The Whisper

by Sheryl Browne

Genres: Noir; Crime Fiction; Psychological Thrillers; Suspense

Synopsis

She told my little boy a secret and now he’s gone… Tucking her little boy Ollie into bed one night, Sarah notices his beloved teddy bear, which she bought him when he was born, is missing and in its place is a new toy given to him by her ex-husband’s new girlfriend, Laura. When she asks Ollie about it, he begins to shift uncomfortably, before whispering ‘Laura told me a big secret and she said I can never tell you’. Sarah’s heart sinks. But when she raises her concerns, nobody wants to listen. To everyone else, Laura is the perfect stepmother and Sarah is just the jealous ex-wife. But Sarah knew the moment she met Laura she couldn’t trust her, from her overly perfect stepmother act to the way she evaded questions about her own history. Soon Ollie is asking to spend more time with his dad and Laura, and shrinking away from Sarah. Then, when she calls to him in the garden one day, Ollie doesn’t answer back. The garden is silent. Ollie’s sandpit is empty. Ollie has disappeared. If you love a book that keeps twisting and turning, then you’ll love My Husband’s Girlfriend – it’s guaranteed to keep you up all night. Perfect for fans of Claire McGowan, Shalini Boland and Lisa Jewell. What readers are saying about My Husband’s Girlfriend : ‘ Kept me glued to the pages and dying to know what would happen next… The ending was a whopper and definitely jaw-dropping. Had me totally gripped throughout.’ Carla Kovach, author, 5 stars ‘ Fantastic… The perfect domestic thriller with an unforgettable twist.’ NetGalley reviewer, 5 stars ‘ Absolutely gripping read! A superb twist and chilling in every way!’ Goodreads reviewer, 5 stars ‘ I couldn’t stop reading until I reached the shocking ending… A brilliant, thrilling story.’ Goodreads reviewer, 5 stars ‘Twists and turns from the beginning… I found it hard to put down.’ Goodreads reviewer, 5 stars ‘Definite page-turner… I was gripped from the first page through to the end.’ NetGalley reviewer, 5 stars ‘Such a fantastic twisty read!!!! ’ Goodreads reviewer, 5 stars ‘ I raced through it in an afternoon.’ Goodreads reviewer, 5 stars What readers are saying about Sheryl Browne: ‘ Oh my goodness I can finally breathe!! What an amazing, addictive, totally gripping read this was… you will not be able to put it down!!! ’ Goodreads reviewer, 5 stars ‘ Wow! Wow! Wow! Wow! What a rollercoaster of a ride that story was, bloody brilliant!… If you enjoyed The Girl on the Train and Gone Girl then this story is for you! ’ Between The Pages Book Club, 5 stars ‘Phew… Goosebumps, shivers down my spine and the hairs on the back of my neck were standing on end, that’s how good this book is.’ Goodreads reviewer, 5 stars ‘ Stunning… Gripping, tense and suspenseful… a heart-in-mouth and pulse-racing realistic thriller… I loved it.’ Goodreads reviewer, 5 stars ‘ I'm speechless… it is just that amazing.’ Rachel’s Random Reads, 5 stars ‘Woah! This book was crazy good… Wow, I feel out of breath after reading this! Absolutely sucked me in, I was totally captivated and couldn't put this one down… an incredible read… blew my mind . ’ Bonnie’s Book Talk, 5 stars ‘ An unputdownable read.’ By The Letter Book Reviews, 5 stars ‘ Clear some room in your diary, you will not want to put this down!! ’ Goodreads reviewer, 5 stars ‘ I read it in less than a day, I HAD to know what happened, to who and when!!!!… 10/10.’ Goodreads reviewer, 5 stars

Release date: April 7, 2021

Publisher: Bookouture

Print pages: 350

Sample

‘Wake up!’ A woman’s voice, fraught with anxiety, floats on the edge of her consciousness. Ignoring the excruciating pressure in her chest, she continues to search. Desperately. Blindly. She can’t find him. She has to.

‘You need to wake up!’ She feels a hand on her forearm, shaking her, trying to drag her back.

No! she screams silently. I can’t! He’s here. I can feel him. I need to find him.

