Love Me, Love Me Not: An addictive psychological suspense with a twist you won’t see coming

Because, when it comes down to it, what else is there between a man and a woman other than sex? Why bother to have a relationship with someone who stimulates your mind as well as your body?

‘You wouldn’t understand, even if I did try and explain it to you.’

She smiled to herself and I wanted to ask what she was thinking. ‘You just seem so… the same.’

‘In what way?’

‘A bit awkward, a bit unsure of who you are. But then, when you start talking about something, it’s as if you’re the only person in the world who really gets it.’

I thought I could see her point, even if it was tumbled up in nonsensical English.

‘Sounds like he was talking about bats,’ I reply. Ever since Patrick read Dracula as a kid he had been obsessed with the folklore behind vampire bats; how not all cultures believed them to be signs of evil, with some viewing them as symbols of rebirth or long life. I liked to think of them as portals for change, as an opportunity to become something more.

‘Yes. But I didn’t have a clue what he was going on about.’

‘Suspicions amongst thoughts are like bats among birds, they ever fly by twilight.’

She drained her glass, then pointed it at me. ‘That’s exactly what he said. But I can’t remember who it’s by.’

Francis Bacon. Not that it would have meant anything to her because Elle’s literary abilities had never stretched beyond the love triangle between a girl, a vampire and a werewolf.

‘Don’t worry, he does it to everyone, especially when he’s nervous.’ It was his failsafe, his way of trying to interact with people with whom he had nothing in common. We used to joke about the way people responded to his theories, would laugh at their ignorance of the world around them.

‘I asked him whether he had a Batman costume at home.’

Okay, I was definitely safe.

‘He laughed and asked me if I had a Catwoman one.’

She did. Skintight latex that was worn to every Halloween party with a fluffy tail she used to entrap that year’s victim. No doubt she showed him a photograph, asked him whether she made a convincing cat. Not so safe after all.

I looked down at the plates of food between us. At the miniature chocolate cupcakes I knew she loved. Four in total. Two with icing slightly darker than the others.

‘You know, I think he likes me.’

But he wasn’t hers. He was mine and I wasn’t about to allow her to steal him from me, to assume she could have anything she set her sights upon. Not him. Anyone but him.

‘I wouldn’t have thought he was your type.’

‘Exactly. Perhaps it’s time to go for the geek instead of the jock. Up my standards. Isn’t that what you’re always telling me?’

I looked back down at our plates. Wondered whether I should switch or let fate intervene.

‘He’s my boyfriend, Elle.’

‘Of course. But it can’t be that serious if you haven’t even done the deed. I mean, aren’t you worried he’ll find someone else to scratch that itch if you won’t?’

I hadn’t been. Not until she planted the doubt in my mind. Watered it with the imaginings that were creeping around inside of me.

I had never wanted to hurt her before that moment, but one glance from her and it was unravelling so fast I had no idea how to try and put it back the way it was supposed to be. One glance from her and all of my darkness came spinning back to the surface. All of the whispers, the insecurities, the desire to cause harm that had dissipated whenever I was around him, came flying back into my consciousness and I was overcome with the urge to make her scream.

‘So where is he now?’ I picked up my own cupcake, waited for her to see me do so, then watched as she wrapped her lips around one, head dropping backwards as sweetness slid down her throat.

‘I think he’s talking to your mum,’ she said in between mouthfuls.

Good. There was time.

Have another.

‘So have you decided what you’re going to do?’ I had to keep her talking. Keep her eating.

‘No idea. Dad says I can take my time, help out with the business, but can you imagine how dull that would be?’

Yes, I can. But no worse than online shopping and days at the spa, which is how Elle had spent her summer thus far.

‘You could always teach.’ Because those that can’t, can.

‘Funny you should say that.’

‘Funny ha, ha, or funny, that’s so ridiculous I can’t quite believe what you’re suggesting?’

‘Don’t be a bitch. Just because I’m not as clever as you doesn’t mean I can’t do something worthwhile with my life.’ Her hand reached out for the second cake, then stilled, eyes stretching wide before the same hand scratched at her neck.

‘What is it?’ I offered her a drink and she swiped it away, the glass shattering on the tiled surround of the pool. ‘What’s the matter?’ I knew what the matter was, but folded confusion into my face just the same.

She pointed at her throat, tongue slowly filling the space created by her fish-like mouth. Fingers seized my arm, pressing down hard on skin that would show the outlines of her fear in days to come.

‘The cake.’ My hands came up to my mouth in a caricature of shock. ‘But you had one too, so it can’t be.’ But it can. All too easy to pretend I didn’t know which cupcakes had toffee and which had peanut icing. Silly mistake to make. Silly old me.

The hand of fate had decided, held me back from switching the plates. Made me choose him over her. A defining moment, you could call it; the first time I realised the full extent of my feelings, understood he had taken her place in my heart.

Still clutching at my arm, Elle’s lips began to swell. I imagined the sensation of her ballooning from the inside out. Flesh pressing against her skull, skin stretching tight in preparation to split wide, her beauty destroyed by one tiny nut.

‘Jane, what’s going on?’ Patrick asked. Where the fuck did he come from? Only a second ago it was just her and me, then suddenly he popped up behind us like some veritable boy scout.

Four words from him and everything was annulled.

‘She’s in anaphylactic shock.’ I leapt up, her nails leaving behind accusatory lines. ‘Lie her down, find something to prop up her head.’

‘Is she going to be all right?’

I turned away, couldn’t risk him seeing the guilt leaking from my pores. Didn’t want to witness his concern for her. There was a cabinet on the wall behind the bar, a cabinet I’d been shown by Elle’s mother the first time I was invited round for a swim.

‘Just in case,’she had told me.‘I need you to know what to do.’

Just in case her child was dying, she thought someone would be there to save her.

People choose what they want to see, what they want to believe. Jackie wanted to believe I wasn’t capable of hurting her child. That I didn’t hesitate before stabbing Elle in the thigh with an EpiPen as she ran screaming across the lawn. She blamed the caterers for not labelling the food correctly, despite their protestations of innocence. Because if she’d known I had even considered the possibility of hurting Elle, she would have had to ask herself not only why, but how it was that she’d invited me into their lives in the first place.