by Matt Shaw
With the computer returned to how she had found it, she crept out onto the hallway and down to their bedroom. As soon as she was in, she closed the door behind her and hurried over to Jason’s bedside cabinet where she knew he kept a notebook on the off-chance new ideas came to him during the night.
Without a second thought, she picked the pen up - which was next to the book - before tearing a page from the back of the notebook. A quick check over her shoulder and a pause to make sure she couldn’t hear Jason coming to see what she had torn - or even just to talk to her. Nothing. He was still playing in the other room.
Leaning on the bedside cabinet, she quickly jotted down the families surname, along with the first names, and the father’s job. With her notes scribbled, she folded the paper and slipped it into her trouser pocket where she knew it would be safe until morning. Knowing she had a good place to start, with trying to track down the mother and father, she actually felt happy about having to go to work the following day.
* * * * *
“You told your work colleagues?”
Jason was talking to Emily as they walked down the country road - hand in hand. She had been telling him why she was suddenly prepared to give things a go with the living arrangements, despite the conversation they had had in the morning.
“Only Annie,” Emily said. “I needed to talk to someone. You told Travis.”
“No - I told Travis you were pregnant. I didn’t mention Josh. I knew he wouldn’t be able to keep his mouth shut - even if he didn’t believe me, word would have spread and people would have come around to see for themselves. We don’t need that. Not yet. Not ever. What did you say exactly?”
“Are you angry?” Emily asked, genuine concern in her voice.
“I’m not angry - I just thought we were going to keep it quiet.”
“You have to understand I needed someone to talk to!” she said trying to defend herself.
“You could have talked to me!”
“We only argued. Come on, it doesn’t matter. She won’t say anything and, besides, she helped me see it from your point of view. It’s because of her we’re walking down the road together now instead of back home arguing about living there anymore.”
“So how did she change your mind?”
Emily panicked. She hadn’t thought that far ahead. She just presumed Jason would be happy in the knowledge she was prepared to give it a go despite what she had said in the morning. “Does it matter?” she asked, stalling.
“Guess not,” he replied, much to her relief.
Emily tried to sound casual when she asked, “Do you think he’s with us now?”
Jason looked around and shrugged, “Does it matter? I’m just enjoying your company.” He gripped her hand tighter.
“No - was just curious.” Emily tried to hide the fact that the thought of the boy, with them, made her feel on edge. She smiled at Jason, “We should have done this sooner, it’s nice.”
Jason smiled back, “Enjoy it whilst you can. Soon you’ll be waddling along like a duck. Big belly sticking out in front of you.” He laughed.
Emily snatched her hand away from his grip in a playful strop, “You know how to make a woman feel loved! Thanks for that!”
He took her hand back into his, “I’m joking. Well I’m not...You’ll be waddling everywhere. And you’ll definitely have a big belly. Never seen a pregnant woman without one yet.”
She glared at him as he laughed a little harder. All the time they were walking and mucking about, she kept thinking - if she can keep up the pretense, like this, for long enough - soon it would just be the two of them and their bump.
With her mind clearly fixed on the end goal she smiled at him and said, “I do love you.”
Clearly not in the mood for a proper full-on country romance saga Jason replied, “Of course you do. Why wouldn’t you? You seen what I’m working with? I am hot property.”
Emily laughed, “Yeah - okay then, Johnny Depp!”
Jason turned to her and pulled her body into his embrace, “So - fancy...You know...”
She smiled, “Fancy what?” she teased.
“You know what...Fancy going back and....?”
“Watch the television? I’m sure my soaps are about to start...”
“Not what I had in mind,” he winked.
“Dinner?”
“Do I have to spell it out?”
She laughed, “Come on - let’s go home.” They turned around, in the road, and started back in the direction from whence they had come, still hand in hand. “You should see Travis soon,” Emily suggested - knowing exactly what she was trying to achieve. “You haven’t been out with him for ages. Since months before our wedding, in fact.”
“Maybe,” said Jason, “I’ve just been busy.”
Emily didn’t say anything else. The seed being sown was enough.
21.
Emily was sitting in her office. The door closed to allow her privacy as she decided what to do with her current predicament. She knew the father’s name. She knew his old place of work, not that she knew how this latter piece of information would help her out initially. The only problem was the guilt she woke up with, after a lovely evening with Jason, knowing she was lying to the man she loved. And she did love him. Last night, trying her best to put the dead boy out of her mind, reminded her just how much so.