‘You have to get up!’ the woman hisses. ‘You have to …’

A strange whooshing, gurgling sound drowns out the agitated voice. The pressure increases, causing her blood to pump frantically. Her head begins to throb. Her heart thrashes – thud, thud, thud – a dull drumbeat in her chest.

‘Can you hear me? I know you can hear me. Wake up, will you?’

No, please … I can’t leave him. I won’t leave him. She blinks wildly around, but the grit and the dirt someone is shovelling into the water burns her eyes. She can’t see. Nothing but deep, dark, impenetrable red. Panic engulfs her. And then he’s there, an arm’s stretch in front of her. He’s moving away, floating, swirling; dancing like a fragile anemone. She tries to follow, but her lungs, bursting within her, scream at her to draw air. She can’t reach him. She tries to hold on to the essence of him, but he’s drifting further away, fading into the distance like a soft white djinn.

And then he’s gone. And the voice is right next to her, insistent, a demented buzzing bee in her head. ‘For God’s sake, wake up! The police are here.’

She chokes out a strangled sob, snapping her eyes open as the quilt is stripped from her body.

‘You need to get dressed.’ The woman she thought she knew, but doesn’t know at all, scans her eyes urgently, her own tear-filled and anguished, yet holding a warning. ‘They want to talk to you.’

She watches her leave, tries to hold onto the fragments of her dream, which hover tauntingly on the periphery of her memory. Scrambling from her bed, she searches for her dressing gown, but it’s not there. Not anywhere. Glancing quickly around, her heart thrashing, she grabs a sweatshirt from the bedroom chair, tugs it on and reaches to pull her hair from the back of it. It’s damp, hanging in rat’s tails, as it does if she showers and goes to bed without drying it. But she didn’t do that. Did she? Her mind is fuzzy, a headache forming, pinpricks of sharp white light scorching her eyes. She can’t remember. Why can’t she remember?

With trembling hands, she reaches for her jeans and pulls them on, then pushes her feet into her slippers. Muted voices drift up from the lounge as she slowly descends the stairs: a male voice, a woman’s voice; wretched with grief. Her legs leaden, her chest pounding, she places the flat of her hand to the partially open door and pushes it open.

A female police officer stands. ‘Hello.’ She offers her a smile as she takes a faltering step inside. ‘We’re told you took a sleeping tablet last night.’ Her eyes are kind, curious, assessing. ‘Are you okay to talk to us?’

She nods, tries to smile back, but her facial muscles are as frozen as she feels inside. Goosebumps rise over her skin as reality sinks in.

She wasn’t dreaming.

Sarah could feel Joe’s eyes on her as, stunned, she reread the text she’d just received from her ex. ‘Problem?’ he asked.

‘No,’ she said evasively. ‘Not really.’ Trying to digest the words, she glanced over to where her little boy was throwing his soft football across the pub garden and galloping gleefully after it. ‘Careful, Ollie,’ she called. ‘Don’t go too far from the table, sweetheart.’

‘I’ll get him.’ Placing his pint down, Joe was on his feet as Ollie charged on. At three years old, coming up to four, he was definitely a handful. ‘Come on, mate.’ Scooping him up, Joe headed for the ball and kicked it back towards Sarah. ‘Let’s go and have another drink and then we’ll practise some goal kicks. What do you say?’

Despite the worrying text, Sarah laughed as Ollie answered with a giggling ‘Yes.’ This was her and Joe’s first date since they’d gone out together years ago at school, and she didn’t want to spoil it, which going on about her failed relationship certainly would. They were just having a casual drink together, each of them preferring not to read anything too serious into it. They’d broken up at just eighteen, and both had relationships go wrong in between. Now they were treading carefully; Sarah more than Joe possibly, since she had Ollie to consider. They’d both changed since they’d first dated, inevitably, but it was reassuring that Joe seemed fundamentally the same, considerate and caring. He’d spent a good hour with Ollie, playing with Duplo, before they’d left this evening, while – not sure how one did dating any more – Sarah had taken her time making herself presentable enough to be seen out in public. He’d wanted Ollie to feel at ease with him, he’d said, reminding her why she’d once loved him, and causing her a pang of regret at having lost him.

