Thirty
Millie
‘Just one more time,’ Louis said, wearing his best winning smile as he leaned across from the driving seat to peer up at her. ‘I’ll have this guy off my back after that, and then no more, promise.’
Millie felt her heart drop. ‘But can’t you just ask him for a bit more time? You’ve paid him regularly, so he knows you’re making an effort. And it’s not like he doesn’t know where you live.’
‘Yeah, that’s the problem, though, isn’t it?’ Sighing heavily, Louis leaned back and pulled one of his smokes from his shirt pocket. ‘He’s already given me a week’s grace. He wants me to settle my debt, which I don’t have a snowball in hell’s chance of doing. He won’t hesitate to pay me a visit if I don’t give him something.’
Watching him light up, Millie wished he wouldn’t smoke that stuff in the car. Opening her window, she tried not to mind. He was obviously stressed. ‘Can’t you just pay him a bit more each week? I could help,’ she offered. She wished she could do more to help him pay it off. But she didn’t have anything worth selling apart from her PC, which she needed, and the fifty pounds she had in the bank wouldn’t make much of a dent in the three hundred pounds he said he still owed the man.
Louis drew smoke deep into his lungs, held it a second and then blew it out slowly. ‘It’s drugs money, sweetheart. I don’t think he’s going to be very impressed if I offer him a cut of your pocket money,’ he said, a droll edge to his tone that made Millie feel about twelve years old, like some silly kid who didn’t get it. She did. She wasn’t naïve. She knew it was dangerous to owe people drugs money, and this was before Louis had pointed out the man he owed it to in the pub when they’d gone into Worcester one night. He’d said he was called Bear because he was built like one. He was right. A great bloody bruiser of a bloke with an ugly scorpion tattoo on his neck, he definitely looked dangerous. Louis said the scorpion represented intimidation and fear, and then told her that the last person who’d owed him money had gone missing, eventually turning up in bin bags floating in the canal. Several of them. ‘They never did find his head,’ he’d said, a nervous swallow sliding down his throat as he’d eyed the man with deep trepidation.
‘Can’t you go to the police?’ she asked now, immediately realising that she actually did sound naïve, as Louis almost choked on his joint.
‘Yeah, right.’ He rolled unimpressed eyes in her direction. ‘They’ll be falling over themselves to offer me protection, won’t they, when I tell them this bloke I owe a shitload of money to for drugs is threatening to part me from my balls.’
Millie’s heart sank. Of course he couldn’t go the police. What a dumb thing to have said. ‘But you don’t do hard drugs any more. They might take that into account,’ she suggested, her heart dropping another inch when Louis shook his head, laughing scornfully. ‘You don’t, do you?’ She glanced worriedly at him, wondering whether he was telling her the whole truth. ‘It’s just … you seem to have been paying him off for ages.’
It was the reason they hardly ever went out. She didn’t mind, not really. She supposed she couldn’t be seen out locally with him anyway, at least not until she’d had the dreaded conversation with her parents about their age difference. She had wondered, though, on the odd occasion, whether he might still be seeing his wife. Whatever spare cash he had left he said went to her – supposedly to help with the bills on the house until they got a buyer. She’d thought that was nice of him at first, generous and caring, but she couldn’t help being a bit suspicious when she’d seen the woman leaving his flat once. Louis had said she’d popped by to drop some of his stuff off. She’d no reason to disbelieve him – he and his wife weren’t living together, after all – but she couldn’t help wondering. She’d smelled perfume on him, too, not hers. He’d explained it away, telling her it was some stuff he’d bought for his mother, and she’d liked it so much she’d sprayed it all over the place. Seeing how pleased he’d looked as he’d told her, she’d tried to believe him, but now a seed of doubt was niggling away at her.
‘I don’t, apart from the odd joint,’ Louis said. ‘I told you, I went on a treatment programme. I knew I had to when my old mum got sick. I have to look after her, don’t I? I’m not shoving her in some old people’s home, no way. She deserves better than that. It doesn’t earn you brownie points where bastards like Bear are concerned, though. He’d laugh in my face if he knew, before chopping my fucking head off, that is.’
