Trust Me

by Sheryl Browne

Genres: Family Life; Noir; Thrillers; Crime Fiction; Psychological Thrillers; Suspense

Synopsis

‘ Wow, what can I say?… Had me hooked from the very beginning and I couldn’t put it down… Totally had me guessing until the end… Gripping and intense.’ Goodreads reviewer, ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Emily and Jake are the perfect couple. Or so everyone says. But Emily just read a letter that has shattered her perfect world. Now she only has one thing on her mind… which one of her friends is sleeping with her husband? Emily watches Jake as he makes small talk with their children, still the dream man she married years ago. But when the phone rings and he answers before quickly putting it down again, she sees the look on her husband’s face – guilt. She knows the signs – after all, she’s been lying to him for years… If you enjoyed The Girl on the Train, My Lovely Wife and Behind Closed Doors, you will love this thrilling psychological thriller from bestselling author Sheryl Browne. Trust Me will have you hooked from the start. What readers are saying about Trust Me : ‘ Blown my mind!… Trust Me is a roller coaster ride full of twists and turns that left my head spinning.’ Once Upon a Time Book Blog, 5 stars ‘ One hell of a book.’ Goodreads reviewer, 5 stars ‘ What a book with so many shocking twists!!! ’ With A Book in Our Hands, 5 stars ‘ Wow this story had me on tenterhooks… such a riveting read.’ By the Letter Book Reviews, 5 stars ‘ Psychological suspense at its best. I finished it in just one sitting.’ NetGalley reviewer, 5 stars ‘ This book was insanely good! Stunning, beautiful, gripping, heart-throbbing book… Grabbed me from the start and wouldn’t let me go.’ Goodreads reviewer ‘Wow, this was such a thrilling read!! ’ Stardust Book Reviews, 5 stars ‘Loads of twists and turns in this unputdownable read. Yet another well-deserved 5 stars for Sheryl Browne.’ Goodreads Reviewer, 5 stars ‘Browne masterfully orchestrates the twists and I didn’t see the ending coming! I loved feeling absolutely fooled by the author.’ Goodreads reviewer, 5 stars ‘A great psychological thriller that kept me going to the last page… This book is another winner.’ NetGalley reviewer, 5 stars ‘Trust me you must put this book on your to-be-read must-read-list!!!… Truly ones of the best endings I have read!’, Heidi Lynn’s Book Reviews, 5 stars ‘A gripping psychological thriller that well and truly had me hooked.’ Goodreads reviewer, 5 stars ‘I was captivated . ’ NetGalley reviewer, 5 stars ‘An action packed, gripping read that kept me turning the pages and up for much later than I had intended.’ Goodreads reviewer, 5 stars

Release date: November 20, 2020

Publisher: Bookouture

Print pages: 350

Sample

‘For God’s sake!’ He lunged for her as she grappled with the passenger door, causing the car to swerve violently across the narrow road. ‘What the hell are you doing?’

‘Let go of me!’ She fought him, squirming away from him. ‘Let me go!’

Fear constricting his throat, he tightened his grip on her arm and squinted past the windscreen wipers sloshing ineffectually against the lashing rain. Frantic, he searched for somewhere to pull over. The night was dark and moon-free, affording him little visibility. Relief flooded through him as he spotted a passing place on the single-track road. He slowed the car. And then hesitated. The entrance to Apple Tree Farm was only thirty or so yards ahead. The field beyond it would give them some privacy. There was no way he was having a full-on argument out in the open, no matter how remote an area it was.

‘Stop the car! Let me out, now!’ she cried, trying to prise his fingers from her arm.

‘Christ almighty!’ Cursing as the front wheels hit a pothole, he hurriedly loosened his grip on her to wrestle with the steering wheel.

Her scream was loud and piercing, jarring his already shattered nerves, as the car veered towards the woodland at the side of the road. He pushed his foot hard on the brake, realising his mistake too late as the vehicle careered into a tailspin before grinding to a nauseating stop. His heart pumping with shock, he wiped a trembling hand over his face and twisted to face her. ‘What in God’s name are you trying to do?’

‘Get away from you!’ she shrieked, lashing out at him, her balled fist pounding heavily into his shoulder.

‘While the car was moving?’ Disbelief and anger unfurled inside him. ‘You could have bloody well killed yourself!’

