Pretty Little Things

by T. M. E. Walsh

  He gives me a look that makes my skin crawl. I go into the living room again, eyes scanning it for any sign that Elle might have been there.

  ‘No news on Elle then, I take it?’ he says.

  I slowly turn to stare at him.

  ‘I do worry about her.’

  Unease starts to creep in and I wish I hadn’t come here alone. ‘What do you know about it?’

  ‘About her being missing? Nothing.’

  ‘If you’ve touched her. Harmed her . . .’

  He laughs. ‘As if I would. Elle’s who you should be focusing on, though, don’t you think? Rather than our indiscretion . . .’

  ‘What?’ I can’t believe what I’m hearing. ‘There was no indiscretion.’

  ‘Oh, come now, Charlotte,’ he says, edging closer to me. ‘Can you really be sure? What with your memory loss, and all the stress you’ve been under?’

  ‘I remember perfectly well.’

  He gives me a smile and I have an urge to just swing at him, wipe it off his face.

  ‘I wanted you,’ he says. ‘I always have. Still do . . . Iain doesn’t have to know about us.’

  I’m horrified. ‘There is no us.’

  ‘Is that right? I wouldn’t say there’s nothing, would you? Iain can see it, Elle too. We’ve grown closer, and you don’t tell Iain about us meeting. If there’s nothing to hide, why not tell him? If you didn’t have feelings for me, it wouldn’t matter, would it?’

  I feel the edges of more memories of that day drifting just in the forefront of my mind, slightly out of reach. I need to make sense of it. I feel so lightheaded I sit in the chair nearest to me.

  ‘Charlotte,’ he says, voice now teasing. It makes my skin crawl. ‘Charlotte,’ he says again and drops down so he’s kneeling beside me.

  His hands reach for my legs, wrap around my calves, and I can feel an almost molten heat burning through the fabric of my jeans and licking at my skin.

  His eyes look darker now, and I am rigid like stone, staring at the predator at my feet.

  ‘The day of the accident, I was going to tell Iain . . . you followed me.’

  His hands slide around and move up over my knees, up towards my thighs. ‘I’m glad you’re starting to remember. I never did like lying to you.’

  He shifts, so he is face to face with me. His breath hot on my skin.

  ‘I was going to tell Iain . . .’

  ‘Hmmm,’ he murmurs and leans in. His lips touch mine.

  I see it clearly in my mind now. ‘And you knew what I was going to do. You knew how he’d react if he knew . . .’

  The memory comes back, hazy then jagged. A flash of images in quick succession, emerging from the darkness.

  I close my eyes as his mouth moves from my lips, to my cheek, to my neck.

  I see my hands, gripping the steering wheel in my car. The road ahead is clear my side of the road, and in the other lane next to me for oncoming traffic.

  I can feel the adrenaline pumping through my body; I was scared and I was trying to stay alert to the road ahead, but my eye was drawn to the rear-view mirror.

  The car behind me is tailgating. Headlights are flashing. The horn is sounding sporadically. I can see it’s John. He’s trying to get me to pull over because he knows I’m about to tell Iain.

  He tries to come alongside me. I scream as he just clips the corner of my bumper. I fight to control the car, my knuckles turning white.

  Now he’s coming up on my left-hand side as we near the bend in the road.

  In that moment I edge into the other lane for oncoming traffic.

  I am face to face with the HGV driven by Paul Selby.

  His face is lowered, he’s looking at his mobile. He looks up just as I attempt to move back over but he smashes into the side of my car and I’m spinning, my body feeling like I’ve been hit with a jackhammer to the chest.

  The car spins, and spins . . . I scream.

  John’s mouth is back on mine, his hands sliding between my inner thighs as he gently parts my legs.

  I bite down on his lip.

  Hard.

  He cries out and pushes himself away from me. He loses his balance and hits the floor, sprawled on his back. He looks up at me, indignant.

  Little beads of blood have risen above the surface on his lower lip. He licks at them with the tip of his tongue and then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He glances at the blood smeared on his skin.

  ‘I take it you remember.’

  ‘I do. All of it, you sick fuck.’

