The Adulterer's Wife

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The Adulterer's Wife Page 18

by Leigh Russell


  At last Andrew spoke. ‘What does your son say about all this? He’s how old?’

  ‘Seventeen.’

  ‘And what’s his view on his living arrangements?’

  ‘I don't know. They won't let me speak to him. God only knows what lies they’re telling him about me. You have to stop them. There must be a law to stop them. They’ve kidnapped him. He's a child- ’

  ‘He's seventeen.’

  ‘But he’s not... he has cerebral palsy.’

  ‘And from what I’ve gathered, he’s a bright capable young man, thanks to all the care you’ve lavished on him.’

  ‘Which is why he belongs here, with me. You can't let them take him away, you can't. There must be a law to protect him.’

  ‘Are you saying he was taken against his will?’ he asked, his languor gone.

  ‘Yes, well, no, not exactly.’

  Miserably I explained that Dan and I had argued, and he had walked out.

  ‘Do you have reasonable grounds to suspect he’s in any way at risk from his grandparents?’

  ‘At risk? What do you mean?’

  ‘Is living with them likely to cause him any harm?’

  ‘No, of course not. It’s nothing like that. They take good care of him. But it’s not the same. He should be here, with me. I’m his mother. It’s just that we had an argument and he’s gone running back to them.’

  ‘So he contacted his grandparents himself, asking them to take him back?’

  I hesitated.

  ‘If the family court questions him, is that what he’ll say? That he left you of his own volition?’

  ‘I suppose so.’

  ‘Then I’m sorry, Julie, but there's really nothing I can do to help you. In law, your son is free to make his own decision about where he wants to live. No law has been broken, and so this is not a legal issue. I’m sorry.’

  ‘So what can I do?’

  ‘If you want my advice, speak to your son and request that he meet you to discuss your relationship and heal the rift between you.’

  I shook my head. Dan was my son, my flesh and blood. There could be no rift between us.

  34

  Assuming Stella was right, Dan had a new laptop giving him access to the internet. I spent the rest of the morning drafting an email to him, telling him how much I loved and missed him, just as I still loved and missed his father. I went on to tell Dan that the disappearance of his laptop had nothing to do with me. The police were responsible, and I had filed a complaint about their negligence.

  With any luck, I told Dan, he would receive compensation for the loss of his old laptop in addition to his grandparents buying him a new one. I told him I had called the police station to enquire into the procedure for making a claim for property lost while confiscated by the police. That at least was true. I had been in contact with my local police station to lodge a complaint about my son's missing laptop.

  Once they accepted responsibility, Dan would have to agree that it wasn't my fault his computer had gone missing. The police insisted my signature confirming receipt of the laptop was proof it had been returned to us, but I was adamant they should compensate Dan for his loss. Somehow, I had to persuade them to accept liability for the lost laptop or Dan might never absolve me of blame.

  After working on that one short email for more than an hour, writing and rewriting it over and over again, I finally sent it off. It was one o’clock by the time I finished. The house seemed to be suffocating me, I had spent so much time there alone, so after a quick lunch, I checked my emails for the last time before going out. I couldn’t stay at home interminably, waiting for Dan to respond. In any case, I could pick up any messages on my iPhone so there was no need for me to stay in. I was free to go out until six, at any rate. I didn’t know where I was going, only that I had to get out of the house with all its painful memories.

  My phone rang while I was walking to the station. With a thrill of anticipation, I checked the screen, but it wasn’t Dan. So much had changed in my life since I had last seen Nina, that I wasn’t sure how to respond when she invited me over.

  ‘It’s been a while since we had a good chat, just the two of us,’ she said. ‘We’re in the same boat now and have to support each other. I know what it’s like.’

  Her husband had left her for another woman a couple of years earlier, but at least he hadn’t skulked around hiding his affair from her, and he hadn’t died. She had been inconsolable at the time, veering hysterically between rage and grief. Katie and I had both spent hours counselling her to move on and Nina had finally come to terms with her situation. The divorce settlement had been generous, considering she was financially independent in her own right. Even more important than the house was the fact that she had no children who could be stolen away from her. She had no idea of the torment I was experiencing. Even so, I agreed to see her. I was desperate to see a friendly face.

