The Other Woman

She didn’t say another word until we pulled up in the hospital car park and I went to get out.

‘What are you doing?’ she said. I could hear the panic in her voice. ‘Where are you going?’

‘I’m just going to take you in. Adam said to make sure you get in okay.’

‘I’m perfectly capable of seeing to that myself,’ she sneered. ‘I know where to go.’

‘Yes, but you were very shaky on your feet last time,’ I said, loudly and slowly, as if I was talking to someone hard of hearing.

‘I’ll not be needing your help,’ she said huffily. ‘I’ll take it from here.’

‘Are you sure?’ I asked. ‘I’d feel happier if I took you in.’

I smiled as she nimbly jumped out of the car and made her way across the car park.

‘I’ll come back for you in a couple of hours, then?’ I called out, but she didn’t even look back. I watched as she walked through the automatic doors and into the main reception.

I’d downloaded a map of the vast hospital building, and noticed that there were two other exits, both at the rear of the site. I’d estimated that it would take her four or five minutes to navigate her way through the various corridors and departments to either of the other exits. She wouldn’t just come straight back out here, that was too risky. She’d go for one of the others – I’d plump for the one nearest the shopping centre. Once she was in there, she could lose herself for hours, hence the reason why I needed to catch her before she got there. I swung the car round and headed out onto the ring road, through the estate, past Sainsbury’s, and into the pay-and-display car park for the town centre. I’d done it in less than two minutes.

I parked up so that I could see the hospital exit between the stationary cars, and waited. My mouth was dry, and I was sure I was forgetting to breathe. When I saw a flash of burgundy, the same as her cardigan, my chest caught as I gasped for air.

I slammed the steering wheel. ‘Shit,’ I said out loud, as if I was surprised to see her, and I suddenly wished that I hadn’t. As much as I knew I was right, the revelation that she had lied about having cancer made everything so much more complicated. How was I going to tell Adam? How would he react? Would he believe me? What would I have to do to prove I was right?

I sat there dumbly. I hadn’t thought much past this point. She was getting close to the entrance of the precinct and, if I didn’t move fast, I was going to lose her.

‘Shit,’ I said again, as I grabbed the keys from the ignition and pushed the door open. I’d have to take my chances on the pay-and-display. I didn’t have time to get a ticket.

I kept a fair distance behind her, shadowing her movements. I didn’t know what I was doing, but an impending sense of dread began to engulf me as I realized that I was going to have to confront her. There was no point in doing all this if I didn’t. I tried to reason with myself that I could just take the information home with me and deal with it from there, but I knew, even as I was thinking it, that that course of action wouldn’t achieve anything. This had to be dealt with here and now.

I followed her for twenty minutes, darting in and out of shops, hiding behind pillars. My chest tightened as I watched her disappear into a Costa Coffee.

‘Just sit back and watch it unravel,’ I said to myself, as I followed her in five minutes later.

Relief flooded through me as I saw her sitting with her back to the front of the shop, giving me another chance to back out, another ten seconds to change my mind.

‘What can I get you?’ asked the perky barista.

Too late. ‘A cappuccino to go, please.’

I looked over at Pammie, imagining that she must have heard my voice, yet knowing it was nigh on impossible to hear anything over the din of the milk-frother.

I don’t take sugar, but I took myself over to the stirring station, so that I came at Pammie head on as I walked out. It needed to look like a happy coincidence.

‘P . . . Pamela?’ I pretended to stutter, as I drew level with her table.

She looked up, and the colour instantly drained from her face.

‘Emily?’ she questioned, as if hoping that I’d somehow say ‘no’.

‘My goodness, what a surprise,’ I said, feigning astonishment. ‘Finished at the hospital so soon?’

I watched as her head and mouth battled for control, searching for the right thing to say. ‘I’m too late,’ she said. ‘Apparently my appointment was this morning.’

‘Oh, really?’ I said. ‘That’s odd.’

‘Yes, I’m to come back tomorrow.’

‘Did they not let you know in advance that your time had changed?’ I asked.

‘Apparently, they sent a letter . . . in the post,’ she faltered. I was getting a sick satisfaction from her obvious discomfort. I thought she’d be more prepared than this. Ready for this eventuality, should it ever occur.

‘Really? How strange that you didn’t receive it.’

How long was I going to keep up this charade? I pulled out the chair opposite her and sat down. ‘Shall I tell you what’s really going on here?’

She looked at me, her eyes like steel, daring me to call it.

I leant across the table. ‘What’s going on, is that you never had cancer in the first place, did you?’

She looked like she’d been slapped in the face. ‘What?’ she said. ‘What a wicked thing to say.’

I ignored the tears welling up in her eyes. I was used to the waterworks. She could bring them on at will.

‘Are you really going to keep going with this?’ I asked incredulously.

‘I don’t know what you’re suggesting,’ she said. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘I think you do,’ I said. ‘You never even went to the chemotherapy ward, did you?’

‘Of course I did,’ she said. Her voice was getting higher. ‘I’m to go back tomorrow.’

‘No, you didn’t, and do you know how I know?’ I said, calling her bluff. ‘Because I’ve just been up there and they’ve never heard of you.’

She wiped a tear away and laughed wryly. ‘You can believe what you like.’

‘Oh, I know what I believe,’ I said, feeling slightly wrong-footed. This wasn’t going how I’d imagined. ‘I wonder what Adam is going to make of all this?’

Tears fell down her cheeks. ‘He doesn’t need to know,’ she said quietly.

This was more like it. ‘You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this. How long I’ve waited to expose you for who you really are.’

‘You can’t tell him,’ she said, as she closed her eyes. Her wet lashes stuck together in clumps. ‘It’ll be the end of—’

‘It’ll be the end of your lies and deceit. He’ll know you for the person you really are, not the perfect mother you pretend to be.’

‘You can’t tell him,’ she repeated.

‘Just you watch me,’ I said, pushing the chair out from under me and standing up. ‘Just you watch.’

I went to walk away, to walk away to a new life without her in it. I dared to imagine my world as it was about to become: free of stress and full of love. I hadn’t even got past her when she said, ‘And how are you going to explain away James?’

I stopped dead in my tracks. ‘What?’

She fixed me with her eyes. ‘How are you going to explain to your fiancé that you’ve been seeing his brother behind his back?’

My blood ran cold as my brain back-tracked to James: where we’d met, what we’d said. No one could have seen us, could they? What did she know? I wondered if she’d noticed that every look was just that second too long, or that every time we met, the kiss on the cheek was just that little bit softer. It was nothing, yet everything.

She was double bluffing me, clutching at straws. I looked at her and, despite the white rush of images that were bombarding my vision, I kept my gaze firm.

‘Are you honestly suggesting there’s something going on between me and James?’ I questioned, half laughing.

She nodded. ‘Oh, I’m sure of it. And do you know how I know?’ she said, turning the tables on me. ‘Because I told him to do it.’





Sandie Jones's books