The Other Side Of The Wall: A Gripping Psychological Thriller Read online

  “Ah come on, it’s just two games and they were next to nothing.”

  “Sam, it’s not about how much they were – the boys don’t understand prices. But you can’t give them games because you feel guilty for working late every night. It sends all the wrong messages. Just be here at bedtime instead.”

  Sam puts down his fork and looks up at her. “That’s not fair. I’m working late because it’s my job – that’s how we get money.”

  Kate shakes her head. “You can tell yourself that all you want, but you’ve been working later and later since I gave up work – you know you have, this isn’t the first time I’ve said it. And when you are here, your head is stuck in your phone. You may as well not be here at all.”

  “Well, I don’t exactly get a great welcome even when I am here. I may as well be at work. You hardly say a word to me when I come in. Same every night.”

  “Oh Sam, it’s all about you, isn’t it?” She shakes her head again, and walks back into the sitting room, closing the door behind her.

  In the quiet kitchen, at the big oak table of his childhood, Sam sits on his own eating lukewarm beef casserole. He pulls out his phone to look at the Dún Laoghaire house again. Everything will be fine once they move.

  Chapter 10

  Sam – Monday, April 11th

  It’s only when the cushion fort collapses for the fourth time that Sam gives up and sits down on the (cushionless) couch. The boys try to pull him up again but he’s wrecked – he needs five minutes. They’re jumping up and down on front of him now and saying something about hot chocolate but he’s taken out his phone and he’s zoning them out. Just five minutes and he’ll be fine. Five quiet minutes in the company of his phone. Ideally tea too, but that would mean getting up. He really should train Seth to make tea.

  The boys admit defeat and go back to rebuilding their fort.

  “Oh, thank God,” Sam says under his breath, sinking down further into the seat.

  His phone rings – it’s Kate reminding him to put on the pork.

  “The oven’s just preheating,” he lies. “How was the training course?”

  She says it was great, and good to get back into the world of work even for just one day, and that she’s at Pearse Street station now waiting for a DART.

  He hangs up, and another five minutes go by before he can peel himself off the couch to preheat the oven. As soon as he’s up, the boys try to drag him to the fort again. “Wait till the pork is on,” he tells them, then hides in the kitchen with a cup of tea. Ten short minutes later, they pull him back to the game.

  “Right,” he says, “I’m the monster and this is my den – go!”

  Squealing, they get up and run, and he chases them around every room of the house, until the three of them collapse panting and laughing on the beanbag in the boys’ room.

  “Okay, I’ve got to check some work messages now and I’d better take a look at the dinner.”

  He gets up and heads downstairs.

  When Kate arrives in, he’s engrossed in his Twitter feed in the kitchen and doesn’t notice until her keys clatter on the counter. She gives him a peck on the cheek and asks where the boys are. Sam shoves his phone in his pocket and says the boys are upstairs – but she doesn’t hear him – she’s gone through to the sitting room.

  A moment later she’s back, and she’s frowning.

  A Kate-frown that means she’s about to ask some pointed questions.

  “What’s the story with the sitting room – I just found half a banana squashed on the couch and I can see paint on the wall – did you let them paint in there? And why are all the cushions on the floor?”

  “Oh, we were just playing cushion-forts. I didn’t spot the banana or the paint – I’ll clean it up now – you sit down.”

  “Is their bedroom as bad?”

  Sam doesn’t answer.

  “And what’s the story with the washing – please say that’s not the same wash I asked you to hang out?” she asks, pointing at the machine.

  “Sorry, I totally forgot,” he says. “I’ll do it now.”

  “And the dinner?”

  “Yes! The dinner is on – actually it should be just done now,” he says, opening the oven.

  “But where are the potatoes and vegetables?”

  She has her hands on her hips now. This is not good.

  “Um. Was I supposed to do potatoes?”

  “Sam, have you ever heard of anyone having ‘pork steak and nothing’ for dinner?”

  “No, but you didn’t tell me to do potatoes.” Wrong thing to say.

  “Oh God, can I not go out for one day and trust you to keep the place tidy and make the dinner?” She sighs. “Have the boys done their homework?”

  This time he knows better than to answer directly. “You sit down, I’ll make you a cup of tea, and I’ll sort everything. Don’t worry.”

  She goes upstairs to change, muttering under her breath. Minutes later he follows her up with a cup of tea and an apology.

  She relents. “Look, I know it’s hard to get everything done when you’re minding the kids, but that’s what I do every day. Imagine if I just played cushion-forts with them and never cooked dinner or checked their homework?”

  He hangs his head. You don’t argue with Kate when you’re in the wrong.

  “And I get it that living here you can’t help trying to recreate your childhood, but I am not Claire and you are not John, and it’s the 21st century now. Men can cook dinners too.”

  “In my defence, they did have great fun – it was good to have a bit of time with them.”

  “Okay, but next time just do the basics around the house too – please?”

  He nods.

  “And I’m sorry for bringing up your dad. That wasn’t fair.”

  “Don’t worry,” he says, and gives her a kiss.

