Please Release Me (19 page)

The bitch was holding Peter’s hand. Sally’s world thrummed with anger. So this is what they got up to when they thought she couldn’t see them. If she hadn’t managed to dislodge those papers, she wouldn’t have been any the wiser.

Grace dropped Peter’s hand and spun round, her face red with guilt. Peter was looking around wildly.

‘You wait until my back is turned and you seduce my husband? You husband stealing bitch.’

Grace started to speak. ‘Sally, it’s not what—’

‘Not what it looks like? Don’t lie to me, I saw you. Holding hands.’

‘Is she here?’ said Peter. ‘Where?’ He squinted vaguely at the place where she was standing.

Grace gestured. Peter frowned as though he would be able to see her, just by concentrating. Moron.

‘I thought you were my friend!’ To Sally’s surprise, that actually hurt. Until the words left her mouth, she hadn’t realised that Grace was her friend. Someone to chat to and watch TV with. She hadn’t had that sort of friend in … well, ever. Somehow, that made it all a hundred times worse. No wonder she’d stayed away from female friends before. ‘You back-stabbing bitch.’

Grace put her hands up in front of her. ‘Sally, calm down. Let me explain.’ Her voice was low and her movements were understated, as though she were trying to avoid drawing attention to them.

Oh no. There was no way she was letting Grace get away with this. No way. Pain and fury boiled up inside Sally. She could almost feel the heat against her skin now. She looked around her and spotted a small statue in an alcove next to her. Acting on instinct, she lunged at it. To her surprise it moved easily. She picked it up and spun on her heel back to Grace. She’d teach her to move onto HER Peter. ‘Explain?’ she screeched. ‘Explain this!’

Peter moved before the statue left her hands. It flew across the short space. Grace’s eyes widened. There was a shout. And Peter was there, throwing himself in front of Grace. The statue connected with the side of his head. Momentum carried him onward and his head crashed into the balcony wall. He slid to the ground, eyes closed, blood oozing from his head.

‘Peter!’ Both Sally and Grace were at his side. Grace knelt beside him and put a hand under his neck.

The anger was suddenly quenched by fear. Sally fell to her knees on the other side of Peter.

‘Peter, talk to me,’ said Grace. Her voice quavered.

‘Peter. My darling. What have I done to you? I didn’t mean to,’ said Sally.

Peter’s eyes opened. He was looking straight through Sally.

‘Peter, Peter, darling. Are you okay?’ Sally thrust her hands to his face. His eyes suddenly focused and she knew he could see her. For a brief moment they stared at each other. Then a shudder ran through the length of his body and his eyes closed again.

‘Get away from him,’ Grace hissed. ‘Haven’t you done enough?’

Sally staggered backwards, through a man who was coming to help. For months she’d been wanting Peter to look at her again. Now she wished he hadn’t.

Peter woke up with a splitting headache. He lay there with his eyes shut. He could hear Grace’s voice and other, male voices. No Sally. He was warm. So, definitely no Sally. In his mind, he pieced together what had happened. The last thing he’d seen was Sally, her hair all golden and her wedding veil billowing around her. It was over a year since he’d seen her. He’d looked into her wide open blue eyes and seen anger and malice and deception. There had been only one thing he’d wanted to ask her. ‘What are you doing here?’

He knew the casino had opened after Sally started going to GA meetings. He knew because he’d carefully shredded the invitation to the grand opening before Sally saw it. He’d thought it unfair to put such temptation in her path. Grace had told him that Sally could only go to places that she’d been to before. So the only way Sally could have arrived at the casino was if she’d been there before. After she’d promised not to gamble again. Either he was missing something. Or she’d lied to him. Again.

He thought back to the evenings when he’d dropped her off at doors of the meeting hall. She’d always waved him off and set off to go inside. She always insisted on getting home by herself. He hadn’t thought anything of it then, but what if she’d never really gone in? What if she’d come here to gamble instead. He knew now that was what had happened. He’d trusted her, but she’d shown him, over and over, that she couldn’t be trusted.

What else had she lied to him about? He’d been right to try to throw away that blasted lottery ticket. ‘Don’t you trust me?’ she’d asked. Now he knew the correct answer was no. Somehow that made him feel less guilty. Not totally, but just a little.