She hated herself for not being able to live with the spirit - and supposedly the spirit of the dog although there was no sign of Roald other than Josh saying he was with him - but, no matter how nice the previous night was, she couldn’t get him out of her mind. Was he there? Was he watching them? At night - when they went to bed together and made love - she still couldn’t get him out of her mind; something which forced her to make sure Jason was happy in double quick time so she could finally relax. Which thankfully didn’t take too long - all things considered.
She took a deep breath and fired up the Internet on her work machine. At least doing it at work gave her the privacy she needed - from both Josh and Jason. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the note she had scribbled the previous evening. A quick unfolding and she placed it to the side of the monitor screen where it was easy to read.
“It’s the only way,” she told herself.
She typed the name ‘Josh Tomsett’ into her preferred search engine, followed by the word ‘accident’. Once done - she hit the enter key and waited for the office’s broadband to load the pages the search engine fed back to her. The top result was the one she recognised as the one from the computer at home - a local news summary explaining what had happened. She didn’t click into it. Instead she went back to the search function and put the name ‘Ian’ into the search preferences - along with what was previously written. Another ‘enter’ and more pages loaded up. Again, the top one was the same as she had previously seen.
“No, that’s not it,” she said out loud. She knew from the quick glimpse she had of the page, yesterday, that it didn’t have the current known whereabouts of the parents. She sat back in her leather chair. The next choices, further down the list, didn’t even look as though they were to do with any of the family. Clearly the search engine had picked up choice words and was feeding anything back which it thought was remotely close; some information about a boy called Josh Tomsett who lived in America and was studying at some university. A Josh Tomsett who was a musician. Links to facebook pages for various people with names similar to Josh and Ian Tomsett. Nothing of use. She shook her head and muttered under her breath, “Not as easy as I thought it was going to be. Wait a minute, what’s this?” she spotted another link - close to the bottom of the page. Another news article but this time about an Aimee Tomsett. She clicked into it and was sat, mouth agape, when she started to read the article.
According to the website which loaded up - Aimee, mother of Josh Tomsett, had been admitted into a psychiatric hospital after a feared breakdown. It read how she had suffered from insomnia and delusions about seeing her dead son
- delusions which apparently ceased after she had moved from the house where the boy was killed in an accident.
Emily couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness. She couldn’t even imagine what the family, and their friends, had gone through after the death of their son. A life so young, snatched away so cruelly. The website mentioned the husband - apparently a source had tried to talk to him about what was happening but he declined to comment further than wishing to be left alone to rebuild his family.
“Ah ha!” Emily sat up close to the monitor. The website mentioned his place of work. The same place the other site had mentioned. “Of course,” she murmured, “should have tried that first.”
Quickly she closed the site and entered the name of the company into the search bar. A long foreign sounding name - she had no idea what they offered their clients but it certainly looked as though it was the sort of place that’d offer a decent wage to anyone who worked there. She scanned the homepage of the site and moved the mouse cursor across to the section which invited visitors to contact them.
“Please have a phone number,” she whispered to herself. She double-clicked the mouse and the page loaded up. A sigh of relief when she spotted what she was looking for - a phone number. Without that, she knew she’d have been screwed for using this as a way in too. They would never have answered an email. With the page not leaving her screen she immediately reached over to the telephone, on the desk next to the computer, and lifted the receiver. She paused and put it down again. She knew they’d never transfer her. She needed a cover story in order to get through to him; make sure he’d take her call. She smiled slyly and quickly copied the number from the screen onto the piece of paper where she had scribbled yesterday’s notes. A few back clicks on the browser and she was back to the news article about the man’s wife. More importantly - back to where she could learn where Aimee had been sent. It wasn’t the most honest of ways to get to talk to her husband but she figured, pretending to be from the hospital, it would - at least - work.
“The Priory,” she muttered. She knew of the Priory - not from having been there or knowing anyone who had been there but because it wasn’t actually very far from where they lived - situated in the New Forest area. “Should have guessed,” she said. She closed the page down and picked up the telephone - her heart beating nervously in her chest. “Okay, play it cool...”
Carefully, but quickly as though to get it over and done with, Emily dialed the father’s work number onto the phone’s keypad. A few anxious seconds as the button pressing caught up and the line started to ring.
Someone answered. At least it wasn’t a machine. A machine would have been easier to talk to but it wouldn’t have necessarily been heard by anyone.
“Yes, hello, I was wondering whether it would be possible to be put through to Mr Ian Tomsett, please?”
