I Will Make You Pay (ARC)

by Teresa Driscoll

  watch and wait. You know how I like to play it.’

  ‘Let me watch too. I want to see him. Please, Mel. I

  want to figure out if this is our guy.’

  ‘Um. I think that might be my job.’

  ‘Yeah – sorry. But it kind of feels like mine too.’

  There’s a long sigh at the other end of the line. ‘Look.

  I can’t make any promises, Matt. Come up if you want

  and I’ll see what I can do. But it’ll all be unofficial. We

  may have to tell some porkies.’

  ‘You’re a star.’

  Just as he hangs up, Matthew hears the front door. He

  checks his watch and winks at Amelie.

  ‘Right, my sweet pea. Mummy is home and Daddy

  has to go to work. I’m going on an aeroplane and I’m

  going to bring you back some haggis.’

  ‘What’s haggis?’

  ‘It’s like sausage only better. Absolutely delicious, I

  promise you.’

  ‘As nice as pancakes?’

  ‘Definitely.’

  * * *

  In the hire car from Glasgow Airport later, Matthew

  feels a pang of guilt at the little white lies he’s had to tell 225

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  Sally lately. He’s still pretending his iPad is broken, and is planning to call again on Ian as soon as he gets back. Ian’s

  now agreed to the monthly cost of an Internet package

  and is taking his iPad lessons very seriously. He should

  be up and running soon. Now Matthew has somehow

  implied to Sally that Tom is funding this Scottish trip.

  It’s true that Tom is meeting his day rate again since

  Alice re-engaged him. But there’s no sign-off yet for

  this special trip.

  Matthew is well aware that he’s more copper than

  businessman, and is wondering if he dares add these costs

  to the Alice invoice without prior agreement. In fairness,

  silver-spoon Tom has said whatever it takes, I’ll pay, but Matthew can hardly make a legitimate case for this trip.

  The ball is in Mel’s court now. It will take time for the

  techies to check Alex’s phone and go over all the CCTV

  for his movements over the past few weeks. Matthew

  thinks it is highly unlikely Alex will admit to anything.

  He’s already playing the victim and won’t make it easy

  for them. In truth, it would make sense to just wait and

  see what happens. But Matthew is impatient; he badly

  wants to see Alex’s face as he’s questioned. He wants to

  get a feel for where this is going. In the past, he has had

  a good eye for spotting ‘tells’. He trusts his instinct and

  needs to see this guy in the flesh. The bottom line is

  he would love for this whole sorry case to be over. For

  Alice’s sake.

  As he pulls into a parking space within sight of the

  police station, he feels the familiar surge of adrenaline

  that comes when a key suspect is in custody. Mel will be

  feeling the pressure too.

  Inside, he puts in a request for Mel at the front desk

  and she appears within minutes. The sergeant on reception

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  seems bemused. He queries Matthew’s status but Mel

  suddenly starts fidgeting with her phone, pretending

  to check messages and then making a quick call, saying

  simply, ‘He’s here; five minutes maximum.’ There are

  two other members of the public waiting to be seen by

  the front desk. Mel raises her eyebrows and stares at her

  watch. She signs for a visitor badge, giving only cursory

  explanations that Matthew is ‘ex-job’; is deeply involved

  with the case ‘down south’ and is needed urgently for

  the interviews. For a moment Matthew thinks the bluff

  isn’t going to wash, but then the desk sergeant glances

  between Mel’s enormous bump and the people waiting

  in line.

  Matthew gets his visitor’s badge.

  The station is small and he’s led quickly through to

  a small room adjacent to the interview suite. It’s nearly

  four o’clock in the afternoon and Alex has apparently been

  making a scene, complaining that he’s feeling unwell. That

  he is being harassed. That Brexit or no Brexit, I’m going to the European Court of Human Rights over this. A duty solicitor has turned up and has already taken instructions. Mel

  explains that Alex’s position is that it is none of anyone’s

  business who he marries. The girl’s an adult now.

  ‘So there he is,’ Mel says, signalling with her head to

  the impossibly good-looking man seated on the other

  side of the one-way glass.

  Matthew takes in a long, slow breath and stares at Alex.

  Suddenly he’s thinking again of that terrible moment

  when the bike swung past them. The squirt of liquid into

  Alice’s face. Those dreadful minutes when he thought it

  truly was acid and Alice’s life would be changed forever.

  It would take someone with extraordinary nerve to

  do that. Chilling arrogance.

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  He takes in Alex Sunningham’s stance. He is leaning

  back in his chair with his legs stretched out in front of

  him. Arms folded. Narrowed eyes.

  ‘I’m going to sue you,’ Alex says very coolly.

  OK. So – definitely arrogant enough, Matthew thinks.

  But are you our man? He stares through the glass . Was all of that really you?