  As soon as we sat down, Nina reached out and put her hand on my arm.

  ‘Julie, you look terrible,’ she said. ‘How are you bearing up? Have they found out who did it yet?’

  I shook my head, momentarily unable to speak.

  ‘It’s all too awful,’ I muttered.

  ‘Let me get you a coffee and you can tell me everything,’ she said.

  Alone, I gazed around her orderly living room. Magazines were neatly stored in a rack on the floor in front of a row of shelves, each one tidily arranged with books and ornaments. Everything looked clean, and there were no finger marks on the table or smears on the windows, as though the whole room had recently been dusted and polished. I wondered if this was what my house was going to look like now I lived alone with nothing to do all day but clean and tidy. Nina’s curtains looked as though they had just been laundered, her carpet was spotless and the glass ornaments on her shelves sparkled.

  ‘It’s not Paul,’ I told her as she sat down. ‘I mean, it is about him too, but he’s dead and gone from my life now, whatever happens.’

  ‘It must be so hard for you,’ she sympathised. ‘What have the police said? Have they got any idea who did it?’

  I shook my head. ‘If they have, they haven’t told me.’

  ‘Obviously it was an intruder, but how can they not have found any evidence yet?’ She gave a wry smile. ‘It’s nothing like CSI in real life, is it?’

  I shrugged. ‘They’re still investigating, and I suppose they’ll let me know when they find out what happened.’ I hesitated. ‘I think they still think it was me.’

  ‘That’s terrible.’

  ‘But the worst thing is that Dan’s been taken away from me.’

  I broke off, stunned by the enormity of what I had just said. Saying the words out loud to someone else seemed to give the situation a reality that had so far hovered in the realms of nightmare. But this was no bad dream. It was actually happening. My son had left me, and I might never see him again.

  ‘Surely they can’t do that!’ Nina burst out, looking shocked. ‘He’s your son and he needs to be with you, especially at a time like this. Who’s taken him? You’ve got to fight it. Get a lawyer onto it. Never mind your feelings, what about him? He needs to be with his mother, in a familiar environment, while he deals with what’s happened. He’s just lost his father. It doesn’t matter what it costs. I’ve got money stashed away, from when Andy left. You can borrow as much as you need and pay it back whenever you can.’

  Her kindness made me cry. I stammered my thanks.

  ‘Now, get yourself a good lawyer, never mind the cost, and have Dan back home with you as soon as possible.’

  I shook my head, sniffing back my tears. ‘You don’t understand. It’s not that simple. The fact is, I spoke to a lawyer and there’s nothing I can do about it because no crime’s been committed.’ I burst into tears again. ‘Dan’s grandparents have taken him in and offered him a home, and he’s accepted. It’s what he wants. He’s chosen to go and live with them in Scotland. He doesn’t want to be with me.’ The last word ca
me out in a long wail, broken by sobs.

  ‘Dan’s chosen to leave home? I don’t believe that for a minute. Your in-laws have persuaded him to do it. Don’t forget, they’ve just lost their son.’

  I nodded, unable to speak. The same thought had occurred to me. Nina made tea, and did her best to comfort me, but her solicitude couldn’t change what had happened. After a while, I pretended to feel a little better, embarrassed to admit that her kindness wasn’t helping.

  ‘I’m lucky to have a friend like you,’ I told her.

  But nothing she could say or do would bring Dan back.

  ‘I might as well have died the night Paul was killed,’ I said.

  ‘Don’t be so melodramatic. Dan will come around. He’s bound to. Once he calms down, he’ll come back to you. Remember, none of this was your fault. He’s just venting his anger over his father’s death, and taking it out on you, that’s all.’