Seating Ollie on the bench table and collecting up his beaker, Joe passed it to him and picked up his own drink. ‘Cheers,’ he said, clinking with him and taking a glug.

‘Cheers,’ Ollie said manfully, and did likewise.

Sarah smiled and took a sip of her wine. Joe really was good with him. She couldn’t believe he didn’t have children of his own. His wife hadn’t wanted them apparently, which had become a problem between them. Joe had been glad of it in the end, he’d said. It had made things less complicated when he’d discovered his wife had been stuck on her ex. When he’d talked about it, he had smiled in the c’est la vie way he did whenever he wanted people to believe something didn’t bother him. He’d clearly been devastated at finding his wife was cheating on him, though. Sarah had seen the pain in his eyes.

‘I think you’ve won him over.’ She glanced again at Ollie, who was now emulating Joe’s every move, planting his beaker back on the table and twirling it around as Joe did with his glass.

‘I’m obviously irresistible,’ Joe said with a wink. ‘So, is everything okay?’ He nodded towards her phone.

‘Yes,’ Sarah said quickly, though she didn’t feel very okay. She felt bewildered. Do you mind if I bring Ollie to meet Laura? her ex had asked.

Since she’d never even met the woman, Sarah had had no idea how to respond. She’d had to steel herself to text him back. It’s serious then?

Steve had taken a minute, then, Yes, he’d replied. We’re thinking of living together. Laura has her own place, so it makes sense for me to move in there.

Sarah felt as if she’d been hit by a thunderbolt. He’d only been going out with this Laura for a few months. He hadn’t even found himself a place to live yet; he was still crashing at his mother’s, for goodness’ sake. Had it really taken him such a short time to move on? She felt cheated on – ridiculously, since she and Steve weren’t together any more. She also felt inadequate, as if the failure of their relationship had been all down to her, which was definitely ridiculous. They simply hadn’t been compatible. Steve was so laid-back sometimes he was horizontal, which had been part of the problem between them. It had taken her a while to realise that his lack of involvement might have something to do with the fact that he hadn’t been ready to make the crucial decision to commit, despite the fact that they had a child together.

And then came his father’s stroke. Steve, who was close to him, had been distraught. Sarah should have been there more for him, but she’d been struggling herself to look after Ollie whilst also working full time. She’d been so tired, and looking back, she supposed she’d needed support too, especially after an early miscarriage, which, since Steve was dealing with so much emotionally, she hadn’t mentioned. She’d told herself she could cope. Both of them exhausted and emotional, they’d ended up arguing. Eventually, they hadn’t even argued. They’d simply stopped communicating.

Sarah shook herself. She hated dwelling on the past. She had Ollie, a future to look forward to. It had come out of the blue, though; Steve suddenly making the momentous decision to move in with someone else had rocked the foundations of the life she was trying to rebuild for her and her child.

‘Another drink?’ Joe asked, indicating her glass – which she’d just emptied rather too quickly, she realised. ‘I thought you might want to cheer us on rather than get involved in the footie practice, since you’re wearing heels.’

Sarah looked down at her feet. The shoes were wedges, but too high to run around a pub garden in. Should she have another drink? She didn’t want to end up tipsy in charge of her son. A small one couldn’t hurt, though. She’d hardly been out since splitting with Steve – thus the great ‘what to wear’ dilemma. And she was with Joe, a police officer, who really was one of the kindest people she knew. She could relax a little, surely? Let her hair down and enjoy herself? ‘Why not?’ She smiled, grateful that he was taking Ollie under his wing while she was feeling so distracted. ‘I’ll have another white wine, please. A large one.’

‘Sure?’ Joe asked. ‘I wouldn’t want you to think I was plying you with alcohol.’ He was joking, but Sarah noted the concern in his eyes; a myriad of rich forest greens that conveyed his every emotion.