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  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  Him – before

  Just two weeks and he’ll be in double figures. Ten …

  years … old.

  He has waited a long time for double figures. He thinks

  of his maths lessons in school. His new teacher has an

  abacus which she keeps on the shelf. A black frame with

  shiny red beads. He loves that abacus. In fact, he likes

  maths a lot now and works even harder in school. Top

  group. Top dog. He feels sure that things will change;

  that things will be different once he is no longer a single

  digit. Double digits on that abacus.

  He longs to be taller and stronger too. He thinks of

  all the things he will be able to do when he is taller and

  older and can go to the gym and build up his muscles.

  ‘What you thinking about?’ his gran says. She is knit-

  ting him a new sweater for school. He does not want it.

  It’s the wrong colour; the blue is too dark. The wool will

  itch and they will tease him. Maybe your gran could knit you some pants too. Woolly pants … Woolly pants.

  ‘Penny for your thoughts?’ She’s still staring at him.

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Ah – yes. You children spend a lot of time thinking

  about that.’ She is smiling but also glancing at the clock.

  Wednesday.

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  When he’s in double digits, everything will be differ-

  ent. When he’s in double digits, he will not answer the

  door to Brian. He will put a chair against the door and

  pretend he cannot hear him knocking.

  He will be going to big school soon and he’ll start a

  gang. He’ll tell them about Brian. Not the truth – not

  the dirty, stinking truth. But he will say that Brian has

&nb
sp; hurt his gran and needs to be taught a lesson. And they

  will all teach him a lesson together. They will make him

  beg … and beg… and beg.

  He looks across the room at his gran, who is still smil-

  ing at him. He thinks of how tired she always looks. How

  hard she always works. He thinks of her baking cakes for

  him every Sunday – butterfly cakes with jam and icing –

  and making him boiled eggs with soldiers before school.

  And he thinks of her looking out of the window every

  day to say good morning to Grandad’s bench.

  ‘When I’m big, I’m going to look after you,’ he says.

  ‘So that you don’t have to go to work at all.’

  ‘Of course you will. And that will be lovely, my sweet

  boy.’ She folds up her knitting and puts it into the bag

  next to her, glancing again at the clock.

  She only works one night shift every two weeks now.

  She has done some deal with Stan at work. He doesn’t

  know how.

  So just once a fortnight there is the tap at the door.

  Brian with biscuits and banter. His big fat belly. And his

  little bargain.

  One week he thought of just refusing to answer the

  door, but Brian has said it has been going on so long now

  that it is too late for second thoughts. No one will believe

  him and they will put his gran in jail for leaving him.

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  He closes his eyes and thinks again of maths class in

  school. He has learned that working hard gets the teachers

  off your back. He was suspended after hurting the boy that

  time the head teacher got cross. His gran cried and the

  suspension wasn’t for very long. She said that education

  was his only chance to make something of himself. And

  so he decided deep inside never to make her cry again.

  Now he has the class merit badge. He is in top groups

  for everything. And he has just been given a special school

  award to take music lessons free of charge. He can pick

  any instrument he likes.

  He can’t decide. Guitar or piano? He must choose soon.

  He pictures himself playing music and he imagines

  people looking at him and saying, What a clever boy. He thinks it will be a good trick. People will listen to his

  music and will have no idea what is really going on inside

  his head.

  They will never guess the truth. That he is thinking

  still of hammers and eagles and how long it will be before

  he grows, with his age in double digits – and is big enough

  and strong enough to start a gang and pay Brian back.

  To make him beg.

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  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  Alice

  I’m in a café when the email comes in from work. I’ve

  used up the ‘breathing space’ of my spare holiday now, and

  they agree with me that we need to make some decisions

  about ‘going forward’. There’s politically correct rubbish

  from Helen in HR about my safety being the priority,

  blah blah blah. There’s an additional note from the editor saying he’s again turned down police requests to tap the

  phone lines for evidence. I do understand. No paper could

  function if we agreed to that. But at least they see that a

  meeting’s essential. Good.

  It’s still Thursday. Mum’s settling into her new home

  and I need some routine back. I stir the foaming milk

  into the rest of the coffee and think. Yes – I so badly need

  to get back to work. I’ve written a blog for the charity but they haven’t published it yet. They’re worried about the

  timing with Alex’s arrest, and want to wait to see the

  outcome. To be honest, Claire’s emails have been a bit

  odd the past couple of days. She keeps going on about

  me trying her new alarm and writing about that instead.

  For some reason this is troubling me. I thought she said

  the alarm project was in its early stages.

  No matter. I brush thoughts of Claire and the charity

  away and reply instead to Helen’s email, agreeing to the

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  meeting and stressing that I ideally want to return next

  week. It’s been long enough. I’m not going to get heavy

  with them just yet, but I will if I need to. I shouldn’t be

  the one paying the price for this creep’s behaviour.

