What Goes Around: A chilling psychological thriller by Julie Corbin

space.’
    ‘I can do whatever the fuck I want.’ His tone is dismissive. ‘You’re not my keeper.’
    I glance over his right shoulder to where the exit door is being held open by the doorman. ‘How long are you going to be in Edinburgh?’
    ‘Another few weeks.’
    ‘Please don’t contact me again.’ I walk towards the exit and don’t look back.

3. Ellen
    ‘So what have you got to tell me?’ my dad says.
    ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘Chloe told me she was round at yours this morning.’
    ‘The sockets?’ I blush, wondering whether he can see right through me to the anxiety I have about the house going on fire, my mind tormenting me with images: flames licking around the light switches, settling into sofas and chairs, roaring along the hallway, flashing light and heat towards me, making hot, grey ash out of everything in its path.
    ‘Sockets? What sockets? I’m talking about the house!’
    ‘The house?’
    ‘Earth to Ellen.’ He waves his hand in front of my startled eyes. ‘
This
house.’ He points down at the floor. ‘My house, belongs to you, not to me. We can sell up and get you back into Maybanks if that’s what you want.’
    ‘Dad!’ I wave his words aside, relieved he hasn’t guessed my secret shame. ‘Don’t be daft!’
    ‘Grannie, Grannie, Grannie!’ Molly rushes into the room and stops in front of me, grinning and pulling at the corners of her mouth with her fingers. ‘Look!’
    ‘Where’s your tooth?’ I pretend to be shocked.
    ‘It fell out.’ She hops around on one foot, propelling her arms to balance herself. ‘The fairy will bring me a pound!’
    ‘Come wash your hands, Molly!’ Chloe calls from the bathroom. ‘Grannie has tea ready.’
    Molly grabs my hand and swings round, my arm being pulled this way and that as she swivels and sways.
    ‘Molly!’ Chloe calls again.
    ‘I’ll be back in a minute, Grannie,’ Mollie says, her upturned face golden as if she’s been touched by sunshine. ‘For my mashed potatoes.’ She skips off. ‘Coming, Mummy!’
    ‘I don’t mind moving, you know,’ my dad says. ‘It’s worth thinking about, Ellen.’
    ‘You love this house, Dad.’
    ‘Aye, but I love you more, and—’ he lowers his voice ‘—I’d be happy to stuff it to that bastard of a husband of yours.’
    I smile. ‘Now there’s reason enough.’
    ‘Think about it, Ellen,’ he says, giving me one of his significant looks. ‘You can’t change the wind but you can adjust the sails.’
    A couple of years ago when my mum died, Dad needed to be closer to family so Tom and I bought the house for him to live in. It’s only a short distance to the centre of Edinburgh and is perfect for him; the shops are outside his front door and there’s plenty going on for the over-seventies. Chloe, Jack and Molly have been living with him for almost three years now as it’s walking distance to Jack’s work, and my dad loves the company. Officially speaking, his house is part of the marriage assets and my solicitor advised me that because of this I’m entitled to less than half the value of Maybanks. The idea of teaming up with my dad and selling his property to keep Maybanks had never occurred to me before Chloe raised it, and despite my dad also bringing it up now, I still don’t give it much thought.
    We all sit down to tea and have a happy hour of laughing and eating. At the end of the meal, as we’re leaving the table, my dad farts and we all shout at him at once. ‘Dad!’ ‘Granddad!’ ‘Grandpops!’
    ‘It’s a poor backside that never rejoices!’ he says. Molly clutches her hands over her mouth and giggles.
    I gather up the plates and Chloe takes them from me. ‘Let me do that, Mum,’ she says. ‘I know Ben’s itching to get home.’
    I look across at Ben, who’s already on his feet. ‘Not meaning to rush you, Mum, but I need to get back.’ He holds out his hand. ‘You got the car keys?’
    ‘You want to drive?’ I say, trying not to let him see