Who is Sarah Lawson: A Captivating Psychological Thriller (19 page)

He didn’t dare speak until he was sitting in her car. He still felt weak and found it easier to be swept along on the tide of this nightmare rather than struggle against it. Eventually, as they drove in the direction of his flat, he said, “Are you ready to tell me what this is all about?”

She drove on without glancing in his direction.

“Let me take you home first then I’ll explain. We’re nearly there.”

Realising that the best course of action would be to accept his fate and wait for her explanation, he closed his eyes and spent the rest of the journey in silence.

Everything was as he’d left it, untidy and lived in. A coffee cup and plate stood on a side table, the remains of a half eaten pizza having attracted a few hungry flies. In the kitchen, he knew there would be a sink full of unwashed dishes and that his bedroom would show traces of the last night he and Rowena had spent together before she left for her spa weekend.

It was Monday morning, Rowena would be returning to her flat later in the day. He hadn’t heard from her as they’d both decided phone calls were a ‘no no’ and that each should enjoy themselves without worrying too much about what the other was doing. What would she think when she saw the results of his Stag night?

Sarah Lawson sat down opposite him. “Shall I make you a cup of tea or something?”

“No. I just want an explanation,” Owen replied trying to keep a lid on his anger.

“I’m sorry about Andy. He got hold of the wrong end of the stick. He has a nasty temper. I’d no idea he’d come after you.”

“What about the lies? He thought I’d asked you to marry me, for God’s sake.”

“As I said, somewhere along the line, he got things wrong.”

Owen’s head was thumping with a staccato drumbeat. He pressed his palm to his temple. “I still don’t understand why he attacked me. The man must be insane.”

“I think it was a combination of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. He’d had far too much to drink. I know it’s not an excuse but the reason I pretended to be your fiancée this morning at the hospital was so that you’d see me. I thought if I used my real name you’d refuse.”

“Do you blame me?”

“No, perhaps not. Anyway, I needed to see you to plead with you not to press charges. The police have arrested Andy.”

“They have?”
Owen was even more confused, as far as he’d been aware they’d been alone when the attack had taken place. There were no witnesses; it would have been his word against Lawson’s.

“Apparently one of your friends, Hamish someone or other, grabbed Andy as he tried to leave the washroom and kept hold of him while he phoned the police.”

Owen attempted a weak smile but the pain in his jaw restricted his movement. Hamish, six foot five of pure muscle was a force to be reckoned with. “And you want me to forget about all this?”

She looked down at her hands. “It’s all my fault, but I don’t want Andy’s family to suffer; there’d be a court case, his name would be plastered all over the local newspapers and with you being so well known the Nationals and the Television News Channels are bound to get hold of it.”

Owen sighed; he didn’t want to get mixed up in publicity of this sort either, especially not before his wedding. He’d have to make up a story for Rowena, mistaken identity, anything that sounded reasonable and tell the same story to his friends.

“And if I do this, you’ll promise to leave us alone? No more phone calls, no more pretending to be Rowena and no more nonsense about you and me being a couple.”

She nodded. Her head was still lowered so he couldn’t see her eyes. He picked up the telephone and rang the number of the investigating officer on the card Sarah had handed him.

Afterwards, Owen stood at the window and looked down into the street. He saw her car pull away from the curb and once again prayed that it would be the last time he’d see her. But it suddenly occurred to him that her hair was now the same colour as Rowena’s and that simple fact sent a cold shiver down his spine.

Half an hour later, his mobile rang. It was his fiancée. “Did you have a good weekend?” Rowena asked

He grunted evasively and said that he’d missed her.

“Me too. But I must admit I feel a million dollars after all that pampering. I’ll be over this evening, after I’ve unpacked. Then you can see what I mean.”

The thought of her hands touching his body made him wince. How was he going to explain the mess he was in? After he put the phone down, he went into the bedroom, stripped off his clothes and inspected the result of Lawson’s attack. His face looked as if he’d gone twelve rounds with a heavyweight prize-fighter and the bruises on his body ranged from pale yellow to deep purple and as for the cut, where he’d been stabbed by a broken bottle, the scar on his leg was livid and held together by black knotted stitches. That might be easier to account for, falling back on a broken bottle, whilst drunk; it sounded feasible enough.  Would it seem reasonable that a perfect stranger had suddenly mistaken him for someone else, though? Then there was why he’d chosen not to press charges; how was he going to get out of that one?

In the bathroom Owen ran a hot bath and lowered his aching body into the water. As he closed his eyes, he tried to think of an explanation which would satisfy Rowena, but he was spinning around in circles where nothing made any sense.

