The Magpies: A Psychological Thriller by Mark Edwards
Jamie looked up. ‘So is that what you think of my life? That’s it’s dull. That I’ll have nothing to remember on my death bed? Thanks a lot.’
‘No, no – of course I don’t think that. You’ve got Kirsty. A woman who really loves you and who you love back. You’ve got this fantastic flat. You’re going to have a baby. Those are the really important things, Jamie. You’ve got your nest here. You’re a lucky man. But I’ve never found anyone that I’ve wanted to settle with and grow old beside.’
‘What about Heather? She was crazy about you. For some unfathomable reason.’
He sighed. ‘I really like Heather. She’s gorgeous and she’s really sweet. But it’s not enough. I wouldn’t want to marry her or have a kid with her. I don’t meant to be horrible, but that’s the way it is. And to make things even worse, our relationship could never be a normal one. A couple of days after we started going out, I fell into a coma. She then went into this long period of mourning, followed by delight when I woke up. She’d already imagined a past and a future for us while I was oblivious to my own existence, let alone hers. How could I live up to her fantasy version of Paul? I couldn’t.’
Jamie stood up. ‘Do you want another beer?’
‘I’d love one.’
Jamie went over to the fridge, fetched two more tins of beer and returned to his spot beside Paul. He still felt cold. Even colder now, in fact. He so wanted to feel happy for Paul, to feel glad that he was going to go off and do something he really wanted to do. But all he could think was that he was losing his best friend. Again. Only a minute ago they had been laughing together like they always used to. Now Paul was going away. Jamie knew he was being selfish and immature, but he couldn’t help it. Right now, he needed all the friends he could get.
Paul was about to start talking again when they heard the front door open, rattling a little where it had begun to stick again, the hinges squeaking shrilly. Kirsty came into the room, dropping her bag at her feet. She had taken a taxi from the hospital.
‘Oh.’ She was surprised but pleased. ‘Hi, Paul.’
‘Alright, Kirsty?’
‘Are you boys having a party?’
‘Just a little one.’
She studied them. ‘So have you two kissed and made up?’
Jamie looked away while Paul smiled and said, ‘Yes. We have. Isn’t that right, Jamie?’
He nodded. ‘Yes. That’s right.’
‘Good. I’m glad to hear it. It didn’t seem right, you two not talking.’ She looked at Jamie as if to say, See, I told you he’d get better; that he just needed time.
‘Paul was telling me that he’s going away.’
‘What do you mean?’
Paul stood up and went over to her. ‘I’m going travelling.’
‘Wow. That’s great. How exciting! When are you going?’
‘The day after tomorrow.’
Jamie was shocked. ‘That soon?’’Well, yeah. There’s no time to waste.’
‘And the physio says you’re fit enough?’ Kirsty asked.
‘Says I’m as fit as I’ll ever be. Apparently, my recovery has been quite astonishing. And that’s a direct quote.’
‘Well. That’s fantastic. Have you told Heather?’
‘No.Why should I?’
‘Because she’s still…’ Kirsty rubbed her tailbone and sighed. ‘You know you’ve really hurt her, don’t you?’
‘Yes, but I was just explaining to Jamie–’ He ran briefly through his reasons for breaking up with Heather again.
‘I do understand,’ Kirsty said when he had finished. ‘I’d probably have done the same in your shoes. It’s just a shame that you’re going to leave the rest of us to clear up the mess.’
‘I know, Kirsty. But what else can I do? I mean, I could have tried to give it another go. I could have strung her along for a while. Maybe I could have gone away with the promise that I’d write every week and that eventually I’d return to her arms.’
‘She’d probably have wanted to go with you.’
‘Exactly. And I need to do this on my own. Singular.’ He smiled and touched her stomach lightly. ‘Whereas you are about to become plural.’
‘Well, in six months.’
‘What does it feel like, having another life inside you?’
‘It feels like the best thing ever.’
‘What, better than having Jamie inside you?’
She slapped him playfully. ‘You’re so rude! But it’s nice to have the old Paul back. Not that miserable git we had to put up with in the hospital.’