  By five o’clock, I had to think about leaving. She tried to insist I stay for supper, saying she was happy to cook, or we could go out to eat. Tired of pretending everything was back to normal, I lifted my trouser leg to expose my tag. Her eyes widened in surprise.

  ‘What the hell is that?’

  I explained. ‘So I have to get home by six.’

  ‘Or what?’ She gave a little laugh. ‘They’ll throw you back in jail?’

  ‘This isn’t a joke, Nina. Yes, they could do that.’

  ‘Surely not. They can’t treat you like a criminal. It’s outrageous.’

  ‘Not if they suspect I killed Paul.’

  ‘But they can’t prove it.’

  ‘Of course not. They can’t prove something that never happened,’ I said. But I wasn't convinced that was true.

  With Nina’s assurances that she was always there for me ringing in my ears, I returned to my empty house.

  35

  That night I hardly slept for worry. My plan to discover who had murdered my husband was going nowhere. Ackerman was useless. All he had done so far was take my belongings and disappear for days. Admittedly he had discovered that two glasses of wine had been spiked with Rohypnol, but the police already knew about that, so it hadn't led to any further investigation. Now it seemed I was losing my son as well.

  It was time to start looking seriously into the cause of my husband's death. If no one else was going to do it, I would have to conduct my own investigation. Meeting Anita had been interesting. Maybe Bella's other neighbours could give me information about her affair with my husband. At any rate, it would do no harm to ask them.

  Curious, but without high expectations, I set off for Hampstead early on Saturday morning. Bella must have been very successful to afford a flat there. Either that, or wealthy parents had been supporting her. For the first time, I wondered how many other lives had been ruined as a consequence of Paul’s affair.

  The sun came out as I left Finchley Road station, and I suddenly felt irrationally optimistic. All I had to do was find out what had happened to Bella, and my husband’s murderer might be revealed. The pavement was crowded with people, mostly young, of diverse ethnicities, all staring straight ahead as they hurried along. Crossing at traffic lights, I left the busy thoroughfare behind me and walked up a wide side street. As the hill grew steeper, I turned into the side street where Bella had lived. At half past nine on Saturday morning, it was a reasonably safe bet that Bella’s neighbours might still be at home. And there was no sign of any police presence. The forensic team must have finished examining her flat.

  There was one other resident listed at the door, apart from Anita and Bella. The name on the third flat was Hallam, presumably a surname. Not quite decided yet what I was going to say, I rang the bell.

  ‘Who is it?’ a man’s voice responded.

  He sounded quite young, and sleepy. I had probably woken him up.

  ‘I’m sorry to bother you,’ I began.

  ‘Who are you? Do you know what time it is?’

  ‘I’m a friend of Bella’s.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Bella Foster. She lived on the third floor.’

  ‘Oh, yes, of course, Bella. The woman who died.’

  He sounded embarrassed at not having realised at once who I was talking about. Having caught him on the back foot, I pressed on.

  ‘I wanted to talk to you about her. Can I come in?’

  ‘Hang on.’

  I guessed he was throwing on some clothes.

  A moment later he buzzed me in and I found his door ajar. Rapping as loudly as I could, I pushed it open and went in.

  ‘Hi,’ he greeted me with a cheery smile.

  He didn’t look much older than Dan, very young to be living in such an expensive area.

  ‘I didn’t really know her very well,’ he said straight away. ‘The woman who lived on the top floor. I mean, I know her name and we used to meet up to discuss maintenance issues. She seemed very nice,’ he added lamely.

  Of course, that meant nothing. Bella was dead, and I had told him she was my friend. He was hardly going to denigrate her.

  ‘I’m trying to find out what happened to her,’ I told him.

  ‘She was murdered,’ he answered solemnly. ‘The police were all over the entry hall and in and out of her front door, in their white forensic suits, you know the kind of thing.’

  ‘But they still don’t seem to know who did it.’

  He shrugged. ‘I can’t say I really have the foggiest idea about what they know or don’t know. They haven’t kept us informed and, to be honest, I haven’t asked. Not that I don’t care what happened to her,’ he added quickly, ‘but I’ve been busy. I work in the city and they keep us at it to all hours. So, can I offer you a coffee or something?’

