by Carla Kovach
Gina, haven’t heard from you in a while. I miss you and loved our dates. Can we see each other again soon? Rex.
‘Guv, these have just been delivered for you.’ Nick had left his post to bring the embarrassingly large box of chocolates through to her. He left them on the main table and headed back. Neatly tied with a big red bow around them and a little card attached to the front, Gina felt her face begin to redden as Briggs stared at the unwanted gift. Just when she thought Rex had got the hint. She stomped over to the chocolates and forced them into the much smaller bin, grabbing the card at the same time. She could feel the weight of Briggs’s stare on her back and she knew he’d wonder who they were from and why they had been delivered to the station. He’d also wonder why she’d thrown them in the bin. Maybe that hadn’t been her best move.
‘Can we speak in a minute, Harte? Pop through to my office.’ He turned on his heal and left the room.
Wyre, O’Connor and Jacob turned back to their work, trying to relieve her of the embarrassment and Smith broke away from the group with Kapoor and began discussing the evening ahead.
Another message came through.
I was just passing your house. Thought we could do lunch. Can we speak? Rex. XX
Her hands began to shake as she clenched her knuckles. Tension washed over her arms and shoulders and a pain shot through her head. He was now officially giving her a headache, one that could only be cured by his parting from her life. She hastily replied.
Rex. Go home. Leave me alone and don’t contact me again. Stay away from my house.
She stared at the phone, hoping there would be no more messages but true to his form, he replied immediately with a crying emoji. She threw the phone in her pocket. She wasn’t going to indulge him any further and if he came to her house again without an invite she wouldn’t be quite so civilised.
‘These look like good chocolates, guv. They’ve got ganache and hazelnuts in them. Can we have them? It seems such a waste throwing perfectly good chocolates in the bin.’
She nodded. O’Connor fought with the packaging and began chomping on a chocolate.
‘I know you have a lot to do, Jacob, but I want the Ashmores’ neighbour, Colin Wray, brought in for his voluntary interview. Also, Derek Alton, Samantha’s married boyfriend. Contact him and get him here, ASAP. Also, I know Noah Ashmore has been calling. I should have gone back to see him but with all that’s happening, I can’t fit that in too. Can you get someone over there? Keep him updated. Thank you.’ As she headed towards Briggs’s office, she opened the little envelope and pulled out a card. It had a little heart on the front and no messages inside. She shoved it back into her pocket as she knocked on Briggs’s door.
Thirty-Six
‘Gina, I know there’s something going on and I can see it’s affecting you? Take a seat.’
She sat the other side of his desk. ‘Whoa, direct or what?’
‘If it affects your ability to do your work, then I’m going to be direct about it. How else would you expect me to be? Would it be best if you kept your personal life separate from your work life? It really doesn’t look professional.’
‘We know a lot about professional, don’t we?’ she snapped.
‘Touché.’
She linked her slightly quivering fingers in an attempt to disguise her anger and nerves. ‘I didn’t ask for the chocolates or for some man to be bothering me, sir.’
‘Do you want to talk?’
‘No.’ She knew he wasn’t really giving her an option and she could see how it looked, her receiving and angrily binning the chocolates. She nodded, knowing it was in her interest to talk. ‘Okay.’ She inhaled and fanned her face with her hand. ‘I had a couple of dates with someone and he keeps texting me. He sent the flowers and the chocolates. He just thinks he’s in with a chance and I want him to leave me alone. The situation isn’t out of hand.’
Briggs looked at her, unable to speak.
She cleared her throat and looked away.
‘I see. Is he bothering you?’
She shrugged her shoulders. ‘Would it matter? It’s something I have to deal with, it’s personal and I’m managing.’
‘Are you managing? You looked like you were panicking back there, in the incident room. Don’t let your team see you lose it.’
He was right. She could have looked less angered, treated it as a joke or brushed it off. ‘You’re right. It won’t happen again.’ She didn’t want to tell Briggs that Rex had turned up at her house too. She didn’t want him to see that she wasn’t as in control as she wanted to be.