He had been so in love with Sally and now he felt … pity. Sadness. A sense of his life wasted. If all this hadn’t happened, would he still be married to Sally? Perhaps, if he hadn’t found out. But then, his whole life with her had been a lie. A mirage projected by Sally. He would have found out at some point. They would have argued. They would have gone their separate ways. In a flash of insight he realised that Sally wasn’t the sort to have a family. He was just a stepping stone for her dreams. He could have been anyone.

And now? What now? He was still married to Sally. She was still around, stalking him and anyone who came near him. He was trapped.

Peter groaned. There was a swish and Grace was instantly at his side. He could feel the warmth of her next to him and smell her perfume. He opened his eyes. She drew back, ever so slightly. It was as though a thin veil had descended between them.

‘Peter. How are you feeling?’ She looked worried, but was not, he noticed, touching him. He remembered the last conversation they’d had. He took in the sight of her, so close. The short wisps of hair at the nape of her neck, the wide mouth that was so delightful to kiss, the kindness in her eyes. He was in love with her – this clever, serious woman who was so unlike his wife. He was in love with her, but he’d asked her to keep her distance. He knew that she would keep her word.

‘Peter?’ A small frown appeared and the smile faded.

They were in an office of some kind. A man appeared behind Grace. ‘Concussion?’ he said. They both peered at him with concern.

‘No,’ said Peter. He pushed himself up so that he was propped on his elbows. ‘My head. Ow!’

‘We’re not sure what happened,’ said Grace. ‘I think you tripped and fell and hit your head.’ She was telling him the cover story, which was sensible, but she looked so guilty, it was laughable. She was a terrible liar. The other man didn’t look like he believed her either, but he didn’t say anything. He looked from one to the other and shrugged, probably deciding it to be a private argument.

‘You’ve … got a nasty cut on your forehead,’ said Grace. ‘On the other side to the scar.’

He sat up further and touched the plaster on his head. ‘It’ll make a nice addition to the collection. I’ll look like a proper hard man within a couple of weeks.’

Grace gave him an unconvincing smile. ‘How are you feeling?’ she said again. ‘Any dizziness?’

He shook his head and winced. ‘Ouch.’

‘I think you should sit still for a while,’ said the man. ‘You took a nasty blow. I think we should take you into A & E, just to be on the safe side.’

Oh no. The last time he went to A & E he had been taken in a separate ambulance to his bride. He had spent far too long sitting in a wheelchair, waiting and waiting for news. ‘No. No need. I’m fine. I just need some water.’

The man looked unconvinced. “There’s a glass of water. Can I get you something else?’

‘Painkillers.’ Peter sat up, slowly.

‘Actually, I’d love something to drink,’ said Grace. She took a seat a safe distance away from him. ‘Coffee, if you have it?’

‘Right you are, miss.’ The man left, looking slightly relieved.

Peter gingerly took a sip of water. Once the man was out of the room, he looked around. ‘She’s not here, is she?’

‘No. I guess she’s never been in this room before.’

But she had been in the casino. He had been right. ‘I need to talk to her,’ he said.

‘She’ll probably be at your house. Or just outside.’ Grace was looking at the floor. ‘When you’re feeling well enough, I’ll see you home. You can talk to her then.’

She meant that he should talk to the empty air, hoping that Sally was listening. But he needed to talk to Sally properly. To interact with her. To hear the excuses as she made them. ‘No, I mean, I need to talk to her … face to face. Directly.’

Grace stiffened. Too late, he realised his mistake.

‘You want her to possess me?’ Her voice was cold. It was as though a door had clanged shut. There was no more awkwardness. Just a cold distance. ‘No. I have no intention of coming between you and your wife. Not in any sense.’

Shit. The last time Sally had taken over Grace it had been a disaster. For everyone. Grace has just been attacked by Sally and now he was asking her to do something she didn’t want to, just so that he could argue with Sally. He felt like a completely insensitive git. ‘Grace, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—’

Grace put up a hand. ‘When you feel well enough, I’ll leave. I won’t bother you again.’ Her eyes met his and he saw the anger and hurt in them. ‘You and Sally need to sort things out between yourselves. I am not part of this.’

The bouncer returned with a mug of coffee and a couple of ibuprofen for Peter. Grace stood up and crossed the room.

Peter took the pills and swallowed them with more water.

‘How are you feeling now, Peter?’ the bouncer said.

Peter sighed. ‘Better, actually.’ He nodded as though to prove it.

The bouncer looked relieved. ‘No nausea? Dizziness?’

