The Exes' Revenge

by Jo Jakeman

  He drained his coffee, licked his finger, and picked up stray crumbs from his muffin.

  “If anyone asks, you didn’t hear it from me,” he said.

  “Of course.”

  “Good. That’s what that journalist said as well.” He grinned.

  I smiled. “Chris, what have you done?”

  My legs were tingling. I placed my hands on my thighs to see if the reverberation was real. It took me a moment to realize that it was excitement. Thrill. The walls were coming down.

  “Oh, I don’t know. I might have given her copies of the reports and promised her a full transcript of tomorrow’s hearing. She’s already interviewed the three victims—she reported on the attacks originally—and she’s very keen to do a follow-up.”

  This was going to be a big story. These women were willing to be named and photographed, to talk of their ordeals. They were braver women than me. They weren’t victims.

  Phillip would be identified, probably pictured, and held accountable. He would have nowhere to hide. His golf buddies and casual acquaintances who had all talked so highly of him in the past would find out what he was really like. He would be exposed. I should have been pleased. There would be nothing more ruinous for him than the loss of his job and status. But it didn’t make me or my son any safer.

  I still had to present myself to the police station and make a statement. And I would have to explain why he was locked in my cellar in the first place.

  “And you think they might take me seriously if I was to go to the police?” I asked with trepidation.

  “I reckon,” he said. “They’d be bloody stupid not to.”

  CHAPTER 33

  8 days before the funeral

  “Let me go,” Phillip said.

  It was an order from someone who was in no position to make demands and, as such, it fell flat.

  Ruby and Naomi decided that I should be the one to talk to Phillip. Ruby was so hurt by his betrayal that she couldn’t stand to look at him. She was sorry she’d ever trusted him. Her insistence on seeing the best in him had nearly got us killed.

  Naomi didn’t want to see Phillip because she thought she might just throttle him. Whenever we spoke of him, which was often, she would fly into a rage. I left the cellar door open so that Naomi and Ruby could choose to listen to the conversation between Phillip and me if they wanted, though I wouldn’t be saying anything that we hadn’t already agreed.

  Since my conversation with Chris, I’d pieced together every bit of information I could about Phillip’s behavior. Ruby and Naomi were eager to give names and dates that could incriminate Phillip. We’d drawn a timeline and plotted his cycles of abuse, instances of betrayal. It might not be what the court wanted to hear, but it made us feel better.

  He and Ruby used to have interesting pillow talks, and she knew of cases he had “helped” in order to make sure the right person went down for the crime. He’d been proud of his initiative. And now Ruby was proud of her memory. I felt sure that these stories would match with some of the complaints against Phillip. Ruby said she didn’t care if she got in trouble for not sharing this information sooner. She said there was a bigger picture to focus on. With so much time passed and so little evidence, it was unlikely that these recollections on their own could bring Phillip down, but taken with everything else it all made for a compelling case.

  “We already tried letting you go,” I said to him as I took a seat opposite him. “You didn’t seem very grateful. Imagine if you’d just left us alone rather than come back for revenge? You wouldn’t be sitting here with me and you wouldn’t have a couple of exes sitting upstairs waiting for an excuse to smother you with a pillow. You had a choice. Forgiveness or revenge. You chose the wrong path and now here we are at the same crossroads. Forgiveness or revenge. What shall I choose? I wonder.”

  “If you don’t let me go right now, I will make you suffer!” he shouted. The last word of his sentence seemed to ring around the corners and in my ears. Suffer, suffer, suffer.

  He pulled at his cuffs, but the radiator stayed firm.

  “So,” I said, ignoring his outburst, “I know that you’re being investigated for gross misconduct.”

  He blinked his eyes slowly. He was trying to keep his features neutral, but I could see through him. He was ruffled.

  “You should’ve said something,” I said.

  He folded his arms across his chest and clenched his jaw.