‘I’m also worried that you haven’t looked too well these past couple of days and the welfare of everyone here is my responsibility.’
‘I think I just ate something dicky, one of my dodgy takeaways, sir. I’m okay now, I just had a bad night.’ She knew her unruly hair and pale face probably made her look sicker than she had felt. She also knew that her upset stomach was just a reaction to the things Steven had said to her outside the station. She couldn’t exactly tell Briggs that her abusive dead husband brought a prostitute home and forced her and the woman to do things to each other while they cried at knifepoint. Her neck began to prickle and the redness seeped up, covering her nose, chin and cheeks. Briggs also knew her intimately and at this precise moment, he could sense exactly how she was feeling. She wondered how long he would make her squirm.
He smiled. ‘If that’s all it is. Just don’t go spreading anything over this way and let’s hope it was just a takeaway and not some icky bug. As for later, I think we should meet at the location around six this evening and scope it out. Is that okay for you?’
She unlinked her fingers. ‘Yes, six is fine. See you there.’ She stood to leave, relieved it was over.
‘I’m looking forward to staking someone out. It’s been a while since I’ve got away from the old desk. Here’s to something more exciting!’ He held his cup up and took a sip of his drink.
‘Well, I’ll see you later then.’
‘Look, if you ever need to talk, I’m always here, in a personal and professional capacity. You know that, don’t you?’ She knew he had a soft spot for her, he had for a long time. He would keep her on the case and he’d be there for her no matter what. She considered if the roles were reversed, if some woman was bugging him when he didn’t want to hear from her, or if he looked upset. Would she be there too?
She nodded and returned his smile. She also knew that he never believed her when she said she was fine. Would he be there if ever he knew the whole truth about her past? She shivered as she closed his office door.
Thirty-Seven
‘I hate work, still wish I was in Tenerife,’ Nicole said as she grabbed her keys and waved goodbye to Aimee.
‘Catch you later,’ she replied as she sat at the kitchen table, head in hands. Her slightly greasy hair was falling from the loose hair clip, tickling her face and nose.
Her mobile buzzed on the table. Rhys was calling. Swallowing, she felt her heartbeat speed up. She couldn’t answer. She’d told him it was over and to never come back. She remembered the grip he’d had on her chin, him squeezing hard. She wouldn’t answer. The buzzing stopped as her voicemail kicked in.
A few seconds passed, he called again, hung up, called again and again. She scraped the chair and stood to attention as Barney began to bark. A breeze picked up and the old shed began to creak at the bottom of the garden. A strip of asphalt fell to the floor. Another job that Rhys had promised to do. She shivered as a splash of raindrops began to tap on the window. He was out there, she knew it. The phone rang again.
Tears fell down her face as she stared at the lit up phone and slid down the wall sobbing. Shed banging, rain tapping, dog barking and the damn phone. She wanted to scream and shout for help. Nicole – she wished her friend was still here. ‘Go away,’ she yelled.
The phone stopped ringing. She reached out and looked at the screen. Twelve missed calls in less than five minutes. Her heart was in her m
outh as it rang again. ‘What?’ she yelled as she answered. He knew she’d answer eventually, he was always right. Mr bloody always right.
‘I’m struggling out here, babe. Please don’t tell me it’s over. I know I upset you—’
‘You hurt me.’ Tears slid down her cheeks.
‘You had a knife to me. I forgive you, Aimee, I love you. None of that matters. I’ll do anything. Don’t listen to Nicole. She’s just trying to poison what we have. She’s just a jealous bitch who can’t get anyone and she wants you all to herself.’
The same old story. The one that had almost made Aimee tell Nicole it would be best if she found a place of her own. She wasn’t falling for it any more. It was as if a veil had been lifted. She could now see what was once so invisible to only her. Rhys was trying to distance her from everyone who meant something to her and Nicole was her oldest friend. ‘Rhys, it’s over! Just get over it. You think I’m going to dump my oldest friend for you? That’s never going to happen.’