Rowena’s shock at seeing his injuries reduced her to fussing over him like a mother hen. She accepted his story about a fight breaking out in the club without question and, after making some disparaging remarks about the state some people got into when drunk, focused on the problem of how he was going to look in two weeks time. Nevertheless, Owen could see that she thought he was mad not to press charges in spite of the unwanted publicity.

“Most of the bruises should have faded by then, but those lacerations will take a time to heal. Luckily the worst of them will be hidden by your suit so our wedding photos should be OK.” She stroked his cheek. “I can see I’ll have to make sure you don’t get into more trouble before our big day. Why don’t you come over to my place and let me spoil you until then?”

Tempting as her offer was, he shook his head. “Too much to do here, sweetheart; besides, remember it’s unlucky to spend the night together before the wedding so I’d have to come back here at some point. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.”

“In that case, I promise to pop over as often as possible. At least things have settled down at work and I should be able to take some time off to oversee the final arrangements.”

“There you are then; you’ll have enough to do.”

When Rowena eventually left him alone, he took a couple of painkillers and went to bed. Putting on a brave face had left him feeling grim. He closed his eyes but his aching body wouldn’t let him sleep. He kept seeing Sarah Lawson’s face. Finally, he drifted off to sleep but dreamed he’d married Sarah and that he couldn’t find Rowena to tell her it had all been a mistake. The distant sound of the telephone ringing woke him. He’d unplugged the bedroom extension but could hear the answer phone connecting in the living room. Andy Lawson’s hesitant voice drifted towards him.

“I’d just like to say sorry, and thanks for not pressing charges. Sarah’s explained and I know I overreacted.” There was a beat. “I, er, well she’s vulnerable and she
is
my sister. Anyway, thanks.”

Owen lay back and looked at the ceiling. It was the second time he’d heard Sarah described as vulnerable; Megan had said the same thing. It wasn’t a word he would have used to describe her, devious, manipulative and strong-willed sprang to mind; he wondered if he knew her at all.

He started to think about the events leading up to Lawson’s attack. At first there hadn’t been the slightest indication that Sarah had wanted to be anything other than a mate, although he now realised that it was naive of him not to have foreseen the problems that could have arisen by him staying over at her flat. Then there was the night of Megan’s party. If only he could remember what had happened. She’d led him to believe they’d made love but for the life of him he had no idea whether that was a fact or invention on her part. However, he was certain that at no time had he ever expressed the intention of them having a relationship based on anything other than friendship and at no time, drunk or sober, had he ever suggested marriage; it was just too ludicrous to even consider. So why had she let her brother believe he’d let her down and why did Lawson and Megan believe that she was vulnerable?

Two days before the wedding Rowena arrived with his wedding suit. “I thought I’d pick it up for you to save you a journey. I must admit that you look better now, thank God.” She kissed his mouth and for the first time Owen didn’t wince in pain. “Now everything’s in order, all we have to do is sit back and enjoy it.”

They were in the middle of eating their evening meal when she told him about the phone calls. “I’ve been having a few odd calls lately. I think someone must have mistakenly got hold of my number and when they ring they realise it’s not the person they were expecting, they put the phone down. I’d thought of changing it but it would cause too much hassle at the moment, so many people have my number, especially the wedding planner etc.”

Owen held his breath; it couldn’t be.

“I just wish whoever it is would speak and then I could put them right but after I answer the line goes dead. It’s most unnerving.”

“Perhaps it’s as you said – a wrong number.”

“That’s what I thought until yesterday.”

Owen waited, his heart pounding against his ribs.

“I was in the middle of packing a case for our honeymoon, just putting in things that don’t crease
and the like, when the phone went. This time I distinctly heard the sound of a cat meowing followed by a woman’s voice before the phone was put down.”

“What did
she say?”

“Well her voice was a bit muffled but I thought she said ‘down Bibi or Tibby’. I’m not really sure.”

A vision of a tabby cat called Bibi rubbing itself up against his legs on the night he’d slept over at Sarah’s swam before him. So she was still playing games; his only hope now was that once he was married, all this nonsense would stop.

Rowena stayed over at his place that night and the following day they drove to their favourite restaurant for lunch. “This is the last time we’ll see each other before tomorrow,” Rowena said getting into the car.

“Why don’t you let me drive?” Owen suggested.

“No problem; just rest that leg, you don’t want to open up any of those scars before they heal properly.”

“But….”

“But me no buts as my old Granny used to say,” Rowena said
, as she smiled at him and drove into the line of traffic.