  “Things might have turned out differently if you’d just been honest with us. It was you lying about being in work that led me to tell Naomi, which led to her confronting you, which led to you assaulting and lying to her. What a mess you’ve made.”

  He crossed and uncrossed his legs. He was uncomfortable, wondering how much I knew and what I was going to do about it.

  “The hearing’s tomorrow, isn’t it? It would be a shame if you couldn’t attend. ‘Mitigating circumstances,’ is it? Isn’t that what you told them? That there were mitigating circumstances?” I could feel my anger rising.

  He didn’t respond, but there was a slight shift in body language. His shoulders were tense and the muscles in his neck were twitching.

  “Seriously, Phillip? You’re using the death of our child as mitigating circumstances? How dare you use her as an excuse to get you out of trouble? You were a bastard long before the accident.” I stood up and paced the small room.

  “You’re going to lose your job. No notice and no pay. I’m beginning to understand why you wanted me out of the house. You’re worried about money, aren’t you? The repayments on The Barn are costing you a fortune. So what was it? You were going to leave Naomi to pay the mortgage on her own and move in here instead? And here was me thinking that you had another woman. I should have known that no one else would be stupid enough to have you.”

  “I’m waiting,” he said.

  “For what?” I answered.

  “The demands, the clauses in the divorce, or whatever. You want the house? Fine. You’ve got the house. Bring me a pen and I’ll sign your papers. I’ll make a deal with you. I want to get out of here and you want me gone, yeah? Let’s call it quits. I’ll go away and leave you be. Just unlock the bloody cuffs and we’ll say no more about it. But leave it much longer and the deal’s off.”

  “You’ll have to try harder than that,” I said. “The house is already mine, or at least it soon will be.”

  “What have you done?”

  “That friend of Rachel’s—you know, the Mickey Mouse solicitor—well, she helped with the paperwork. Naomi really is very good at your signature, isn’t she? The mortgage company is drawing up the deeds in my name. Your signature will still be required, but I’m sure Naomi will help with that. It’s not uncommon with divorces for couples to sign over property rather than sell it or go through the courts.

  “Talking of houses, she’s been looking at the paperwork for The Barn. It dawned on her that it’s only in her name, isn’t it? A little plan you cooked up together so that I couldn’t get my hands on any of it when we divorced. We think that’s why you panicked when Naomi said she was leaving you. Are we right? Is that when you came up with the idea of saying you had cancer? To court sympathy and buy time to sort out the paperwork? Stop me if any of this is wrong. It’s clever, Phillip, but not clever enough.”

  I could tell that this had hit home. He unfolded his arms and sat up. He was worried now. I could see that he was wondering what else we could possibly want from him.

  “Let me go and I’ll make it worth your while.”

  “You don’t have anything I want,” I said. “Oh, yes, and you’ve paid for the repairs to Ruby’s car. The least you can do after putting a brick through her window. And did you honestly criticize me for using our son’s birthday as my PIN number for my phone when you use your own birth date for your cash card? Lax, Phillip, lax. But totally within character for a nar
cissist.”

  Phillip was clenching and unclenching his fists, and I could hear his breathing coming quicker. He was starting to fidget, to squirm.

  I’d said everything I wanted to say to him. I was enjoying the feeling of power and reveling in the prospect of Phillip getting what he deserved. I turned my back on him and began walking up the stairs. My legs were tired, my body aching, my head bowed against the effort of propelling myself up the steps, but I felt satisfied.

  I could see Naomi’s shadow at the top of the stairs. She and Ruby had been listening to every word. She smiled at me as I neared the top. There was a look of happy determination on her face. The air at the top of the cellar steps was warmer, thicker. Naomi and Ruby were standing in the hallway, arms linked. We were finally in control of the situation.

  “I can tell you everything,” Phillip shouted from beneath me.

  I shook my head. He was getting desperate and I didn’t want to hear anything more from him.

  “I’ve told you,” I called back, “you’re in no position to make a deal.”

  Before I could close the door, Phillip said, “Really? Don’t you want to know who killed your baby?”