A pause.
“My name?” Emily panicked, she was in such a hurry to get the call out of the way that she didn’t really plan what to say, “This is Nurse Ratched from the Priory - it’s a personal call.” Emily felt her face blush. Not just because she was lying through the back of her teeth but also because she stole the name of one of the most iconic movie characters of all time as though there was no chance of it being recognised by the person on the other end of the line. “Thank you,” Emily said. She tried her best not to sound surprised but struggled when the person on the other end of the line came back saying they’d transfer her to Ian.
She panicked again. What should she call him? Ian? Mr Tomsett? Whatever - she thought it best to come clean immediately, about not being a nurse, on the off chance it made him panic something was wrong with his wife. Well - something worse than being mental anyway.
The phone rang for a couple of seconds before it clicked through to a voice-mail service.
“Dammit,” she muttered before the beep.
The voice-mail invited her to leave her message after the tone.
“Hi - I’m sorry - you don’t actually know me,” she started shakily, “my name is Emily. I moved into the house you used to live in with your wife...” she hesitated, “...and your son, Josh. Please can you return my call - I really need to talk to you. It’s important,” she said. She finished with, “My number is zero, seven, five, five, seven, nine, eight, zero, five, seven, one...Erm...Yeah...I hope to hear from you...Please.” She hung up and just sat there for a moment - shocked at herself for actually managing to go through with it. All she needed to do was wait for him to return the call.
She wondered what she’d do if he didn’t call back. How long should she wait before trying to call through again? What if he called when she was at home with Jason? Would she answer it? She’d have to. Perhaps tell him it was work calling, someone from the office perhaps, and that she’d take it in the other room where he couldn’t hear her.
Suddenly, as if on cue, her mobile phone vibrated on the desk in front of her. Her heart jumped. She reached out, to pick it up, with a shaking hand. It was a text message from Jason. Apparently he loved her loads.
22.
“Everything okay at work?” Jason asked when Emily walked through the door. He was standing in the kitchen doorway with a fresh cup of tea in his hand. “Here, you can have this one,” he said as he held the tea towards Emily, “I’ll make me another one.” He handed the tea over and turned back to the kitchen without waiting for an answer to his original question.
Emily kicked her shoes off and stepped into the kitchen to join him. Straight away she noticed the sugar pot slide towards his hand.
“Get any writing done today?” she asked him, ignoring his original question so as not to feel guilty about having to make up stories.
He shook his head, “I’d be lying if I said yes. But...I did get some other bits and bobs done,” he pointed out.
“Like what?”
“Well - I say I but I actually meant...We...We got some other bits and pieces done. Oh that reminds me - want to see something cool?” his voice suddenly changed to that of an excited school boy. He pointed to the cup of tea as he dropped a tea spoon into it - once he had poured the boiling water. Immediately the spoon started to spin in the cup, stirring around and around. “Seriously - how cool is that?” he asked.
She smiled, “That’s pretty cool,” she lied. A shiver down her back. “Have you managed to get him to change the television channel yet?” Emily asked - trying to show an interest.
Jason took the spoon out of the cup and threw it into the sink, “I hadn’t even thought about that but - yeah - I like the idea. Don’t see why not? What do you say, Josh? If you like the idea stay silent. If you don’t want to be my little slave boy, speak up now...” He paused for a second, “Looks like he likes the idea too,” Jason laughed. “Ooh - want to see what I’ve been doing?” he asked Emily.
“Sure,” she kept the fake smile firmly in place.
“This way,” he said as he walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs.
She followed him up to the nursery area. The door opened before either of them got there and the smell of wet paint wafted from within. Emily cringed as she heard Jason moan he wanted to be the one who showed her.
“What is it?” she asked.
Jason stepped to one side so she could see what he had accomplished with his day. The walls of the room had been painted a nice magnolia colour - a colour which was safe for both boy or girl. The cot was by the window with a musical mobile hanging over the side of it - where it was clamped safely into place. A nice looking rocking chair, meant for adults, situated nearby.
“And that’s why I didn’t do any writing today,” he said - a smile beaming on his face.
“You did all this in one day? How did you get the bits?”
“Travis helped me again. Well - he helped me collect the bits at least...You like?”
“I like?”
A noise from the other corner of the room, to Emily’s side, distracted her. She turned her head and noticed a small plastic race car zipping aro
und the race-track once more.
“That’s staying in here?” she asked.
“For the time being,” said Jason.
“Might keep the baby awake.”
