The Long Deception by Mary McCluskey

Author:Mary McCluskey [McCluskey, Mary]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781542046329
Publisher: Little A
Published: 2018-01-29T22:00:00+00:00

The light was already changing, the sky darkening, when Alison said good-bye to a still worried Liz. Inside the cottage she closed the drapes and switched on lamps. The noises in the cottage, the fridge, the hum of the television recorder, felt vaguely menacing. Alison wondered irrationally why everything seemed to echo and repeat. She could not shake off the feeling that she was far removed from the rest of the world and yet not safe from its dangers.

She had tried to reassure Liz, had said that her chats with Matt were not serious, just meeting for drinks, just catching up, but her friend had not believed her.

“If that were true,” Liz had said, “you would have invited all of us. Me and Simon and Jonathan and maybe Ronnie, too. You’ve still got a stupid crush on him, Ali. Admit it.”

Now, Alison thought over her words. A stupid crush? Was that really all it was?

When the phone rang later in the evening, she jumped.

“I called earlier,” Matt said. “You didn’t answer.”

“I was having lunch with Liz. She picked up the phone, Matt. She recognized the number.”

“What did you tell her?”

“That we might have a drink together. Catch up.”

“And why shouldn’t we? The hearing is so close. We need to talk about it.”

“Is that why you called?”

“No. I called to tell you that I was thinking of you,” he said.

Alison leaned back on the sofa, closed her eyes. Damn.

“You must be alone. Where’s Celine?”

“France.”

Alison sighed. How shabby this was. How ridiculous.

“I can’t do this, Matt. I’m sorry. I can’t be furtive and sneaky like this. Wait until your wife is away. Lie to my oldest friend. I feel like some kind of criminal.”

“We can talk, can’t we? Have a drink together?”

“Then why do we have to be so secretive about it? Friends can have a drink together, can’t they? We don’t have to pretend. It was so awkward with Liz. And with Ronnie, well, it was horrible.”

“I just want to see you,” he said. “Talk with you. Look at you. That’s all.”

She allowed the words to register fully, her heart lifting, and she could think of nothing to say in reply.

“I must go,” he said. “That sounds like Mother’s car. We’ll talk soon.”

Alison closed her phone. Mother’s car. Jesus.

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