‘What do you care?’ she retorted tearfully. ‘You lying bastard, pretending you give a stuff about me when all you ever really wanted was to use me.’

‘I do care. You know I do. I would do anything for you.’ Softening his tone, he tried again to reach for her, but she recoiled.

‘Of course you would. That’s why you wanted to keep me as your dirty little secret. You’re despicable, do you know that?’ she spat. ‘It’s about bloody time everyone found out what you’re really like. I’m going.’

‘Don’t,’ he said, growing desperate. ‘It’s not safe walking around here on your own.’

‘Ha!’ She laughed derisively and reached again for the door. ‘Save it for the next gullible fool you win over with your twinkly-eyed smile and bleeding-heart crap. It was nice knowing you. Not.’

‘Come back!’ he begged as she scrambled out of the car. ‘It’s pouring with rain. You’ll get soaked.’

‘No chance!’ she yelled.

Panic knotting his stomach, he tried to start the engine as she fled, only for it to splutter and die. Shit. He slammed his hand against the steering wheel. What should he do now? He couldn’t let her broadcast his business all over the village, ruin everything he’d worked for.

Go after her, whispered the woman whose death had changed the course of his life. You have to stop her.

Bitter wind biting into her bones, Emily stood across the street from her house, outside her life looking in. A fox cried in the distance, shrill and soul-piercing, like the cry of a terrified child. There was no other sound, no movement, apart from withered leaves scurrying across the pavement like frightened mice in the night. Loneliness seeping through her, she watched and waited. There were no lights on in the upstairs windows, suggesting the children weren’t home. The only light visible was the mellow amber glow from the lamp in the large bay window, and beyond that, the flickering shadows from the television dancing across the walls of the lounge. What was her husband watching? Emily’s heart constricted. Who was he watching with, if not her?

Drawn like a moth to a flame, she stepped down from the kerb and crossed the deserted road. She was on the drive, directly in front of the window, when her husband rose from the sofa. Tall and dark, wearing his almost perpetual five o’clock shadow, he was what some would call classically handsome. Attractive, undeniably. He was going to fetch refreshments, making drink signs with his hands. Doctor’s hands. Steady, capable hands. She knew his every gesture. Knew every inch of him. From the scar on his knee from a fall as a child to the flecks of green and brown that made his blue eyes a myriad of ocean colours, she knew him. Didn’t she? Mesmerised, she continued to watch as he smiled languidly at his companion and then crossed the room towards the kitchen. Her man: he would never hurt her in the worst possible way a husband could hurt his wife. But he had once been tempted, the wind whispered.

It was an embrace. A kiss, that was all, Emily replied. He hadn’t slept with her. She’d had no cause to doubt him since. Had she? Icy fingers trailed the length of her spine as the woman in her house got to her feet, coming across to the window. She waited a beat, and then, in one graceful movement, she raised a hand, placing the palm flat against the glass. Fascinated, petrified, Emily scanned her familiar features, looked deep into the eyes that were holding hers; violet eyes, peering out through a wild tangle of flaxen hair. Her own eyes. Her own hair. A mirror image of herself, looking hauntingly back.

The fox cried jarringly.

Her heart jolting, Emily stumbled backwards, away from the woman who had once been the other half of her. She wasn’t here. She couldn’t be. A hard knot of fear expanding in her chest, she tried to draw breath. Kara. She attempted to enunciate the word, but her lips were like putty, her tongue glued to the roof of her mouth. ‘Kara.’ It came out elongated and slurred.

‘You stole him,’ Kara whispered. An accusation.

Emily heard it, impossible though it was, through the window between them. It was a lie. I didn’t steal him. Why couldn’t she make Kara hear her? Believe that she hadn’t taken away the man she’d imagined her life had had no meaning without? If anything, it had been the other way around. He hadn’t loved Kara. He’d used her. Used them both.

She hadn’t meant to be so vile to her sister. She hadn’t. ‘Kara!’ she screamed. Why was she here? What was she trying to tell her? She watched her sister’s mouth move, but the words were soundless now. Emily was glad. She didn’t want to hear the dark warning she was sure Kara was trying to convey. Clamping her hands over her ears, she stepped back, but her heels sank hopelessly into the soft ground beneath her. Soon it was sucking her down, her feet, her calves, her stomach, her chest. Thick, cloying and slimy; suffocating. It was as if the earth was trying to swallow her whole and bury her along with her sister.

