Remember Me: The gripping psychological thriller with a jaw-dropping twist. Read online

  ‘Nice photos,’ I say, feeling the champagne relax me.

  I feel Sharni at the side of me and sniff her perfume. It smells of lemons.

  ‘I took them,’ she says, pouring champagne into my glass.

  ‘You did?’ says Chris. ‘They’re brilliant.’

  ‘Oh, no more,’ I say, covering the glass with my hand. ‘I really can’t be drunk in charge of a two-year-old.’

  ‘You’re not with him now,’ she says, removing my hand. ‘I could take some photos of Ben if you like?’

  I start at Ben’s name. I don’t remember telling her his name was Ben.

  ‘You’re a good photographer,’ I say.

  I’m beginning to feel heady.

  ‘She should be. It’s her job,’ laughs Tom.

  ‘Really?’ says Chris. ‘Who do you work for?’

  ‘Chris is a town planner. He’s always taking photos of roads. You know, for road improvements,’ I say, taking a Melba toast. The champagne is beginning to make my head spin.

  ‘It’s not quite the same,’ says Chris and for a moment I feel stupid and hate him for making me feel that way.

  ‘I’m freelance,’ says Sharni, helping herself to a salmon crispbread. ‘I take fashion photos. I design the sets for fashion shoots. I do a lot of work for Vogue, do you know it? I have a studio in their London offices.’

  ‘But mostly she gets to work from home, the lucky woman,’ says Tom, kissing her lovingly on the cheek. ‘Town planning, that’s interesting,’ he adds, turning to Chris.

  I can’t help thinking there’s a patronising tone in his voice. I turn away and study the photos.

  ‘These are excellent,’ I say and wonder if my speech is slurred.

  ‘It would be great to have a professional photo of Ben,’ says Chris. ‘Wouldn’t it Clare?’

  ‘I’d be happy to take photos of him,’ says Sharni.

  I watch in surprise as Tom uncorks another bottle of champagne. I don’t think Chris and I have ever got through a whole bottle of wine in an evening let alone two bottles of champagne.

  ‘What do you do Clare?’ Tom asks.

  ‘I’m a school teacher. I only do two days a week now.’

  ‘She helps at the local nursery too,’ adds Chris and I feel stupidly embarrassed that I don’t have a high-powered job like Sharni’s.

  ‘That must be great for Ben,’ says Sharni, but her voice sounds hollow.

  ‘We like to get involved,’ says Chris. ‘We’re key holders too so should there ever be a problem we’re the first on the list.’

  I roll my eyes at Chris. He’s going over the top trying to impress them for some reason.

  ‘Lucky you,’ says Tom, clinking my glass with his. ‘I feel like I do eight days a week.’

  ‘Tom’s a barrister, so it never really stops,’ groans Sharni.

  ‘That must be really interesting,’ says Chris and I feel a spark of irritation. Does he have to suck up to them? After all, their house isn’t much bigger than ours. In fact, I’m beginning to wonder, if they’re doing that well, why are they living here at all?

  ‘Clare is brilliant at interior design,’ says Sharni.

  ‘No, I’m not really,’ I protest.

  ‘You’re too modest.’

  ‘I’ll get some beers,’ says Tom.

  ‘I’ll get them,’ Sharni says, taking me by the arm. ‘I want to show Clare the kitchen.’

  I glance down at my bag. I really should check my phone just in case Kathryn has texted. I’m pulled into a surprisingly messy kitchen. Used oven dishes clutter the counter along with empty packets of smoked salmon. Sharni peeks into the shiny new Aga.

  ‘Can you pass the oven glove?’ she asks. ‘It’s with the dishes.’

  I turn to get the glove and stare at a crystal vase on the window sill. It’s full of flowers.

  ‘Is it not there?’ she asks.

  ‘Oh yes.’

  She slams a tray of tartlets on to the counter.

  ‘God, that’s hot.’

  I wonder if I should ask for my vase. She clearly doesn’t need it, but I don’t want to seem petty. I’ll wait until we leave. She’s no doubt got it somewhere ready to give me, when we do.

  ‘The kitchen’s a bit of a tip, I know. I thought I’d wallpaper, what do you think? I really value your opinion.’

