Extinction

by Carol Anne Davis

  He looked good for his age, thanks to doing lots of walking, often whilst carrying a heavy toolbox. If a call-out wasn’t an emergency, he thought nothing of parking in a free zone and strolling the half-hour journey to his client’s office or house and back.

  Several of his previous girlfriends had commented that he had the muscle tone of a much younger man – and the staying power. He could easily hold back until his lover was satisfied. Beth hadn’t come from intercourse yet but he was sure that it would just take time. She simply had to relax more to fully appreciate the pleasure available from thrusting, had to put aside her previous misconceptions and let go.

  He’d been unlucky in the past with his choice of women but was sure that she was a keeper, was The One.

  SIXTEEN

  She’d been seeing Adam for weeks now and they’d become superficially close but he still hadn’t given up any information about Helen, despite her own increasing hints that she’d been failed by Zak, that the marriage had had its difficulties. Belatedly, the police psychologist had decided that her supposed pregnancy was getting in the way, so they’d decided to tell Neave that she’d unexpectedly given birth. They’d brought the date forward by six weeks, and now she had to phone and tell him, using the dedicated police line. A machine was recording their every word.

  ‘Adam? It’s Olivia. I’ve become a mum!’

  ‘Well done you! How do you feel?’

  ‘Quite good, actually. She’s tiny, having arrived so early, so it was a comparatively easy birth.’

  She giggled in what she hoped was a provocative way, wanting him to think of her as tight and ready.

  ‘Have you got a name yet?’

  ‘Mia.’

  ‘Mia Marsden. Sounds just right. So, are you still in hospital or . . .?’

  ‘No, it was a home birth.’

  ‘That’s unusual for a first child.’ She could hear the surprise in his voice.

  ‘I know. I was booked in, but she arrived so suddenly that I didn’t have time to call an ambulance. My neighbour took me there after Mia arrived but I discharged myself the next day. I can’t stand being around strangers. You know how much better I am at one to one.’

  ‘You are indeed.’

  She could hear the warmth in his voice. Was it really faked? She reminded herself that her colleagues would hear this call, to keep it measured.

  ‘Well, I won’t keep you, just wanted to let you know. See you at the same time later this week.’

  ‘You’ve got a babysitter already?’

  ‘No, she’s still in the hospital, but the nurses have said that I mustn’t stay there round the clock, that I need a break.’

  The police psychologist had thought that this might make her sound selfish, more like her target. They were desperate for her to reel him in.

  ‘See you on Friday, then.’

  ‘I’ll look forward to it,’ Olivia said lightly. She put down the phone and realized that it was true.

  Her brief now was to get Adam to ask her out, or at least spend more time with her. The police thought that he might let his guard down if he thought that he’d found his soul mate, would tell her a few home truths about his marriage, about being failed by his late wife. At the same time, she mustn’t flaunt herself as that would be setting up a honeytrap and would be unethical. Cases had been thrown out of court for less.

  After making the call, she went round to her sister’s house, keen to discuss Adam with someone. She wasn’t supposed to talk about her undercover work but had sworn Cathy to secrecy.

  ‘He thinks I’ve had the baby,’ she said, settling down in her usual chair and accepting a glass of white wine.

  ‘So, is he more likely to pounce?’

  ‘According to the police psychologist he is. There again, he also thought that the guy would have become suggestive by now and he hasn’t. In fact, he’s been really supportive and nice.’

  ‘It’s his job, Olivia.’

  ‘I know that.’ She felt a moment of irritation; Adam had been exceptionally solicitous and helpful and seemed to share her sorrow at prematurely losing a spouse.

  ‘So, when do you see him again?’

  ‘Next week.’

  ‘And you’ve got back-up if he tries anything?’

  ‘I’ve got half the police force watching from across the road. Plus my body, as you know, is a lethal weapon.’

  ‘Just don’t take any chances,’ Cathy murmured, setting down her glass.

