by Wendy Clarke
‘Will you? Oh, Scott, thank you. I’m worried sick.’
* * *
Fifteen minutes later, Scott lets himself in. I’m at the door waiting for him, and when he sees the state I’m in, he pulls me into his arms.
I bury my head in his fleece. ‘Where is she, Scott? Where’s she gone?’
I feel his big hand on the back of my head and feel his lips against my hair. ‘We’ll find her. She can’t have gone far.’
I pull away. ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything. The lies… The hurt…’
He takes my hands in his. ‘I’m sorry too. I never really gave you a chance to explain. While I’ve been at Mum’s, I’ve done a lot of thinking. It must have been bloody awful for you. The trial… everything that happened before. I’d kill the bastard if I ever got my hands on him.’
Fear grips me. ‘Do you think that’s where she’s gone? To find him?’
‘Does she know?’ He sounds shocked.
‘The only thing I’ve told her is that he did something bad. Something that gave me no choice but to leave London. I didn’t tell her his name. But she found her birth certificate. I don’t know how she knew about it – I’d kept it hidden in the wardrobe.’
‘Witness Protection let you keep it?’
I shake my head. ‘No. They wanted me to give them all my personal documents. Most I handed over… my driving licence… my marriage certificate… even my own birth certificate, but I lied and said I couldn’t find Beth’s or Samuel’s. It was stupid, I know, and I don’t know why I did it. Maybe I thought that there might come a time when Beth would need to know the truth.’ I clutch at Scott’s arm. ‘What if she read Gareth’s name on it? What if she’s gone to find him?’
Scott frowns. ‘I thought he was in prison.’
My stomach gives a fearful twist at the two words I need to tell him. Words that will change everything. ‘He’s out.’
Scott’s mouth drops. ‘Out?’
‘Yes. He got parole.’
‘Jesus Christ.’ He goes to the window and looks out. Pulls back the net curtain. ‘What if he came here?’
‘He won’t.’ I rationalise, logic taking over. ‘He’s tagged and there are strict conditions to his licence. Beth might have gone there, though.’ And then worry sweeps over me again. ‘Do you think we should tell the police?’
Scott runs a hand down his face. ‘They’ll only say to wait. Teenagers go missing all the time. Honestly, I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about. She knows the fells and has, in all likelihood, gone off sketching. She’s only been gone a few hours and will probably be back before you know it with her tail between her legs. You know what she’s like.’
But I don’t know. I don’t know anything any more. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course I’m sure. She’s a teenager and we’re not supposed to know what’s going on in her head.’
I relax a little. ‘I expect you’re right, but Beth was angry with me. The exhibition… I couldn’t let the press photograph her in case someone from our past saw it – recognised her. Colin told me that we shouldn’t do anything to bring attention to ourselves. That it’s even more important now that I’m no longer on the scheme.’
‘You left?’ He turns to face me, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his walking trousers. ‘Christ, Leona, why did you do that?’
‘It was when I went to see Mum in the care home. When Colin found out, he said they’d have to move us again.’ I indicate the room with my hand. ‘From here. From the Lakes. A clean start, where nobody would know us. Away from everything and everybody we know.’
Scott leans his forehead against the window pane and I know he’s trying to take it all in. Outside the window, the morning sun is painting the fells with a palette of vivid greens. The beauty is lost on us, though.
‘You never told me that. If you’d left, you would have had to leave me too.’ He says it to the landscape. The fells he walks every day. The place where he was born.
‘Yes, I would and that’s why I couldn’t do it. I could never have left you and I didn’t want you to spend the rest of your life feeling responsible for my decision.’
‘You’d give up yours and Beth’s safety for me?’ His voice is incredulous.
‘I’m sick of it all, Scott. Moving is like switching between two worlds. One where people know everything and the other where they know nothing about you at all. With each move, feeling as if someone’s behind you, packing away your life. Can you imagine what it’s like to have to change the subject every time someone asks you about the past, to not be able to share anything honestly or get close to anyone?’