Millie felt an avalanche of conflicting emotions. He was trying so hard to stay clean, caring for his mother. She was proud of him for doing that. She was also scared for him. And terrified for herself. If someone discovered what she was doing, she would be in deep trouble.
‘I just need a bit more stuff, Mils,’ he said, reaching for her hand and giving it a squeeze. ‘Enough to keep him happy. My ex reckons there’s a buyer for the house who’s a dead cert. I’ll be out of the woods then and we can start to make plans. Proper plans for you and me.’
‘I don’t know, Louis.’ Nerves clenching her tummy, Millie dropped her gaze to her lap. She wanted to make those plans more than anything, wanted desperately to move out to somewhere of her own, especially now, with the arguments at home and the prospect of her parents splitting. She wouldn’t have to sneak around any more then, and they could hardly tell her she couldn’t see Louis if she lived with him, but … ‘What if my dad finds out?’ she asked, her heart twisting at the thought of how much hurt she would cause him. ‘They’re bound to notice that pills are going missing soon. And they’re going to realise it’s someone with a set of keys. My mum will be apoplectic. And my dad … I don’t think I could bear to see the disappointment in his eyes.’
‘He’s not going to think it’s you.’ Louis repeated what he’d told her the first time they’d done this. ‘He’ll think it’s an inside job. That nurse, Sally, helping herself to medication to fund her Botox, or the receptionist – she likes her fancy clothes, doesn’t she? He’s never going to suspect his own daughter of stealing from him. Let’s face it, sweet cup, you look like butter wouldn’t melt. He probably thinks you’re an angel.’ He gave her a reassuring smile and chucked her under the chin. He meant it affectionately. He was always doing it, but now Millie felt about three years old.
‘But he might. They only keep so much stuff in the safe. If he realises drugs are going missing, he’ll have to call the police. There might be evidence, and then …’ She stopped, the hard knot of panic in her stomach twisting itself tighter.
‘He’s not going to find out,’ Louis said, his tone sharp. ‘Not unless someone tells him.’
Millie’s gaze swivelled back to his. His eyes were narrowed, flint-edged and hard. What did he mean? How would anyone tell him when only they knew?
Louis looked away. ‘Look, just forget it,’ he said, taking another agitated suck on his joint. ‘I’ll work it out. I’ll just have to make myself scarce, leave the area or something. There’s this bloke I know in Manchester who owns property to rent. He might have somewhere he can let me doss. It would have to be somewhere cheap until I can find work, but—’
‘No!’ Millie’s heart leapt. ‘Don’t do that.’
‘What’s up?’ He looked back at her, surprised. ‘You can come with me. I thought that was what you wanted: me and you to get a place of our own.’
‘I do, but …’ Millie faltered. Manchester? What would she do there? She could apply for courses, she supposed, but it seemed like a million miles away. She wouldn’t see her parents. For the first time, it occurred to her that she would want to. That she would miss them, even her mum, for all her banging-on.
‘You don’t want to give up your home comforts and move into a bedsit. I get it. Can’t say I blame you.’ Louis sighed dejectedly. ‘I suppose you wish I was more like your perfect old man, a fully trained doctor who’s so loaded he can keep your mum in any style her heart desires. She fell on her feet when she met him, didn’t she?’
‘No,’
Millie refuted hotly. ‘I love you. I don’t care what you do.’
‘I suppose I could always move back in with the missus,’ he pondered, as she struggled with her guilt and her conscience. ‘She’s keen. Me, not so much, but …’ He trailed off with a shrug.
Closing her eyes, Millie swallowed back her nausea. ‘We’ll have to be quick,’ she said, fetching her bag from the footwell and delving in it for the keys she’d had copied. ‘And you have to be careful not to take too much.’
‘In and out.’ Louis reached for his door. ‘And don’t worry, I only want quantities I can shift easily.’
Avoiding the CCTV camera on the high street, they were making their way down a side street to the back of the practice – Millie thanking God for the cover of dark – when it occurred to her to wonder: how did he know about Nicky? She might have mentioned Sally, but as far as she could recall, she’d never talked to him about Nicky and how fashion-conscious she was.