  ‘You should be grateful.’

  ‘You caused me to veer into the other lane. Paul Selby’s been telling the truth all this time. It was me.’ My eyes lock on to his, defiant. ‘It was you.’

  ‘Hey,’ he says, pushing himself to his feet and standing over me. ‘I lied for you. If it weren’t for me, you’d be in deeper shit.’

  ‘I’ll tell them what happened, what you did. You caused all this.’ I get up from the chair.

  ‘I also pulled you from the wreck, or have you forgotten that part?’

  He jabs at his chest with his thumb. ‘I was there for you, every step of the way. Where was Iain? Where was Elle? They don’t appreciate you, Charlotte. You’re not worth anything to them, not really . . . I. Saved. Your. Life.’

  I can’t take all of this. I grip the sides of my head with both hands and shake myself. ‘This can’t be happening,’ I say as the enormity sinks in. ‘This is all going to shit.’

  ‘Think how shit it’d be if I hadn’t lied for you?’ He closes the gap between us. ‘I’m risking a lot here too, you know.’

  I think of Elle, how all this is so screwed up, but I can’t let John get in the way of what’s more important right now.

  There’s a bang on the door then.

  Both John and I look at the window.

  I see Iain’s van on the pavement outside.

  So does John, judging by the look he’s now giving me.

  ‘What have you told him?’ he says, voice panicked.

  ‘Nothing.’

  Another bang on the door makes us both jump.

  ‘It must have been Savannah.’

  ‘You’ve spoken to her about all this?’

  I push him out of my way and head to the hall. He grips my arm, pulls me back, his hand covering my mouth, muffling my scream.

  He pulls me into his body, holds me tight.

  ‘Shhh, calm down. I won’t hurt you. Let’s just think this through.’

  I try to push him off but he’s too strong, arms squeezing me tight like a vice.

  ‘Think about all this. What’s more important right now? Huh?’ he says, pulling at my face, so I can’t avoid his eyes.

  ‘You go telling Iain all about what you’ve remembered, and what do you think will happen? Either Iain’s going to attack me and he’ll get done for assault, or he’ll be so angry at you, he’ll drop you in it, and call the police on us both.’

  Iain starts to bang on the door with more force and I hear him call both our names.

  John’s distracted by him so I take the chance to really shove him back. It works. He releases his grip on me and falls back into the wall.

  His look of surprise doesn’t last, and he focuses his attention on me.

  ‘He’ll never believe there hasn’t been anything more on your part where I’m concerned and, let’s face it, I can be very convincing. I won’t let him think otherwise.’

  ‘Fuck you,’ I choke out.

  He points in the direction of the front door. ‘What’s it going to be? Have you thought about what he might do to us both?’

  He watches the shock on my face at what he’s suggesting.

  ‘It’s irrelevant anyway, because whatever he does to you, to me, it’ll mean you can’t find Elle.’

  ‘Open the door, John, I know Charlotte’s in there,’ Iain says from the other side of the front door. ‘I can see her car parked in the street.’

  John and I both look at each other.r />
  ‘Be smart,’ he says. ‘Elle needs you both to help find her.’

  ‘Don’t you use my daughter against me.’

  He edges closer to me. ‘Why isn’t Iain more focused on finding Elle?’

  I can’t answer him.

  ‘Hmm?’ He cocks his head to one side, trying to bait me, reel me in. ‘If she were my daughter, I’d be moving heaven and earth to find her.’

  A sob escapes my throat.

  ‘Ah, Charlotte,’ he says. ‘He thinks she’s just run away, doesn’t he?’

  A tear rolls down my cheek and I feel giddy. My mind seems to go blank and I hear John’s voice but it’s like it’s a million miles away and I can’t understand his words.

  ‘… I believe you, though . . .’

  I’m brought back in an instant, fully alert.

  ‘I believe you,’ he says again. ‘She’s in trouble.’

  I try to find a trace of deceit in his eyes and a strangled sound escapes my lips.

  He raises his hands in an attempt to calm me. ‘All I’m asking you to do is think of the bigger picture here.’

