‘What possessed you…? Were you bored? Unfulfilled? Was life really that lacking in excitement?’ He’s looking at the floor, still shaking his head.
His words are all too reminiscent of mine to him, not that long ago.
Yes, I want to shout. All of those things and more. I did it for Tyler and for that baby and also for me, weak and pathetic individual that I am. I wasn’t to know that Mel would turn out to be so toxic. I made an error of judgement, and now I’m paying the price.
It doesn’t feel like the right time for those words. I want to placate him, not create a space for an argument. ‘I’m so sorry, Laurie,’ I say. ‘I’ve cocked up big time. I know that.’
He’s pacing the room now, like a caged animal.
‘Please come and sit down. I can’t talk to you when you’re like this.’
‘Like this. Like this!’ He’s shouting, and I feel fear in the face of his fury. ‘How on earth do you expect me to behave? This isn’t just about you; it affects us all. It’s going to have a major effect on the rest of our lives, and you expect me to suck it up. You’re a fucking selfish cow.’
We have rowed before, but not like this. He’s incandescent with rage, and his shoulders are heaving. I realise he’s weeping, and I’m shocked. I’ve never seen Laurie like this in all the time we’ve been together.
There’s a tentative knock, and Nancy’s head appears around the door. The PC on duty has most likely heard raised voices and called upon her to come and investigate.
‘Can I get you anything, Francesca?’ she says.
I admire her diplomacy. She knows we are quarrelling and that her presence is likely to defuse the argument.
‘Your evening meal will be here soon. Is there anything you would like, Mr Hughes? I can rustle up a cup of tea and a sandwich?’
Laurie shakes his head. I’m relieved to see he is starting to calm down. He goes to the bathroom, and I hear the tap running. When he returns, he picks up his coat and goes towards the door.
‘Thank you, Nancy ’ he says. ‘I’m going for a walk to clear my head. I apologise for the shouting.’
‘You mustn’t overdo it, Fran,’ Nancy says after he’s gone. ‘You have had a lot of visitors today, and your body is still recovering. You need rest, not aggravation. If there is any more nonsense, I will put a ban on all visitors.’
I feel pitifully grateful for her concern.
‘Please don’t be nice to me, Nancy,’ I say, turning my head into my pillow to hide my tears.
I wait all evening for Laurie to come back.
He doesn’t.
43
‘They found your car and located your phone. No sign of your keys, though.’
It’s morning, and Laurie is back, freshly showered and shaved and carrying his computer bag over his shoulder. He is wearing a clean shirt and chinos. I’m still feeling churned up inside after our argument and irritated to see he is acting as though nothing has happened. He doesn’t mention his outburst from the night before.
After he’d gone, I had an awful night, my sleep interrupted by my usual anxiety dreams. It was close to midnight when Nancy came to do my observations. She offered me a sleeping pill, which I declined. I then tossed and turned for hours, conscious of the sweaty plastic under sheet and lumpy pillows. Eventually I slept, only to wake at 5 a.m. to the sound of the medicine trolley being wheeled up and down the corridor. After breakfast, Nancy had called a healthcare assistant to change the bed sheets and remain in the room while I had a shower.
It feels good to be out of bed at last. I’m sitting on a chair in my clean pyjamas when Laurie puts in an appearance.
‘Where was the car?’ I say, trying to sound as normal as I can.
‘Up a lane about a mile from the crematorium, at the entrance to a field. The farmer was going to check on his cows and called it in to the police. We can collect it once the police have finished with it. And they managed to track your phone to a ditch at the side of the road not far from Willington.’
The routine nature of the conversation is disconcerting. I want him to know how upset I am about him leaving and not coming back last night, but I can’t face stirring it all up again.
‘The doctor will be doing his rounds this morning,’ I say. ‘I’m hoping he will let me come home.’
‘We’ll have to see what the police have to say. They are coming back to talk to you this afternoon.’
‘Oh, about what?’
‘They didn’t say. Just that they would be in later. About security, I would guess.’