  I put my phone back in my pocket and then, as I look

  up, there is the most extraordinary surprise. He’s wearing

  a very smart woollen coat with a bright, striped scarf I

  have not seen before, so that for a few moments I am not

  one hundred per cent sure it’s him. But then he turns and

  I’m shocked at the little punch inside. He looks so striking

  and I feel the familiar guilt because I don’t feel this way

  when I catch sight unexpectedly of Tom.

  ‘ Jack. What on earth are you doing here?’

  He looks utterly shaken too. ‘Alice! Goodness.’ His

  expression segues from puzzlement into pleasure, as if he

  can’t quite process this either. But I’m pleased he seems

  glad to see me. ‘I’m after a sandwich before an interview.’

  He fidgets with his scarf as if suddenly self-conscious.

  ‘Local primary school. Teacher awards. What about you?

  Bit out of your way here, isn’t it?’

  ‘Loose end. Just been driving around. Well, sit down

  and tell me what’s happening. By coincidence, I’ve just had

  an email from the office. I’m hoping to be back next week.’

  ‘That would be fabulous. We’re all missing you.

  Everyone thinks it’s unfair they’re making you take holi-

  day. So, how are things? Have you not got your security

  guard guy with you?’ He glances about, as if checking

  for Matthew.

  ‘He’s not a bodyguard. And no. Not today. Only

  Wednesdays. The key suspect has just been arrested,

  though I need you to keep that under your hat.’

  ‘But that’s great news.’ He leans in to read my face.

  ‘Isn’t it?’

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  ‘Yeah – I guess.’

  I am rewinding now to remember when I last saw Jack.

  Ah yes – at Leanne’s, when he warned me that the editor

  was reallocating my campaign stories. The demolition of

  Maple Field House. I feel a smile as I remember that Jack

  has been looking out for me. I’m grateful.

  ‘Sorry, sorry,’ I say. ‘I suppose I should be more re-

  lieved but I guess I won’t relax fully until they find some

  proper evidence. It’s a bit of a waiting game.’

  ‘So who is it? The guy in custody. Someone you did

  a story on?’

  ‘No. Not supposed to say. An ex, actually.’

  ‘Dear Lord, I had no idea.’

  And then the waitress appears and Jack orders a double

  espresso and a toasted sandwich. I wave my hand to signal

  I’m fine with just my drink.

  ‘By the way – I’m really grateful for you tipping me off

  about the campaign story. The demolition of the flats… I

  met the organiser up in London so I’m right up to speed.

  I’m not letting Ted pass the coverage to
anyone else. No

  way. Not after all I’ve put into that.’

  ‘Oh – you’re welcome. Anyway, if you’re back next

  week, it’ll be fine. So it’s really all over? What a relief.’

  He’s looking into my face as the waitress returns with his

  coffee, advising him the sandwich will be just a couple

  of minutes. I notice that he doesn’t thank the waitress,

  doesn’t even turn to look at her, and so I do the niceties

  for him, nodding at her and smiling until she’s gone.

  ‘It’s just I’ve been really worried about you, Alice. We

  all have. I haven’t wanted to intrude by email or text. I

  mean, I know you have Tom looking out for you.’ For

  some reason he flushes – a red patch appearing above the

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  scarf on his neck. I wonder if he is thinking as I am of

  that awful Italian meal. My faux pas.

  ‘I’m fine, Jack. Well – no, that’s not true. But Tom’s

  been great and I’m managing, and I should know very soon

  if this nightmare is finally over.’ I pause then, wondering

  if I should confide in him more. He seems to sense this,

  raising his eyebrow by way of question.

  ‘We’ve just moved my mother to a new nursing home.

  Better facilities.’ I don’t know why I don’t tell him the

  truth. He doesn’t say anything so I assume he hasn’t heard

  about the video. Some family friends saw it but why would

  anyone in the office be looking? ‘I’m going up there later

  to make sure she’s settled in. I’ll feel happier then.’

  ‘Good. That’s good.’

  The waitress is very soon back with the food, and I

  look at the melted cheese oozing from the golden bread.

  It makes me feel hungry and I’m just wondering whether

  to order one myself after all when my phone rings. I raise

  my hand by way of apology as I take the call. It’s the

  editor’s secretary, Samantha. She babbles an apology but

  says she’s been updated about the meeting by HR and

  needs to change the time we just agreed. Suggests 3 p.m.

  instead of noon because Ted has a meeting over lunch.

  ‘That’s fine. No problem.’ I add that by coincidence

  I am with Jack and he’s packing away a cheese toastie.

  Samantha laughs and then adds something which

  makes no sense at all.

  ‘It’s good to know what Jack gets up to on his day off.’

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  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  Alice – before

  The first time my mother saw me with my new hair co-