  ‘I think wallpaper would be nice.’

  ‘I’m not sure. Paint is so much easier.’

  ‘Yes, our kitchen is painted.’

  ‘Do you want a beer?’ she asks, opening the fridge.

  I shake my head.

  ‘Perhaps we could go to Liberty’s together, take a look at the wallpapers. How about Monday? You don’t work Mondays do you?’ she says excitedly.

  I stare at her.

  ‘How do you know I don’t work Mondays?’ I hear the sharpness in my voice and regret it. She doesn’t seem to notice and says,

  ‘It was Monday when we moved in. You were home. I just presumed you don’t work on a Monday.’

  ‘Oh, of course, I forgot.’

  ‘We could do lunch too,’ she says.

  ‘I’ll have Ben,’ I remind her.

  ‘That’s okay. It’ll be great to take Ben out. I can take some photos of him. Kill two birds with one stone.’

  ‘Well …’

  Before I realise, she has topped up my glass with champagne.

  ‘Let’s get these beers to the guys,’ she says.

  *

  It’s almost eleven. I’d promised Kathryn we wouldn’t be later than ten-thirty but it’s beginning to feel like the evening has only just started.

  ‘Should I phone Kathryn?’ I ask Chris. ‘Tell her we’ll be a bit later. Check it is okay?’

  ‘I’m sure it will be but yes, give her a bell.’

  ‘Can I use your loo?’ I ask Sharni.

  ‘Sure,’ she says. ‘It’s upstairs, first on the left.’

  I search in my bag for my phone. My eyes are blurry and I’m finding it difficult to see.

  ‘You’ve dropped something,’ says Chris.

  My hand finally lands on the phone and I pull it out of the jumbled mess in my handbag along with numerous bits of make-up. Sharni must think I’m so disorganised.

  I climb the stairs carefully, my head spinning from the alcohol.

  ‘There’s no light bulb,’ Sharni calls as I reach the top. ‘Turn the lamp on.’

  I fumble around the little table on the landing until I feel the lamp. The soft light illuminates the landing. The lamp is identical to ours. It’s the one Sharni admired in our lounge.

  ‘I got it in John Lewis.’

  Her voice makes me jump.

  ‘Sorry did I scare you?’ she says from behind me.

  ‘It’s okay,’ I say shakily.

  ‘I hope you don’t mind. I love it so much. I thought I’d put it up here.’

  ‘I’m flattered,’ I smile.

  ‘You girls okay up there? I’m making coffee,’ calls Tom.

  ‘Clare just saw our new lamp,’ smiles Sharni.

  ‘You shouldn’t have such good taste Clare,’ says Tom. ‘Do you want a coffee?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ I say, ‘we really should be going.’

  I find the bathroom and step inside. Sharni must think I’m a right neurotic. I have to admit that I feel a bit annoyed about the vase but she’s probably been rushed off her feet and has forgotten all about it. I’ll ask for it in a few days. It’s nice to be admired though. I can’t remember when anyone has admired my ideas. Chris had never liked the lamp. I feel vindicated. It will be nice to go shopping with someone who has the same taste as me. It will be fun.

  The bathroom is new. Shiny and squeaky clean, unlike ours with towels strewn everywhere. Here, the towels are neatly folded over a rail.

  ‘Thanks for a great night,’ says Chris, kissing Sharni on the cheek.

  It’s eleven-thirty and I’m feeling quite anxious about Ben. I’ve never left him this long with Kathryn before.


  ‘We must do it again,’ says Tom, hugging me.

  ‘I’ll see you Monday,’ says Sharni, giving me a hug. Her lemon fragrance washes over me. ‘I can’t wait. I’ve got some great ideas for the house.’

  ‘You must come to us next time,’ says Chris. ‘Come for dinner.’

  We wave and Chris supports me by the arm.

  ‘I’ve drunk too much,’ I say.

  ‘Good. I’ll take advantage of you,’ he laughs. ‘Did you ask about the vase?’

  ‘I forgot.’

  He squeezes my bum.

  ‘I’ll get a taxi for Kathryn,’ he whispers. ‘And see you upstairs.’

  *

  ‘How have you been feeling this week?’ Leah asked.