‘Emily!’ Kara banged her hand against the glass. ‘Emily …’

‘Emily …’

She heard her name called softly again. Not Kara. A male voice, concerned, comforting. Jake. She snapped her eyes open to find her husband’s gaze urgently searching hers.

‘Jesus, you scared me.’ He smiled warily. ‘You were dreaming again, screaming out. Are you all right?’

Pulling herself from the pillow, Emily took a second to answer. ‘Yes,’ she murmured, the frenetic beating of her heart abating a little as she realised she was inside her home, safe in her bed.

‘Sure?’ he asked her, easing her to him and gently stroking her hair; soothing her as he would once have done their daughter. Millie would often wake crying in the night as a child. Jake had been the only one who could console her. ‘You’ve been dreaming a lot over the last few days. You’re hot, too.’ He felt her forehead. ‘Extremely.’

‘I’m fine, honestly.’ Settling into his embrace, she nodded into his shoulder. She was hot. Burning up. She hadn’t felt well all week. She hoped she wasn’t coming down with something. She was sleeping fitfully, struggling to get to sleep or waking early. And then there were the nightmares. The one she’d just had was so vivid. She wouldn’t easily forget it. She thought of the text she’d received last week. Thinking of you both on your special day, it had said. She had dismissed it as a wrong number. Sent so close to her and Kara’s birthday, though, her thoughts had been on her sister as she drifted off.

It was no wonder Kara haunted her dreams. Emily pictured her twin, identical, yet not. On the inside, they were two completely separate entities. Kara had always been their parents’ favourite, the quieter, prettier, cleverer one, studious and obedient. She’d been destined for Oxford, studying Classics and English. She’d worked hard to please their parents. Emily had decided on an art degree, unleashing her creativity as an antidote to her frustration that she couldn’t possibly compete with her sister. She’d been seen as the wild one, the noisy, rebellious one her parents would have to keep an eye on. It had been Emily who had started smoking and drinking first. She who’d started dating.

The local bad boy had been two years older than her, good-looking, cocky on his Yamaha motorbike. Despite his reputation – or perhaps because of it, to spite her parents for loving her less – Emily had been determined to go out with him. She was hopelessly in love with him and imagined she would be the one to tame him. She’d lived for the days when she would hang out with him, smoke weed on the canal bank, ride pillion into Birmingham, where they would go clubbing together. He’d said he loved her wild side, encouraged her to be who she was, abandoned and carefree, not constrained by conformity. The girl who would rise to the challenge when he dared her, taking what wasn’t hers to fund his habit, terrified he would dump her if she didn’t. How naïve she’d been. How ashamed when she’d woken up to the fact that she’d been so easily manipulated.

She’d been consumed with rage the night she’d found him in bed with Kara, unforgivably vile to her sister. Her heart twisted painfully as she pictured Kara’s stricken face, the mascara she rarely wore wending black tracks down her cheeks, her lipstick smeared sideways. ‘Slag!’ Emily had hissed, throwing her clothes after her as she’d screamed at her to get out of her life. ‘He doesn’t love you. He laughs at you,’ she’d seethed, as Kara backed tearfully along the landing. ‘We both do, little Miss Goody Two-Shoes with her nose always stuck in a book. He loves me!’

She’d been deluded. He hadn’t loved either of them. Kara had loved him, though, she’d come to realise, as painfully as she had herself. She hadn’t known how deeply until she’d read the diary her sister constantly scribbled in. He’d been the first boy she’d had sex with. And the last.

‘Care to share?’ Jake jarred her from her thoughts, his mouth curving into a reassuring smile as she looked up at him.

Emily nestled back into him. ‘I would, but I can’t remember half of it,’ she said, glossing over the dream, though it had stirred up in her the disturbing memory of how Jake had been intimate with another woman, years ago now, when they’d only been going out a few months. At the time she’d withdrawn from him, pushed him away because of her emotional vulnerability. He’d felt rejected, though he swore that he hadn’t slept with the woman, that it hadn’t gone that far. She’d believed him and had felt safe with him since. Secure in his embrace at night, listening to the reassuring thrum of his heartbeat, as if the world and all the bad things in it couldn’t touch them.

