Deadly Lies by Ann Girdharry (book recommendations .TXT) 📗

tipped a packet of biscuits into a bowl and carried them into the lounge. She had the Glover house to herself and Maria was coming around for the afternoon.

Chatting with Maria was something Sylvie looked forward to. Maria was patient and attentive and she enjoyed listening. She was better than past friends who tired of Sylvie’s need to talk.

Maria loved Sylvie’s silly stories about the Glovers. She sympathised when Sylvie complained about her family back in Australia and oohed and aahed over the fact Sylvie was expected to return to Australia for her sister’s wedding. It was the last thing Sylvie wanted to do and Maria was in complete agreement it was Sylvie’s choice. Chloe was the favoured older sister who did everything right whereas Sylvie, in her parents’ eyes, did everything wrong. Sylvie had come to England to escape them and do things her own way. Maria got that.

Before breakfast, Sylvie had made an unexpected discovery. It was exciting. That was, until she told Jack. The way he reacted turned Sylvie’s world upside down.

And she was going to entrust Maria with the whole wretched story.

The bell rang and Sylvie rushed to the door.

‘Hello,’ Maria said, giving Sylvie a hug. ‘I brought those little cakes you like.’

‘Lovely. We can sit in the lounge for a change.’

‘I thought you weren’t allowed in there.’

‘Hey, who’s to know cos we’ve got the place to ourselves.’

Sylvie flounced through with Maria in tow. She installed herself in one of the sumptuous armchairs and Maria perched on the edge of the sofa.

‘Go on make yourself at home. I’ve got something I need to tell you,’ Sylvie said. She arranged Maria’s cakes on a plate, taking in the scent of fresh cream and icing. Her fingers were trembling. Actually she’d been a wreck all day, ever since she’d done the pregnancy test that morning and got a positive result.

‘I’m all ears,’ Maria said. ‘Don’t tell me it’s about your sister’s wedding.’

‘It’s nothing to do with boring Chloe though did I tell you Chloe’s still sending photos of wedding locations. Hasn’t she got the message I’m not interested? The dress she’s chosen is ghastly and her fiancé sounds the dullest person you’ve ever heard of. Of course, Chloe says he dotes on her. Which is totally sickening.’

‘Poor you.’

‘If I ever get married I want it on a beach and people can dance in the waves and make love in the sand. Here, help yourself.’ She pushed cakes and biscuits across the coffee table.

She wouldn’t be getting married any time soon, would she, Sylvie thought. Jack had made her angry. She’d expected him to be pleased by the pregnancy news. After all the times he told her he felt trapped by Alice and wanted to get away. Sylvie had expected him to be happy. She thought he’d be ready to take off with her and dump boring Alice. Jack’s reaction had been like a kick in the gut. Sylvie swallowed down the bitterness.

‘Have a look at the man Chloe’s going to marry, doesn’t he look awful.’ She needed Maria’s adoration today. Maria would understand what a shit Jack was. Sylvie could count on Maria to be on her side.

Maria scrolled the pictures and made disdainful noises.

‘Wow, look at him. And the dress is hideous.’

‘Yeah, ugly as hell.’

Maria passed back the phone and gave Sylvie an expectant look.

Sylvie was about to tell the whole sorry story when a cake crumb went down the wrong way. It lodged, dry and stubborn, in the back of her throat. She coughed so hard tears came to her eyes as Maria slapped her on the back.

‘Are you all right? Oh gosh, let me get you a drink.’

‘Thanks,’ Sylvie said, wiping at her eyes. ‘There’s juice in the fridge. I forgot to bring it through.’

‘I’ll fetch it.’

Sylvie leant back. What would Maria say? She was bound to be in awe. Maria was already jealous about Sylvie sleeping with Jack and about the secret apartment Jack kept for their clandestine sex sessions. Sylvie had deliberately taken Maria to the luxurious apartment to show it off.

Her friend was taking a long time. Surely she’d been able to find the drinks by now. Sylvie padded along the hallway towards the kitchen. The kitchen door was ajar and she could see Maria at the side of the fridge. Sylvie stopped herself from calling out because Maria was in front of the little board where the family hung their key fobs and it looked as if Maria had just slipped something into her pocket.

Walking in breezily, Sylvie noticed how Maria scooted away and opened the doors of the cabinet nearest to her looking, presumably, for glasses. Except she wasn’t searching for glasses, was she? Maria was pretending to look for them.

‘This place is massive,’ Maria said. ‘How do you remember where everything is? I can’t find the tumblers.’

‘They’re over here.’

While Maria busied herself organising a tray, Sylvie surreptitiously scanned the little hooks and hanging keys. Alice and Jack were both out so they had their own main sets with them. The ones left were for the garden shed and for Jack’s study and spare ones for the offices at Hardman Construction. Was one missing? What on earth had Maria been up to?

Sylvie trailed Maria back to the lounge and all thought of confiding in her friend about the pregnancy was gone. She felt a stab of suspicion. Was Maria one of those weird people who went around collecting other people’s belongings? Kleptomaniacs, weren’t they called? She’d once seen a television programme on it, about a woman who couldn’t resist taking items like teaspoons and ornaments from friend’s houses. Was Maria one of those? Or was there more to it?

‘You’ve gone quiet,’ Maria said. ‘Aren’t you going to tell me what’s on your mind?’

‘Oh it’s nothing important. It can save for later. What do you think about watching a film with our feet up on Alice’s precious coffee table? And they won’t notice if we help ourselves to a bottle of