‘Anyone would be miserable in your hospital.’
‘Up yours.’
Jamie came over and put his arm around Kirsty’s shoulders. He knew this would be the last occasion he saw Paul for a long time. But what Paul had said was true: he had Kirsty and they were going to have a child. He was going to be so busy when the baby was born he probably wouldn’t notice that Paul wasn’t around.
Probably.
They both hugged Paul goodbye at the front door. Jamie kept a wary eye out for Chris, but his car was still absent from its spot, and there was no sign of Lucy either. It was chilly outside; the pigeons on the rooftops opposite huddled together for warmth, puffing up their feathers.
‘We can email each other wherever I am and I’ll no doubt put loads of pics on Facebook, just to make you sick with jealousy.’
The mention of emails made Jamie feel slightly ill. It made him think about work. And Chris. Their intruder.
‘You take good care of her, Jamie. You really are a lucky man, you know. Even if you don’t feel like it all the time.’
Jamie nodded.
‘Right. I’m going to go before I get all soppy and start blubbing. That wouldn’t be a pretty sight.’
‘No.’
They hugged again. Kirsty had tears in her eyes. Jamie felt a hard knot in his throat and tried to swallow it.
‘Take care,’ he said.
‘And you.’
They watched Paul walk off down the hill, then went back inside. Jamie looked around the flat. It seemed a little emptier, even though Paul had only been here an hour. Maybe it was that his life felt a little emptier.
Kirsty said, ‘I’m going to bed.’
‘But it’s only six o’clock.’
‘I know. But I’m so tired. I feel sick, I’ve got a headache and my back hurts.’
‘Do you want me to give you a massage?’
‘That would be lovely.’
She sat on the edge of the bed with Jamie kneeling behind her. She kept her bra on and Jamie had a pang for the days when she would undress completely and lie on her front. He squirted massage oil into his palms, rubbing his slippery hands together to warm them. He pushed his hands over her shoulder blades, moving his thumbs in small circles to penetrate the tense muscle tissue.
‘Hmm, that feels nice.’
‘Good.’ He concentrated on the massage for a few minutes. After a while, he said, ‘Do you want to know what Paul did before he came round here?’
‘Mmm. What?’
‘He went to see Lucy and Chris.’
She turned her head. ‘You’re joking.’
‘I wish I was.’
‘What the hell did he do that for?’
‘He still seems to think they’re alright. He even tried to persuade me of the fact.’
‘Did you tell him about all the things they’ve done?’
‘I’ve told him before. But he still thinks Chris is a really good bloke. And guess what? While I was outside, talking to Paul, Chris came out and said hello to me.’
Kirsty turned around so Jamie had to stop massaging her. ‘What did you say to him?’
‘I didn’t really say anything. I was so shocked I nearly fell over.’
‘You should have told him to get lost.’
‘I couldn’t. Not with Paul there, and them being all matey.’
She exhaled. ‘Maybe it’s a good job Paul is going away.’
??
‘What?’
‘I don’t know. It’s just…maybe Paul’s right. Maybe Chris is an alright bloke. Sometimes, Kirsty, sometimes I feel like all this is going on inside my head. That I’ve imagined half of it. What if we were being really noisy and they were within their rights to complain? Surely the spiders were just spiders, like everyone gets. And maybe I did send that virus, by accident.’
‘No!’ She rolled over, sat up, and grabbed his arms. ‘What about the recording they made of us making love? Did they have the right to do that? And all the junk mail and hoaxes. That was all in our imagination, was it? The rats left outside the front door – I bet that was them. And what about the word written in the dust on your computer screen?’
Jamie rubbed his oily hands together. ‘I meant to ask you about that. Why did you wipe it off? I wanted to show it to that policeman, and it had gone. I looked really stupid.’
‘But I didn’t wipe it off.’
‘Are you sure?’
He breathed in sharply. ‘Maybe I imagined it, then. Maybe it was a hallucination.’
‘But I saw it too.’