We sit for a while in awkward silence until Laurie takes out his laptop and flips up the lid. ‘You don’t mind if I catch up on my emails, do you? Oh, and I almost forgot.’ He draws out a slim box from the front pocket of the bag and hands it to me.
‘It’s a basic pay-as-you-go. It will tide you over until we find out whether we can have your phone back or need to get you a new one. I’ve put our shared family’s and friends’ numbers from my phone on there.’
‘Thanks,’ I say. ‘I was beginning to feel a bit cut off from everything. I should have got you to bring in my laptop, too. Then we can sit and ignore each other and pretend everything’s all right when we know it’s not.’
There. The words are out in the open. I wait for the eruption of anger, my eyes fixed on the porthole window in the door. The police officer from yesterday has been replaced. This one looks younger, if the back of his head is anything to go by. He has reddish blond hair slicked down with gel. A coiled wisp, having escaped his ministrations, curls around the back of his ear. If Laurie starts shouting again, what will his response be? Ignore us? Interrupt us? Call for a nurse or doctor to intervene?
I’m about to find out.
Laurie slams shut the lid of his laptop and turns to face me. I’ve known him for so long, yet his expression is difficult to read. Inscrutable. It’s a word Mum and I liked to use when we were struggling to come up with a backstory for one of the characters we were observing. In-scroo-tible. My younger self would draw out the word, testing it on my tongue, and Mum would laugh at my efforts.
‘What is it you want from me, Fran?’ Laurie’s voice is steely. ‘An apology for the way I behaved? Because if you are, you’re going to be waiting a long time. Under the circumstances I don’t think I’ve been that unreasonable.’
I sigh wearily, knowing he’s partly right.
‘So where do we go from here?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I’ve ruined everything. I know that,’ I say. ‘I was just thinking about how we might move on from this, if at all. Do you want us to separate?’ My voice is tremulous. I swallow hard, trying to control my tears.
‘What the hell are you talking about? Are you serious, or are you just being a drama queen? After all we’ve been through as a couple, are you seriously contemplating a separation?’
‘No. It’s not what I want,’ I say miserably. ‘But you were so angry. I wouldn’t blame you if you hate me and want to move on and start again somewhere else.’
The image of Laurie and his replacement family flashes briefly before my eyes.
‘Really, Fran?’ He shakes his head in disbelief. ‘Have you really got so little faith in me? You think I am capable of swanning off into the sunset on my own when the going gets tough?’
‘I don’t know,’ I say. ‘Everything is so mixed up. I’m mixed up. Nothing is the same…’
Laurie gets up and comes to sit on the bed alongside me. He takes my hands in his and looks into my eyes. I can’t bear it and turn away. I’m pathetic and angry with myself for feeling that way. I loathe being so weak, and I don’t want him to stay with me out of duty – or worse, pity.
‘Look at me, please. I have something important I want to say.’ He shakes my hands from side to side to get my attention. ‘First of all, and despite all that has happened over the last year, I love you, and I hope the feeling is mutual. Is it?’
‘Yes.’ I gulp, reaching for a tissue.
I wipe away the tears coursing down my cheeks.
‘Right. I’m glad that’s clear. I know you are feeling unsafe after what has happened, and I’ve been doing some thinking about what we could do about that.’ His voice is low and considered. ‘What are your thoughts on us selling up and moving away from here?’
I sit up, and my mouth drops open in surprise.
‘I will lose out by cashing in my pension early,’ he continues. ‘But I can still do the odd bit of freelancing from home. If we sold the house and your mum’s flat, we could buy something smaller and cheaper. Maybe even move to Wales, near to my mum and dad. You get more for your money there, and we would be left with a sizeable nest egg for the future. You don’t have to decide immediately. It’s something you need to be one hundred percent in agreement with. Your mum left you her flat, and selling it will be an emotional wrench for you. In fact, if you wanted to, you could keep the flat on and continue renting it out if you can’t bear to sell it.’
‘No,’ I say. ‘I don’t need to think about it. It’s a great idea. Let’s do it. And sooner rather than later.’