‘Are you all right?’ she asked, looking up at him. She’d obviously woken him.

‘Fine. A bit tired.’ He gave her another reassuring smile. He had a nice smile, warm and genuine; it always reached his eyes, making them more sparkling blue than ocean green. They grew darker when he was troubled, as they had been in those dreadful weeks leading up to the day she’d seen him with the woman. She hated that she hadn’t been able to be honest about why she’d drawn away from him. She’d known deep down that she could trust him with her emotions. A man who’d been too shy to ask her out, visiting the café where she’d worked umpteen times on the pretext of studying before he’d plucked up the courage; who’d also had to visibly find the courage to confide in her the terrible tragedy in his own life. That tragedy had made him everything she felt he was, kind and sensitive, but she herself felt so naïve and responsible for what had happened to her. She wished to this day she had told him instead of carrying it around like a stone, living in fear that it would surface.

‘Shoot! Also late, unfortunately,’ he added, his gaze flicking past her towards her alarm clock. ‘I need to be gone. I have that pharmaceutical rep coming before my first patient.’ Pressing a hurried kiss to her forehead, he pulled himself off the bed.

Hell. She’d forgotten about that. Throwing back the duvet, she scrambled out after him and, feeling immediately woozy, placed a hand on the dressing table to steady herself. She clearly was coming down with something. Her mind had been like wet cotton wool lately. She must have forgotten to set her alarm. After an emergency call-out last night, Jake had obviously done the same. He would be exhausted. But now that his father had cut back to two surgeries a week, he had to go in, regardless of how tired he was. As did she. The practice wouldn’t run without them.

Grabbing her dressing gown from the door, while Jake headed fast for the en suite, she listened for sounds of the kids as she pushed her arms into it. They were up, she gathered, judging by Ben’s exasperated tones drifting from the hall. Millie, whom Ben dropped off at school on his way to uni, was undoubtedly keeping him waiting.

Turning to the wardrobe, Emily grabbed the first clothes that came to hand, dumped them on the bed and then headed quickly downstairs. Reaching the hall, she bypassed Millie, who was in front of the hall mirror, layering on the mascara, attempting to look half awake after a heavy night studying at her friend Anna’s house. It had definitely been a heavy night, but Emily suspected it wasn’t studying her daughter had been hard at. Millie’s make-up had been less than immaculate when she’d eventually arrived home, her eyes slightly unfocused. Emily guessed she’d been drinking, which Millie had denied, naturally. The worrying question was where? With her own teenage rebellion in mind, Emily was treading carefully. She didn’t want to set ground rules her daughter would immediately challenge, but she didn’t like the idea of her sneaking off to pubs miles away, meaning she might be at risk if she had to find her way home alone.

She didn’t want to preach to her daughter, but she was scared for her. Millie was young and impressionable, as she herself had once been. She could so easily be led astray. She’d tried subtly questioning her about her social life and got nothing but vagueness for answers. Telling her that she was worried for her, that she didn’t want Millie making the same mistakes she’d made, only invited the roll of the eyes that accompanied her daughter proclaiming she was ‘sixteen, not six’. She and Jake needed to sit down and talk to her, Emily decided. She would have a word with him later.

‘Shouldn’t you be leaving?’ she asked Ben, who was standing in the hallway by the front door, his art portfolio in one hand, his car keys in the other and an impatient look on his face.

‘I’m trying to, but she’s taking forever.’ He glanced despairingly at his sister.

Millie scowled at him in the mirror, and then went back to grooming her eyebrows. God forbid there was a hair out of place.

‘You look fine, Millie,’ Emily assured her. ‘You’ll need to get a move on if you’re not going to be late.’

‘I’m trying,’ Millie huffed. ‘What’s your problem anyway?’ she asked Ben. ‘You have a free period this morning, don’t you?’

‘To prepare for my ceramics exhibition,’ he pointed out exasperatedly. ‘Can’t you just get a move on, for fuck’s—’

‘Ben, language.’ Jake cut him short as he hurried down the stairs, roping his tie around his neck and waggling his watch arm at Millie as he passed her.