Owen was awake before the phone rang. Premonitions are all very well and good after the event; people say ‘I knew that was going to happen’ but foresight is a gift not nearly as prevalent as the alternative. Nevertheless, in spite of the sunshine and clear blue sky, even before the telephone began to ring, he knew that the day was going to end in disaster.

He picked up the phone. It was Rowena. “You’re not going to believe this,” she was talking quickly, running her sentences into one as if she couldn’t wait to spit out the words. “Our wedding’s been cancelled. I rang to confirm that the flowers had arrived. The receptionist said that I’d phoned earlier and told them the wedding was off. I said they must have made a mistake and I’d made no such phone call, but they were adamant. Owen, are you still there?”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“I’ve rung as many guests as I could, lucky we decided to make it a small ‘do’. The Manor has a cancellation in three week’s time and so I booked us in then. What do you think?”

“I don’t see what else we can do.”  Owen put his hand to his eyes to wipe away a trickle of sweat. It was a sick joke. How could he make her stop?

“The photographer is going mad. I rang him to cancel and he’s insisting that we pay him in full for the day, including the cost of the album.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“ I know. I told him that was what the deposit was for and that his had been a big enough one. But he went off on a tirade about bankruptcy for goodness sake. He said he was relying on the work to keep him afloat. He was furious and said he can’t make it in three weeks time so he’s going to be out of pocket.”

Owen sighed. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll have a word with him. What I don’t understand is why the Manor would cancel on just a phone call. I mean anyone could ring up and say they were you.”

“That’s just it. They said, I’d called in to confirm the cancellation and to collect the wedding cake.”

“That can’t be right, surely?”

“They sounded certain. I know it’s a busy time for them and I suppose they are trying to cover up their incompetence but even so….”

Drumming his fingers on the bedside table, Owen said, “We’ll get through this. Look on it as a set back, we’ll sort out this mess and make sure that nothing stops us getting married in three weeks’ time.”  As he put down the phone, Owen frowned. He was determined to put an end to this right away. She’d gone too far this time. First he rang the photographer trying to explain that neither Rowena nor he had been responsible for cancelling the wedding.

“Who is then?” He was furious.

“I can’t say for sure but I’ve got a pretty good idea that it’s a woman called Sarah Lawson.”

“ Great. Where can I find her?”

“Won’t do any good. I can’t prove it was her.”

“You are joking?”

“I wish.”

Putting the phone down he looked up her number.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Owen. This is beginning to sound like a vendetta. I haven’t cancelled your wedding, why would I?” she sounded offended.

“Where do I begin? Let’s see. Oh yes, getting your brother to beat me up because he thought we were getting married, posing as Rowena to the hospital staff, and then there’s the fire at my cottage…”

The line went dead. He tried to ring the number again but it was engaged. He was in no mood to leave it. Arriving at her flat he kept his finger on the bell until she finally opened the door. Her eyes were red-rimmed.

“I didn’t do any of it. How could I? I’d never do anything to harm you, Owen. You must know that.”

For the first time he could see what they meant. She looked vulnerable. “Should I?

Of course, I admit that I wish things had turned out better for us after Megan’s party but I’m not the vindictive person you’re making me out to be.”

“
So you are telling me you didn’t visit the Manor and cancel our wedding arrangements?”

“Is that what they said I did?”

“Not exactly; they said Rowena did.”

She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of the dressing gown like a small child, sniffed then faced him. “Well then that’s your answer isn’t it? Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to get dressed and forget all of this”

Outside her flat, Owen screwed up his eyes in the bright sunshine. Her indignation had sounded plausible. He was confused. For the first time a shadow of a doubt crossed his mind – was there the slightest possibility that Rowena had been lying and if so, why?

Their guests were notified of the change of date and time by email. Rowena still had the dress, another cake was made and Guy, a photographer friend of Mark Furnish, agreed to fill in for them.  As the day approached Owen began to feel distinctly uneasy. Rowena was subdued; there was none of the frenetic anticipation that the previous Stag and Hen nights had generated. Ten days before the event was due to take place Rowena telephoned to say that she had a cash buyer for her flat. A shiver ran down Owen’s spine. It was just like the film fatal attraction – he could imagine her sitting in the lounge waiting to discuss the sale, as innocent as you like.

“Owen
are
you listening?” Rowena sounded cross.

“ Yes of course, that’s great.”

“You’ll come over then?”

“What?”

“There I knew you weren’t listening. I said, will you come over tonight and help me show my buyer around, talk over the finer details of the sale etc.,”

It was like he was a hamster on a wheel; he couldn’t stop the cycle of events. He knew Sarah Lawson would be waiting for him and he had no choice but play her game.