We toast to our future with water from the jug and plastic cups on the bedside table. When Dr Shah calls in on his rounds, I am still in good spirits and eager to get discharged.
‘My, my, Mrs Hughes. You look like a different person to the one who was brought in. I’m satisfied that you have made an excellent recovery, and I’m happy to let you go home on condition that you rest and recuperate. I can arrange a follow-up appointment with your GP in a week or so. I will write up the paperwork, and Nancy will sort out your discharge.’
‘Thanks so much to all of you for looking after me,’ I say. ‘Once the police have interviewed me, I will get out of your hair. I feel far too healthy to be taking up a hospital bed.’
Laurie leaves with a list of clothes I want him to bring from home. He’s been down to the emergency room and critical care to see if he can locate what I was wearing when I was brought in, but there’s no sign of any of it.
‘They said your stuff was probably handed over to the police. They may have wanted it for forensics.’
The day is starting to drag, and I’m leafing through a pile of out-of-date magazines Nancy brought in from one of the waiting rooms, when DI Holmes and DS Georgiou arrive. They stop outside the door to have a word with the young PC before coming in.
‘It’s good to see you have recovered, Fran,’ says Jo Holmes. ‘Dr Shah says you are able to leave this afternoon.’
‘I’m ready to go home, I can tell you. I’m raring to go. There’s so much to organise. Laurie and I are selling up and moving away.’
I notice the familiar ‘look’ that passes between them, and the smile freezes on my face. I’ve seen this exchange before, and it usually means trouble.
‘What is it? Is something wrong?’ My heartbeat speeds up, and my breath catches in my throat.
‘We can’t let you go home, Fran. Not yet. We want you and Laurie to go into a safe house for a while. There have been some major developments, and we think you are still at risk.’ DI Holmes is unusually curt, and her initial friendliness has evaporated.
‘But I thought the security you mentioned would be at our house,’ I say. ‘We have the panic button and good home security. It was my understanding you would be just increasing police presence for a while.’
DI Holmes has on a heavy layer of make-up, which doesn’t quite conceal the dark circles beneath her eyes. It’s obvious she is tired; they both are. DS Georgiou looks dishevelled and in need of a shower. They both look as though they have been up all night working. DS Georgiou glances across at his boss for affirmation before speaking, and she nods her head in assent.
‘I’m not at liberty to give out too much information on the case at this moment in time,’ he says. ‘But we have made significant arrests in operations involving other police forces. Unfortunately, Melanie Ingram, a major suspect implicated in your kidnap, has evaded arrest. We believe she may have connections to Europe, and it’s possible she has left the country. But, whilst she is still at large, we are concerned your safety may be compromised. A safe house is the best option until she is apprehended.’
‘What about her son Gabe?’
‘He’s being looked after. That’s all I’m prepared to say.’
‘Am I to conclude that by “significant arrests”, you mean of the gang members? The ones Mel was about to go into partnership with?’ I say.
‘As DS Georgiou has explained, this is an ongoing operation, and until Melanie Ingram is arrested, we cannot guarantee your safety.’
There’s no denying it. DI Holmes is weary, and it’s making her tetchy. She skirted around answering my question, which is unusual for her.
‘I’m so sorry,’ I say. ‘I do understand what you are saying, and I really appreciate all you have done, but I’m going home.’
‘You do realise our resources are very stretched, don’t you? If you do return home, the security cover we can offer will be limited.’ Again, there’s an edge to her voice.
‘I am aware of that,’ I say. ‘But we are keen to pack up the house and put it up for sale. As soon as we are able to, we are going to move to a new location a long way from here. We aren’t going to tell anyone where we are going, apart from close family.’
It strikes me that Laurie might be less than pleased with my unilateral decision not to go into the police version of hiding. I ring him as he’s about to leave.
‘Can you pick up some chocolates for the nurses?’ I say. ‘Oh, and they want us to go into a safe house until they catch Mel. She’s on the run.’
