The Adulterer's Wife: a breathtaking psychological thriller

by Leigh Russell

  ‘I want to check my emails,’ he told me. ‘Nana wanted me to write to her as soon as I got back.’

  ‘You can phone her. I’m sure she’d like to speak to you. Why don’t you give her a quick call while I’m dishing up?’

  ‘I said I’d write.’

  ‘It can wait until after supper.’

  ‘Because I’m so slow you think it’ll take me ages to send an email?’

  I tried to laugh as though his suggestion was absurd. ‘No, because dinner’s ready.’

  ‘How can it be ready? You didn’t know when I’d be home.’

  ‘I had a pretty good idea. Now come on, let’s eat.’

  He brightened up once we sat down together. I had gone out earlier and bought pizza and chips and chocolate ice cream, all his favourites. I even made him a shandy. It was going well, until he went upstairs.

  ‘Mum! I can’t find my laptop!’

  He raced into the kitchen where I had just finished loading the dishwasher.

  I straightened up, a puzzled frown on my face. ‘Did you leave it at your nan’s?’

  He shook his head, his face taut with worry. ‘I didn’t take it with me. Don’t you remember? The police took it away. But you said they’d brought it back.’

  ‘They must have taken it up to your room.’

  ‘It‘s not there.’

  ‘The police must still have it then.’

  ‘The police?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘They can’t keep it!’

  ‘No, of course they can’t. We’ll go along there first thing in the morning and get it back. Now, why don’t you go and call Nana and tell her you’re home and you can write to her tomorrow.’

  With an unhappy nod, he went into the living room to make the call. When I followed him, he left the room and I heard him going upstairs, still talking on the phone. I wondered what he was saying that he didn’t want me to hear.

  ‘Don’t forget to put the phone back when you come down or the battery will run out,’ I called up the stairs.

  But he didn’t come down again.

  When I tapped on his door on my way to bed, he didn’t answer. Quietly I opened the door just enough to peer inside. He was lying on the bed, still fully dressed, asleep, clutching the phone in his hand. I thought better of disturbing him. Recharging the phone battery could wait until the morning. It was hardly the joyful homecoming I had hoped for, and we still had the problem of the missing laptop to resolve. I called Ackerman again several times before I went to sleep, but he didn’t answer.

  32

  Before breakfast the next morning, I phoned Ackerman. All set to leave another message, I was surprised to hear his voice.

  ‘I didn’t think you’d answer.’

  ‘Why not? You called my phone, didn’t you? What is it?’

  ‘I’ve been trying to get hold of you for days.’

  ‘Yes, well, I’ve been busy, but I’m here now. So, what is it?’

  ‘Listen, I need my son’s laptop back. I need it now. No, I need it yesterday. He’s home and he wants his laptop. How soon can you get it here?’

  My fears were realised when he told me he had already sold it. He sounded pleased, telling me he had managed to get more for it than it was worth second hand.

  ‘Don’t stress about it,’ he concluded, ‘I made sure the memory was wiped before I parted with it. There was nothing on it.’

  All Dan’s precious photos of his father had been deleted by a stranger, and Ackerman was telling me not to feel stressed. I felt sick. When Dan came downstairs, he was impatient to head off to the police station straight away, but I insisted we have breakfast first. I didn’t tell him that the visit was going to end in disappointment and he might deal with it better on a full stomach. It seemed I was right, because he was cheerful and relaxed on the way to the police station, almost as though his father had never died. The trip to Scotland had clearly done him good. He chatted about his visit to Edinburgh.

  ‘So, tell me about this youth club,’ I said.

  ‘It was okay,’ he muttered.

  ‘What were the other young people like?’

  ‘You mean girls, don’t you?’ He gave an embarrassed laugh but didn’t answer.

  ‘Come on, Dan, how was it?’

  ‘It was okay,’ was all he would say about it. ‘So, what are we going to do today, after we get my laptop?’

  ‘What would you like to do this afternoon?’

  ‘We could go out for lunch first?’