‘You got close to me.’
‘And that’s why I can’t do it all again. I fell in love with you, Scott, and that’s the way it is.’
He comes over to me and pulls me to him. ‘I want you to tell me everything about your life before. If we’re to make a proper go of things as a family, there can be no more secrets between us.’
No secrets. If only he knew how many there still were. ‘I will tell you, but before we start, there’s something you should know.’
‘That I’m a big fat idiot for leaving you when you needed me most?’
Moving away, I take his hand and place it on my stomach. ‘No… that you’re going to be a father.’
He looks down at his hand. ‘My God! Do you mean it? A baby… really?’
‘Yes, a baby. But there’s something else I need to tell you.’ A lump forms in my throat. I don’t know how to begin.
‘Go on, Leona.’
My hand moves over his and my eyes close. No more secrets. No more lies. Not when we are going to be bringing another life into the world. ‘After Beth, I had another child. It was a boy and we called him Samuel. He died because… because I fell asleep with him in my bed just after I’d fed him.’
Scott says nothing, just looks at me.
‘I couldn’t sleep. Every day Gareth would threaten me, or worse. I never knew what he would be like from one day to the next. I was anxious all the time… exhausted. I took a sleeping tablet. I shouldn’t have, but I did. It was only a very low dose, but it was enough to make me fall asleep for longer than I should. The doctors said it was a cot death, but I’ll never know for sure if it was something I did. Maybe they wouldn’t have said that if they’d known he’d died in our bed and that we’d put his little body back in his crib after.’
Scott puts his hands either side of my face. ‘You did nothing wrong. How did you survive living with that bastard?’
I turn my head away. ‘I survived by shutting down. Packing up my feelings and burying them deep inside me. I learnt not to cry. Not to show emotion. I used to be happy-go-lucky, but in the years I was with him, I changed into what he wanted me to be. Until all the bits that were me had disappeared. It was only by becoming Leona that, little by little, I started to find myself again.’
Scott’s face is wet with tears. ‘I’m so sorry.’
I press a hand to his cheek. ‘Don’t be. It was you who allowed the girl I was to come out of hiding. You made me feel safe. Loved. It will be a while yet, but, one day, I know I’ll emerge from the cocoon I’ve been in for the last twelve years a stronger person. Maybe even a better person.’
He strokes my hair. ‘You’re perfect to me.’
‘When I tell you about the night Gareth was arrested, you might not feel the same way, Scott. You wanted the truth and I’ll give it to you… Then what you do with it will be up to you.’
‘I don’t understand?’
‘You will.’
Knives of doubt cut through my fragile confidence, but I know I have to go on, even though I’m scared Scott might leave me again when he knows what I did. Terrible things that I’ve hidden even from Lisa. But I’ve pulled on that first thread of truth and now I must allow the rest to unravel.
Forty-Seven
Ria
The force of Gareth’s hand knocked her to the floor. His eyes were cold, his lips a
thin line as he stood over her.
‘Leave me and I will make sure she knows your dirty little secret.’
Her fear was overwhelming. Paralysing. He would kill her. She knew it. With blood hammering at her temples, she pushed herself away from him across the floor, but he was quicker. Grabbing her by the throat, he forced her to stand. He was too big. Too near. She could feel the press of his fingers on her neck. See the talons of the eagle moving as his forearm tensed.
Gareth’s face was as hard as if it had been stamped on a coin. Though it was close to hers, she could barely recognise him, anger making his smooth features ugly. She was shocked to see the hatred in his eyes, and it was then that she realised he had probably never loved her. Not really.
He pressed harder, his eyes never leaving hers. Ria pulled at his hands, but he was too strong. She was struggling to breathe. The room was blurring.
‘Daddy?’ Lily’s childish voice was forcing its way through her fading consciousness.
She felt Gareth’s fingers release from her throat and she slumped down onto the floor, her hand to her neck. Lily was standing in the kitchen doorway, her stuffed horse clutched to her chest, her face creased from sleep.
