Becky laughed, that gorgeous sexy laugh, deep in her throat.
‘No,’ she assured him, with a roll of her eyes.
‘Go.’ Flapping him towards the door, she reached for her dressing gown from the bed.
‘I’m gone.’ Matthew collected his jacket and headed for the door.
‘Got your inhaler?’ Becky reminded him.
Matthew patted around his pockets. ‘Yep. Catch you later.’ He glanced at her over his shoulder, not quite able to believe he was about to leave unfinished business in the bedroom with his wife invitingly, gorgeously naked.
‘Love you,’ Becky said, as he disappeared onto the landing.
‘Ditto,’ Matthew called behind him, then, ‘Ashley,’ he shouted down to where she was watching TV. ‘We have to go. Are you ready?’
Becky was slipping into her dressing gown when he peered back in. Gorgeous. Matthew watched her for a second.
‘I love you. More than my life,’ he amended softly, walking across to her to give her a parting kiss.
‘You too, bump.’ He bent to place another kiss on her tummy. ‘Behave yourself,’ he said, addressing it firmly, then turned again for the door.
‘We’ll do our best, but we can’t promise,’ Becky called after him. ‘Drive carefully, Matthew.’
****
Matthew sighed and glanced back to the windscreen. No amount of persuading seemed to convince Ashley that psychiatric care didn’t mean she would end up back in care.
‘Ashley, you’re staying with us, okay?’ he tried again, vying for her attention with whatever she was plugged into on her phone.
‘Given it’s what you want, your home will always be with us, you know that. Or you should.’
He decided not to go over old ground. Guilt over the freak as she’d labelled him, he’d managed to persuade her was wasted emotion. That bastard had pushed her to the limit, he’d told her that. Convinced her that no one would have blamed her. At least, he hoped he had. Matthew certainly hadn’t wasted too much time worrying over Sullivan. The forensics on the nail file coming up with no incriminating DNA had shaken him to the core, making Matthew wonder if he really was as much a cold, sadistic killer as Sullivan had been. He would have taken the shot. Knowing no other way of ensuring his family wouldn’t live in constant fear of their lives, whether Sullivan was banged up or not, he would have shot to kill, making it definitely murder in Matthew’s mind. Since that day, though, when he’d agonised about whether he’d made the right decision regarding Ashley’s part in it, seeing their baby grow, seeing Ashley grow emotionally, despite this latest blip, he’d called it quid pro quo and tried to relegate it to history.
The dreams would always haunt him. Becky too, who still cried in her sleep. Ashley he wasn’t sure about. Christ, he hoped he’d made a right decision that day.
‘Ashley?’ He glanced sideways at her.
Concentrating on scraping the black polish from her thumbnail, Ashley only dropped her gaze further.
‘The condition is manageable, Ashley,’ Matthew tried to alleviate her fears, but wasn’t quite sure how. She’d gone quiet on hearing the diagnosis, which meant the psychiatric assessment hadn’t gone as well as it might.
‘With counselling and the right medication, we can do this; together, as we discussed. You will need to go to your follow-up appointments, though. Do you think you can do that?’
So far, so good. Matthew sighed again, despairingly, as Ashley turned her attention away from him to glance out of the side window. He wasn’t doing such a great job on the parenting front if he couldn’t even communicate with her, was he?
‘Ashley?’
Still, Ashley didn’t look at him. ‘I don’t want to.’ She shrugged moodily.
That much Matthew had gathered.
‘Okay, so,’ he ran a hand over his neck, ‘talk to me, Ashley. Tell me why. I promise I’ll do my best to understand.’
Ashley said nothing for a while, then, ‘You can’t. You don’t.’
Matthew wasn’t quite sure what to say to that.
‘No, I probably don’t,’ he conceded, ‘but I want to. Talk to me …’ Matthew stopped, his eyes shooting worriedly to his hands-free as his mobile rang. Seeing it wasn’t Becky, he hesitated, but then being there meant being there for Steve too. He owed the man, big time. ‘One minute,’ he said apologetically to Ashley and took the call.
‘All right, boss?’ Steve said, sounding chipper. Matthew truly was in awe of how he always did. Even when Matthew had first seen him at the hospital, flat on his back, in a brace for at least five weeks, still Steve’s droll sense of humour had been intact.
‘Yep, good,’ Matthew assured him. ‘Still expecting.’ He gave him an update on his imminent fatherhood.
‘Blimey, she’s determined to hang on to that one, isn’t she?’
‘Definitely.’ Matthew smiled, recalling how Becky had clawed her way back from the brink, determined to be there, for Ashley, for him, to stay healthy for the sake of their baby. He was in awe of her, too. Always would be.
‘Sorry, Steve, can I call you back?’ he asked. ‘I’m just in the middle of something with Ashley.’
‘Oh, right, no problem. It was just to let you know we got it: the dog kennels and rescue centre out in Worcestershire. It’s pretty spot on for what we want. The living accommodation is the pits, though, so if you fancy a little DIY sometime? Assuming you have the time, that is?’
‘I’m your man,’ Matthew assured him, although he wasn’t entirely sure he was into viewing dilapidated properties.
‘Excellent.’ Steve, who still struggled with some pain, but was determined not to give into it, sounded well-pleased.
‘I’ll catch you later. Good luck with the sleepless nights.’
‘Cheers, Steve.’ Reminded of the downside to new parenthood, Matthew smiled and rang off. ‘So,’ he turned his attention back to Ashley, ‘are we talking?’
Still nothing but mute silence.
‘Ashley? You need to help me out here. I can’t help you unless you talk to me. Can’t you at least tell me why you’re so adamant you won’t go to the appointments?’
Ashley drew in a breath, physically drawing up her shoulders. ‘Because they’ll think I’m loopy,’ she said, immediately deflating again.
Matthew wasn’t sure what to say there either. ‘You have mental health issues,’ he opted for. ‘It’s not a crime. Most of the population does at some time or …’
‘Do you really want someone with mental health issues around your new baby?’ Ashley said then, flooring him completely.
Matthew considered: how the hell was he supposed to respond to that? Truthfully, he supposed.
‘Okay, I’m going to be blunt here, Ashley, because I think you’re mature enough to realise why. I’ve seen too many runaways your age, too many broken spirits, broken bodies, to allow that to happen to you. Yes, I do want you around. We want you around and not out of some misguided sense of duty or moral obligation. You’re family. We’re related by blood and, while I might not be your father, I am your uncle, and I love you. Becky and I—’
‘Matthew, stop!!’ Ashley cut in determinedly.
Right. Matthew shook his head. That worked. So where did he go from here?
‘Ashley … You have to trust us. I know it’s not easy but—’
‘Matthew! Stop!’ Ashley screamed it this time.
Matthew couldn’t quite believe it when the dashboard died, causing someone to plough into the back of them as the car rolled to a stop. He was less able to comprehend the juggernaut jumping the traffic lights directly in front of him. If he’d gone on, he realised, his heart flipping over in his chest, there would have been nothing left of his car but scrap metal.
THE END
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Death Sentence Page 29
