Tortured Minds

by Colin Griffiths

  It always pays to have the boss on your side, I thought smugly.

  * * *

  Leaving the office, I decided it was time to pay Becky Johnson a little visit. We had never really spoken or met face to face, yet I knew she hated me. Regardless, I needed to find a way to bring her on to my side. I was building a list of enemies and with her now colluding with that drugged-up slut Lucy, heaven knows what they were cooking up. All I knew was that it couldn’t be good.

  I had found her address from her car registration, it was easy enough if you had the contacts. She lived just out of town in a small townhouse, too small really, to raise a young child. Damien, the boy’s name was and I was confident that he was Daniel’s son. He had to be. Somehow, that didn’t bother me too much. I never really wanted children and I knew Daniel was desperate to be a father.

  After we had lost our child he had begged us to start trying again. I never told him outright, but I had been so pleased when that pregnancy failed. I knew he doubted I was even pregnant in the first place. So, when I realised the woman at McDonald’s was, in fact, the lover he had been texting, it made sense he would break his sacred marriage vows to leave me for her, if it was his only chance to be a Dad. I felt a little pang of sadness overwhelm me as I realised he would never fulfil that dream now, he would never see that boy grow into a man.

  As I pulled up outside Becky’s drive, I could see the television flashing through the front window. Okay, act two for the day Molly, I told myself as I walked up the path to her front door. I knocked loudly on the door and it didn’t take long for her to answer. Her eyes widened, as she recognised me immediately. Of course, she did, she’d been at Danny’s bloody funeral!

  “What are you doing here?” She demanded tightly.

  “Give me a couple of minutes, that’s all…” I asked her, in a friendly manner. She looked me up and down, as though I may have been carrying some sort of concealed weapon. “I’m not here to cause any grief, I just want to talk,” I assured her. She nodded tentatively and stepped aside to let me in. I followed her through to the kitchen.

  “Coffee?” Her voice was tight. I could tell she despised having me here, but I would change that.

  “Yes please, white, no sugar,” I said graciously. You are probably wondering why I’m here?”

  “You could say that,” she answered curtly. I nodded accepting that this wasn’t going to be easy.

  “You would have recognised me in the park that day, but you didn’t say anything?” I asked cautiously. She nodded, reflecting on that afternoon I had followed Jake to the path. We had spoken that day as two strangers. I hadn’t recognised her then, but she knew me.

  “Yes. I did.”

  “I understand why you didn’t say anything.” I needed to play this carefully. “You loved my husband, I know that and I think he loved you too,” I said solemnly. Her eyes welled with emotion and I knew I could play this angle. “Your son? He is Daniel’s, yes?” She nodded. “He always wanted to be a father, I’m sorry he will miss out on that.” I looked intently into her eyes and she searched mine. Clearly she didn’t trust me, so I carried on. “You see, I didn’t want children, I made that fairly clear, but, for Daniel, that wasn’t enough. I know that now. He would have left me for you and your son, his son. I was upset at the time, but I understand that now. I loved him, but I couldn’t love him the way he wanted to be loved. So I would have lost him if…” I stopped. “... well... I did lose him anyway,” I finished.

  Becky passed me the coffee. “I hated you. I think I still do,” she said bluntly.

  “I don’t blame you.” I agreed with her. “I would have hated me too. I think Daniel sometimes did,” I said sadly, lowering my eyes, aiming to appeal to her emotions. “But Becky, I have to be honest, Daniel didn’t love me the way a man loves a wife. I can only hope he would have wanted to love you the way you deserved if he had lived, but I fear that there was always someone else stopping that.” I was staring at the floor, hoping my earnest admission would strike the right chord.

  “I don’t understand…” she moved towards me and I looked up tentatively.

  “You see, there were three people in that relationship and I’m not talking about you.” Her eyes widened and I could tell she was thinking it was another woman. “Jake,” I finished brusquely.

  Her eyes widened in disbelief. “You mean…” she started, but couldn’t finish her sentence.

  “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think they were involved in that way,” I emphasised. “But I knew I never really had Daniel’s full heart and perhaps that was my failing, I just didn’t fight for him hard enough…” I was playing the sympathy card. “Your friend Lucy…” I probed, “she loves Jake, yes?” Becky nodded. “Look, Becky, Jake will never love anyone but Daniel, not before he died, not now, not ever. They were one and the same. I knew that and nothing I could do would ever break that bond.”

  I watched Becky as the slow realisation started to dawn. “I’m not here to cause trouble Becky, I want to do what is right by you and your son. I want to undo the wrong I did to Daniel by not giving him the child he so hoped for.” Her brow creased, as suspicion started to creep in again.

  “I don’t understand, why would you help me, your husband’s mistress?”

  “Because it’s the right thing to do. You’re a single mum, raising a child. Daniel didn’t leave me much in his insurance.” I tried to hide the bitterness behind that comment, having found out I would barely receive ten percent of the total policy payout. “You see, he left a legacy to the school of journalism, to help encourage students to pursue a career in the field, with a scholarship fund. He was such a giving soul,” I emphasised enthusiastically, gritting my teeth privately.

