The Other Woman’s House Read Online Free Page A

direction, nowhere near the door.
Don’t look. Stop looking
. I can’t help it. My back hits the wall; something hard presses into my skin. I hear a crash, step on something that crunches.Pain pricks the soles of my feet. I look down and see broken glass. Blood. Mine, this time.
    Somehow, I get myself out of the room and close the door. Better; now there’s a barrier between it and me.
Kit
. I need Kit. I walk into our bedroom, switch on the light and burst into tears. How dare he be asleep? ‘Kit!’
    He groans. Blinks. ‘Light off,’ he mumbles, groggy with sleep. ‘Fuck’s going on? Time is it?’
    I stand there crying, my feet bleeding onto the white rug.
    â€˜Con?’ Kit hauls himself up into a sitting position and rubs his eyes. ‘What’s wrong? What’s happened?’
    â€˜She’s dead,’ I tell him.

    â€˜Who’s dead?’ He’s alert now. He reaches under the bed for his glasses, puts them on.
    â€˜I don’t know! A woman,’ I sob. ‘On the computer.’
    â€˜What woman? What are you talking about?’ He throws back the covers, gets out of bed. ‘Your…what have you done to your feet? They’re bleeding.’
    â€˜I don’t know.’ It’s the best I can do. ‘I did a virtual…’ I’m having trouble breathing and speaking at the same time.
    â€˜Just tell me if everybody’s okay. Your sister, Benji…’
    â€˜What?’ My sister? ‘It’s nothing to do with them, it’s a woman. I can’t see her face.’
    â€˜You’re white as a sheet, Con. Did you have a nightmare?’
    â€˜On my laptop. She’s there now,’ I sob. ‘She’s dead. She must be. We should call the police.’
    â€˜Sweetheart, there’s no dead woman on your laptop,’ Kit says. I hear the impatience beneath the reassurance. ‘You had a bad dream.’
    â€˜Go and look!’ I scream at him. ‘It’s not a dream. Go in there and see it for yourself!’
    He looks down at my feet again, at the trail of blood on the rug and the floorboards – a dotted red line leading to the bedroom door. ‘What happened to you?’ he asks. I wonder how guilty I look. ‘What’s going on?’ The concerned tone has gone; his voice is hard with suspicion. Without waiting to hear my answer, he heads for the spare room.
    â€˜No!’ I blurt out.
    He stops on the landing. Turns. ‘No? I thought you wanted me to look at your computer.’ I’ve made him angry. Anything that interrupts his sleep makes him angry.
    I can’t let him go in there until I’ve explained, or tried to. ‘I did a virtual tour of 11 Bentley Grove,’ I say.
    â€˜
What?
For fuck’s sake, Connie.’
    â€˜Listen to me. Just listen, okay? It’s for sale, 11 Bentley Grove is for sale.’
    â€˜How do you know that?’
    â€˜I…I just know, all right?’ I wipe my face. If I’m under attack, I can’t cry. I have to concentrate on defending myself.
    â€˜This is just…Connie, this is
so
fucked up, I don’t know where to…’ Kit pushes past me, tries to get back into bed.
    I grab his arm to stop him. ‘Be angry later, but first listen to me. Okay? That’s all I’m asking.’
    He shakes me off him. I hate the way he’s staring at me.
    What do you expect him to do?
    â€˜I’m listening,’ he says quietly. ‘I’ve been listening to you talk about 11 Bentley Grove for six months. When’s it going to stop?’
    â€˜It’s for sale,’ I say, as calmly as I can. ‘I looked it up on Roundthehouses, a property website.’
    â€˜When?’
    â€˜Now, just…before.’
    â€˜You waited until I was asleep?’ Kit shakes his head in disgust.
    â€˜There was a virtual tour, and I…I thought I’d…’ It’s better if I