‘Positive,’ she said, her own eyes gliding over him. She doubted the thought would enter Joe’s head, but she couldn’t deny that the prospect of making love with him was tempting, curling into his firm body afterwards and lying safe in his embrace as she had done years ago. Why had they stopped going out together? Different lives and aspirations, she supposed. Joe had gone off to his police training course in Worcester, while she’d applied to complete her Level 3 in canine care, working one day at the dog rescue trust in Evesham. Somehow their various commitments took over and life ran away with them. They’d moved on. Sarah had loved Steve, thought he’d loved her. She would never regret her relationship with him. Without him, she wouldn’t have Ollie, who was her world, but she did wonder now how she’d ever let Joe go. ‘I’ll try not to go over on my wedges or do anything else to embarrass you,’ she added with a teasing smile.

‘I doubt there’s anything you could do that would embarrass me, Sarah.’ Giving her a mischievous wink, Joe moved to help Ollie, who was in the process of scrambling off the bench after his ball. For all her worries – the frightening prospect of single parenthood, Steve now moving on so swiftly he obviously hadn’t paused to draw breath – she was content in that moment, watching this capable man filling the gap in Ollie’s life. Thinking she might be wise to give herself some breathing space, she hadn’t been contemplating going out with anyone again so soon, but maybe Joe was just the man she needed, someone she could depend on, with no baggage or secrets in his closet.

‘Joe?’ someone called behind him as he stood at the bar. Turning around to see who it was, he almost wished he hadn’t.

‘Fancy meeting you here,’ his ex-wife said, her expression somewhere between pleased and shocked.

She wasn’t half as shocked as he was. The last time he’d seen her was when he’d stuffed a few clothes in a holdall and walked out three months ago, wishing to God he’d had the strength to do it sooner. Courtney had wanted to talk things through. Joe hadn’t. Having witnessed her with her ex the night before, he’d doubted very much he would be able to be civil. It was a work meeting, she’d said, which was bullshit. He’d known way before then that she was cheating on him. He hadn’t realised how spectacularly, though. She and her ex both worked in the glitzy world of advertising, so she’d always had an excuse for seeing him. The man drove a fancy car, a BMW Z4 sport model, the kind of car Joe could only ever dream of. The car he’d eventually realised they were having sex in – he hadn’t needed to be a detective to work that out. Following her a few times when she’d gone out dressed to kill had given him all the evidence he needed. The bloke enjoyed illicit sex, it seemed; since he was with someone else and Courtney was married, shagging her qualified, obviously. When he’d eventually caught them in the act, Joe felt as if he’d been kicked in the gut. Parked in a secluded spot, they were fucking over the bonnet. Not much room in the back, he’d supposed, feeling sick to his soul. He’d got then why she’d never wanted to start a family. She wasn’t in love with him. She never had been. He’d been the bit of rough she’d fancied, that was all, possibly an attempt to make her ex jealous. Somehow they’d ended up getting married. It had been a volatile relationship. It was bound to be, he realised looking back, when it had been so one-sided.

‘You’re looking good,’ she said now, her eyes – meticulously made up as always – roving leisurely over him.

‘You too,’ he responded with a short smile. She usually did, he reminded himself, dressing in the tightest of clothes to show off her figure. She was showing it off now, wearing slim-cut jeans and a skin-hugging top. Courtney always knew how to turn heads.

‘So how are you?’ she asked, stepping towards him.

‘Fine,’ he said. Better for not constantly doubting myself, he didn’t add. ‘You?’

‘Okay. You know …’ She shrugged, her gaze flitting down and back. ‘Are you with someone?’ She glanced curiously around.

Joe considered. ‘A friend,’ he said eventually, not wanting to bring Sarah, who was everything Courtney wasn’t – natural and caring – into the conversation.

‘Ah.’ She nodded knowingly, a flicker of regret in her eyes.

‘What brings you to this neck of the woods?’ he asked, assuming she and the hotshot were slumming it, since they usually met in more salubrious places than a local pub with a beer garden. He hoped he didn’t run into the bastard. He still felt sorely tempted to deck him.

‘Girls’ night,’ she said, waving over her shoulder.

‘Oh, right.’ Joe was surprised. Courtney didn’t generally do girls’ nights. Not her type of thing, she’d said. Far too rowdy.

‘We should meet up sometime,’ she suggested. ‘Have a chat.’

A chat? Right. Joe smiled cynically. ‘I’m not sure we have anything to chat about, Courtney. Do we?’