  ‘An innocent man could go to prison.’

  ‘Paul Selby isn’t completely innocent, is he? He was driving while distracted. Who knows what might have happened had he been allowed to travel further. Some poor fuck in another car might not have been as lucky as you.’

  I can’t think straight; my head is swamped. ‘I can’t have him go to prison. I can’t have it on my conscience.’

  ‘If he hadn’t been on his phone, he would’ve avoided you altogether.’

  ‘And if you hadn’t made me veer into the other lane, none of this would’ve happened.’

  I can see the cracks in him grow wider. ‘You’re not seriously this naïve, are you? You meeting me, keeping it from Iain? What did you think this was, is?’

  I avoid his eyes.

  ‘You knew what I wanted. What I’ve always wanted since the moment I first saw you. You can’t treat me like this,’ he says. ‘I can take away what’s dear to you, or I can help you find Elle. I’m the only one who truly believes you, that she hasn’t just run away with her friend.’

  It feels like my heart skips a beat and my insides twist at the meaning of his words.

  Iain hammers on the door again before I can react to John’s threat. My mobile goes off at the same time. I check the caller ID.

  ‘It’s Iain,’ I say.

  John looks scared now, desperate. ‘Is this all worth ruining your life for?’

  I look at him and wonder what I ever saw in him. He’s not the man or friend I thought he was.

  ‘But you expect me to help ruin someone else’s,’ I say. A statement not a question.

  ‘None of us is that selfless, Charlotte. We’re all weak and selfish and… God damn it!’ he spits, as Iain hammers at the door again when my phone stops ringing. ‘He’ll have the neighbours call the police for us if they haven’t already. Then we’re both fucked, and so is Elle . . . right now, when someone has your daughter.’

  ‘You’d better not be lying.’

  He shakes his head. ‘Elle’s selfish, arrogant, but she wouldn’t run away.’

  A silence falls then.

  I look to the window, wonder if maybe Iain’s given up, but right on cue he bangs on the door again.

  ‘Iain will never let you help us find Elle.’

  He shrugs. ‘So let me help, quietly in the background. He doesn’t have to know.’

  I look to John and I’m torn.

  Iain hammers on the door again, making me jump.

  John raises his eyebrows at me.

  ‘What’s it going to be?’

  *

  When I open the front door and see Iain’s face, it’s bright red with anger, sweat beading at his forehead. There’s a sadness in his eyes, too, and it breaks my heart to see it.

  What am I doing here? What am I doing to us?

  ‘What the hell’s going on, Char?’

  CHAPTER 50

  John stared at his face in the bathroom mirror. He had appeared calm when Charlotte had let Iain in the house. He’d been calm as they both sat in his living room.

  He’d been smug as Charlotte lied to her husband.

  He could see it pained her, even if Iain bought the mask she was hiding behind.

  He had smiled inwardly that she was so easy to manipulate. He doubted she’d ever feel clean again.

  She’d lied to her husband and now there was no going back.

  He had something he could use, hold over her head, and he knew she’d soon come around to giving him what he wanted.

  She’d have no one else to turn to but him.

  Iain had been suspicious. Why was she there? Why had she gone to see Savannah? Why had Savannah called him, worried about Charlotte being alone with John?

  Why had it taken so long to open the door?

  John had stepped in then, easing the stress on Charlotte.

  He’d told Iain that Charlotte had been having flashes of memory from the day of the accident. She’d needed to clarify things with him, and Savannah must’ve misunderstood the situation. She always did have an overactive imagination . . .

  There’s no smoke without fire.

  John had seen that thought cross Iain’s face but he stayed silent anyway. Listened to it all.

  John played on his emotions. His love for his daughter.

  Right now, your first concern is Elle, he’d said.

  John had been pleased that Iain had stood there listening to his spiel, delivered like a pro.

  When they’d left the house, John caught the look on Charlotte’s face.

  It was defiance and it was only then that he’d started to doubt himself. Doubt he had the power to continue to manipulate her.

  John returned his attention to his reflection in the mirror and saw the dark circles under his eyes.