‘Sorry,’ Ben mumbled. Then, emitting a world-weary sigh, he dumped his portfolio against the wall and ran a hand through his dark mane of locks – grown long since starting his fine art course, apparently to assert his individual style. Emily had refrained from pointing out that he might actually be following the herd, since the majority of the male art students were similarly hirsute. ‘Mum, can you tell her, please?’ he appealed to her. ‘I’ve got loads to do and she’s making me really late.’

‘Come on, Mils.’ Sensing her son’s frustration, Emily chivvied Millie on. ‘He’ll leave you to walk otherwise.’

‘I’m coming, I’m coming.’ Millie turned grudgingly from the mirror, retrieved her shoulder bag from where she’d hung it on the stair rail and dropped her make-up bag into it. ‘I have my interview after college for the Saturday job at the vet’s. I can hardly go looking a complete mess, can I? This is important work experience for my future.’

‘So you couldn’t have got up earlier?’ Ben muttered. ‘Like, three hours earlier? Dunno why you’re bothering anyway. They’ll have loads of applicants.’

‘Because I like animals – present company excepted.’ Millie eyed him with disdain. ‘I’ve decided to apply for a foundation degree in veterinary nursing. What are your life goals, other than to starve for your art?’

Ben glared at her. ‘You have five seconds, Millie,’ he warned her, a thunderous look flitting across his face. ‘And then I’m gone, and you can find your own way there.’

‘All right. I said I’m coming. Keep your gorgeous hair on. Agitated doesn’t suit the carefully cultivated laid-back arty look.’ She gave him a flat smile and patted his cheek as she sailed by him to the front door.

Ben rolled his eyes. ‘Counselling,’ he mumbled, picking up his portfolio and trudging out after her. ‘I need advice on how to divorce my sister.’

‘I’ll let your father know.’ Emily smiled, and cautioned herself to ignore Ben’s flash of anger. It was justified, since his sister had been deliberately winding him up. ‘Good luck, Millie,’ she called. ‘And well done on getting the interview. Don’t forget you have to—’

‘Concentrate on my studies as well, get good grades, don’t let myself be distracted or dictated to by anyone …’ Millie picked up, with an irritated sigh. ‘Yes, Mum, I know. You tell me about a thousand times a week.’

‘Only because I care about you.’ Emily felt a bit hurt. ‘I just don’t want you—’

‘Making the same mistakes you did. I got that bit too.’ Millie smiled flatly over her shoulder and headed out the door.

Emily tried not to mind. She probably did go on a bit. Going into to the kitchen, she found Jake swilling back an instant coffee.

‘Let me know what?’ he asked warily. He looked absolutely shattered. She noted the dark shadows under his eyes and wished he would slow down a little.

‘Your son’s decided he needs counselling in regard to his sister,’ she informed him, glancing at the kitchen clock. The dishwasher needed emptying, but that would have to wait. Jake had a full list this morning and, as practice manager, Emily needed to be there. Their cleaner, Fran, who squeezed in a day at the house in between cleaning at the surgery, was due in later anyway. It wouldn’t hurt her to actually do a bit of work rather than nattering.

‘Again.’ Jake smiled amusedly. ‘Tell him I’ll make a referral.’

‘God forbid.’ Emily walked across to him to straighten his tie. Ben did have a tendency to lose his temper, something she was naturally wary of, particularly since the episode when, escorted home by the police after drinking far too much and arguing with another youth outside the pub one night, he’d openly challenged Jake. Jake had handled it well, although he’d been shocked by Ben’s sudden volatility. Emily had tried to reassure herself it was just normal teenage rebellion. Ben showed no signs of calculated malice, thank God. Underneath his moodiness, which, after all, was normal at his age, he was a sensitive soul, she was sure, artistic by nature like her. She wished he would confide in her more, but she doubted he would easily open up to anyone.

‘Do you think she’s serious?’ Jake asked, nodding after Ben and Millie.

‘About the foundation course? She seems to be.’ Emily turned to grab her multivitamin tablets, washing them down with the coffee Jake had made her. He wasn’t convinced they actually did any good, but the woman at the healthcare shop had persuaded her they would help reduce her levels of stress and anxiety and also improve her memory and mood. Emily wasn’t entirely convinced either, but the way she was feeling at the moment, anything was worth a shot. Remembering that the bottle she kept on her desk was running low, she made a mental note to collect some more at lunchtime.