  At dinner, the boys land him in it when Kate asks how the day went.

  “Did you have lots of fun playing with Dad?”

  “Yeah,” Jamie says, “but he was on his phone a lot too.”

  “Hey! That’s not fair. I played with you guys for hours! I was only on my phone at the end when I was shattered tired.”

  Seth gives him a bit of leeway. “Well, you did play forts with us, and chasing, but you were on your phone while we were painting.”

  “For two minutes – guys, come on!” Sam rolls his eyes at Kate, but she’s not looking over.

  As if jumping on the bandwagon, his phone rings loudly in his back pocket. He pulls it out to a chorus of “No electronics at the table!” from the boys and a look from Kate. He rejects the call and puts the phone in his pocket.

  “Who was it?” Seth asks.

  “Nobody.”

  Kate gives him a funny look. Wrong answer – he should have said it was work.

  He gets up to refill his glass of water and, with his back to the table, sends a quick text.

  Call you later x

  When he sits back down, Kate is watching him. He’s going to have to get a lot better at this.

  Chapter 11

  Sam – Saturday, June 18th

  “Oh my God, look at the big green!” Jamie shouts, bouncing up and down in the back seat.

  “Don’t say ‘oh my God’,” Kate says as she always does, but Sam can hear the smile in her voice.

  Seth is quieter, still unsure about the big move. But having his own bedroom will swing it – no more putting up with Jamie’s toys all over the floor, and no more hyperactive bedtime games when he’s trying to read his book.

  As they turn into the cul-de-sac, Jamie tries to sound out the name on the signpost. “Will-Ow-Valley – is that what it’s called, Mum? I thought you said we were moving to Dún Laoghaire?”

  “Yes, Dún Laoghaire is the town, and Willow Valley is the estate, but it’s Will-Oh, not Will-Ow – does that make sense?”

  “Will-Oh Valley,” Jamie repeats, trying it out for size as they pull into the driveway of Number 26.

  Kate
starts to unbuckle her seatbelt, then stops. “Actually, you’d better park somewhere else – the removal van will need to park in the driveway – well, if it fits.”

  “Ah, we can move when they arrive – will we just go in and show the boys first?”

  “But it’s easier if we move now, then we don’t have to worry about it.”

  “Fine.”

  Sam reverses out. There’s no space on their side of the small cul-de-sac, so he parks outside the house across the road.

  “God, I’d forgotten how small the road is – what do people do when they have visitors?” Kate says. “But, Sam, we can’t park here – this is someone else’s house.”

  “Kate, what do you want me to do? You just asked me to move.”

  “Yes, but not so close to someone else’s driveway! The back of the car is practically on it!”

  “I’m not blocking it – they’d be able to get out if they need to. And once our moving van arrives, I’ll park across our driveway instead. Come on, let’s just go inside.”

  Kate shakes her head but gets out of the car and all four make their way into their new home. The boys run for the stairs to see their rooms – even Seth is excited. Sam can feel it too – the now familiar house is different when he sees it through his children’s first-time eyes. The brown-and-beige stairs carpet will have to go, but Seth and Jamie are shouting about how soft it is compared to the wooden floors they’re used to. The gold-textured wallpaper with paisley print will eventually go too, but Seth says it’s beautiful, running his hand along the wall as he climbs the stairs.

  Kate and Sam follow them up, watching for reactions as they open the first door.

  “Mum, it’s an orange bath!”

  The boys are inside the main bathroom, incredulous at the peach-coloured suite. Kate is laughing now.

  Sam smiles. “It’s technically called ‘peach’, and it was very fashionable back when me and your mum were small kids. Not so much now, but we’ll get a new bathroom eventually.”

  “Why would we need a new one?” Jamie is confused. “This is the most beautiful bathroom I’ve ever seen!” He’s running his hand across the furry toilet-seat cover – also peach.

  Kate winces and pulls his hand away.

  “Come on, let’s go see your rooms,” she says, discreetly pulling off the toilet-seat cover when their backs are turned.

  Jamie runs into the next room and immediately collapses in a dramatic faint on the floor, his current favourite way of expressing delight.

  “Oh my God – sorry – I mean oh my gosh – my room is huge! And it has red flowers on the wall – I love it!”

  “That’s Mum and Dad’s room, Jamie – yours is the next one down, just past the hot press,” Sam clarifies, steering him back out.

  If Jamie is a little less blown away by his slightly smaller room at the front of the house, he doesn’t show it. Standing in the middle of the floor, he turns, arms aloft, mouth open, taking it all in – the blue-rose wallpaper, peeling in places, the matching blue carpet, and the long navy curtains.

  “I love it, but there’s no bed – do people sleep on the floor in new houses?” he asks, lying down to try it out.

  “Your bed is on the way – remember the removal van?” Sam says, sitting down beside him. “So you’ll have the same bed you slept in last night, just in a different room. Come on, let’s see Seth’s.”