‘No way,’ he says. ‘If you are in agreement, I think it’s best we sort the house out and get it on the market straight away. We can go to Mum and Dad’s until it sells. I’ve spoken to them, and they would love to have us.’
I feel lighter, as though a huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders. We are both in agreement, and we have a shared goal for our future. We just need to put the plan into action, and we can be on our way.
‘That’s what I told the police,’ I say. ‘Now get your skates on and come and get me. I’ve got loads to do!’
44
We have a police escort from the hospital, and then we are left to our own devices. A car will be sent to provide cover at the house, as and when resources allow. Other than that, we will have to remain alert and on our guard.
As we come through the front door, Buddy barks his stranger bark, then launches himself at Laurie. He keeps his distance from me, eyeing me warily.
‘Buddy, come here. What’s the matter?’
He circles around me a few times and takes a sniff at my outstretched hand.
‘Bud, you silly boy. What is it? I thought you’d be pleased to see me.’
‘You don’t smell right,’ Laurie says. ‘I’m with him. You smell of the hospital. He’ll be fine once that disappears.’
‘I’ll have a bath,’ I say. ‘The hospital shower was a weak trickle. It’ll be nice to have a soak, and perhaps then I won’t be so off-putting to the men in my life.’
Casting a glance around the room, I’ve never before thought of our tastes in home decor as being especially vibrant. However, in contrast to the bland neutrality of the hospital, the navy blue feature wall and splashes of colour from the pictures, cushions and throws is a welcome assault on my senses. I feel a pang of sadness at the thought of leaving. The years we have spent here, turning it into a home, a safe place where we raised our kids, threw parties, enjoyed meals with family and friends, where we laughed and cried and planned for a trouble-free retirement, all that is over. There’s no point in having regrets. We need to move on, to make new memories, create a home together and enjoy the rest of our lives. We can do that. It’s only bricks and mortar, after all.
‘You okay, Fran?’
‘Of course. I’m feeling a bit sentimental, that’s all,’ I say, brushing away a stray tear. ‘It’s just memories, and we can take them
with us.’
‘Go and have a long soak. I’ll do something quick for us to eat, and we can talk about our plans after dinner.’
The wood burner is blazing when I come downstairs wrapped up in my fleecy dressing gown. We eat Laurie’s stir-fry, and I drink a little wine, my body adjusting to a diet richer than what was on offer in the hospital. Buddy sits between us, still unsure of me, though happy to have me stroke the silky backs of his ears.
‘It’s weird being back,’ I say. ‘It seems so long ago, yet it’s only been a few days since the funeral.’
‘I know. This is almost like old times, except so much has happened. I’m not saying at any level that’s been a good thing, but in a way, being forced to evaluate our lives and make changes could be positive in the long run. We were coasting along, and that might have continued indefinitely. Horrible as it’s been, this has given us the impetus to actually do what we’ve talked about for so long.’
We talk long into the night until we are both close to exhaustion. We agree that for safety reasons, we will do as much as we can online. Laurie will delegate his meetings and work from home for the next few days. The house will go on the market, and the tenants of Mum’s flat will be given three months’ notice before that too goes up for sale. Apart from a suitcase of clothes each, our personal belongings will go into storage, as will our furniture once the house has sold. Moving in with Verena and Bryn is only going to be a temporary arrangement. Staying too long with them is bound to result in frayed tempers. We will find a rental, and when everything is finalised here, we can then look for our new home.
‘It’s important that we put your safety first, Fran,’ Laurie says. ‘It seems to me your relationship with Mel was ambivalent, but you have enough information about her and the gang to put them all away for a very long time once this goes to trial. We can’t take this lightly, and the police are right to want to take precautions against you being intimidated or coming to harm. But a safe house could have us ending up in some godawful backwater, and that’s not what either of us wants. The sooner we get away from here, on our own terms, the better. Hopefully, they will capture her before long, and we can get on with our lives and stop looking over our shoulders.’
In A Deep Dark Wood: A psychological thriller Page 23
