Keep You Safe

by Rona Halsall

  Katya was quiet for a moment. ‘Makes sense, doesn’t it?’

  Natalie nodded. ‘Like you said. Feels neglected when Harry comes along. Hooks up with his high roller mates again. Gets sucked back into the whole casino thing.’ She let out a long breath, leant her head against the wall.

  ‘So,’ Katya said, working through the logic, ‘he runs out of his own money and starts gambling with his clients’ money. Makes losses, takes more money.’

  Their eyes met, the convincing narrative opening Natalie’s mind to the truth. ‘Then he needs to pay it back, but he can’t. And he can’t face up to the truth. So, he pins it on me.’

  ‘The lying bastard,’ Katya said, kicking the cards all over the floor.

  ‘And he’s stitched me up so well, hasn’t he? Making it look like I’m a drug addict. Nobody believes a word I say. Then he’s so charming, so well connected, that everything he says is taken as the truth. And I’m the liar.’ Natalie thumped the wall in frustration.

  They sat in silence for a moment as Natalie thought it all through. She’d trusted Tom so completely, had even made herself believe that he’d drugged her to help her cope. But what if she trusted herself for a change? What if all those holes in her memory weren’t holes at all? She could hear her teeth grinding.

  It was all Tom. I didn’t do any of it.

  Anger surged through her like water from a burst dam. How could she have been so blind, so stupid? None of this was her fault.

  Katya tucked an arm round Natalie’s shoulders and pulled her close. ‘We’ll get your money back, hun. Don’t you worry. We’ll get it all back.’

  But it wasn’t the money that Natalie wanted. It was her son. And now she understood the game that Tom was playing, he felt further away than ever.

  In the following weeks, she struggled through several frustrating and difficult conversations with the detectives, who were determined that she knew where the money was, until they’d given up, with threats that her sentence would be increased to the maximum possible for her crimes.

  Four weeks later, it was all over.

  Natalie walked out of court towards the prison van telling herself that she’d got off lightly. She’d been given a three-year sentence. In eighteen months, she’d be eligible for parole. Seventeen months, if you took off the time that she’d already served. Harry would still be a toddler when she got out. He’ll soon remember I’m his mum. Forget that she’d ever been away. She leant her head back in her seat as the door closed, fingers twisted together in her lap. It could have been worse.

  Twenty-Four

  Now

  Natalie ends up in a short pedestrianised street that links the main road and the back of Marks & Spencer, puffing and panting after her latest exertions. There’s an odd selection of little shops down either side and she gazes at the costumes in the window of a fancy-dress shop, not really seeing them, as her breathing starts to calm and her mind begins to function once more. There’s another puzzle to solve now; how to follow Tom if she doesn’t know which car he’s driving.

  The only solution is to park somewhere near his office, wait for him to come out and follow him on foot back to his car. Then she’ll have to hope she can dash back to her own car in time to tuck in behind him when he leaves the car park. And that will only be possible if she gets a parking spot in the right place.

  Possible? She chews her lip. Unlikely. But you never know until you try, do you? Worst-case scenario, she’ll at least know which car is his and can try again tomorrow. She leans her head against the window, weary with all these false starts. She’s like a greyhound running around a track after a hare, never quite able to reach it.

  Another day before I find Harry? It’s too long. Puts him at too much risk from Lech. She refuses to ignore the death threats, even if Tom has dismissed them.

  She stands up straight, pushing herself to keep going even though her body is exhausted with all the adrenaline that’s been flushing round her system since she got out of prison. Her jaw clenches. I’ve got to make this work.

  She’s distracted by her phone, making one of its beeping noises, a language of its own that she hasn’t yet learned. It’s a reminder of an event: a meeting with Sasha at one o’clock.

  She frowns. If she’s following Tom at twelve, she can’t be meeting Sasha at one. Anyway, there’s no guarantee that Sasha will even turn up. Not if she’s been shagging Marco all morning. It would be easy to lose track of time, and – knowing what Sasha is like – Natalie calculates that the odds on her being there are fifty-fifty at best. Given that Tom is the more reliable of the two, she decides that following him will have to take priority. She sends Sasha a text. Tells her that she’s not feeling well, is going back to bed and will ring her later to rearrange.