  CHAPTER 34

  8 days before the funeral

  “What makes you think I care anymore?” I called, though the voice didn’t sound like my own.

  “Oh, I know everything.”

  I hesitated at the top of the cellar steps. I wanted to confront him, to shake him, and tell him that he couldn’t say things like that. Scream that he couldn’t use what hurt me most to manipulate situations to suit him. I knew I had to walk away before he got into my mind. I was starting to make peace with what had happened, but there was still that part of me that wanted to know for certain. I couldn’t look at Ruby. I feared what I might see on her face.

  Naomi put her hand on my arm and shook her head. Her eyes were saying, Don’t rise to it. But I couldn’t pretend that he hadn’t said anything.

  He had my attention.

  I stiffly descended the steps. He arched one eyebrow at me. He knew he had me now.

  Hook.

  Line.

  Sinker.

  I studied his face for an essence of truth, but I wasn’t sure I’d recognize it in him anymore. Had he always known? Was it Ruby? Or was it someone else entirely? A stranger perhaps? I could bear if it was an accident. Could he have found out only recently? Or, more likely, could he be lying to save his own skin?

  “You almost had me there,” I said. “But then I remembered that you’re a liar. Whatever you tell me now, I won’t believe.”

  “Oh, you’d know. I think you’ve always known. Let me go, and get the confirmation you’ve always wanted.”

  I glanced up the stairs to where Ruby and Naomi stood. Ruby was biting the side of her thumb and Naomi had her arms folded.

  Before I’d begun to suspect Ruby, I thought the person responsible would eventually bow under the weight of their guilt and have to tell someone. Had they wondered what had happened to the woman they’d hit? Did they regret fleeing the scene? I’d told Phillip that I wanted to look the driver in the eye and ask why. Were they drunk? Had they lost control of the car? Had a cat run out into the road? I needed to know.

  And here was Phillip telling me he had all the answers. When he was about to lose everything, he pulled an ace out of his sleeve.

  “You must be desperate,” I said.

  I folded my arms with hands tightly under armpits and leaned on the wall, fooling no one with my feigned nonchalance.

  He laughed. “Perhaps I am in a position to make deals after all.”

  “This is low, even for you. If I let you go, you’ll tell me a story that I’ll have no way of verifying. All that will have changed is that you’ll be free to go to your hearing and try to clear your name while I sit around wondering if you’re going to try and take revenge on us again.”

  And, I thought, I’ll never be able to look Ruby in the eye again.

  “No,” I said. “No. I won’t let you do this to me. I won’t let you use the death of our daughter as a bargaining chip. I would rather go to my grave not knowing what really happened that night than give you the upper hand.”

  As soon as I said it, I knew that I was right. Even if he was telling the truth, it wouldn’t change a thing. It wouldn’t bring Iris back.

  He looked past me to the stairs.

  “Ruby?” he shouted. “Naomi? I know you’re listening up there. You may as well come down.”

  There was a short delay while they decided whether to respond to Phillip’s call, and then they joined us in the cellar. I moved away from the foot of the stairs to let them into the small room.

  “You’re summat special, you are,” Naomi said. “You can’t go lying about somethin’ like that. You’re sick.”

  “I’m not lying to her. And I’m not lying when I say this either. I need to get out of here. You know that I’ve got a hearing I need to be at tomorrow. I have kept things from all of you over the years . . .”

  Ruby scoffed and looked away, refusing to meet his gaze. She looked heavy with discomfort.

  “It’s up to you, ladies. Whichever of you lets me go will get the answer to a question that’s been bugging you for years.”

  “It’s quite a coincidence,” I said, “that you just happen to have a nugget for each of us, isn’t it?”

  He looked at Ruby. It was a soft look, one of sad resignation. Perhaps he did care about her after all.

  “Ruby,” he said.

  She didn’t look at him.