  The tissue box is flowery this time. She wondered if Leah’s other clients cried more than her. Do they relive their nightmares and hellish days in this room too? She sat with her hands in her lap and looked down at her bitten nails.

  ‘The same,’ she said flatly.

  ‘Are the pills the doctor gave you helping?’

  She sighed and looked to the floor.

  ‘I don’t like taking them,’ she said. ‘They make me forget things and I don’t want to forget …’ she trailed off.

  ‘No one wants you to forget,’ Leah said softly, ‘but we want you to heal. It’s been nine months. It’s important you help the healing process.’

  The tears sprang to her eyes and ran down her cheeks. She didn’t try to conceal them instead she demolished the flowery tissue box.

  ‘How are things at home?’

  Empty, everything at home feels empty.

  ‘He’s understanding and tries to be very caring.’

  Leah nodded.

  ‘He’s suffering too. I know that.’

  She blew noisily into the tissue.

  But he’s let me down, she thought. They’ve all let me down.

  ‘I have to go,’ she said getting up.

  ‘You’ve only just arrived,’ Leah said, but her voice was resigned.

  ‘I’m not ready,’ she said.

  She doesn’t think she’ll ever be ready.

  Chapter Four

  ‘I’m not happy about continuing this medication, Clare.’

  I open my mouth to protest. It’s dry and my throat feels tight. I can feel my heart beating in my chest.

  ‘I’m not going to stop it at the moment,’ he continues. ‘I just think we should discuss it. If you’re still having anxiety problems perhaps we should look at other avenues.’

  Dr Rawlins looks kindly at me. He must have seen the panic on my face.

  I nod.

  ‘Is your sleeping any better?’

  ‘Some nights are okay but mostly …’

  He sighs.

  ‘Diazepam and zopiclone on a regular basis is not something I’m happy about. These drugs are normally for short term only. It’s not something I’m happy for you to have long term.’

  I grit my teeth and wonder if he would feel this way about his own wife. If she were suffering would he deny her help?

  ‘It’s just some days …’ I begin.

  ‘How many are you taking each day?’

  My fuddled brain tries to remember.

  ‘I’m … I’m not sure,’ I say honestly.

  ‘You do realise that they can, in the long term, make the anxiety worse. The side effects are moodiness, and you can become more panicky. I understand you had a difficult time but you have Ben now. I think we should look at other ways to deal with your anxiety.’

  ‘I don’t want any more counselling,’ I say firmly. ‘I don’t want to dredge everything up again.’

  My hands tremble at the memory.

  ‘Okay. I’m not going to force you to do anything you’re not happy with. I’m not as familiar with your history as your previous doctor. Let’s try reducing the dosage. Cut back a bit.’

  I want to slap him. He has no idea what I’ve been through.

  ‘Okay,’ I say meekly. To argue would be pointless.

  ‘Good, I’ll give you a prescription and we’ll see how you go.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I say, forcing a smile.

  ‘Good and how is Ben?’

  ‘He’s fine,’ I say.

  ‘Hello little fella, you’re coming along aren’t you?’ he says as he leans towards Ben.

  I take the prescription and hurriedly leave the surgery. I check the time on my mobile to see if I can get to the pharmacy before meeting Sharni.

  I wish I hadn’t agreed to go out with Sharni. It’s one of my free days with Ben and I’d much rather it was just the two of us. We could have gone to the park and then later, when Ben was napping, I would have made a curry for Chris. He likes my home-made curry. Instead we’ll have to have breaded fish with oven chips. I don’t even know Sharni that well. There is something about her that makes me feel uncomfortable. It’s totally stupid to feel that way, I know. But the truth is I feel rather dowdy next to her, although I’m not sure why. Chris had laughed when I’d mentioned it. She’s not exactly a sex bomb, he’d said, especially with those glasses. He’s right of course. She isn’t in the least glamorous, and her black-rimmed glasses don’t do her justice. Her hair would look better with blonde highlights but her personality is so alive whereas I feel half dead. I glance in the pharmacy window at my reflection. My skin is a pasty white and I know there are black circles under my eyes. If only I could get one decent night’s sleep. I’d do anything to lay my head on the pillow like Chris, and wake up in the morning refreshed. I envy him for that. You must have a guilty conscience, Helen had once said. That’s why you can’t sleep.