  The knock at the door was hard, startling him.

  He hoped it wasn’t Iain, come back to confront him now Charlotte had left in her own car.

  Whatever he’d been expecting when he answered the door, it wasn’t this.

  ‘John Hague?’

  Madeleine and Charis flashed their warrant cards. ‘I’m Detective Inspector Madeleine Wood and this is Detective Constable Charis Braithwaite.’

  He eyed their credentials briefly, then looked between them both.

  Maybe Charlotte’s caved. Maybe she’s talked, he thought.

  ‘We’re from Chiltern & South Bucks police station. That’s the local policing area for Thames Valley Police Major Crime Unit.’

  John frowned. ‘CID?’

  Madeleine exchanged a look with Charis, then turned her attention back to John. She tried to get the measure of him. ‘That’s right,’ she said. ‘May we have a word?’

  ‘What’s this about?’

  ‘It’d be better if we came in,’ Madeleine said and stepped over the threshold.

  *

  John offered them both a seat but he remained standing, arms across his chest. ‘I didn’t run a red light or anything, did I?’ He laughed to himself, until he clocked the look they were both giving him.

  ‘No,’ Madeleine said. ‘Ruby Tate? You’re acquainted with her, I believe?’

  He looked a little taken back.

  ‘Well, I’m not acquainted with her, not as such. I mean, I know who she is. She’s Paul Selby’s girlfriend. I’m due to be a witness at his trial soon.’

  ‘When was the last time you saw Ruby?’

  He puffed out his cheeks. ‘I don’t recall. Maybe at the hospital after the accident. Paul was at the hospital being checked over after Charlotte Monroe had been taken to ICU. I saw her then, in the corridor.’ He looked between them both. ‘That was, what, six months ago?’

  ‘You haven’t seen her since then?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You’re very sure.’

  ‘I am, Inspector. Ruby’s not someone to forget. You must know she attacked poor Charlotte the othe
r week?’

  Madeleine nodded. ‘We do, but that’s not why we’re here.’

  John looked at her, smiled and shrugged. ‘Well, why are you here? I mean, help a guy out.’ He laughed.

  ‘Ruby’s gone missing.’

  John looked surprised and shrugged again. ‘That’s unfortunate. I’m sorry to hear that, but what has that got to do with me?’

  ‘You’re positive the last time you saw Ruby was six months ago?’

  ‘Or thereabouts . . .’

  ‘You haven’t seen her around the area at all?’ Charis said.

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘I would’ve remembered.’

  Madeleine pulled a sheet of paper from the folder she’d brought in with her. She handed it to him.

  He looked at the printout of Ruby’s mobile-phone records, at the number highlighted.

  ‘It’s clearly time-stamped,’ she said. John looked at her then. ‘That is your mobile number, isn’t it?’

  John handed the sheet back to her.

  ‘A little more recent than six months ago, isn’t it?’

  She watched his face as he finally made eye contact.

  ‘All right, so I’ve had contact with her recently. Before that, I’d run into her, here in Bronze Mead. She’d been following me.’

  That got Madeleine’s attention. ‘Why?’

  ‘She’s convinced the accident wasn’t her boyfriend’s fault. She blames Charlotte. She also blames me because I was a witness that day and she doesn’t want to hear the truth.’

  ‘Why lie about it?’ Madeleine said.

  He shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I guess I panicked. I mean, you’re telling me she’s missing and I was one of the last people to have contact with her.’

  ‘How’d you know that? That you were one of the last?’

  ‘Are you really going to play this game?’ he said. ‘You wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t, would you?’

  Madeleine remained standing as Charis walked to the window. It made John nervous, she could tell.

  ‘What was the nature of your conversations?’ Madeleine said. ‘Bearing in mind I can get access to text messages.’

  John threw her a look.

  ‘I’ve nothing to hide. Ruby wanted to talk to me about changing my story, about what really happened – or, rather, what Paul says really happened.’ He looked at Charis as she turned to face him.

  ‘I told her I couldn’t lie for them. She told me some sob story and I knew she wanted to try and persuade me, but I was having none of it.’