She glanced down again. He supposed she had the good grace to look contrite, even if she wasn’t. Admitting she was wrong wasn’t generally Courtney’s thing either.

‘There’s the apartment,’ she reminded him. ‘We should probably put it on the market at some point, assuming you don’t want to—’

‘I think we can pretty much sort that out on the phone,’ Joe cut in. ‘I’d better go.’ He nodded towards the rear exit. ‘I have someone waiting.’

‘Your friend,’ she said with an enigmatic smile.

‘That’s right.’ Giving her another short smile back, he turned away.

‘I’ll ring you,’ she called after him.

‘Do that,’ he said. He didn’t look back. He had no intention of making small talk with the woman who’d ripped his heart from inside him. He wanted to move on.

He was leading Ollie away from the bench ready to play football when he noticed Courtney coming out of the pub, also via the rear entrance. She stopped, looking actually sad as she glanced from Sarah to Ollie, whose hand Joe had firmly in his, and then back to him. Was that what the flash of regret he’d seen was all about, he wondered; the fact that she’d realised she might have wanted kids after all, a family? Wasn’t likely to have them with the hotshot, was she? Might cramp his style.

‘Who was that?’ Sarah asked, noticing him watching her as she headed off.

‘No one,’ Joe said, turning his attention back to Ollie. ‘Just someone I thought I knew. Turns out I didn’t.’

She actually had managed to embarrass him. Joe had looked taken aback when, once Ollie was tucked safely in bed with his snuggle bunny, she’d slipped between him and the coffee maker and pressed her mouth over his. He’d soon reciprocated, his tongue finding hers, his hands tracing the contours of her body. When they’d paused for breath, though, the look in his eyes had been troubled. ‘Are you sure about this?’ he’d asked worriedly.

‘Yes. Why? Aren’t you?’ Thinking he might not fancy her any more, that he was just trying to be a friend to her when she needed one, Sarah had felt her self-esteem plummet.

‘Of course I am,’ he’d said softly, undeniable heat now in his eyes. ‘It’s just … Don’t you think it might be a little too soon, for you, I mean?’

‘No, absolutely not,’ she’d assured him, her mouth drawn greedily back to his, her hands finding his buttons, the firm flesh under his shirt. She’d practically undressed him.

And now here she was in her kitchen in the cold light of the morning after, wondering what on earth she’d been thinking. Turning on the kitchen tap, she filled a glass with water and glugged it down. She liked Joe, a lot. So why the bloody hell had she compromised him?

The sex had been amazing, for her anyway, no-holds-barred passionate. She hadn’t seen exploding white lights in a long time. Tracing her spine softly with his thumb as he’d held her afterwards, he’d said he’d often thought of her, wondering what might have been if they’d stayed together. He clearly did still care for her, possibly wanted more than the occasional date. But Sarah wasn’t sure she could give more. Not yet. She had a child and it complicated things. Ollie would be confused, imagining she’d moved a new man into his life to replace his father.

Steve hadn’t had any such qualms, though, had he? A fresh sense of dismay washed through her as she recalled the text he’d sent her telling her he was busy making plans for a future without her. Who was she, she wondered, this woman he’d fallen so quickly in love with? Sarah had no doubt she would be everything she herself wasn’t: slim, confident, beautiful, with perfectly behaved hair. Her hand went to her own hair, a mad crop of mousy curls that refused to be tamed no matter what she did.

Stop. She pulled herself up, determined not to go down that road. Her self-esteem was obviously flagging again.

Whoever this woman was, and however suddenly involved with her Steve was, surely he didn’t think she would just hand Ollie over to her care knowing nothing about her? A pang of guilt tugged at her conscience as she realised she should have mentioned that she’d become involved with Joe. The difference was, though, that she knew Joe; she’d practically grown up with him. She would trust him implicitly with her son. This woman had only recently come into Steve’s life. How much of her history did he actually know? And why the urgent need to introduce her to Ollie? She wouldn’t let him use their son, involve him in his life only when it suited him to make him look good. She huffed self-righteously, and then immediately felt bad. Steve would never do anything to hurt Ollie. If anyone was using someone, it was her.