  A few seconds after she’s pressed send, her phone rings. She looks at the screen and groans. Sasha. Can I ignore her? No, not really, she reasons, not if she wants her help. And she can’t tell her the truth either, not now that she’s lied. Sasha would throw a fit.

  Talk about weaving tangled webs. Too many lies, constantly putting her on edge as she tries to keep one step ahead of whoever it is she’s talking to. All this running around isn’t helping either. Her mind feels like a jungle, thoughts tangled around each other like the undergrowth, obscuring the best way forward.

  She takes a deep breath. Harry. Her priority is to get to him before Lech does and not worry about who she upsets in the process.

  ‘Hi,’ she says, drawing out the word to give herself time to work out her story. ‘Glad you rang. I wasn’t sure if you’d be free to take my call and I didn’t want to interrupt filming or anything, so I—’

  ‘Oh, Nat, I’m so sorry that you’re not feeling well. You poor thing. You haven’t eaten something dodgy, have you?’ Sasha’s voice is full of concern and Natalie feels even worse for lying.

  ‘Well… maybe that’s it.’ Natalie grasps her phone tighter, one arm folded across her chest, hand pinned under her armpit, holding the lie together. ‘I’ve been throwing up all morning. It’s been horrible. I can’t go near food. Just the smell… and I’m so dizzy, I don’t feel safe driving.’

  ‘What a bummer. I can’t believe it.’ Sasha’s sigh rattles down the phone. ‘It’s been a hell of a thing getting time off at all today. Had to make all sorts of promises. And I really wanted you to meet Marco. Just to say hello before he goes back to London.’

  A rush of guilt travels up Natalie’s neck and burns her cheeks. ‘I’m really sorry to stand you up like this, but I’m afraid I’m stuck here. Near the toilet.’

  ‘Okay.’ Sasha sighs again. ‘I do understand. Honestly, I do. It’s just I’ve got such a heavy schedule I’m not sure how much time I’m going to have or when I’m going to be free. They keep changing the order of everything. And this lunchtime is the only bit of freedom I’ve been able to wangle for definite.’ Sasha huffs, clearly frustrated. ‘God knows how the rest of the week’s going to pan out. Never worked with such a bunch of cowboys, you wouldn’t believe… We’re way behind schedule, got night-time shoots and everything. And on top of all that, Marco’s going, and I’m so pissed off, because I’m really going to miss him.’

  The silence is punctuated by the sound of Natalie’s breathing. She holds the phone to her chest while her thoughts flutter around like butterflies, unable to settle in one spot long enough for her to make a decision.

  Sasha or Tom? Sasha or Tom? Sasha or Tom?

  ‘You still there?’ Sasha says, her voice muffled against Natalie’s clothing. ‘Nat? Nat?’

  ‘Yes, yes,’ Natalie’s says. ‘Still here. Just thought I might have to dash off for a moment.’

  ‘Oh, Nat. What a pain. I was dying to meet up again. Could hardly sleep thinking about it. You know, seeing you yesterday, it made me realise how much… well, how much I’ve missed you, sweetie.’

  There’s that magic word again and Natalie is swayed by the emotion in Sasha’s voice. It’s a rare thing and tears prick at N
atalie’s eyes. She shuffles from foot to foot. Should I go?

  ‘Look, I’ve been wanting to…’ Sasha starts, then stops. Natalie thinks she hears a sniff. ‘Wanting to say I’m sorry for not visiting.’ Sasha’s voice cracks. ‘I should have made myself do it. I should have. Christ! Honestly, I hate myself sometimes. I should have come. I know I should. Faced up to my stupid phobia.’ Sasha blows her nose. Natalie blinks and swallows, her throat tight as her own emotions threaten to overflow. ‘I want to make it up to you. Help you get your life back on track after your… your time out. Anything I can do to help, then I’m up for it, but it’s not going to happen unless we can get together and talk it through, is it?’

  ‘I know, I know.’ Natalie’s legs feel weak at the thought of a friend to rely on and the memories of their closeness are tugging at her, making her waver. ‘Couldn’t have happened at a worse time, could it? And I…’ A sudden thought makes her stop. ‘Look, I don’t suppose you’ve been able to speak to the producer, have you, Sash? About Tom’s address?’