  Thanking him, I left as quickly as I could without being rude. There was nothing to be gained by staying any longer and while I was hanging around in his flat, other neighbours might be preparing to go out. Having spoken to both the other residents in Bella’s block, I tried the building next door. This time there was no series of bells with names beside them, so I rang the main bell. The woman who came to the door was about twenty years older than me.

  ‘Yes, dear?’

  When she heard the same story that I had given to her neighbours in the next building, she shook her head.

  ‘It was a terrible tragedy,’ she said. ‘The police were here for days. We thought they were never going to be finished.’

  In her long-winded way, she told me the same as I had just heard from the young man living in Bella’s building. She hadn’t known the murdered woman and could tell me nothing I didn’t already know.

  The house on the other side of Bella’s building had been converted into two flats.

  ‘My friend Amelie might be able to tell you something,’ the girl who opened the door on the ground floor flat said. ‘She used to go out clubbing in Camden with Bella. If you’d like to wait a minute, I’ll go and get her.’

  She didn't invite me in, instead closing the door and leaving me outside. I waited impatiently to speak to her friend, hardly daring to hope I might actually learn something. A few moments later, another young woman came to the door and smiled uncertainly at me. She was very pretty, with blue eyes and long blonde hair. On closer inspection, she looked older than she had first appeared.

  ‘What do you want?’

  ‘You were friends with Bella who lived next door?’

  Her features twisted in a faint scowl. ‘We weren’t exactly friends. I wouldn’t say we were friends.’

  I waited for her to go on, but she didn't say anything else.

  ‘Your flatmate said you went clubbing with her?’ I prompted her at last. She nodded. ‘That’s right. We used to hang out at the World’s End.’

  ‘Is that a night club?’

  She stared at me as though I were speaking a foreign language. ‘Yes, that’s what I just said.’

  ‘So you were there with Bella?’

  ‘Yes. That was before.’

  ‘Bef
ore what?’

  ‘Before we stopped being friends. Look, we used to be friends. That is, we used to hang out together. But then Bella got involved with a man.’

  ‘Paul?’

  She nodded. Knowing Bella only used to see Paul on Tuesdays, I wasn't quite sure how that relationship would have affected her other friendships, although Amelie seemed to be implying that once Bella met Paul she stopped going out clubbing and was no longer fun to hang out with.

  ‘So what happened?’ I asked her. ‘What difference did that make? Was she too busy to see you once she had a boyfriend?’ I knew that couldn’t be true.

  ‘No, no, it was nothing like that. It's just that...’ She shrugged. ‘Paul was, well…’ Amelie glanced at me as though to figure out how I might react. ‘Did you ever meet him?’

  I shook my head.

  ‘You wouldn’t understand then. We never meant it to happen.’

  ‘What do you mean? What happened? Please, I really want to know. Bella meant a lot to me.’

  Amelie raised her blue eyes and stared straight at me, her expression inscrutable.

  ‘Bella found out.’

  ‘Found out what?’

  She pulled a face. ‘She saw him leaving my house one afternoon. He used to come and see me, when he could get time off work. It didn't happen often, because he couldn't get away much. Anyway, we were saying goodbye on the doorstep, and she caught us.’

  ‘Caught you?’

  ‘Yes. Oh Jesus, do I really have to spell it out for you? Bella saw us kissing. After that she never spoke to me again.’

  I stared at her in surprise. ‘You mean-’ I wasn’t sure what to say. ‘Are you telling me you were having a relationship with him as well?’

  ‘Yes. I just told you that. Although it wasn’t exactly a relationship. It was very casual, and he stopped seeing me as soon as she found out. She kicked up a bit of a fuss. It’s not as if I was the only one,’ she added quickly.

  I don’t know how I kept my voice steady. ‘What do you mean you weren’t the only one? Was Paul sleeping with other women as well as Bella and you?’

 

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