‘She’ll need to buckle down and apply herself at school,’ Jake said, depositing his mug in the sink and then grabbing his case from where he’d left it on the kitchen island.

‘As I keep reminding her.’ Emily sighed, worrying afresh about the impact Millie’s late nights would have on her grades. Jake had been out on a call when she’d rolled in last night. He’d been here the previous time she’d come home the worse for wear, though, and was as worried about her as Emily was. ‘We probably need to have a talk to her, present a united front,’ she suggested. ‘Shall we have a chat about it, make sure we’re singing from the same hymn sheet? Later this evening, maybe?’

‘Can do. I’ll make sure to get back a bit earlier,’ Jake promised. ‘Oh, and in case I forget, could you have a word with Ben? He left the back door unlocked again when he was out smoking last night.’

Emily noted his despairing look and sighed inside. Having met with a ‘we can’t all be perfect’ comment from Ben the last time he’d tried to point out the health risks of smoking, Jake tried not to go on at him. Emily dearly wished Ben wouldn’t smoke. Aside from the health issue, it was an addiction, and that worried her. Harsh reality had jolted her from her own addiction, but if Ben had inherited a propensity for dependency, would he be able to easily give it up?

‘I’ll leave him a note,’ she said, as she went to the hooks on the utility room door for the spare key. At least if Ben kept one on his key ring it might remind him to lock up after himself before they were all murdered in their beds. Finding it missing, she sighed again, wearily, and added ‘get key cut’ to her mental to-do list.

‘Are you leaving without breakfast again?’ she asked, an admonishing edge to her voice as she turned back to find Jake swinging towards the hall.

‘No time. I’ll grab something from the village shop on the way.’

‘Make sure you do,’ Emily said, thinking she sounded more like his mother than his wife. But then someone had to keep an eye on him. He skipped too many breakfasts and worked far too many late nights now that his father was retiring. Jake and Tom shared partnership of the practice and Tom still worked part-time, but he’d wanted to be less involved to free up his time so he could concentrate on his role as chair of the clinical commissioning group governing body. Privately Emily couldn’t help thinking his time might be better managed if he didn’t spend a large proportion of it chatting up every attractive woman in the village. For Jake’s sake, though, she avoided commenting.

‘Yes, miss,’ he called from the hall. ‘Don’t forget you have your blood test with Sally this morning. See you there.’

He was worried about her, thinking her recent dizziness, fatigue and general inability to concentrate might be symptoms of anaemia. She’d thought it was just due to her inability to sleep – which, Jake had pointed out, was also a symptom of anaemia, along with the bouts of nausea she’d had. She was glad that he cared, but wished he wouldn’t worry with so much on his plate. It was probably just a virus she couldn’t shake off.

‘I’ll be ten minutes behind you,’ she called back. ‘Don’t forget you promised Edward Simpson you would oversee the duck race at the village fair on Saturday,’ she reminded him. ‘You’ll need to ask Tom if he’ll cover the emergency surgery. It won’t hurt him to—’ She stopped, cocking an ear as she heard Jake’s mobile ring. That was probably Tom now, wondering where he was, or else their receptionist, Nicky, wondering where she was. It looked like she would probably be skipping breakfast again too.

‘Dr Merriden,’ she heard him answer. The phone pressed to his ear, his eyes flicked to hers as she stepped into the hall. ‘I’ll have to call you back,’ he said quickly and ended the call.

‘Anyone interesting?’ Emily asked him curiously. He wasn’t normally so brusque with callers, even unwanted ones.

‘Just a sales rep,’ he said, giving her a short smile as he pocketed the phone.

‘Oh, right.’ Emily watched him leave. He hadn’t kissed her goodbye, which he always did. Idiot. She pulled herself up. He was tired, distracted, and she was being ridiculous. The vivid dream hadn’t helped, bringing back too many memories she dearly wished she could forget. Perhaps Jake was right about the blood test, she pondered, collecting her own phone as it beeped with a text. It would be nice to get to the bottom of what was going on.

Assuming the message was from Nicky, she flicked to her texts and her heart skipped a beat. Thoughts with you, it said. That was all. It was a wrong number. It had to be. The message was almost one of condolence, which had to be a cruel irony. She thought of the first myst. . .