  She’d always been the staid sister, Olivia thought, the one who waited until she was a mature woman before she married, the one who settled for a safe job in an office. She’d never have coped with the excitement and uncertainty of undercover work.

  The days passed slowly until her appointment, days of paperwork and nights of TV dinners. Olivia pasted on her widest smile as she rang Adam’s bell, heard the psychologist approach the door. She hadn’t brought her supposed baby with her today and wouldn’t on subsequent visits. The police psychologist, the same one who had recommended a fake pregnancy, was now worried that the child was getting in the way. That said, they’d arranged for her to have access to another policewoman’s child if Adam asked to see Mia. She also planned to take the baby along to the drop-in centre to show Beth.

  ‘Hi there,’ she said, looking up into the therapist’s eyes. With his dark T-shirt and tight black cords he looked more like a rock star than a psychologist.

  ‘Good morning, Olivia. And how’s the little one?’

  ‘Out of hospital, but making a hell of a noise about it so I left her with a neighbour.’

  ‘And here I was, about to set up a free crèche.’

  ‘I could use one for myself,’ she joked as she followed him into his office. ‘I quite fancy a couple of hours in the Wendy House. I never have any time nowadays just for me.’

  It was sort of true, she reflected; what with commuting, work and tidying up after Marc, she was always on the go.

  ‘Consider this your “me” time,’ Adam said as she sat down on the couch. ‘But I know what you mean. Widows tell me that they miss that one-to-one relationship, the feeling of being nurtured.’

  ‘Too right. It’s hard doing everything alone.’

  ‘What do you find most difficult?’ He was, she had to admit, kindness personified and seemed to view her as a person rather than merely a client.

  ‘Being both Mum and Dad and sole breadwinner. Oh, and I struggle with DIY.’

  ‘You’ve gone back to work?’

  ‘I’ve had to, for financial reasons. I’m so lucky that I work from home.’

  ‘I was thinking about your situation the other day, checked out a few subsidized childcare groups,’ Adam said, riffling through a sheaf of papers. Olivia accepted a typed list from him. ‘I also have a list of local plumbers, electricians and so on who have been vetted by one of the charities for senior citizens.’

  ‘That would be brilliant. I’m terrified of letting one of those cowboy builders through the door.’

  The psychologist rummaged through one of his filing cabinets and brought out a booklet, handed it to her.

  ‘If you have similar practical problems, let me know. I’m in touch with various charities who supply volunteers for gardening work and so on.’

  ‘My main problems are social,’ Olivia murmured. ‘Now that Zak’s dead, I have no one to go out dining or dancing with.’

  For the best part of an hour, they spoke about her sense of sadness that her husband would never see his child, her feelings about being different from older widows. She also told him about her insomnia and he recommended exercise earlier in the day and meditation at night. She felt a slight pull of disappointment as the session ended, had begun to feel very relaxed as she stretched out on his couch.

  ‘Is there anything else that I can help you with?’ he asked as he walked her to the door.

  Olivia took a deep breath, grinned and said, ‘A boyfriend would be nice!’

  He smiled back. ‘Unfortun
ately I’m not running a dating agency.’

  ‘Don’t you know of anyone?’ Her heart beating faster, she touched his hand.

  ‘If any of my more eligible friends become single, you’ll be the first to know.’

  Fortune favours the brave, she thought and took a deep breath. ‘Do you have a twin?’

  ‘If I do, we were separated at birth, but I’ll keep my eyes peeled for you,’ Adam said, then winced. ‘I wonder who coined such a horrible expression?’

  ‘A masochist,’ Olivia replied and they both laughed.

  ‘Same time next week?’ he asked.

  ‘Maybe sooner? As I said, I haven’t been sleeping.’

  ‘Try that aerobics class I mentioned plus the mindfulness of breathing programme and I’m sure that you’ll see a difference.’

  ‘I’ll give it my best shot, then,’ Olivia said.

