HER SECOND HUSBAND an unputdownable psychological thriller with a breathtaking twist by JANE E. JAMES

Author:JANE E. JAMES [JAMES, JANE E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Joffe Books psychological thrillers and crime
Published: 2023-06-05T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 29

Jim doesn’t know I’ve borrowed the campervan, but I’ve made up my mind that what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. It’s been several years since I last drove, and I can’t pretend to be anything other than terrified. So far, the roads have been clear and at least it’s not raining so the gods are on my side for once. As I pull up — stall more like — outside the pub where Gail keeps her car, the coward in me hopes she won’t be in, but her bright red sports car stands out a mile, acting as a reminder of her single, sexy lifestyle.

Slut is the first word that comes to mind as I scowl at the car. Bitch and liar pile up in my brain next as I climb down from the campervan, remembering to lock it and stowing the key in my pocket. Jim would kill me if anything were to happen to it. Hugging my anorak around me, because out here by the river it’s even colder than in the town, I shove my gloveless hands into my pockets and resist the urge to key the shiny exterior of Gail’s car.

It’s only a two-minute stroll to her narrow boat and as I walk the plankway, which trembles beneath my feet, I toy with the idea of pushing Gail in the dirty water. The Grand Dame, my eye. Who the hell is she trying to kid?

‘Gail! You in there?’ I pound on the wooden doors, decorated with colourful spiritual symbols I don’t understand, nor want to, barely giving her a chance to reply before calling again. ‘Come on, open up. I know you’re there.’

‘Jesus Christ.’ The doors fly open to reveal a sleepy-eyed, messy-haired Gail, still in her barely-there silk pyjamas which does nothing to improve my impression of her. Slut.

‘Fuck’s sake. What time do you call this?’ Gail yawns casually, exposing even more of her plunge bra and crinkly, faked-tanned cleavage as if there’s nothing unusual about my visiting at what is for her the unearthly hour of 9 a.m. ‘What’s up?’ She slurs as if hungover, which wouldn’t surprise me one bit. Everything to excess. That’s our Gail.

I don’t wait to be invited in and push by her, not caring if I’m interrupting one of her regular one-night stands. Once inside, I stand my ground waiting for her to close the doors and come back in. Luckily, there’s no evidence to suggest she has a man over.

‘What’s up with you?’ She demands, lighting a cigarette. ‘Something’s got your knickers in a twist.’

‘Jim told me,’ I spit it out, unable to hold it in any longer, ‘that you tried it on with him. You’ve been chasing after him ever since I went away.’

‘Jim said that?’ Gail smirks and turns her back on me to put the kettle on. The devil in me wants to grab hold of a handful of her dyed hair and yank it.

‘Well?!’ I yell, spit flying from my mouth onto one of her ugly pug cushions which are arranged messily on the sofa.

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