What She Saw: A gripping psychological thriller with a heart-pounding twist

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What She Saw: A gripping psychological thriller with a heart-pounding twist Page 17

by Wendy Clarke


  ‘Well, I do. Not just for your sake, but for mine. I’m seven years older than you. You’re still doing your A levels, for God’s sake. I don’t want people saying stuff.’

  ‘What stuff?’

  ‘You know what people can be like. Getting the wrong idea.’

  Beth thought of Carina and shivered. She knew exactly what he meant. ‘We don’t have to tell anyone.’

  David reached over and touched a lock of her hair, running it through his fingers. ‘How many boyfriends have you had, Beth?’

  She felt herself blush. ‘A few.’

  He looked out across the water. ‘A few. Now, why do I not believe you?’

  Tears pricked the back of her eyes. ‘All right, so I’ve never had one. What bothers you more? That I had the audacity to hold your hand… or that I wouldn’t know what to do after?’ She got up. ‘I’m sorry if I’m not the experienced, sophisticated girl you’re obviously looking for, David. Maybe I’ll just go round the block a few times and come back to you when I start to forget all their names.’

  David stared at her. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. That’s not what I meant at all.’

  Covering her face, Beth felt tears bristling. She wished she was anywhere now but here. With him.

  ‘Look at me, Beth. Do you really think so little of me?’ His hands were warm on hers as he lowered them from her face. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you. I just didn’t want to do the wrong thing.’

  Placing a hand either side of her face, he drew her head towards him and kissed her forehead. The touch of his lips like a brand.

  ‘Look, Beth. It’s the golden hour. I should take some photos.’

  He didn’t move, though. Didn’t bend to pick up his camera. Instead, he folded his arms around her and she felt his chest rise as he drew a breath. Beth rested her head against his shirt, breathing in the smell of him and, as she did, she saw the sun had bathed everything in a halo of light. She didn’t need a camera to capture this moment – it was etching itself on her memory.

  It was clear he was struggling with himself. Lifting her head, Beth looked into his eyes.

  ‘It’s not the wrong thing. How could it be?’

  Cupping his face in her hands, she pulled him towards her, touching her lips to his. It was a tentative kiss, and at first, he did nothing. Then, just as she thought the same thing would happen again, she felt his lips part and his fingers tangle in her hair.

  Twenty-Nine

  Leona

  ‘Are you happy to go on, Leona?’

  I hear Lisa’s words as if from a great distance. Opening my eyes, I see, by the clock on the wall, that we are almost at the end of our session.

  I nod. ‘I’d like to go on, yes.’

  It’s only by getting to the end of Ria’s story that I know I’ll be able to move on.

  The room is warm today, sunlight filtering in through the gauze curtains. Reaching my hands behind my neck, I capture my blonde hair between my fingers and twist it into a heavy knot, fixing it with a clasp I’ve found in my bag. Maybe, one day, I’ll have it cut regardless of what Scott thinks. It’s my hair, after all.

  I look at Lisa. Despite the warmth, she is cool and composed in a cotton dress, her hair hanging loose for a change. There’s something about her manner that relaxes me. A way she has of giving me space to breathe. To revisit the past in my own time. To be myself. Not just Scott’s wife, or Beth’s mother. It might be something she’s learnt in her training, but somehow, I doubt it. Some people just have a natural empathy.

  She leans forward. ‘I’d like to ask you a question, Leona.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘How do you feel about what Ria did? Angry? Shocked?’

  Through the open window, I can hear a blackbird singing. Its sweet melody makes me want to cry. ‘I feel disappointed in her.’

  ‘Disappointed?’ Her surprise is hard to disguise.

  ‘Yes. Things could have been so different, if only she’d realised what he was doing to her. His need and his anger, sucking the life from her. She used to be so bright… so strong. But, little by little, he whittled away at her self-confidence until there was nothing left.’

  ‘That’s very sad.’