‘No. Nothing like that. Just a really stingy cut.’ Peter attempted to smile.

Grace had turned her back to him and was examining the pictures on the walls.

‘I still think you need to go to A & E,’ said the bouncer. His eyes darted from Grace to Peter and back again. ‘I know you said you were okay, but I have to call—’

‘I’ll sign a disclaimer if you like,’ Peter interrupted. He needed to get this sorted out. The last thing he needed was a trip to hospital. ‘I understand you have procedures, but I really am fine. Just a small cut, that’s all.’

‘I … actually, we do have a form for that.’ The man brightened. ‘Let me find it for you.’

It took only a few minutes to sign the paperwork. The bouncer seemed relieved to have sorted it all out. ‘Let me call you a taxi.’ He picked up the phone.

Grace turned. ‘Could you make that two please?’ She gave Peter an appraising look. ‘Unless you need someone to come in the taxi with you.’ Her voice made it clear she would rather not.

‘No. I’ll be fine. I’m sure.’ His head was shooting with pain, but he didn’t feel ill enough to force her to stay. Spending a journey sitting next to her would be agony. Not the sort of pain that drugs would help with.

The look of relief on her face made him want to weep.

Grace went to the bathroom to wash her face and hands. In the mirror she saw Sally. She would have been startled if she wasn’t so angry with her.

‘How is he?’ said Sally. There seemed to be genuine concern.

‘He’ll live, no thanks to you.’ She spoke to the reflection, rather than the ghost. Somehow the reflection seemed truer. ‘You could have killed him.’

‘I didn’t mean to hit him,’ Sally bit back. ‘My so called friend is trying to steal my husband. I was angry. Who wouldn’t be?’

‘We were talking. Nothing more.’ Somewhere inside, Grace felt a familiar stab of guilt, but at that moment, she was too angry and worried to care.

‘Oh yeah? I may be a ghost, but I’m not blind you know. You were holding hands. Getting cosy. I don’t know which of you I’m more hacked off with. You for sneaking behind my back. Or Peter for going off with someone before I’m even cold in my grave.’

‘Oh for heaven’s sake. Don’t be so melodramatic.’

‘Melodramatic, my arse. You knew exactly what you were doing. I should have known the cutesy friend act was too good to be true. Sneaky bitch.’

‘You know what? I don’t have time for this.’ Grace turned around and faced her. ‘He’s a good man. You’ve used him and lied to him. You don’t deserve him. He certainly doesn’t deserve what just happened.’

‘Hah. Saint Peter. If he’s so hard done by, why did he marry me in the first place? It’s not like I forced him to.’

‘How the hell should I know why he married you?’ said Grace. Sally had probably manipulated him into it. Goodness knows, she’d told him enough lies.

‘You’ve been lying there in a coma and life moves on. People change, Sally. Deal with it.’

‘If he’s changed so much, why doesn’t he divorce me?’ Sally was shouting in her face now.

‘He can’t divorce you. You’re in a coma. And he’s not a widow because you won’t bloody well die!’

There was a moment of silence as the enormity of what she’d said sank in. There it was, in a nutshell. They both wanted Peter. Neither of them could have him because Sally was neither alive, nor dead.

Sally recovered first. ‘Oh you’d like that, wouldn’t you? If I died.’

No, she realised. She wouldn’t. She didn’t want anyone to die. There had been enough death and loss. She didn’t need to deal with that sort of thing anymore. ‘You know what? I’ve had enough of this. This is not my problem.’ She walked around Sally and stamped off.

‘Don’t you walk away from me,’ Sally screamed from behind her. ‘You can’t run away from me.’

‘Watch me,’ Grace muttered.

Sally popped up ahead of her. ‘You can’t run away from me because I will haunt you.’ Her narrowed eyes gleamed. ‘I will follow you. Wherever you go. You can’t get away from me.’

Grace ignored her.

Sally faltered. ‘I’ll wait for you at your house. You’ve got to come home eventually.’

‘I can move. Then what are you going to do?’ She walked up until she was nose to nose with Sally. The cold bit into her face. Goosebumps rose on her arms. She could feel the outside of her fists tingling with it. ‘Don’t threaten me Sally. You need me. Far more than you realise. Without me, you’re nothing. A ghost that no one can hear or see. All you can do is make people feel uncomfortable. The most famous you’ll get is if you end up on Paranormal Activity.’