  ‘OK.’

  ‘Can we go for pizza? And this evening to the cinema.’

  My only option was to pretend to be ill later, but the situation was becoming tricky in ways I hadn’t foreseen. I wouldn’t be able to hide the truth for much longer. All the way to the police station my mind was working overtime, planning what I was going to say to the police, and afterwards to Dan to convince him it wasn’t my fault his laptop had gone missing. The desk sergeant quickly grasped what we wanted and summoned a colleague to help us. She went off to track down Dan’s laptop for us. I did my best to appear surprised when she came back and told us that everything had already been returned to us.

  ‘They’re all listed here, all accounted for,’ she smiled. ‘Three laptops, one PC and two mobile phones.’

  Dan pounced on what she said. ‘Thee laptops? That includes mine then?’

  The sergeant read out the descriptions of the computers. ‘All the electronic equipment was handed to you,’ she told us.

  They both looked at me, the sergeant’s eyes impassive, Dan’s accusing.

  ‘Where did you put it?’ he demanded. ‘She said they gave it back. Where is it?’

  ‘I don’t think that can be right- ’ I said, doing my best to sound both self-assured and puzzled at the same time.

  ‘You signed for each of the items.’

  ‘I must have been confused. My husband had just died.’

  ‘It’s down here in black and white. There’s really no possibility we could be mistaken, Madam. They were signed out of the station and signed for on delivery. Here.’

  She held out a scanned copy of a delivery note, the itemised details clear, as was my signature.

  ‘One of the laptops was missing,’ I insisted.

  ‘That’s not possible. They were checked off on the delivery and you signed for everything:- three laptops and a PC. Can you remember what you did with the computers when they were returned to you?’

  ‘I didn’t do anything with them.’

  ‘They must be at your house then.’

  It was clear I could say nothing to persuade her to investigate it any further, so we left, but not until I had assured her that the matter wouldn’t end there.

  Dan and I stopped off at Sainsbury’s on the way home. Dan pulled a face when I steered him away from the DVDs.

  ‘Let’s stick to what we need, shall we?’

  ‘Oh please, Mum.’

  ‘Until the probate is sorted, we need to be careful with money,’ I told him.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘I don’t want you to worry. We don’t have any problems in the long term, but the legal process to sort out your father’s estate is complicated and it’s going to take a while- ’

  ‘Estate? Do you mean his will?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘His money?’

  ‘Exactly. And until everything’s sorted out, we can’t get hold of any of it.’

  ‘Are you saying we’re broke?’

  ‘We’ll have enough to live on, but that’s all for now. So we’re not getting any new DVDs now. I’m sorry, but that’s how it is.’

  He frowned. ‘Okay. No DVDs then. That’s why we’re not going to the cinema, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes,’ I lied, relieved at the reprieve, ‘but it’s only for a while. Once the probate’s over and done with, you’ll be able to buy as many DVDs as you want, and go to the cinema every day if you like. You can have anything you want. That’s how it’s going to b
e, Dan.’

  He smiled and I had a feeling everything was going to turn out all right in the end. It was just going to take a while, exactly as I had told him.

  Back at home, we sat down for lunch. As I was opening the fridge, the bottom of my trousers caught on my bag. It was bound to happen sooner or later, but I had hoped to have more time to prepare my speech about it.

  ‘What’s that on your leg?’

  Turning around, I saw Dan staring at my ankle. The mug in my hand smashed. In the silence that followed the crash, I watched splinters of china floating in a puddle of tea oozing across the floor. For the next few moments I was preoccupied with cleaning up the wet mess without cutting myself. When I finally sat down, Dan repeated his question. Although I would have to tell him the truth at some point, it was hard having the confession forced on me before I had decided what to say. Still, the longer I lied about it, the angrier he would be when he finally heard the truth.

  ‘The police let me out on bail. You know what that means?’

  He nodded.

  ‘One of the conditions of my bail was that I don’t go out after six in the evening. It’s called a curfew.’