  I hand my prescription slip to the assistant and then wander around the shop as I wait. Ben plays happily with his toy car. I wonder if I can cancel the trip to Liberty’s with Sharni. I could tell her I have a migraine. I’m seriously considering this idea when my phone bleeps. It’s a text but the number is not familiar.

  Hi, are we still on for today? I just knocked but no answer. I’m a bit early. S x

  How did Sharni get my mobile number? I’m sure I never gave it to her, or did I? My memory is getting bad lately. Maybe Dr Rawlins is right about the diazepam. I had drunk too much on Saturday too, and had a major hangover on Sunday. The fact is I can’t remember much about that night at all.

  Had to pop out, I text back. At the pharmacy. Will be back in ten minutes.

  The assistant calls out my name and I collect my medication. I check inside the bag and sigh with relief. There is three month’s supply of diazepam. I buy a bottle of water and swallow two tablets before leaving the shop.

  My phone bleeps and I check the message.

  Great. I’ll walk down and meet you. We can get the bus outside the pharmacy. See you soon. S x

  I tuck the pills into my handbag and push the buggy outside to wait.

  ‘Here comes the bus,’ says Sharni hurrying towards us. She’s wearing a camel-coloured coat and long brown boots. They both look new. Before I can reach down to Ben she has him unbuckled and in her arms. She’s a flurry of energy and I feel tired just being around her.

  ‘I don’t know how you fold these contraptions down,’ she laughs, getting herself in a muddle with the buggy.

  I try not to get anxious. I know she is just trying to help and she seems to have a firm hold on him but she’s not familiar with children. I close up the buggy as Sharni puts her hand out to stop the bus.

  ‘What a bit of luck,’ she says climbing on.

  I struggle with the buggy until the driver takes it off me and settles it into place at the front of the bus. I hurry down to Sharni and sit on the seat in front of her shoving all my toddler paraphernalia beside me. I put my arms out to take Ben but she says,

  ‘He’s all comfy. Can I hang on to him? I promise to hand him back when we get there.’

  ‘Sure,’ I say feeling the warmth of the diazepam envelope me. ‘Sharni, I don’t remember giving you my phone number.’

  She smiles.


  ‘You didn’t. I asked Chris. You looked really …’ she pulls a face. ‘Champagne is the worst. I don’t know about you but I was pretty done for yesterday.’

  ‘Was I that drunk?’ I ask.

  ‘I hope you didn’t mind me asking Chris. I didn’t want to be knocking on your door all the time.’

  Ben reaches out to me and Sharni lifts him over the seat.

  ‘He’s had enough of me,’ she says mimicking a sad face expression. I take Ben and cocoon him in the warmth of my arms. I can smell Sharni’s perfume on him. Her hair is down and she runs her hands through it.

  ‘Thanks for coming today. I really am grateful. I hate shopping for house things on my own, and Tom is hopeless.’

  She rummages in her oversized handbag and produces a Nikon camera.

  ‘I thought I’d get some pics of Ben. Natural ones are the best aren’t they?’

  ‘Thanks,’ I say, sitting Ben on the seat beside me. ‘That’s a real professional camera.’

  Chris and I only use our iPhones to take photos. I’ve been thinking about getting a proper camera. Maybe Sharni can advise me. I’m feeling relaxed about Liberty’s now. It’s been ages since I’ve been shopping properly. I pull a scrunch from my bag and tie my hair back while Ben leans over the seat to play with Sharni. I’m glad I didn’t feign a headache. It’s actually quite nice to be out, and with a friend. I’ll get a bottle of wine to have with the fish tonight. At least that will make the meal more bearable.

  She looked at the flowers on the coffee table. It was unusual to see flowers in the therapist’s room.

  ‘A client gave them to me,’ said Leah by way of explanation.

  It had never occurred to her to give Leah flowers. Why would she? She pays enough for these sessions as it is.

  ‘They’re very pretty,’ she said.

  ‘Do you like flowers?’

  ‘Yes, but I don’t often think to buy them for myself.’

  ‘You’re looking brighter today,’ commented Leah.

  ‘Am I? I don’t feel any different.’