything about it. Just forget about it love. Are you feeling any better by-the-way?” he asked changing the subject.

“I was,” she muttered.

“That’s why they do it, little bastards. Just put it out of your mind and enjoy the rest of your day off. I’ll call a glazier when I get back to the office,” he smiled and drew her close, but she pulled away and picked up the brown envelope from the table.

“I don’t suppose you recognise this writing do you?” she wriggled free from his grip.

Ben glanced briefly at it.

“I don’t get hand-written mail love. Look I really don’t have time for this now Kate can we discuss it later?” he asked

“O.k. what are you doing back here anyway?” she asked.

“I left my phone it must still be on the bedside locker.” He turned towards the stairs.

“I need to get in touch with a client, an ex-client I should say. I knew I shouldn’t have left Dan in charge he’s completely incompetent. He’s lost a major contract and I’m left to pick up the pieces,” his voice trailed off as he reached the bedroom, where he found his phone and headed back down to the kitchen.

“Why don’t you sack him then? If you can’t trust him, what’s the point of employing him?”

“Sack who love?” he asked, fiddling with his phone.

“Dan, who do you think; are you even listening to me?”

“I’m trying to find a number I’m sure I saved it,” he replied absentmindedly.

“Put your phone down Ben I want to show you something,” he looked up.

“Take at look at these prints,” Kate slid the envelope across the table.

Ben sat down and took his reading glasses from his pocket. With them perched on the end of his nose, he opened the envelope and removed the photographs. He studied each one with indifference and without making a comment. When he had finished, he looked up at his wife.

“Where did you find them?” he asked bluntly.

“I didn’t find them someone sent them through the post in this envelope,” she threw the crumpled envelope in his direction.

“Oh, I see.” Ben picked up the prints again, and glanced through them.

“This man,” he paused and tapped the photograph, “looks a bit like me, but younger and not quite as handsome,” he smirked.

“What do you mean a bit like you?  It is you,” she replied incredulously.

“Oh don’t be so bloody ridiculous. It’s just a coincidence. Anyway how could I possibly be in someone else’s photographs with a woman I’ve never seen before in my life?” he laughed.

“How do I know you don’t know her, you’ve lied to me before,” she turned away from him.

“Oh you just can’t leave it alone can you?” he shook his head in despair.

“What do you expect me to say?” she turned to face him.

“I don’t really care, whatever I say you won’t believe me.”

“How about the truth then, who is this woman?” she jabbed her finger at the print.

“It must be you, I thought that was obvious,” Ben threw his hands up in the air.

“When have I ever looked that cheap and tarty?” she snarled through gritted teeth.

“Perhaps if you had I wouldn’t have had an affair,” he replied instantly regretting the words the second they left his mouth. “I’m sorry love, I didn’t mean that.”

“Oh I think you did Ben,” Kate narrowed her eyes and glared at him.

“Just go back to work, or whatever it is you do.”

“Kate please I didn’t mean to say that. You know it makes me very angry when you keep banging on about one little mistake.”

“One little mistake is that all it was to you?” she raised her voice.

“Please don’t do this love,” he pleaded. “I don’t know who this woman is, and that man is definitely not me, I swear to you,” he sounded sincere but Kate was not convinced.

“Why are you lying to me Ben?” she studied her husband’s face.

“For God’s sake Kate, what’s wrong with you?” he picked up his car keys and walked towards the front door, with Kate following closely behind clutching the photographs firmly in her hand.