  ‘You mean you’re grounded?’

  ‘Yes, exactly.’

  ‘I don’t understand. How can they do that to someone as old as you?’

  ‘It’s just so they know where I am, in case they need to speak to me.’

  ‘Why can’t they just phone you if they want to speak to you? Why do you have to stay at home? It’s like you’re still in prison.’

  ‘Not really. I can go out all day if I want to. The curfew is only from six.’

  ‘But what if they need to speak to you earlier? And how can it be every day? That means you never get to go out in the evening.’ His eyes narrowed in suspicion. ‘Why didn’t you tell me straight away?’

  ‘That’s a good question. The thing is, I was so excited to see you, I forgot all about it. And then we were busy looking for your missing laptop.’

  He scowled and went upstairs without another word. A few moments later he came down again, demanding to know where his father’s laptop was.

  I hesitated before answering. ‘I threw your father’s computers away.’

  That, at least, was true.

  ‘And you threw mine away as well, didn’t you?’ His eyes were blazing with unfamiliar rage. ‘Didn’t you?’

  ‘No, no. Of course not.’

  ‘You’re lying, like you lied about your curfew. All you do is lie to me.’

  ‘I’m not lying, Dan. I’ve never lied to you.’

  ‘Why did you throw away all my photos of Dad? Did you lie about killing him too?’

  ‘I didn’t touch your photos. They’re all there, in your drawer- ’

  ‘You went in my room!’

  ‘Of course I didn’t.’

  ‘How do you know about the photos in my desk then? You went in there, didn’t you?’

  ‘No, I already told you I haven’t been in there. You must have told me they were there, ages ago.’

  ‘I didn’t. I never told anyone about them. It was a secret.’

  He ran out of the room and I heard him go upstairs. I was tempted to run after him, but decided it was best to leave him alone for a while. That turned out to be a mistake because less than an hour later I heard the front door slam.

  ‘Dan? Dan!’

  Grabbing my phone, I ran to the door. As I reached for the handle, I noticed the time. It was three minutes past six.

  33

  Lately I seemed to be constantly frustrated by people refusing to answer their phones. First Ackerman had been impossible to get hold of, now it was Dan who wouldn't pick up. Frantic with worry, I left message after message, begging him to at least call and let me know he was all right. My teeth were chattering uncontrollably and my whole face seemed to tense up until I could barely move my jaw to speak.

  ‘You don’t have to call me back, just send me a text, so I know nothing’s happened to you.’

  ‘Where are you?’

  ‘Please let me know you’re okay.’

  ‘I’m worried about you. Please get in touch.’

  ‘Dan, please, call me. Please.’

  ‘Just tell me you're all right.’

  I must have left about twenty messages and sent even more texts, imagining all kinds of dreadful accidents that could be preventing him from answering his phone. If I had known where to look for him, I would have broken the conditions of my bail to go after him. It was two hours before my phone finally rang. It felt like two days.

  My hands shook as I answered. ‘Dan? Is that you? Dan?’

  It was Stella calling to tell me he was safe. She explained that Mark was on a train to London where he had arranged to meet Dan, and they planned to travel back to Edinburgh together in the morning.

  ‘No, he can’t go,’ I protested, struggling to speak calmly, although she must have heard my stifled sobs. ‘Not without seeing me first. I need to tell him it wasn’t me. It wasn’t me.’

  ‘I’m not going to discuss any of this with you,’ she replied curtly. ‘Mark and I agreed it wasn’t fair to let you worry about Dan, and that's the only reason I called. There’s nothing more to say. I’ll call you tomorrow to let you know they’ve arrived back here safely. We just didn’t think it was right to leave you in the dark.’

  Tears choked my words when I tried to tell her that without Dan I would be permanently in the dark. She hung up. I kept trying his number, but he didn’t answer.

  That night I barely slept. I tried to take comfort from knowing that Dan was safe, and Mark would be there to take care of him, but I was tormented by the thought that my son hated me so much he wouldn't even speak to me. First Paul, now Dan, had abandoned me.