‘And this is why you’ll never be happy, Aimee. She’s holding you back.’
‘No. You are. You always were and I can see it now. I had that knife in the kitchen because I was petrified of you, not because I wanted to hurt you. You know the detective, she has a witness. Someone saw you with Jade and you were being rough with her, hurting her. Did it end there or did you follow her? Did you pin her to something like you do to me, not allowing her to move? Maybe she wasn’t a doormat like I was. Maybe she told you to get off her and you didn’t. Maybe she was about to report you or tell the others what you did to her. Like the things you did to me—’ She sobbed like she’d never stop, hyperventilating. Breathe, she couldn’t breathe. She gasped and coughed.
‘Don’t come the victim with me. You tell me you like it the way we do it and that you love me and now this. Aimee, don’t make me out to be a monster. Making things up will only make you look stupid in the end.’
Shaking she held the phone to her ear. She could simply end the call to end the torture but she wouldn’t. He’d be angrier if she hung up on him and she didn’t need his rage coming to her doorstep. She needed him to go quietly and never bother her again. ‘Please, Rhys, please just go and never call me again. Please.’
‘But, I love you, babe. I. Love. You.’
She could hear a warmth in his voice confusing her even more. It was the same warmth she’d originally fallen for. ‘You’re slowly killing me. Please stop.’
‘You’re killing me. I love you and I never hurt Jade. The whole Swap Fun thing was a stupid idea and it’s made me realise what I stand to lose. When this mess is over and I can prove I’m innocent, I just want to come home and be with the woman I love. We can get married, maybe have a child. Remember, we always said we’d like a little girl called Rachel after your mum or a little boy called Henry. We can have it all. I’m ready to commit to you with everything I have. I’ll be the husband you deserve. I promise you. Please just give me a chance.’
The back gate slammed. Her body stiffened. He was walking down the path. ‘Please don’t come here. I need to think. Go back out of the gate now and think this through, Rhys.’ She closed her sore eyes and blew her nose as she waited for the door to open. There was no way he’d listen to her. He wasn’t the type.
‘Out of the gate. I have no idea what you’re talking about. Is this another silly game you’re playing? Is it meant to mean something that I’ll never fathom? You sometimes think you’re so clever. That’s your problem. Think you’re better than anyone else.’
Within seconds his tone had changed. She ended the call. If it wasn’t him, who was in her garden? Something was off and it wasn’t just Rhys. It was ever since she’d allowed Rhys to set up her profile on that stupid Swap Fun website. The door handle rattled as she trembled on the kitchen floor. ‘Just go away,’ she yelled.
Thirty-Eight
Rain pattered against the living room window. Diane pulled the fleecy blanket further up towards her chin as she shivered. This Morning, a television programme she normally loved filled the solitude but she couldn’t concentrate on anything. After all that had happened, every hour went by slowly. Someone had broken into her house and she couldn’t get it out of her mind. Every part of her home felt dirty, like it was contaminated.
Sleep hadn’t come at all. Her heavy eyelids threatened to close as her breathing became heavier. A random snore brought her out of her slumber and she awoke with a start. What if he was to come back? The intruder knew things about their past, her and Samantha. Was he part of her past, is this why she had been chosen? Maybe he was punishing her for all the wrongs she’d done. Shame burned through her cheeks. Eventually the police would dig up something from her past should these incidents keep occurring. If nothing else these days, she had respect. Would the community turn on her if they knew what she’d done? She’d even changed her name to escape it. It had been so easy. Move from her town of birth to the town her brother had moved to and start again. No one had questioned it and her past had never threatened to meet her present. It had all worked out well, until now.