  “Good for him, but how does that help me or Damien?” I could tell I was losing her. I stepped forward, reaching out to put my hand on her shoulder.

  “I plan to set up a trust fund for Damien,” I said simply. “I’ll use a portion of the insurance money, depositing fifteen thousand now into a trust account, as well as provide a weekly allowance to help support little Damien’s ongoing needs. This was Daniel’s legacy and he would have wanted it to go to his only son.” I was buying her, but it didn't matter to me. I didn’t really need the money and I needed Becky on-side, for good.

  I watched as Becky tried to speak, but no words came out of her mouth. I held her shoulder firm as her legs wobbled and water brimmed her eyes. “I.. I... don’t know what to say? I wanted to hate you?” The doubt in her voice was clear, but I had her.

  “I wanted to hate you too, when I first found out about you and Daniel,” I admitted honestly. “I guess losing him gave me some perspective. I’m sorry you lost him too.” She nodded, a tear rolled down her cheek and she smiled at me for the first time. “I never really had Daniel... Jake did,” I emphasised. “I guess I lost him a long time before he died…” I threw out the statement again, I wanted her to feel sorry for me.

  “You should know,” Becky started tentatively, “Lucy, the mother of the… girl, I was watching that day,” she seemed to hesitate over the word girl, I let it pass. “She will do anything to hurt you.”

  “Hmmmm... yeah, I know. I was responsible for her arrest a few years back. I wrote an article about drug pushers on teens and she was one of the guilty parties. I couldn’t stand by and let innocent young kids fall victim to drug abuse…” I pushed the point. “I can’t say I’m sorry for that article. If I saved just one young life from drug abuse, it was worth it.” Becky seemed to understand and nodded. I had shown her a different side to me. I placed the coffee cup down on her counter and froze as I recognised Daniel’s handwriting on her benchtop:

  ‘Be careful who you play with darling. Keep our son safe. I will protect you both.’

  I looked up at Becky. I couldn’t hide the shock and fear on my face. “Daniel?” I asked hesitantly. I wasn’t sure I even wanted to hear the answer.

  “I... I... think so,” she replied cautiously, her eyes
darting around the room. I breathed out. It wasn’t possible, or was it? I wondered. The email, the writing on the mirror, the other day in the kitchen, the note on my refrigerator… could he still be...? Becky watched my eyes as I tried to search for an explanation.

  “You’ve seen it too?” she suddenly said, recognising the same fear and questions in my own expressions. I nodded, not sure what this meant, or why?

  “He’s not really gone,” I said cautiously. We both nodded agreeing, but neither of us sure of what that actually meant for either of us.

  I had come here to play Becky, to keep her sweet, but now I really wasn’t sure, just who was playing who?

  * * *

  Chapter 23 - Jake

  I didn’t believe for one minute that her email had been hacked. Yet, somehow, that’s what Molly had made Simon Reynolds believe. Put it like this, if there had been an email hack we would have had our technical guys all over it. Systems would have been shut down, traces would have been done, there would have been uproar. But no, there was nothing. “Oooh, we’ve had a hack, let's just carry on as normal shall we?” I didn’t buy it and when Reynolds phoned and told me, I could tell he didn’t buy it either. I knew Molly had got to him, she probably fucked him. I hoped she had, because then, maybe, I could put the fear of God into both her and Simon.

  As soon as Simon informed me of his decision to publish ‘The Death of a Husband’, I had no hesitation in handing in my notice. Of course, I made sure it was diplomatic and professional. It wasn’t as though I had quit with any great indignation. I wasn’t spitting my dummy out, or throwing my toys out of the cot. I just simply didn’t want to work for a paper whose Editor was apt to change his decisions with the promise of a bit of pussy. If only he knew. If he ever tasted that haven, he would have no clue what he really was letting himself in for. I wasn’t going to warn him, I would let him find out the hard way, one thing I knew for sure was that he would soon regret it. Reynolds happily accepted my resignation, allowing me to leave immediately. It felt as though a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders and I could finally breathe again.

  I don’t think it was just the incident with Molly’s story, it was everything I had been experiencing since the death of Daniel that had been playing on my mind. Last night as I sat in my usual position at home, drinking my favourite whisky, a strange emotion had come over me. In a way, it felt a bit like astral projection, (not that I know how that feels, but it’s the only way I can describe it). Suddenly I was floating, looking down at myself, and in that vision I could also see Daniel. Normally that would comfort me, I have felt his presence around me ever since his death. It had given me an inner strength and helped me believe I was in control and strong again. It had felt like he was by my side, but not last night. Last night I sensed trepidation and revenge, not mine, but Daniel’s. Frankly, I was fed up with being a pawn in everybody else's game. Dead or alive I had to leave them.

  Now don’t get me wrong, I still loved both Daniel and Molly, but with one now dead and the other clearly changed because of that death, everything was different. The Three Musketeers had gone, never more to be. When I woke that morning I had set about making arrangements for the estate agent to come and value my apartment. It was quite a sought after area and I was hoping it wouldn’t take long to sell. I spent an hour or so searching properties down South and had only just made myself a sandwich and a coffee when the buzzer of my door sounded. Making my way to the hallway, I looked at the security camera and felt my heart race, as I buzzed the door open. I stood there waiting like a nonchalant child. What the hell could this be about?