Her eyes flicked to the ceiling. She could hear Joe moving around, obviously up and getting dressed. Sending Steve a quick message – We need to have a chat. Will call you – she glugged another glassful of water, attempting to dilute the wine she’d consumed last night, and then dashed up the stairs.

Meeting Joe coming out of her bedroom, his shoes in his hand and clearly making an effort not to wake Ollie, she couldn’t help but smile.

Seeing her, his mouth curved into a warm smile back. ‘Shh,’ he said, pressing a finger to his lips and nodding towards the room where her little boy slept.

She beckoned him away from Ollie’s door. ‘Thanks, Joe,’ she said.

‘No problem. I thought you wouldn’t want Ollie to know about us yet.’

Sarah dropped her gaze. ‘No,’ she mumbled, looking uncomfortably back at him. ‘Not yet.’

Joe’s smile faded. ‘I, er, take it you’re not desperate for a repeat performance then?’ he asked awkwardly.

Oh God, she’d hurt his feelings. ‘It’s not that, Joe. It’s just …’

‘Don’t beat yourself up, Sarah, I get it,’ he said as she fumbled for the right words. ‘Sex on the rebound is never a great idea. I, er, should probably go. Duty calls.’ Nodding past her to the stairs, he smiled again, a heartbreakingly sad smile this time.

‘It wasn’t on the rebound,’ she said quickly. ‘Joe, please don’t feel …’ Crushed, that was how he looked. ‘It’s not that I don’t want this … us.’

Joe glanced down to the hand she’d placed on his arm. ‘Are you sure about that, Sarah? You hit the wine pretty hard after receiving that text.’

She had. She’d promised herself she would only have one more, and it had turned into two, and then another once they’d got back. Joe obviously thought it was something to do with Steve. Hand on heart, Sarah couldn’t say that it wasn’t. She tried to rescue the situation. ‘I just need a little time to make sure Ollie’s okay with things. He’s had so many changes in his life recently. Can you be patient with me, do you think?’

Joe closed his eyes, looking relieved. ‘Of course I can. I do understand. I know you have Ollie to consider and I don’t want to push it. I wouldn’t dream of it. Look, I’ll call you, shall I? In a couple of days, maybe?’ His expression was hopeful.

Sarah thought about it. Her emotions were all over the place, but could it really hurt to see Joe discreetly? ‘Or I could call you?’ she suggested. ‘Tonight, possibly? There’s no harm in talking on the phone, is there?’

‘No harm at all,’ he assured her, a playful twinkle in his eye. ‘As long as you can’t read what might be going on in my mind.’

Sarah laughed and leaned in to kiss the lips of the man she’d fallen in love with all those years ago. The man she suspected she could so easily love again. She had to be sure, though. Ollie had to be her priority.

‘I’d better get on.’ She eased away as she heard her son’s feet pad across his bedroom. No doubt he was heading for his toy box.

‘Talk later,’ Joe said throatily, and squeezed past her to the stairs.

Watching him go, Sarah traced her lips with her fingertips, a warm sensation spreading through her body. She had to put Ollie first, but she owed it to Joe not to mess him around. She would ring him, and she would see him. She would just take it more slowly, as he’d hinted she should before she threw herself at him, which only went to show how caring he was.

Her mind made up, she turned to Ollie’s room, her eyes snagging on the wall clock as she did. God, the time. She was going to be so late for work. Needing the extra money now she was on her own, she’d applied for a job as a behavioural therapist at the dog rescue centre, which paid more but also meant working alternate Saturdays. Her friend Becky, who taught at the local primary school, looked after Ollie on those days, and she was wonderful with him, but still Sarah felt guilty spending so much time away from him.

Composing herself, she pushed his bedroom door open. ‘Morning, munchkin.’ She smiled, finding him sitting cross-legged on his bed, surrounded by a sea of Duplo. ‘And what are we making this morning, hmm?’

‘A train,’ Ollie replied, his brow furrowed in concentration.

‘So I see. It’s a very smart train.’ Sarah made a space and sat down beside him. She was doubtless going to be late, but having got herself in a state one morning while trying to adjust to single parenthood, only to end up shaking her little boy’s world furth. . .