Page 79 of The Psychopath Next Door

‘Ha. Very true.’

I walked back to the house, wondering what to do. It was only a fortnight until Rose went back to school, and she would be spending this week with Emma, but should we stop Fiona from looking after her for the final week? I knew Rose would protest vehemently if we did.

I went through the front door, intending to talk to Emma about it, and found her in our bedroom. She was wearing a dress and putting her make-up on in the mirror.

‘What’s happening?’ I asked. ‘Have I forgotten something?’

She kissed me. ‘No, I decided to surprise you. I’ve booked us a table at this new place in Wimbledon. The one that was in theGuardiana couple of weeks ago.’

I had a vague memory that I’d read the review out to Emma, saying how much I’d like to go there. A new Indonesian place that sounded amazing.

‘I was about to call you to find out where you were. You’d better start getting ready.’

‘What about the kids? Are they coming?’

‘To our romantic evening out? No, I’ve sorted it. Fiona’s coming round.’ The doorbell rang. ‘That’ll be her now.’

I heard footsteps on the stairs. Rose running down to open the door.

‘What’s the matter?’ Emma asked.

‘I . . . Nothing.’

It was too late to do anything now. Fiona was already here and I could hear her and Rose talking in the hallway, Rose speaking quickly, excitedly, thrilled to be reunited.

I went to the top of the stairs and looked down. There was Fiona, wearing jeans and a baggy T-shirt. From here, I could see the dark roots of her hair. It hadn’t struck me before that she wasn’t a natural blonde.

She sensed me looking and glanced up.

‘Hi Ethan.’

Our eyes met and she held my gaze, and it was like she was looking right into my brain, reading my thoughts. I forced myself to smile and she smiled too, though hers looked as fake as mine felt.

It was as if we were playing chess and she’d realised I’d figured out she was about to attempt to checkmate me. Like we were entering some sort of endgame.

The problem was, I had no idea what that endgame was.

28

Rose’s bedroom was different. The room of an adolescent rather than a little girl. The walls were bare, apart from a picture of a beach that looked like it had come from IKEA.

‘What happened to the Taylor Swift posters?’ Fiona asked.

Rose shrugged. ‘Got bored of them.’

‘And your Barbies?’

‘I put them out with the bins.’

Fiona was shocked. ‘What did your parents say about that?’

‘They don’t know yet. I just did it.’ Her voice was flat. Emotionless.

‘Rose ... It’s a good idea to pretend. To be into the kind of stuff twelve-year-olds are meant to be into. For protection.’

Rose frowned like this annoyed her. ‘Twelve-year-olds aren’t meant to like dolls. They’re stupid. I’m leaving all that behind.’

Fiona had been expecting something like this. The change, hastened by what had happened at Patrick’s house. The accelerated pupation. Still, it was unsettling. Here was the butterfly, perched on the edge of her single bed, no expression on her face.

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