  ‘What? Oh, no. Not yet. But I’ve spoken to his PA and she promised to get back to me before one. I told her there was a deadline.’

  Natalie’s mind ticks through her options. There’s no doubt that Sasha means well, but hasn’t she just been going on about how badly organised the film company are? And that means the PA might be fobbing her off.

  Tom’s going home and that’s where Harry will be. If I follow him, I’ll see my son. Today.

  The pull of that thought is too strong and she knows there’s no choice to be made. And if I fail at following Tom, I’ll still have time to meet up with Sasha.

  ‘Tell you what, Sash, I’m going to have a lie down for half an hour. I’ll ring you back in a bit. Maybe I’ll be feeling better by then. And if I am, I’ll get a cab.’

  Natalie’s pretty sure Sasha can’t argue with that and she doesn’t. They say their goodbyes and there’s a lightness in Natalie’s heart that wasn’t there before. For a moment, she felt that connection with Sasha again, the rekindling of their old friendship.

  She’s fastening her bag when a hand grabs her neck and pulls her backwards. A muscular arm wraps around her body, pinning her arms to her sides.

  ‘Gotcha,’ a gravelly voice whispers in her ear.

  Twenty-Five

  Then

  Five weeks after Natalie was arrested, she had a meeting with Mr Higgins, her new solicitor. Tom had filed for divorce. No surprise there, given everything that had gone before, and Mr Higgins was dealing with that aspect of her legal affairs. He was a funny little man, Scottish-Asian, all dapper and tight-lipped. Old-fashioned in his immaculate grey suit and shiny shoes. His accent was gentle; Edinburgh, she guessed.

  She knew there was something wrong the minute he walked into the room and his eyes slid away from hers. His mouth puckered a couple of times before he spoke and Natalie tucked her hands between her thighs, suddenly nervous.

  ‘Well, Natalie, I’ve some… um… unexpected developments to discuss with you.’

  ‘Okay.’ She dragged out the word, because his tone was ominous.

  He opened the file and found a page of notes, then looked up at her. ‘So, it appears that Mr Wilson, your husband, has wound up his business.’

  ‘Oh. Right.’ She studied the table as she processed the information. Was it that much of a surprise? Having stolen the money, he’d want to distance himself from the scene of the crime, wouldn’t he?

  ‘He’s also put the family home up for sale.’

  She sucked in a breath, puzzled. How can he possibly have done that so quickly? ‘Well, at least all our assets will be liquid then,’ she said, all snippy. ‘Should make it easier to share them out properly.’

  Mr Higgins grimaced. ‘Ah, well, that’s where we have a problem. It appears he has moved to the Isle of Man.’

  Natalie frowned. Okay, so things are happening at twice the speed of light, but as problems go, it’s not that bad, is it? ‘His parents live there. It’s not like it’s a million miles away. He’ll still be able to see his son.’

  Mr Higgins sighed. ‘I’m afraid that, legally, it creates a big problem for us, Natalie.’ Mr Higgins caught her eye and looked down at his notes. Her stomach clenched as she waited for the inevitable punchline. ‘It’s a different jurisdiction, you see. They have their own legal system, and we have no rights to access finances… or children, for that matter.

  Her eyes flicked around the room as her mind repeated what Mr Higgins had just said.

  No right of access to Harry? Oh no! No, no, no. Her eyes widened, hands covering her mouth.

  Mr Higgins looked sympathetic. ‘I’m afraid there’s more.’ He sighed. ‘Apparently, the house was in his name.’ Natalie nodded, dreading what was coming next. ‘And the business was in his name.’ She closed her eyes as she realised what he was going to tell her.

  It’s all gone. Everything.

  ‘As soon as the house sale completes, your husband will have no assets in this country. So I’m afraid we’re limited as to what we can achieve in terms of a financial settlement. And he’s arguing that the majority of the assets were already his before he even met you.’ Mr Higgins took a neatly folded handkerchief out of his pocket and mopped his brow. ‘He’s also saying that your criminal activities forced him to close his business and relocate. At great expense, apparently. According to him, he will need all the residual funds from the house sale to set up a new business venture so he can earn a living. He claims he won’t even be able to afford to buy a property and he’s had to move back in with his parents.’