‘I want Mummy.’
Ria’s body ached all over. Her face was bloodied and bruised. She held out her hand to Lily. ‘Mummy slipped in the kitchen, darling. There’s nothing to worry about. Go back to bed and I’ll come in and kiss you good night in a minute.’
Lily’s face crumpled. ‘Come now.’
‘You heard what your mother said. Get the fuck back to bed!’
Gareth’s voice echoed in the empty space of the kitchen and Lily turned on her heels and ran across the hallway to her bedroom.
Ria could hear her daughter crying, but she was too afraid to get up and go to her. Between her and the door was her husband. Red-faced. Beads of sweat trickling down his temples. His anger hung in the room, sucking the life from it.
With effort, using the barstool to help her, she pulled herself up. ‘Let me go to her, Gareth.’
‘Shut up.’
Blood was running down her chin from her cut lip and she could feel her eye already beginning to swell. She desperately wanted to comfort her daughter, but she was scared to anger him more. ‘Please. She’ll be frightened.’
‘Stay where you are.’ His eyes were heavy and he reached out to the breakfast bar for support. Picking up the solicitor’s card, he ripped it into pieces. ‘Try a stunt like that again and the world will know you killed your baby. No court in the land will give you access to our daughter when they hear what really happened.’
Ria’s body felt light, as if it might float away. ‘Please, Gareth. I’ve lost one child already.’
Even though it had been months ago, her heart still ached with the loss of him.
Pulling the barstool away from the island, Gareth hauled himself onto it. He looked at her through bloodshot eyes. ‘Don’t think this is over.’ Folding his arms on the marble worktop, he slumped forward onto them.
Ria waited. Not daring to move. It wasn’t long before she saw his broad back, in its tailored shirt, rise and fall in a regular rhythm. He’d nearly killed her, yet he was able to sleep. How could this be the man she’d married? Without taking her eyes off him, she edged her way around the kitchen units, panic growing again. Urgent. Insistent. His words were going round and round in her head. Don’t think this is over. She touched her fingertips to her swollen throat. There was no doubt in her mind that next time he’d finish the job. She’d seen it in his eyes. She was trapped with nowhere to run. No place to go.
She thought of Lily, curled up in her bed with her horse pressed up against her cheek. If anything happened to her, what would become of her daughter? She had to stop him before it was too late.
The pasta jar sat on the island next to the pepper mill and the cappuccino maker. It was solid. Heavy. Its thick, green glass reflecting the light from the spotlights that were trained onto the worktop. There was no choice. As if in a trance, she crossed the room and picked the jar up, bringing it down as hard as she could onto the side of Gareth’s head. The sound was sickening and immediately Ria was aware of the enormity of what she’d done. She dropped the jar and watched it roll across the limed oak floorboards, scattering pasta – its green glass slick with her husband’s blood.
He slipped sideways and, as if by instinct, Ria stepped forward to break his fall as he slumped to the floor. She stood there looking at him, shaking uncontrollably. Blood was trickling down his head, staining the floorboards and, as she watched, mesmerised, she saw his fingers move. He was alive. Her relief was quickly swamped by panic.
Quickly, she pulled out her phone and pressed the buttons. ‘Come quick,’ she sobbed when the call was answered. ‘My name is Ria Curtess… and my husband has just tried to kill me.’
Forty-Eight
Leona
It hadn’t been self-defence as I’d told Lisa – or as I’d told the police when they’d arrived at the house and seen Gareth lying on the kitchen floor, his face covered in blood. Not really. I could have walked away, taken Lily and run out of the flat. But I hadn’t. For I knew, in my heart, he’d come after me.
Scott sinks his head into his hands. ‘Christ almighty. Did you want to kill him?’
‘I don’t know what I wanted… Just that it would stop. I’d lived in fear for so long, it was the only thing I could think of to do. I knew that Gareth had no control over his temper and that next time I might not be so lucky. I did it to protect Beth as well as me.’
He looks at me. ‘And they bought your story of self-defence?’