  I think of Scott and the encouragement he has given me since I started my jewellery-making business. The miles he’s driven to exhibitions and craft fairs with boxes of my silverwork in the boot of his Land Rover. The way he tells everyone he meets that my work could grace the window of even the smartest jeweller’s in Windermere. That’s real love.

  ‘If you’re told you’re worthless enough times, you start to believe it. If only Ria had listened to her head and not her heart, it might not have ended the way it did.’ I feel sick inside. ‘She could have killed him.’

  ‘I know it’s hard for you, Leona, but it’s important that you understand that Ria had no choice.’ Lisa thumbs through the notes on her lap. ‘The strangulation marks on her neck show that Ria could have lost her life if she hadn’t fought back. It was done in desperation. In light of the severity of Gareth’s attack on her, the police accepted her plea of self-defence and no action was taken. You must accept it too.’

  It’s all there in front of her. The computer printouts neatly filed in her ring-binder. Lisa has been busy. It’s all in there. What happened.

  The problem is, sometimes a lie is easier than the truth.

  Thirty

  Ria

  The letterbox clattered shut and there was a thud as the envelope hit the wooden floor. Ria’s mother looked up from her ironing.

  ‘I thought the post had already been?’

  ‘It has. It comes earlier on a Saturday,’ Ria said, putting down the picture book she’d been reading to Lily. Lifting her from her lap, she went to the window and pushed back the net curtain. The street was empty except for a couple of kids on bicycles doing wheelies along the opposite pavement. How different the street was to the wide avenue of her home with Gareth, with its private gardens, enclosed by the black metal railings, where she had sometimes sat with a book.

  ‘I’ll go and see what it is when I’ve finished this.’ Ria’s mother bent to the washing basket and pulled out one of her husband’s faded T-shirts, spreading it out on the ironing board.

  ‘It’s all right. I’ll go. You help Nanny by handing her the clothes, Lily.’

  Ria went into the hall. The envelope that lay on the doormat was large, with a white address label on the front. Bending to pick it up, Ria saw that it was her name that was printed on it.

  Inserting her finger under the flap, she opened it and pulled out the catalogue that was inside. Her first thought was that it was a holiday brochure, as the picture on the cover was of a woodland. Sun filtered through the trees and a woman with white hair stood looking out over a lake. But then she noticed the flowery white script at the bottom.

  In this your time of loss.

  Puzzled, Ria flipped through the pages. What she saw there made her shudder. Inside were pictures of coffins in all types of wood, caskets made of willow and wreaths of lilies.

  ‘What is it, Ria?’ her mother called.

  She stood rigid, her eyes glued to the page. Memories crowded in. A silent chapel. A tiny coffin, one spray of baby’s breath adorning its pale wood. There was no doubt who was behind this. Only Gareth knew the truth. The brochure was a reminder, but also a warning. Even from his prison cell, he had the ability to mess with her mind.

  ‘Ria?’

  Dragging her eyes away, she glanced at the living room door. She needed to pull herself together. ‘It’s nothing, Mum. Just a holiday brochure. A friend must have dropped it round.’

  It was a ridiculous thing to say. What friends did she have? Since the trial, the only person she had seen was Leo, but their relationship wasn’t the same as it had been. Where there had once been fun and laughter, there was now a reservation that had not been there before.

  Feeling nauseous, she went into the kitchen, then let herself out of the back door. R
ound the back of the house, in the garage compound, were the recycling bins and a rough plot of unclaimed land where people sometimes parked their cars to avoid having to put money in the meters. Being Saturday, there were a number of vehicles there already.

  Lifting the blue lid, she pushed the brochure down underneath an empty box of Rice Krispies and an old copy of The Sun. Her hand was shaking. Somehow, from his prison cell, Gareth had made sure that this thing would never end. His hold over her was as strong as it always had been and it was something he would never let her forget.

  People owe me. She shivered as she remembered his words.