  She walked down the path feeling thwarted that he hadn’t returned the pressure when she touched his hand, that he was in no particular rush to see her again. She’d pretended that she’d like to go out on a date with him but he hadn’t risen to the bait. She was beginning to think that they were targeting the wrong man, that Adam Neave genuinely had lost his wife to suicide. She also doubted that he’d strangled that local woman, Hannah, far less gone to Bristol and murdered a second girl. If her own experience – and that of Beth, his colleague – was typical, he was a caring and dedicated professional who was helping his patients to get the most out of their lives.

  SEVENTEEN

  ‘If you don’t visit soon, she’ll cut you out of her will.’

  Adam felt the rage surge through him as he listened to Nicholas’s latest message. He hit the delete button and felt a momentary pleasure when the automatic voice said, ‘All messages erased.’ He’d like to erase the goody-two-shoes in person so that he, Adam, was the preferred brother instead of the prodigal son.

  He honestly didn’t believe that he was doing anything wrong. Why should he visit these boring geriatrics just because they’d chosen to adopt him? After all, they must have been bored or unfulfilled to start with, had a baby-sized hole in their lives. They’d chosen to create a family because it hadn’t occurred to them not to. They were dull traditionalists who had tried to fit him into their limiting mould. He’d done his bit, giving his mother an excuse to avoid work throughout his early years. He wasn’t sure exactly what his father had got out of it, but then he’d never understood the older man.

  But he’d put up with them until he left home, so he surely deserved to benefit financially when his mother snuffed it. It would be a financial reward for never telling them exactly what he thought of them. He’d always been careful not to overstep the mark, aware that they were a source of emergency accommodation, home-cooked meals and ready cash, though he’d sometimes had to help himself to the latter from his father’s money box or mother’s purse. His financial precariousness and his determination to sow his oats as a young man had earned their disapproval, but he’d subsequently given the impression that he’d shaped up, and they’d been delighted when he went to university as a mature student, graduated and prospered in his chosen career. But Nicholas had written him off by then, had made it clear that he despised him, that he was no good.

  Now, he dialled his parents’ number and his father answered.

  ‘Dad? It’s Adam. I’ve been away on a course, just heard about Mum.’

  He listened to the man’s ramblings, was surprised to hear that his mother had been hospitalized already. Hadn’t she only been diagnosed recently? He’d assumed that she had a few months left.

  ‘She’s sleeping most of the time but when she wakes up she’s very confused,’ his father continued, his voice trembling. ‘We stayed all night but Nicholas insisted that I come home for a rest and a change of clothes.’

  ‘I’ll go now, Dad.’ He got the details, took the car to the hospital. He might see Beth there if he was lucky, could chat her up a bit more.

  A middle-aged nurse took him aside as soon as he arrived. ‘She’s been asking for you.’ She looked at him sourly.

  ‘I’ve been away, just got back at lunchtime.’

  ‘She already has two visitors.’

  That would be Nicholas and Jill, given that his father was at home having a shave or eating a microwaved spaghetti bolognese whilst watching Deal Or No Deal or yet another repeat of Cash In The Attic. He’d always had such proletariat taste.

  ‘I’ll take over then, give them a break.’

  He smiled at her and she smiled back. Gotcha.

  ‘I’m so glad that I got back when I did,’ he added, donning his most sincere expression.

  ‘It’s just as well.’

  ‘You mean . . .?’ He deliberately tailed off, made his eyes wider.

  ‘We thought that she had three weeks but she’s deteriorating rapidly.’

  He took a deep breath. ‘How long has she got, Sister?’

  ‘It could be as little as three days.’

  Would he get any money then or would he have to wait until his father snuffed it? And then share everything with their biological offspring, the favoured son? Nicholas always remembered the Mother’s Day cards, the birthdays and anniversaries, whereas he, Adam, was too busy living his life.

  She was in a side room, the type that they put you in when you were close to death. He knew the drill thanks to his bereavement counselling. Nicholas and Jill were sitting holding hands with each other, though Nicholas also had his left hand on top of his mother’s. Adam felt both estranged and claustrophobic just observing the scene.