  Natalie spluttered and jumped up, fingernails digging into her palms as her hands balled into fists. She paced up and down, felt the urge to hit something.

  ‘So, the last bit of news is—’ Mr Higgins winced ‘—he’s refusing to pay our requested financial settlement. I think we’ll be able to get a few thousand out of him, but realistically, I don’t think we can expect more than that.’

  Natalie put her head back and howled. A noise that came up from the tips of her toes, pulling all the threads of her misery together and bundling them into a great ball of sound. How could he be so heartless? How could he?

  Mr Higgins leant back in his chair, perspiration on his brow. ‘Why don’t you sit down while we discuss everything.’ His eyes slid towards the door.

  ‘Discuss?’ Natalie walked back to the table and leant towards Mr Higgins. ‘Discuss what? Sounds like a done deal to me.’

  She didn’t believe a word about Tom’s situation, suspected that he had money squirrelled away all over the place in offshore accounts. But that was the problem, wasn’t it? Offshore accounts were secret and nobody but him knew where the money was hidden.

  Her fists slammed onto the table, again and again, battering out a thunderous rhythm, imagining it was her husband’s face she was hitting. Eventually, a prison officer came. Mr Higgins moved out of the corner he’d retreated to and walked away, while Natalie was led back to her cell. She burrowed under her covers, blotting out the light, desperate to be anywhere but here, for reality to be different.

  Tom had taken Harry away from her, to another country, with no intention of letting her see him ever again. And the law was on his side. She howled until her throat was raw and when the sound of her heartache finally faded, she sobbed herself to sleep.

  That evening, at association time, Katya was sitting on Natalie’s bed, animated, talking about what she was going to do when she was released. But Natalie wasn’t listening. Her solicitor’s words were wrapped around her thoughts, like a clenched fist, refusing to let go. Her head ached, her throat was sore and her body felt leaden, exhausted with the hopelessness of her situation. Even her chest ached, as if her heart had been ripped out. A tear trickled down her face, no energy to wipe it away. She looked at Katya, who stopped mid-sentence and frowned.

  ‘What is it?’ Katya put a hand on Natalie’s shoulder, concern in her eyes. ‘What’s happened?’

  �
�He’s taken Harry.’ Natalie’s voice was a hoarse whisper. ‘Made it impossible for me to be with him when I get out.’ A sob caught in her throat. ‘And he won’t give me any money. I won’t be able to afford to rent anywhere to live. I won’t be able to get a job. I don’t know what I’m going to do. How I’m ever going to get him back.’

  There was nobody she could turn to. Definitely not her family. And her close friendships had withered over the years, like neglected houseplants. She only had Sasha. A supposed best friend who wouldn’t even visit her.

  Katya put an arm round Natalie’s shoulders and pulled her close. ‘Hey, hey. You let it all out, hun.’ She rubbed Natalie’s back as she cried onto Katya’s shoulder. ‘Tell me all about it. Let’s see what I can do to help.’

  Once the story of that morning’s meeting was out and Natalie’s sobs had subsided to sniffles, Katya sat back against the wall, her eyes staring into the distance as she thought, fingers tapping on her bent knees. She stopped, held up a finger. ‘First thing you have to do is find somewhere to live. Somewhere nice, so there’s no argument about Harry coming to live with you. That’s step one. Then you can try to get him back. You can’t get him back if you have nowhere to live, can you?’

  Natalie thought about it and nodded.

  ‘So. You can come and stay with me.’ Katya beamed at her. ‘I’ll be out in a few months. I have a big house. Honestly, loads of room.’

  ‘Oh no,’ Natalie said, eyes wide. ‘No, I couldn’t do that.’

  ‘Sure, you can. I want you to come.’ There was something in her tone, a firmness that made Natalie pause and consider the offer properly.

  Would it be such a bad idea? A few weeks, just until she got herself on her feet again. Better than the alternative, which was what? Some scabby apartment or halfway house. She cringed at her mental image of desperate people, all crammed together, like unwanted animals, hoping that someone might come and rescue them one day.