The Liar's Chair Read Online Free PDF Page A

now fully open and my car is gone. Next to the front door is my briefcase with laptop inside. I take the bag through to the
kitchen and make some coffee in an attempt to clear the fog from my head. The warm liquid does little to take the chill from the house. I stand and sit, then move across the room, but nowhere feels
right or safe in the silence, and I’m terrified to go back upstairs. Each time I blink, the dead man’s face jolts behind my eyelids.
    The back door scratches open and the dogs burst through into the boot room with David behind them. In the dividing door between the kitchen and this other room is a glass panel, and I watch as
David takes off his coat and boots. His hair is wet. I’m not sure where to look, but before I decide he catches my eye and smiles. He comes through, puts his arms round me and presses me
against the kitchen worktop with his whole body, kissing me in a way he’s not kissed me in years.
    ‘It’s just you and me, baby,’ he whispers in my ear, his cheek damp against my face. ‘I’m going to make everything right.’
    A small tear of relief trickles down my cheek. I lift up my arms and return David’s hug. His body is warm, and I think of the limp limbs I dragged into the woods yesterday. My hands jump
away.
    He kisses me again. ‘You’re all mine,’ he says.
    I haven’t heard these words for years, this mantra from when we were first together, and a spark of pleasure surprises me as it twists in my gut. For a brief moment I miss how we used to
be, back when David’s passion was needy and he wanted only me for company, ignoring phone calls and ordering takeaways so that we never had to leave the bedroom. I wonder if I can fast-track
back to the person I was then and become the chosen one again, relinquishing control and letting David’s rules set order to the days. When we met, no one else could even look at me without
chancing the wrath of his glare. He gave me boundaries and curfews, rules for my friendships even though most friends were long ago dismissed, and the feminist in me bowed to the little girl who
wanted to be loved. Over time, after the newness between us waned, instead of resisting I translated the rigidity into love; I had been smothered but at least someone cared enough to keep me in
line. It was the same up until two years ago when I met Will and we began our affair. From that point on, the meticulously crafted machine of my life began to disassemble.
    ‘Nothing can touch us, baby,’ David says.
    ‘I—’ I try to say, but David’s mouth is on mine again, his hot tongue reaching inside, and there is no room for my words. His eyes are shut but I keep mine open. Just
outside my vision stands the man from the road. With icy fingers, he reaches through my skin, holds tight and rocks my bones from the inside.

4
1976
    Daddy’s left a copy of
Twinkle
magazine on my bed. I run down and hug him but he’s cross and sends me back upstairs, saying I should be asleep by now. In my
bedroom, I flick through the cartoons of animals and fairies. I’m nearly ten, and this magazine is for babies, but I read it through twice anyway. Mum and Dad’s friends arrive while
I’m in my room so I don’t see them, but I hear their voices in the lounge when I sneak on to the landing. The lady’s perfume floats up the stairs and I imagine her long earrings
tickling her bare shoulders, like Mummy’s earrings do. Mum’s dress tonight is pink. It’s my favourite one. The man who’s here has a deep voice. It’s deeper than
Daddy’s.
    Leaning over the banister, I stretch to see how far I can go without falling and I wonder if it would hurt if I fell, or whether I would bounce. My Barbie didn’t break when I tried it with
her. The floor down there used to be wood, like a puzzle, but Mum and Dad covered it with a fluffy-sheep carpet. ‘You’re old enough now not to spoil our nice things,’ Mum said,
‘so maybe we can get back to living like normal