  ‘Dad asked me to give you both a break,’ he said.

  ‘We’re OK,’ Nicholas said stiffly.

  Jill smiled at him wearily, or was it warily? ‘No, we need to get a coffee, stretch our legs.’

  ‘OK, but we’ll be back in fifteen.’

  They left and he sat on the seat that his sister-in-law had vacated. It was still warm from her body and he briefly thought about fucking her. He’d love to make her break her wedding vows, if only for a day. The ideal, of course, would be to impregnate her and make sure that Nicholas knew that the child was born of adultery.

  He stared at the morphine drip but turned his attention to his mother when he heard her voice. She sounded like she was dreaming, but she was staring straight at him, though her eyes were filmy.

  ‘Nicholas, I want you to make up with your brother.’

  He opened his mouth to explain that he wasn’t Nicholas then promptly closed it again, curious as to what she was going to say.

  ‘All right, Mum.’

  ‘I’ll never believe that he killed Helen.’

  Aha, so his brother had actually accused him of being a murderer.

  ‘But the police suspected him,’ he murmured. ‘You know they did.’

  ‘Only because you went to them.’ With what seemed to be a Herculean effort, she turned her head to face him more fully. ‘Nicholas, promise me that you’ll tell them that you were wrong. I don’t want to die knowing that you two are still fighting.’

  Jesus, so Nicholas had actually fingered him to the boys in blue.

  ‘I promise that I’ll pay him a visit soon, Mum.’ He meant it, too. It would be a memorable visit with far reaching consequences, albeit not the kind that his dying mother was trying to desperately arrange. Revenge was going to be so sweet that it would make his teeth ache. He just needed time to come up with a suitably vicious plan.

  EIGHTEEN

  Beth sank gratefully into Matthew’s arms as they lay curled up together on the settee.

  ‘You’re so funny and entertaining,’ he murmured, kissing the top of her head.

  Beth loved it when he kissed her there, and said so.

  ‘I love kissing you all over,’ he responded, holding her even more tightly than he had before. Earlier in the week she’d had bad period pains and he’d insisted on doing her shopping and constantly refilling the hot water bottle which helped soothe her stomach. She’d never felt s
o nurtured, Beth thought, so adored. It was almost like dating a woman, albeit one who hadn’t yet figured out how to make her come.

  ‘So, how was work today?’ she asked.

  ‘A woman locked herself out in Nailsea, a man broke the handle off his door in Worle and a pensioner got her key stuck in the lock at Clevedon.’

  As usual, Beth tried to get more detail and perhaps an anecdote. ‘Must be disconcerting if you’re elderly.’

  ‘No, she stayed with her next-door neighbour whilst I sorted things out. I got the impression that she didn’t have much money, so I knocked twenty percent off the total charge.’

  Beth kissed his hand, noticing that the veins stood out in a way that hers didn’t. Not that she cared about the age difference. Remembering that he’d said that he loved to help her, she decided to mention a recent problem with her house.

  ‘The back door has started to stick at times, though it’s probably just swelling in the heat. If it continues, I’ll get you to take a look at it.’

  ‘Any time in the next thirty years,’ Matthew said.

  He really was in it for the long haul, Beth thought, and felt glad that he wasn’t leaving her in any doubt about his feelings. It was nice to feel that the uncertainty which followed widowhood was over, that it was no longer a life of me, myself and I. He was a good and caring man and he treasured her. What more could she want? OK, it would have been a bonus if he’d been more of a talker but she got most of her conversational fix from her work and her voluntary counselling. She could surely learn to live with someone who was quiet.

  ‘I love the fact that we’re so comfortable together,’ Matthew said.

  Say something loving to him, Beth chided herself but again her throat closed and the words remained unuttered, as always. When he alluded to love, however indirectly, she couldn’t respond so settled for complimenting him on his appearance, but she was running out of things to praise. Last week she’d told him that he had nice eyebrows, surely the first time that that particular body part had been praised.