One Little Mistake: The gripping eBook bestseller

Maggie examines Vicky’s face. ‘Headache?’

Vicky nods and Maggie hands Josh to Tom, opens her bag and flourishes a packet of painkillers with an air of triumph. ‘Why don’t you go back to bed for an hour or so? We can look after the girls.’

‘You do look a bit seedy,’ Amber says. She pours her a glass of water and watches while Vicky swallows back the pills. She’s not surprised her friend is having sleepless nights. So would she, in her shoes.

‘Thanks. Do you mind if I go and lie down? I feel shit.’

‘Too much sun yesterday, I expect,’ Tom says. ‘Go on. You won’t be missed.’

Vicky manages a snarky smile and gets up. Amber follows her out of the room and looks up at her as she tramps heavily upstairs. ‘What’s the matter?’ she says.

‘Nothing.’ Vicky holds her gaze for a moment and then continues on her way.

Amber walks into the sitting room where the girls are lounging on the floor in their pyjamas playing card games. They barely acknowledge her as she tidies up around them. Shoes and socks, books and comics and plastic toys. She doesn’t feel great herself, but she’s a guest and sees it as her duty to remain upbeat. She plumps up the cushions and sits down with her book. It’s a quiet morning, everyone subdued. Even Josh is less rumbustious than normal.

Two chapters later her eyes begin to grow heavy. She doesn’t want to fall asleep so she stretches, gets up and wanders out into the hall. The kitchen door is ajar, Maggie and Tom’s voices audible. She stops for a moment, her hand against the door panel, and listens, even though she knows that eavesdropping never made anyone happy.

‘But do you like her?’ Maggie is saying.

‘I am extremely fond of her.’

There’s a long pause. Amber holds her breath. Her nerves tingle.

‘Is there a but there?’ Maggie asks.

‘It’s not as simple as that. Amber is a complicated character; she makes you feel like you have to be constantly on her side, or you’re not her friend.’ He laughs. ‘I’m tying myself in knots here, but it’s hard to explain. She’s always been there for Vicky, and vice versa. I’m grateful to her and Robert for their friendship and support.’

‘I just think they make an odd pair. Amber isn’t like the girls Vicky hung out with at school and university. It’s a pity she’s let those friendships slide.’

‘Well, you know what it’s like when you have children. You get so involved in your local area there isn’t always time for people who aren’t at the same stage in life as you are. We still see them from time to time. And she and Amber might be very different, but they give each other something. Vicky has a tendency to worry and over-think things, and Amber keeps her grounded. Vicky gives Amber a sense of belonging.’

‘That’s interesting,’ Maggie says.

‘Amber is rootless and lonely. Vicky is her shield against that.’

‘If you ask me, Amber is a dog in the manger.’

‘I’m not asking you. Sorry, I don’t mean to sound rude but it’s none of my business either. I would never judge or interfere.’

‘Of course not. I never said you should. All I was thinking was that maybe you should see more of other friends. I did like Jenny and Simon.’

‘Yes.’ The defensive tone has gone. ‘I will admit they’re a breath of fresh air.’

No, no no no. Amber runs outside, round the side of the house, and hides behind the white wall. She rips at the bougainvillea, petals scattering at her feet, pink staining her fingertips.

Noises rise up to me: the clink of cutlery; a peal of laughter from Josh; the constant clickety chatter of crickets. My eyes won’t stay closed. My mind keeps forcing me back to that moment when I opened the door to Josh’s bedroom; to the intruder staring at me, Josh in his arms. I understand now that the man was horrified to have been caught like that. I doubt he meant to hurt Josh; all he wanted was for him to be quiet so that he could get out of the house without being seen. I feel less anger towards him than I do towards myself. What possessed me to do it?

On impulse, I get up and wander into Amber’s empty bedroom. She never did swap with us. The room is reasonably tidy, the bed properly made, the clothes picked up and folded. I wonder what it means when her environment is less in control. I’m not the only one with problems. There’s a book beside her bed; not the one she’s been reading by the pool, but a well-thumbed paperback. I sit down and take it in my hands. The Blue Fairy Book. Inside the flyleaf its previous owner has written, This book belongs to Linda Field. 1970. Amber must have found it in a charity shop. I read some of these when I was young and they don’t hold back on the brutality and violence. Blue Beard and his blood-drenched brides gave me nightmares. I make a mental note to ask her not to read them to my girls.

I’m about to leave the room when a breeze catches the muslins and as they float away from the window I see Amber at the edge of the pool, at the deep end, looking down into the water. She pulls her hair into a twist and lets it fall in front of her shoulder. I wonder what she’s thinking as she stares into the blue depths.

At the corner of my vision, a stealthy movement alerts me to the presence of the children. I squint into the sunlight. They are hiding behind the shrubs. I try to work out what they’re up to and something, perhaps the light catching my eternity ring, makes Amber look straight at me. A strange thing happens. As if in slow motion, she starts to lean over the edge, to lean until her leg comes forward and her arms fly out and she floats downwards. Time speeds up as the water surges up around her, embraces her and sucks her down. For a few brief seconds I am so transfixed by the scene that I don’t act.

She surfaces and starts turning circles, thrashing her arms, screaming for help, and I do nothing. I’m in a trance, my feet glued to the floor, my legs useless. Polly, Sophie and Emily must have been watching because all of a sudden they are there and Sophie starts screaming. She jumps in and my girls race towards the house and still I don’t move. I merely watch fascinated as Amber sinks and rises, sinks and rises until she goes still and her hair spreads like crow’s wings in the blue …

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