‘The police had seen the marks on my neck where he’d tried to strangle me. I’d also shown them the threatening messages he’d left on my phone. They interviewed both Leo and my parents… my neighbours too. Leo told them I’d been planning to leave and that she knew about the abuse. I wasn’t the first apparently – Gareth was already on their radar. Other girlfriends had made complaints in the past, but had withdrawn their statements at the last minute.’ I raise the back of my hand to my cheek. ‘He could be very persuasive.’
Scott bends forward, his hands on his thighs, breathing deeply as though trying to take control of his emotions. I know that he will leave me – this time for good. Nobody would stay after hearing the story I’ve just told.
‘Scott? Please tell me what you’re thinking.’ I hold my breath, waiting for his reply.
His eyes are on my stomach. ‘If that had been me,’ he says, ‘I’d have done the same thing. You were protecting your child.’
When I feel his fingers knit with mine, I’m giddy with relief. ‘Do you mean that?’
‘Have you ever known me to lie?’
I shake my head. I never have. ‘I love you.’
‘I love you too. We’ll get through this together, Leona, I promise.’ Pushing back his sleeve, he looks at his watch. ‘But we need to decide what to do about Beth. I don’t like the idea of Gareth being out of the nick, even with a tag. Maybe we should phone around. You get in contact with the school and I’ll try her friends. I’ll do it outside… I need some air.’
He goes outside, his phone pressed to his ear, and I stand alone in the middle of our little living room and think of my daughter who, all the time I’ve been talking about the past, could be anywhere. Lost. Alone. Angry with me and her life. And no wonder – I’ve been so busy trying to protect her, I’ve forgotten how to be a normal mother.
Riddled with guilt, I pick up my phone to try her number again, but as I do, it rings, making me jump.
I answer it without looking at who it is. ‘Beth?’
There’s a clearing of a throat on the other end. ‘It’s not Beth. It’s Colin. I tried you earlier, but you didn’t answer my call. I need to talk to you.’
‘I’m sorry, Colin, but…’
There’s an edge to his voice. ‘I know I’m not officially supposed to be doing this now you’re no longer on the Witness Protection S
cheme, but there’s something I thought you should know.’
‘What, Colin? What is it?’ Outside the window, a cloud passes over the sun and the fells lose their colour. I hold the phone tighter, knowing that whatever it is he’s going to say will not be good.
‘It’s Gareth. He didn’t turn up to his appointment with his parole officer. No one’s seen him and his tag was found in a bin near the flat he’s been living in.’
‘When? When did this happen?’
He sounds embarrassed. ‘Two days ago.’
I grow cold. ‘Oh, my God, Colin. Where is he?’
‘We’re not sure, but his disappearance is being treated as a priority. It’s only a matter of time before we find him. I don’t want you to worry, though. He doesn’t know where you are. I’ll be contacting the local force just in case and I’m already on my way. I’ll be with you as soon as I can.’
Tears come silently and without warning. ‘Beth’s disappeared,’ I whisper. ‘I don’t know where she is.’
I think I hear an intake of breath. ‘When did you last see her?’
‘Last night. We had an argument.’
Colin’s voice changes. He’s calm. Efficient. A man used to dealing with a crisis. ‘I want you to listen carefully, Leona, and do what I say. First, go up to Beth’s room and make a note of what’s missing: phone, money, clothes. Anything that will give us an idea as to where she’s gone. Is her coat there? Did she take a rucksack or a sleeping bag? Get Scott to phone anyone who knows her, but most importantly, I want you to stay put until I get there, do you understand?’
‘I can’t just do nothing. I have to go and find her.’
‘I mean it, Leona. I want you to wait.’
‘All right.’
He ends the call and I let my hand fall to my side. Through the window, I can see Scott. He’s standing on the wide grassed area shared by all the cottages, his mobile to his ear. As he ends the call, one of the holidaymakers from a couple of doors down comes up the path with a bag of shopping. Scott speaks to her and she shakes her head. A few minutes later, he comes back in.