  “I come in peace,” she said as I opened my apartment door for her to come in. I gestured for her to take a seat on the sofa, which she duly did.

  “Coffee?” I suggested to her, but she shook her head. I noticed the bitter look on her face was no longer there. If I had to describe it, I would have said it was a face covered in guilt. Sitting in my armchair, I didn’t take my eyes off her.

  “I have come to apologise,” she said slowly, “and, perhaps, give you some sort of explanation.” I wasn’t quite sure what she had to apologise for, but I was intrigued.

  “Go ahead Becky, it is Becky isn't it? I am starting to wonder just who is who lately. Now, if you're going to tell me Maryann or Sylvie is really mine, then I may just have to remove you from my property.” She gave me a nervous grin. I didn’t like that, I couldn't read it. She seemed to be searching for the right words and then she stood up, with what appeared to be genuine remorse on her face.

  “I'm sorry, I shouldn’t have come here, not after what I was a party to, making you believe Sylvie was your daughter. It was unforgivable.” She went to leave, but I stood in front of her, stopping her. I sensed she feared me, as she sucked in her breath lightly.

  “You’re here now... so, tell me what this is all about,” I demanded. Becky started to talk, telling me everything. I stayed silent, just listening to her story. Most of the time I had my head in my hands shaking my head. I could hear her voice breaking at times and I could hear the genuine remorse in her voice as she told me about her affair with Daniel, how she had conceived a son with him and how they were planning to wed. She told me she had loathed Molly for the hold she seemed to have on Daniel and how she wanted revenge after he had died. She also told me about Molly’s recent visit and that she had offered to buy her out, most likely to keep her silent. I didn’t respond to her, I hardly spoke at all.

  “I am so sorry, Jake,” she added, as she stood to leave. This time, I would let her go. As I walked her to the door, she turned around to face me and I could see her eyes watering. “I just want this to be all over with now.” I nodded with understanding, “If you ever want to come around and see Damien you can. I know you and Daniel were very close.”

  “That would be nice,” I responded, trying to stop my voice from breaking.

  It was still early afternoon, but that bottle of Famous Grouse was opened soon after she left... and I needed that hit. I added some ice to the glass and sat out on the balcony, feeling like I had just been told Daniel had died all over again. In some ways, though, this felt far worse, because I was feeling betrayed. Daniel’s dishonesty had hit me hard. He had an affair, a son? How could he not have told me that?

  He knew everything about me and now it felt as if I didn’t know him at all.

  I sat looking out over that city I had grown to love, but wanted to hate. Somehow Daniel’s lie had made my choice to leave easier. Yes, I viewed it as a lie. Not telling me was as good as, if not worse, than lying. My own father had been a liar, keeping all sorts of things from me. I was used to being lied to. Yet from Daniel I had somehow expected more, but now I realised he was no different. My rage grew into tears, as all of my emotions poured out, for the friend I had now truly lost.

  I didn’t replenish my glass, I needed to hold onto that sobriety. I made myself a coffee and washed down two painkillers, along with all the other medication I had to take. I could feel a headache coming on and I didn’t need that. I got washed and shaved, before putting on my work suit. Simon Reynolds had told me I could go in and empty my desk whenever I wanted, during the time I was on gardening leave. Now seemed as good a time as any, though there really was nothing there I particularly wanted, only painful memories that I just wanted to fade.

  I could see Molly in the office as soon as I arrived. She was sitting in her cubicle typing away. My heart was racing as I approached her. I still felt extremely wound up. She either heard or sensed I was approaching as she swivelled her chair around and faced me. She seemed genuinely surprised to see me there and if I didn’t know her better I would have sworn she was actually glad to see me.

  “Can I see you in my office please?” I asked her simply and turned to walk across the corridor towards my office. Molly followed and I could feel everyone's eyes on us. I expected they were hoping for some kind of showdown. Well... they would be sorely disappointed. I sat down in my chair, probably for
the last time. Molly took a seat in the chair opposite, the one she had sat in so many times in the past. Before I had a chance to get a word out she spoke first.

  “Don’t leave Jake, that’s the last thing I wanted!” she pleaded. Her sincerity tugged at my heart strings, just a little, but not enough. I studied her face. Did it have a look of satisfaction on it? To be honest I couldn’t see anything but remorse.

  “It’s nothing to do with you Molly,” I sighed. I rubbed my eyes as if wiping away all my emotion. “I didn’t know about Becky and I didn’t know Daniel had a son. I swear to you, Molly.” I met her eyes hoping she could see the sincerity in mine. She leant over the desk and took my hand gently, I let her caress my fingers.

  “Would it have made any difference if you did know?” she asked. I put my hand over hers and squeezed gently with both of mine. She smiled, waiting for my answer and for a moment, I was frozen, paralysed by her beauty. I broke that spell.

  “I would have made him tell you, Molly.” I let her hand slip out of mine as I stood up to leave. Molly stood up with me at the same time and I stepped forward to kiss her cheek softly and started to walk out the door.