  Some nights, as she lay in her single bed, in the room she’d slept in all through her childhood, she’d remember what had happened in the weeks and months after it had all come to an end: the kindness of the female police officer who had been first at the scene, the professionalism of the photographer who had recorded her bruises, and the respectful way she had been interviewed. She also remembered the people who had come forward to give evidence on her behalf and the previous girlfriends who had found the courage to tell their own stories. All these things comforted her, but then, as her eyes finally closed, she’d feel again the press of her fingers on the paper as she gave her prints, the sweep of the DNA swabs in her mouth and the click of the machine as it was turned on to record her words. More than that, she remembered her fear that she wouldn’t be believed.

  All these things would fade as her mother woke her in the morning with a cup of tea, just as she used to all those years ago. The one thing she couldn’t get rid of, though – the thing she carried with her as she struggled to get through each day – was the steely look in Gareth’s eyes as she’d given her evidence. A look that had changed to incredulity as he was handed his sentence.

  Slamming down the lid of the recycling bin, she leant against it, covering her eyes with her hands. The police had said it was over. That she was safe now. But she knew she wasn’t. Somewhere, buried under paper and cardboard, was the picture of the coffin in the undertaker’s brochure. It was clear Gareth wouldn’t rest until he had taken his revenge.

  She was just turning to go back through the gate when she caught sight of a white van. It was reversing out from between two parked cars. To start with, she didn’t pay it much attention, but, as it pulled into the forecourt, she heard its engine rev. Her eyes widened in fear as, with wheels spinning, the van drove towards her at speed.

  Rooted to the spot, Ria stared in horror. There was nothing she could do. It was going to hit her. And then it was as if some primal survival instinct kicked in, unlocking her limbs.

  Throwing herself down behind the bins, she curled into a ball and prayed.

  Thirty-One

  Ria

  Detective Inspector Dayton linked his fingers and looked at Ria across the desk. She’d told him what had happened and, when he’d asked if it was an isolated incident, she’d told him about the funeral parlour brochure, the dead rat on her parents’ doorstep and the pizza deliveries that had arrived unordered the following week.

  ‘It’s going to be hard to prove that your husband is behind all this. Do your parents know what’s going on?’

  Ria shook her head. They had been out the night of the pizza deliveries, and the rat she had managed to get rid of by shovelling it into an old shoe box and throwing it into the skip in the supermarket car park.

  ‘I haven’t told them. I don’t want to worry them.’ The interview room was small and airless and she wished she could open a window.

  DI Dayton bent his head to the file in front of him. ‘It looks like our Mr Curtess has some friends who are happy to do his job for him. It’s not surprising, considering the circles he moved in. He must have pulled in a few favours.’

  ‘You said I’d be safe if I testified. You promised.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Ria.’ He had the decency to look embarrassed. ‘It seems he had quite an influence on the outside. That’s the power of drug money.’

  Ria swallowed. Until the trial, she’d had no idea what Gareth had been involved in. How could she have been so naive? It explained a lot: the changes of mood, the cash, the secrecy. The job in the city had been nothing but a smokescreen. It had been years since he’d been a broker. Years since the finance company he’d worked for had shown him the door. A blind eye could be turned when cocaine use by their employees was confined to after-hours, but when it affected their judgment during the day, it was another matter. Especially when it lost them money.

  ‘I’m scared of what might happen next. I don’t think he’ll ever forgive me for what I did.’

  DI Dayton poured a glass of water from the jug and handed it to her. It was an action that should have been ordinary, but it was weighted with the enormity of what he was about to say.

  ‘There is something we can do. A way to keep you and Lily safe.’

  Ria felt weak with relief. ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes, but it’s not a decision I expect you to take lightly. Have you heard of the Witness Protection Scheme?’

  The clock on the wall seemed to be ticking very loudly. ‘Yes, I think so.’

  ‘If we take you onto the programme, we can give you a new home… a new identity. That way, no one will be able to find you. Gareth’s serving a sentence for your attempted murder and it’s also clear he’s able to influence, pay or intimidate people to continue to put your life at risk. This real and immediate threat puts you in the high-risk category and therefore makes you eligible for our protection.’

