Take Two (A psychological thriller)

Eddie shook his head. ‘I’d have told you not to come.’

‘One of your famous migraines?’ Her mouth dropped open and she covered it with her hand. ‘Oh my God,’ she said. ‘You’ve done it before, haven’t you? All those times you had a headache, you were screwing her?’

‘Not just her, honey.’ He sighed. ‘Look, Carolyn, no one ever said we were exclusive.’

She took out his keys and waved them at him. ‘Then why do I have these? And why do you have the keys to my house?’

‘Because that’s what you wanted. It was your idea. And I did tell you, call first.’ He looked at his watch. ‘You should go.’

‘Go? What do you mean, go?’

Eddie gestured at the door. ‘Just go home, Carolyn. We can talk about this tomorrow.’

‘What? You want me to leave? Really?’

‘I think that’s best.’

Carolyn took a deep breath, trying to quell the rising sense of panic that was threatening to overwhelm her.  ‘Eddie, look, we can sort this out.’ She nodded at the bathroom door. ‘Tell her to go.’ She forced a smile and pointed at the unbroken bottle of champagne. ‘The bubbly’s still okay. We can drink it together.’

Eddie shook his head. ‘You’re the one who needs to go.’

Tears began to run down her face again. ‘Eddie, please…’ She sniffed and wiped her nose with her hand. ‘I just need to talk to you. I don’t want to be on my own, not tonight.’

He shook his head again. ‘You need to go, Carolyn.’

‘I love you, Eddie,’ she said. ‘Please, don’t throw me out.’

‘You shouldn’t have come in the first place,’ he said. He took a step towards the door. ‘Don’t make a scene, honey. Please.’  He put a hand on her shoulder, trying to steer her through the door. She threw her arms around him and hugged him, pressing her cheek against his chest. ‘Please, Eddie. Let me stay.’

‘Carolyn, no.’

‘I’ll do anything, Eddie. Anything you want. Don’t send me away.’

Eddie untangled her arms and held her by the wrists. ‘You can’t stay, Carolyn. I’m sorry.’

Tears were running down her face and she sniffed. ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t phone. I’m sorry I broke your mirror. I’m sorry about everything.’

‘I know,’ he said. He pulled her into the hallway. ‘But you have to go.’

Carolyn caught sight of her reflection in a mirror by his coat rack. Her face was red and blotchy and she’d smeared her lipstick. She looked away, embarrassed.

‘Come on Carolyn. Don’t make this worse than it is.’  Eddie released his grip on her left wrist and opened the front door.

‘Eddie, don’t do this,’ Carolyn sobbed. ‘I need you.’

‘You don’t need anybody,’ said Eddie. ‘That’s your problem.’  He pushed her out of the door. She stood outside, her hands over her face, sobbing as he closed the door.

Still crying, Carolyn reached out to ring the doorbell, but then stopped. She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself.  ‘You bastard,’ she muttered. She was suddenly ashamed of the way she’d behaved. At least a dozen things she should have said flashed through her mind but she knew it was too late - there was nothing she could think of that was going to change anything. She turned and walked downstairs and let herself out of the building.  As she crossed the road, she took out Eddie’s keys and used the Yale key to scratch the full length of the driver’s side of his BMW, sneering as the key scarred the immaculate paintwork. She started to drop the keys down a nearby grid but began to cry as she realised she couldn’t bring herself to throw them away. A black cab was driving towards her with its light on and she flagged it down.  The driver wound down the window and she managed to blurt out ‘Notting Hill Gate’ before she climbed in the back and burst into tears.

CHAPTER 5

Carolyn’s alarm woke her at just after five. It was still dark outside. She rolled over, switched on her bedside light and picked up her mobile phone. She looked hopefully at the screen, wondering if Eddie had called or sent a text, but he hadn’t. She smoked a cigarette before rolling out of bed and padding over to her bathroom. She showered, toweled herself dry and pulled on a pale blue Chanel dress.  She sat down at her dressing table and applied mascara, blusher and lipstick. It would all have to be redone when she got to the studio but there were always paparazzi around and the last thing she wanted was a picture of her disheveled and without make-up appearing in the Daily Mail along with snide comments about her looking her age. She tilted up her chin and ran her fingers along the skin there, then turned her head slowly from side to side. ‘You look good for forty-four,’ she said. She moved her face closer to the mirror and scrutinised the fine lines at the corners of her eyes. ‘Your eyes might need some work, though.’  She forced a frown and examined her forehead.  There were a few lines there, but not enough to warrant another course of Botox.

Her phone rang and she flinched, then hurried over to the bedside table, hoping the call was from Eddie. Her heart sank when she saw it was Billy. ‘Miss Castle, just wanted to check where I was to collect you,’ he said.