‘Maybe we both imagined it.’
‘Jamie, you’re mad.’
‘That’s what I’m afraid of.’
She slapped his face. The crack of her palm against his cheek resounded through the bedroom, bouncing off the walls, echoing in the stunned silence.
He stared at her.
‘Jamie, I’m sorry.’ She wrapped her arms around him, pulled his face into the space where her neck and shoulder met. ‘You mustn’t say things like that, OK? It isn’t in your imagination. It’s them. Lucy and Chris. They’re doing it all. And that’s why we need to get away from here. I’ve decided, Jamie, we should move.’
He struggled out of her grasp.
‘No! We’re not moving.’
‘But Jamie, we can’t bring a child up here. Not with those people downstairs.’
‘No. I won’t give in.’ He jumped off the bed and began to stamp on the floor. He shouted, ‘I won’t give in! I won’t give in!’ And the tears came, flooding out of him, pouring forth, months of pent-up frustration. It had been a day for catharsis. The laughter earlier. Now the tears. He shuddered as he sobbed, and Kirsty held him, stroking his hair as he drenched her with his tears.
‘I won’t give in,’ he whispered.
She held him, and he could feel her chin on his shoulder. ‘OK, for your sake, I’ll give it one more chance.’
Twenty-two
Several weeks later, Kirsty stood naked in front of the mirror, examining herself. For years, she had wanted a flat stomach – achieving it by spending countless hours doing sit-ups – and now that flat ‘ideal’ had gone, replaced by a slight curve: the gentlest of contours, but a contour nonetheless. And she didn’t care. In fact, she felt wonderful. Her hair was shiny, her breasts had swollen and her nipples had darkened. She was amazed by them, thought she looked like a Page Three girl. Jamie was amazed by them too, predictably. She had always thought it was a cliché, that pregnant women glowed. But she felt it, in her skin, deep in her flesh. Apart from the occasional bout of sickness, she loved being pregnant. I’m radiant, she thought, giggling to herself.
Jamie came into the room and stood behind her, put his arms round her, resting his hands on her belly.
‘You’re beautiful,’ he said.
They kissed gently, moving towards the bed. Jamie sat down on the edge and Kirsty leant towards him, her tongue touching his, her fingers unbuttoning his shirt. Some women craved bizarre combinations of food when they were pregnant. Right now, she craved this. She threw Jamie’s shirt aside and he lifted himself up so she could pull down his jeans and boxers. She curled her fingers around his penis, making his breathing become deeper.
‘Lie back,’ she said.
He pushed himself backwards onto the bed and lay down. She leant over him, her soft hair tickling the skin of his chest and stomach. She took the tip of his penis between her lips, ran her tongue over the head. He said her name. She removed it from her mouth and moved up to kiss him on the lips, so he could taste himself. They kissed deeply. He tried to pull her down, but she put her hands on his chest and held him there, flat on the bed.
She positioned herself over him and took his penis in her hand, holding it so she could lower herself onto it, slowly, so it sank into her millimetre by millimetre, until he was fully inside her.
‘Kirsty.’
She moved so, so slowly, her eyes closed. He gently stroked her belly, her large breasts, feeling the novel weight of them in his hands. She licked the tip of her middle finger and put her hand down behind her, between his thighs, sliding the tip of her finger into his anus.
‘Oh Christ.’
He tried to wriggle, but she pushed down on his chest with her free hand, pinning him down. She stretched out her finger and slid it in as far as she could reach.
‘Kirsty.’
He came, shouting as he did so.
She withdrew her finger, leaned forward, kissed him and rolled onto her back. He went to kiss her lips again but she pushed his head down over her belly and towards her thighs, down between her legs.
‘My turn,’ she said.
Jamie drove to work. The first day back after his enforced holiday, he had been terrified. Firstly, he was afraid that they would have decided to sack him after all and, secondly, if they didn’t do that, he was afraid that his colleagues would hate him. He had almost been sick in the lift up to his floor. But the moment he had stepped out of the lift he had seen Mike, who had come straight over to talk to him.