She couldn’t help wondering about him further when, once he’d taken what he wanted from the safe, he began to mooch around behind reception, despite her imminent heart attack.
‘Louis, we need to go,’ she urged him, close to tears as she kept watch at the front. She was monumentally pissed off with her parents, considering how they’d gone on at her about screwing her life up and then thought nothing of screwing it up for her. If her dad ever found out about this, though, it would kill him.
‘One second,’ Louis said. Then, ‘Shit!’ he cursed, knocking something from one of the desks. Her mum’s vitamin pills, along with her pen holder, Millie realised, scurrying around to retrieve the bottle as it rolled.
‘Well, well. Not that bright, is she, that little receptionist?’ Louis commented from where he was now crouched down peering up at the underside of Nicky’s desk, on which she’d taped her passwords.
Thirty-One
Jake
Jake sat on the drive for a while before going in. He’d thought that he and Emily might be making the tiniest bit of headway towards getting back to some sort of normality, despite the atrocities happening around them. Now he had no idea what to think. What to say to her. He was desperate for them to talk to each other calmly, but after what he’d just found out, he was struggling to see a way forward. Drugs were going missing from the surgery. He hadn’t been sure the first time he’d noticed stocks were low. He was sure now. It could only be her. It was Emily who did the stock check and the ordering of medication to be kept on the premises. Emily who kept the keys to the safe they were locked in. Emily who was taking unprescribed drugs. How the hell was he supposed to talk to her about that?
Running a hand over his neck, he glanced towards the house. He had no choice but to ask her about it. He couldn’t ignore it. It wasn’t just amphetamines being taken. There were painkillers and antipsychotic drugs missing too. Whatever the consequences, he was duty-bound to report it. Even stripped from their packaging, batch numbers meant the drugs could be traced back to the surgery. Aside from which, his own conscience wouldn’t allow him to stay silent in the hope of establishing for certain who was stealing drugs, and why. The consequences for anyone taking non-prescription drugs might be fatal.
He tugged in a breath and pushed his car door open. He’d never imagined he could feel like this. He didn’t want to go inside his own home. Worse, he felt his family would rather he didn’t. Millie was clearly angry and troubled, retaliating to her world unravelling around her by challenging boundaries and possibly jeopardising her future. Ben was furious with him, as indicated by the cutting sarcasm in his voice when Jake had tried to apologise to him. Despite his best efforts, everything was spiralling out of control and he had no power to stop it. He only hoped his relationship with his children was mendable. Being caught in the middle of warring parents was soul-destroying. Jake knew all about that. As for Emily, he was scared for her. For himself. The whole village community. People’s lives were being maliciously and systematically destroyed through information gathered from his surgery, the place that should be saving lives, and he had no power to stop that either.
Pushing his key into the lock, he wondered at the irony of his situation. He’d thought his father was a total fuck-up, been determined not to be seen as anything like him. It seemed now he was worse, by far. Certainly in Emily’s eyes.
Meeting Ben in the hall, he tried a smile. ‘Hi, how’s it going?’
‘Pretty shittily, as it happens.’ Ben smiled flatly back.
‘Right.’ Jake had no idea what to say to that. ‘Ben, I—’
He was about to ask him if they could go for a drink together in the hope of trying to have a proper conversation, but Ben cut him short. ‘Mum’s in the kitchen,’ he said, nodding over his shoulder and then more or less pushing past Jake towards the stairs.
‘Right.’ Jake glanced warily in that direction.
‘Just so you know, no earphones,’ Ben added acerbically, pointing to his ears.
Understanding that his son was warning him that he would be listening for any hint of an argument, Jake buried a sigh. ‘Where’s Millie?’ he asked.
‘Out,’ Ben said, sliding a derisory glance in his direction as he mounted the stairs. ‘Not that she knew you were coming home early or anything.’
It hurt that his kids suddenly seemed to hate him. Jake gulped back a tight knot in his throat.