  A fly that had been buzzing around the room, settled on the table. Ria watched it until DI Dayton flicked it away. The way he’d put it made the danger all the more real.

  ‘But what about my parents? What would I tell them?’

  ‘You would say that you had decided to go away for a while, that London held too many bad memories. It’s understandable that you would want a new start with your daughter somewhere else.’

  ‘Lie to them, you mean?’ Ria could feel the blood leave her face. She bit her lip to stop from crying. The idea was unthinkable. ‘How could I do that?’

  As soon as she said it, she felt a wave of guilt. It would not be the first time she had concealed the truth from them. Her lie before had been a much greater one.

  ‘It wouldn’t be far from the truth, would it? Not if you are truly worried about your safety… and that of your daughter.’

  ‘Gareth wouldn’t do anything to Lily. I know he wouldn’t.’

  DI Dayton leant forwards. ‘Can anyone really predict what a person will do when they are desperate?’

  He’d chosen his words carefully. She, more than anyone, knew that it was impossible to know how much Gareth might be capable of.

  ‘Couldn’t I just move away… Be taken off the electoral roll?’

  ‘You could do that, but if you did, you would leave yourself vulnerable. The Witness Protection Scheme is the only way we could guarantee your safety and, even then, it would depend on you. It would be a secret you would need to keep forever. If you told anyone about your previous identity, we would no longer be able to protect you. You’d have to live a life in the shadows, being careful not to bring attention to yourself… but you’d be safe.’

  It didn’t seem real. It was like something out of a police drama. She responded as if on automatic pilot. ‘What would I have to do?’

  ‘You would be assigned a witness protection officer and be asked to sign a memorandum of understanding.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘It’s a document that lays out what is expected from both parties. In a nutshell, it defines the terms of your new life. You would be given a new name, a new home and enough money to live on until a job could be found for you. In return, you would be agreeing to cut off contact from everyone from your former life, to never return to your home town, and not to tell anyone of your former identity.’

  ‘What about my parents? Would they be moved too?’

  He looked grave. ‘We can’t protect
every member of a witness’s family. It’s you and Lily who are most vulnerable.’

  A terrible thought gripped her. ‘Would I ever see them again?’

  His silence gave her the answer she’d been dreading and the tears she’d been holding back now fell freely.

  DI Dayton’s face softened. ‘It’s the price you would need to pay for Lily’s safety. It’s something that might be possible in the future but it would take a lot of manpower and we don’t recommend it. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Then I won’t do it.’

  He levelled his gaze at her. ‘If Lily is put at risk, there is the possibility that social services could get involved.’

  There was a hollow pain in her chest. ‘You mean they’d take her away from me? They can’t do that.’

  ‘They could if they truly believed you were endangering her by keeping her here.’

  ‘Oh, my God!’ She covered her face with her hands. The thought was terrifying. Lily meant everything to her. Leaving her parents would be heart-wrenching, but could she live her life always in fear? It was bad enough now, but what about when he came out? The thought made her blood run cold.

  She had no choice.

  ‘All right.’ Her voice was little more than a whisper. ‘I’ll do it.’

  DI Dayton’s face was calm, but she could tell that he was thinking. ‘Where is Lily now?’ he asked. ‘And will the house be empty when you get home?’

  ‘Yes. Mum and Dad are both at work and I left Lily with Tessa next door while I came here. I told her I was going to the doctor’s.’

  DI Dayton nodded. ‘That’s good. Will she be able to stay a little longer?’

  ‘I suppose so.’

  ‘Good.’ He pushed his chair back. ‘I just need to make a call.’

  He was gone for over fifteen minutes and when he returned, his manner was brisk. ‘I want you to go home and pack a suitcase or a bag. When you’ve done that, collect Lily and wait for my phone call.’

 

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