‘Welcome back,’ he said.
‘Thanks. Has my desk been cleared while I was away?’
‘Eh? No, of course not. You don’t think they’d sack you over that, do you?’
‘I was worried they might.’
Chris rolled his eyes. ‘Listen, the management have got more important things to worry about than you and your virus. Have you heard?’
‘What?’
‘The takeover’s definitely going ahead.’
They walked over to their desks and sat down. All around them, people were chatting, gossiping, an electric current of nervous excitement buzzing around the office. Nobody paid any heed to Jamie. He relaxed, felt the knot in his shoulders untwist itself.
‘Has it been officially confirmed?’
‘Not exactly. We had a memo to say that the rumours were correct, that the company was on the verge of accepting an offer from another company, but that we shouldn’t panic, blah blah blah.’
‘Panic about what?’
Mike gave him a funny look. ‘What do you reckon? Our jobs. That’s been the number one topic of conversation this last fortnight. Will there be redundancies? Who’s for the chop? Lots of worried faces around – especially among the management. The word is that we plebs are pretty safe, but the middle managers are going to be – what’s the word? – culled.’
‘Ouch.’
‘Yeah. Ouch, indeed.’
‘And do we know who’s taking over?’
Mike shook his head. ‘Not officially. But I reckon it’s going to be Software Logistics.’
‘That Croydon firm? Really?’
‘I’d put money on it.’
Jamie switched his terminal on. To be honest, he didn’t care who his boss was, as long as they paid his wages and didn’t interfere too much or try to change things for the sake of it. And he was so relieved that he wasn’t a pariah among his colleagues. Now he just wanted to get down to work. Lose himself in it for a while.
At lunchtime, Mike said, ‘So how are things at home? Have you had any more grief from those neighbours of yours?’
Jamie paused. ‘Well, it’s strange. We haven’t. I saw Chris – that’s the bloke downstairs – and he said hello to me. He was quite civil, actually. I was a bit freaked out.’
??
‘But since then, we’ve heard nothing from them. No letters, no hoaxes, no banging on the ceiling. Nothing weird has happened at all.’
Jamie thought back to that day, the day they had said goodbye to Paul. After that day he had felt wrecked, emotionally drained by all the tears and laughter. But he also felt a little better. Their sex life had reignited, although at first he had been worried about harming the baby (Kirsty had to assure him that it would be OK). Even though, unable to help themselves, they had been quite noisy they hadn’t received any complaints. Jamie had even done a bit of DIY, putting some shelves up in the spare room, which was going to be the nursery. He was sure Lucy and Chris would write to them about the hammer blows, or even his footsteps as he walked around stripping and painting the walls, but no. Not a peep from them.
‘Well, maybe they’ve given up,’ Mike said. ‘You never know.’
Jamie smiled. It would be so wonderful if they had given up. Or maybe – just maybe – they felt remorseful about what they had done.
Wouldn’t that be fantastic?
A month had now gone by. Thirty one days without a threat or a complaint. There hadn’t even been any spiders in the flat, although, Jamie thought, that was probably because of the cold weather. As each day went by, he felt himself relax more and more, massaged by this new trouble-free life. He worked on the nursery in the evenings, painting the walls a neutral, sunny yellow. Kirsty spent a lot of time curled up on the sofa, reading; sometimes novels, sometimes books about pregnancy and motherhood. The results of her scan had been good, and she carried the photograph around in her bag, showing it to anyone who was interested. As Jamie painted away in the nursery, and Kirsty brought him a beer, he thought, God, my life is so run of the mill. But he didn’t care. He was pleased.
Paul had emailed them, telling them that he was in Ibiza, working in a restaurant, having a fantastic time and sleeping with another traveller, an American girl called Sam. Jamie wasn’t envious at all. This – right here – was the life he wanted. He still felt tense at times – still worried about the neighbours, still trod quietly – but it was nothing compared to how he had felt a few weeks ago. He knew he had been heading towards a breakdown. He felt like he’d had a lucky escape.