Dropping his phone and keys on the table, he steeled himself and went through to the kitchen. Emily was stuffing things into the dishwasher. She didn’t acknowledge him, or even appear to notice him as he dumped his case in its usual spot.
He felt his heart go into free fall. What had happened? he wondered, feeling disorientated. Just a short time ago he would have walked over to her, massaged her shoulders when she straightened up and then kissed his way down the tempting soft curve of her neck. She would have chastised him for interrupting whatever she was doing, but she would always turn and lean into him. Now, like Ben, she seemed not to want to even make eye contact.
‘Is there anything I can do to help?’ he asked, though glancing around, he could see the kitchen was pristine. In her frustration, Emily had obviously been cleaning everything to within an inch of its life. Memories of his mother compulsively cleaning, of her manic behaviour in the dark days before her death assaulting him out of nowhere, Jake reeled inwardly. Standing in his own kitchen, his wife just feet away from him, his son upstairs, he felt suddenly and hopelessly alone. It was his own fault. She was paranoid, and behaving erratically because of the drugs, but he knew in his heart that it was his behaviour that had helped fuel it.
‘It’s all done,’ she said, clanging the dishwasher door closed, sending out a signal that, regardless of the small step they’d made towards each other earlier, they were poles apart again. ‘You managed to get back early then? I’m surprised,’ she added, before he could answer. ‘I thought after the news you received you might have cause to be out celebrating.’
Out celebrating? There was precious little to celebrate as far as Jake could see. He looked at her askance. ‘What news?’
‘You know, the text you received,’ Emily answered, glancing at him with a short smile. ‘Sally told me herself earlier. I imagine you’re both ecstatic, though I can’t imagine Dave will be. I take it you’ll be moving out?’
What the …? Jake almost dropped through the floor. She was talking about Sally’s news that she was pregnant? Imagining the baby was his because of some text that had quite obviously been sent by someone aiming to cause trouble?
‘Jesus Christ, Emily, can you hear yourself?’ He’d spent the time after the police had gone looking at discreet treatment programmes for her. He cared about her. How the hell was he supposed to convince her of it?
‘I was reasonably civil to Sally, you’ll be pleased to know. I even congratulated her, although I did feel like killing her, obviously,’ Emily went on, busying herself wiping work surfaces that were perfectly clean and completely oblivious to the implication of what s
he’d just said.
‘For Christ’s sake! It’s nothing to do with me!’ he yelled, making her start. ‘That text was sent as part of the cruel, manipulative communications that are destroying so many people’s lives, can you not see that?’
‘All of which are based on information that’s true,’ Emily pointed out.
Jake nodded, watching her carefully.
‘Like the email,’ she added, looking him over scornfully.
Jake felt his temper dangerously close to the surface. ‘What fucking email?’ he challenged her. ‘The one you deleted? The one sent by … who? Sally? Natasha?’
‘Don’t make me say it, Jake.’ Emily dropped her gaze. ‘This is humiliating enough without you—’
‘Did you get it into your head I was having an affair with Zoe Miller and Jennifer Wheeler as well?’ His jaw tight with anger, he ignored her. ‘Is that why Zoe ended up plummeting from her balcony and Jennifer had her stomach pumped?’ He’d told himself it couldn’t be her sending the letters; that he knew her. But now, with the discovery that drugs were being taken from the surgery, he was beginning to think he didn’t know her at all.
Emily paled visibly. ‘That’s a wicked thing to say, Jake,’ she said shakily. ‘I don’t know what you’re trying to do to me, but it won’t work.’
Jake studied her. There was no point even trying to answer that. ‘There are drugs missing from the safe,’ he said bluntly. He couldn’t do this, skirt around it. He didn’t know what the hell was going on, but he clearly couldn’t contemplate doing nothing. ‘Did you take them?’
Emily baulked. ‘You really are serious, aren’t you?’ Searching his face, she laughed bewilderedly. ‘Is this part of the plan too? This evil game you’re playing to … what? Drive me away? Drive me mad, so that everyone says, Oh dear, poor Jake, having to put up with his deranged wife. It’s no wonder he had an affair?’
Trust Me: An absolutely gripping and unputdownable psychological thriller Page 20