She tried to curl up a little on the settee. It was no good. Her legs weren’t going to bend in that way. Her hip twinged and her swollen fingers lost their grip on the edge of the blanket, making it slip a little. Her eyes filled up. Being only in her fifties, she saw other women her age looking like they were still forty, out enjoying themselves with great jobs and loving families. She had nothing and there was nothing to look forward to. Her once lovely long chocolate brown hair was now mostly grey and limped in tangled clumps over her shoulders. The menopause had also treated her badly, putting her through the wars. She envied every woman who’d sailed through it. One health problem after another had plagued her since. She stared at the screen. Some of the presenters and guests were around her age. They looked so full of life and radiant.
Back then, men had swarmed around her, just like they had with Samantha. They’d loved her shiny hair, her hourglass figure and the way she could wiggle in a pair of heels. They loved the crimson lipstick and the smell of her perfume. She could have had anyone but she chose to profit from her looks. Not in the way a model profits from being the star of an advertising campaign but in more sordid ways. At seventeen she had the looks but soon her reputation made sure that most of the decent boys didn’t want to know. It was a different time in the eighties. They may have had the big hair, the educational opportunities and the shoulder pads, but women were still being patted on the arse by the guys they worked for. No one judged either the women or the men for this, but they all judged her. They all wanted to shag her when they got paid and they all went home to their wives and listened to them bleat on about what a tart Diane from-down-the-road was.
She stared at her reflection in the murky window. ‘Worthless whore,’ she whispered as tears filled her eyes. That’s all she was. A new name meant nothing. Deep down, she was nothing but a whore and the town she left had said it out loud. No wonder her bro had moved away, the teasing must have forced him to. No one cared if she was okay at seventeen. No one had offered to help. Maybe things would have been different today, just maybe. Maybe social services would have stepped in to help and she’d have continued studying, got a good job and had the husband and family she’d dreamed of back then.
Her home phone went. As she reached out to answer, her bones creaked. She brought the received to her ear. ‘Hello.’ She wiped her eyes on the corner of her blanket. The caller was silent. ‘Hello?’
The call went dead. She placed the receiver down and pressed 1471 only to be told that the caller had withheld their number.
A cold shiver ran through her body. First the card, then the break-in, now a phone call from someone who’d hung up. A million thoughts flashed through her mind. Was the intruder checking to see if she was in? Maybe this time he was going to come for her, maybe hurt or kill her.
She wasn’t worried about dying but the thought of someone coming to her home and hurting her more than she al
ready hurt sent a shudder through her body. She trembled as the phone rang again.
Reaching for the receiver, she held the phone to her ear and waited. She could hear the caller breathing at the other end. ‘Derek? Who is this?’ she cried. A thought crossed her mind. ‘Samantha, is that you? Please, just say something, anything. The silence is killing me. I miss you, Sam. Did you send me the card?’ Breaking down, her sobs filled the living room. It couldn’t be Samantha but for a moment it felt like she was really talking to her. All the heartache at her disappearance came flooding back as the caller hung up. ‘Come back,’ she yelled, her voice cracking.
It wasn’t Samantha. Her closest friend would never put her through this much pain. ‘Come back,’ she cried.
Thirty-Nine
‘Aimee, what the hell?’
Nicole dropped her bag on the table and kneeled beside her friend.
The phone slipped from her hand and fell to the floor. ‘I thought you were him.’
‘Come here.’ Nicole held Aimee close until her tears subsided. ‘What happened? Did he call?’
She nodded and wiped her nose. ‘I thought you were him. I did it. I finally told him to never come back.’
‘We’ll get through this and the old Aimee will shine back through. You’ll see. You did the right thing.’ Nicole grabbed some tissues and passed them to Aimee. ‘Here, I’ll put the kettle on. Chamomile tea?’
‘Please. Why are you back home so soon?’
Nicole switched the kettle on and grabbed a couple of mugs. ‘I left my phone on charge and I need it. Thought I’d dash back and grab it. I’ll have to have this and run. I’m not going to be Miss Popular for being late but stuff ’em. They need me more than I need them. What’s been going on, hun? There’s something you’re not telling me.’