  Kate and Seth have gone into the second front bedroom. Bigger than Jamie’s, the theme is similar but this time in matching greens. Cabbage roses on a sage background cover the walls, and the carpet is a seaweed-green colour Sam hasn’t seen on any floor in twenty years. But Seth is smiling. It’s much bigger than his old bedroom in Booterstown and, best of all, it’s for him and him alone. Hoisting himself up onto the windowsill, he looks out and tells his brother he can see the green. Just in time, Kate spots him trying to open the window and runs forward to grab him.

  “Seth! You know better than to open an upstairs window!” She tries it herself but it’s locked.

  “Don’t worry – all the upstairs windows are locked, and I have the keys downstairs – they’re safe,” Sam says.

  “Sorry, Mum,” Seth says. “Anyway, when will my books be here, and my bed?”

  Kate turns to Sam. “Actually, the van should be here by now – do you want give them a call?”

  Sam nods and goes downstairs to get his phone, leaving Kate to show the spare bedroom to the boys. Outside, there’s no sign of the van, but there’s a man standing behind Sam’s car, taking a photo of his registration plate.

  “Everything okay there?” Sam asks, approaching the man, who straightens up and lowers the phone.

  “Is this your car?”

  “Eh, yeah – we’re just moving in. Is something wrong?”

  “You’re parked outside my house, blocking my driveway – I was about to call the local Garda station to have it moved.”

  Seriously? Sam laughs. “Sorry, I’ll move it now.”

  “I’m not sure what’s so funny. You can’t just block my driveway like that.”

  “But it’s not blocking it, it’s just beside it,” Sam says, eying up the position of the car in relation to the entrance to the house. Two people can play the pedantic game. “But I’ll move it now – it was just until the removal van arrived.”

  “Removal van? You can’t drive a big truck up this little road! It’ll have to park down at the green.”

  This time Sam bursts out laughing.

  His new neighbour frowns and pushes up his glasses. “I really don’t see what’s so funny. We’re having a birthday party for my daughter, and people need to be able to drive up the road to drop their children off. They won’t fit if there’s a huge lorry here.”

  “It’s not huge, and it’ll probably fit in our driveway anyway,” Sam says, trying to work out if it would. “But can’t your guests park down at the green? Like, there’s no way the moving people are going to carry a bed and a couch all the way up the road, but surely your guests can walk up?”

  The man shakes his head and throws up his hands. “This is very inconvenient. It’s not how things work around here. You can’t just park where you want and have trucks taking up the whole road. It’s not on.” He folds his arms, and fixes red-rimmed eyes on Sam.

  This isn’t going to be resolved by standing here talking about it, Sam thinks, so he takes out his keys.

  “I’m going to move the car now, and when the van arrives we’ll move the furniture as quickly as we can, so we don’t inconvenience your guests.”

  He should say something like thanks for the warm welcome, but then he’ll just feel bad so instead he gets into the car and closes the door and misses whatever his neighbour says next.

  What a start to settling in – Kate will not be impressed.

  He moves the car back across his own drive, and when he gets out his neighbour has gone inside. Other than a slight rustle of leaves there’s no sound anywhere on the street. There’s no sound indoors either when he goes through the open front door of Number 26. He checks upstairs but they’re not there. Then he sees them through the window – at the bottom of the overgrown garden.

  He follows them outside, stopping to inspect the twisting, winding shrubs and bushes that cover nearly every inch of the garden. How much work will it take to clean this up? And which ones are weeds? Underfoot, he spots what looks like a path of stepping stones, leading down to a garden shed. The bolt is rusted over and it takes an effort to get it open – the door creaks as he pulls it towards him. Inside it’s dark and dusty and there’s no light switch. An old-style push lawnmower stands against the back wall, and a metal toolbox sits on the ground beside it. There’s a pitchfork, and a shovel, and a rake like the one his dad used to have for gathering leaves in the garden in Booterstown. The memory brings a tinge of sadness and he pushes it away. Up high, there’s a shelf with some battered cans of paint, all in various shades of white. Where did the previous owner use those, he wonders – a
part from the reassuringly bland spare room, the house is a 1980s rainbow. The shed floor is dusty, and the small window is covered in cobwebs, but it’s a good size and he’ll be able to fit all four bikes in there once he cleans it up. Blinking in the sun as he walks back out, he pulls the door shut and locks it again, then goes to join Kate and the boys at the bottom of the garden.

  The three of them are standing with their backs to him but Jamie hears him coming. “Dad, look at this – there’s a pond! Can you believe it! Me and Seth are going to swim in it later.”

  “No, you’re not,” says Kate. “Jamie, you wouldn’t actually swim in that, would you? Look at all the algae!”

  “What’s algae?”

  “That green stuff on top of the water,” she says, turning to Sam. “We’ll need to clean the pond. Or maybe drain it and fill it in with concrete?”

  Jamie wraps his arms around her waist. “No, Mum! We love the pond – please don’t!”

  “We’ll see. Either way, you’re not swimming in it. Gross.”

  Seth throws a stone into the pond. Delighted with the new activity, Jamie picks up a handful of stones and throws them in too.