  “Ruby? That night, after the party. I know you’ve always wanted to know what happened to the dog. If you let me go, I will tell you exactly what happened to Rufus.”

  She looked up, despite herself. Shook her head quickly and gave him a tight-lipped smile.

  “Oh, Pip. You think I’ve been sulking over that for the last twenty years? I know you were responsible. Whether you simply opened the door or buried him in the garden, it makes no difference to me. I forgave you a long time ago. I accepted that you were sick. My only mistake was to think that you’d changed.”

  Phillip frowned. “Then what do you want from me?”

  “Nothing. I used to feel responsible for you. You relied on me so heavily after your mum died, and I felt guilty for leaving you when I did. You used to tell me how Imogen used emotional blackmail to make you stay with her, that she tricked you into having a child. Otherwise you’d have left years ago. I’ve lost track of the times you’ve told me you wished we’d never split up. I’ve waited in the wings for years for my chance to make it up to you, but now I see how stupid I’ve been. Good-bye, Phillip.”

  She spun around and began to climb the stairs.

  “Ruby, wait!” Phillip shouted.

  I steadied myself against the cool wall and watched her back disappear up the stairs.

  “Don’t have the charm you thought you did, eh?” said Naomi. “You got something for me, then? This should be good. Hold on. Wait for me to get comfy—I love a good fairy tale.” She slid down the wall until she was sitting on the floor. “Right. I’m ready. Go on. Once upon a time . . .”

  Phillip narrowed his eyes. For a moment, I thought he was reconsidering offering her a deal. “You’ve always wanted to know where your mum was, yeah?”

  The smile fell from Naomi’s face. Her expression was thunderous. She looked at him like she might fly at him at any moment.

  “What of it?” she spat.

  “I know where she is.”

  “Bollocks.”

  “Her name is Helen.”

  “You could have got that off my birth certificate. That don’t mean anything.”

  “Born 8 June 1979,” he continued. “Married twice. The last records show her as Helen Beresford.”

  Naomi scrambled back to her feet and lo
oked at me and Ruby. I reached out and put my arm around her.

  “Ignore him. We’ve got a name now,” I said to her. “We’ll find her on our own.”

  “Wouldn’t be so sure of that,” said Phillip. “She’s been in a bit of trouble with the police. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. She’s got several aliases.”

  “Well, that’s handy for you, isn’t it?” I said. “If that’s true, how did you manage to track her down?”

  “I didn’t,” he said. “She tracked me. Well, Naomi, actually. She wrote to Naomi, and I opened the letter. Surely that’s not too hard to believe? So how about it, ladies? It’s a onetime offer. Whoever gets me out of here by nine o’clock tomorrow morning will get the news they’ve always wanted. It’s up to you to decide whose need is greatest. Yours, Imogen, for wanting to look the person in the eye who killed your baby? Or yours, Naomi. So you can look into the eyes of the woman who gave you up. But remember, the clock’s ticking.”

  CHAPTER 35

  1 year, 3 months, and 5 days before the funeral

  Phil folded the letter back into the envelope and tapped it against his knuckles. It was a shame, but there was only one thing for it. Couldn’t be helped.

  He spun it into the fire, where it curled at the edges and flared brightly before shrinking and crumbling away as if it had never been there at all. And as far as Naomi was concerned, it hadn’t.

  The flames jumped, squatted, and danced about the hearth. It wasn’t cold enough for a fire, but the glow was for soothing his mind, not his body. Sparks were like waves. You could watch them, no matter what the weather, and feel your worries shrink into insignificance. Fire and water didn’t care for your strengths or your weaknesses. They were the reminder that some things were bigger than you were.

  Phil had always loved to watch things burn. Letters. Pictures.

  Evidence.

  The cleansing effect of the flames and the eradication of things that shouldn’t be. As a kid he’d sit by and watch buildings and warehouses color the skies orange and spit sparks like fireflies among the stars. And then the firemen would come and do their best to master the beast. He wasn’t a vandal. It wasn’t arson when it was art.