  I was alone in a hostile universe.

  True to her word, Stella rang me the next day. ‘I promised to let you know when Dan got back. He’s here with us now, and he’s welcome to stay here as long as he likes. He doesn’t want to go back to London.’

  ‘He can’t stay there. He’s got a place at college,’ I said.

  It was a stupid objection.

  ‘We’re getting in touch with all the local colleges here. We’ll find him a place. Mark has already been in contact with the support services for disabled students and explained the situation to them, and they understand why he can’t return to London.’

  She made it sound so final, I felt myself shaking with anger. How could they have stepped in and reorganised our entire lives without even consulting me?

  ‘What do you mean, he can’t return to London? This is where he lives. It’s his home. I’m his mother!’

  ‘He found the experience of going back to London very traumatic. We can't let him be distressed like that again. Mark and I have talked it over with him and we all agree this is the best thing for him right now.’

  ‘What are you talking about? How could he be traumatised by coming home and seeing his own mother? Where is he? I need to speak to him.’

  ‘I’m calling you now because he’s not here.’

  ‘What do you mean? Where is he?’

  ‘There’s no need to become hysterical, Julie. Dan’s fine. He’s perfectly safe. Mark’s taken him into town to get a new laptop. He was very upset about losing his pictures, but Mark’s confident that all the data can be restored from the cloud. They just need to work around a few things.’

  ‘What things?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know, passwords and things like that. Mark understands it all better than I do. But hopefully he’ll get everything back.’ She paused. ‘You know Dan had photos of Paul on there?’ Her voice dropped to a whisper. ‘How could you have hated him so much?’

  ‘What? No, no, I didn’t hate Paul. That’s not true. I never hated him. I loved him. You mustn’t tell those lies in front of Dan. And I didn’t throw out Dan’s laptop. It was the police. I’m going to lodge a complaint. They lost Dan’s laptop. It wasn’t me. You have to tell him. Tell him I�
��m going to make sure it’s found.’

  ‘Oh, they’re back. I have to go.’

  ‘Stella, let me speak to him, please-’

  I was still begging to speak to my son when she hung up.

  I called her number again, but no one answered.

  At my third attempt, she picked up.

  ‘Mark’s taken Dan up to his room to check his new laptop’s working,’ she muttered. ‘If you try and contact us again we’ll report your number as a nuisance caller and get it blocked.’

  ‘You can’t do that. I want to speak to Dan. He’s my son.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Julie, Dan doesn’t want to talk to you right now. He’ll be in touch when he’s ready. But for now, you need to leave him alone. It’s going to take time for him to settle into his new life here with us.’

  She rang off without giving me a chance to respond. When I redialled, the line was engaged. She had left the phone off the hook, or perhaps she was already reporting my number as she had threatened. I didn’t know what to do. It was hard to believe that my in-laws were trying to steal my son. I wasn’t going to accept this without a fight.

  Dismissing the temptation to open a bottle of wine, I washed my face and made myself a pot of coffee. At a time like this I needed to think clearly. Searching through my bag I found the card from Andrew, my lawyer and called the number. A woman's voice answered.

  ‘I need to speak to Andrew. Please, this is really urgent.’

  ‘Who shall I say is calling?’

  ‘Tell him it’s a client.’

  ‘And your name?’

  ‘Julie Barrett.’

  As clearly as I could, I explained the situation to Andrew. ‘You have to help me. I can’t lose my son as well as my husband. Surely you understand that. Please say you’ll help me. I don’t know who else to turn to.’

  When I stopped speaking there was a long pause, although I knew from background noises that he was still on the line.

  ‘I can’t let them take him away,’ I insisted. ‘It’s a lie to say my son is better off without me. I brought him up. I devoted myself to caring for him while he was growing up. They can’t just take him like this. It can't be in his interests. Don’t you see, they’re just doing it to punish me. They don't really love Dan, not like I do. They think I killed their son so they’re taking my son away from me. You can't let them get away with it.’