‘Karen had no right to say that, and you can tell her so from me, next time you have one of your cosy little chats in the canteen.’
David looked confused, then confusion gave way to a sneer. ‘She told you we worked together? Ha, I think you’re the one who needs to have a chat with your “best mate”. We met online. On a dating website.’
She’d only had two glasses of wine in the bar, but now Bea’s head was starting to pound, right behind her eyes. A dating website? ‘Karen has a boyfriend. She doesn’t use dating websites.’
‘I know, that’s what she told me when I contacted her. She said it was an old profile and that she wasn’t looking for anyone. But she had a friend who was and she gave me your number. Told me all about you, how you’ve been single for years. Told me to text you and make sure I told you Karen gave me your number.’
How dare she! Encouraging her to go on a date with someone she’d never even met; telling an absolute stranger she was desperate and a sure thing. And this guy was vile. Seriously, who took a train journey to meet someone just for sex? And didn’t even offer to buy them a bloody meal first!
There wasn’t much else she could say to David, but a whole lot more she wanted to say to Karen. Karen, whose perfect relationship was with a man who wasn’t even completely hers, calling her easy! The whole thing would be laughable if it weren’t so horrific.
‘I’m really sorry that there has been a misunderstanding, but I think it’s time I went home. Karen should never have said those things; she should never have set this up in the first place.’
David’s face darkened, his eyes narrowed and he stepped closer again, so close that Bea could smell stale smoke on his breath from his last cigarette.
‘You must be fucking joking. I came all this way to meet you. I paid eighty quid for a decent hotel room. You’re not going anywhere.’
Reaching out, he grabbed hold of her wrist before she had a chance to move backwards, and squeezed so tightly she thought it might break. ‘Let go of me or I’ll scream,’ she said, sounding more confident than she felt. Pain shot through her wrist as he pinned it to her side and twisted slightly, guiding her through the gate in the railings that led to the river, his mouth close to her ear.
‘You won’t scream.’ His voice reverberated through her head. ‘Because if anyone comes near us, I’ll tell them you came on to me and then cried rape. And it won’t be the first time, will it, Bea?’
Bea’s chest tightened at his words. There were only two people who knew about what had happened sixteen years ago, and they were her best friends. There was no way either of them would tell a complete stranger. Was there? Karen had already said more to this man than Bea ever would have imagined she would.
He yanked at her arm, dragging her down the bank to the riverside. It was deserted down there, but in the lights from the theatre on the other side of the river she could see his face, contorted by anger and set determinedly. He shoved her against the bank so hard it knocked the air from her lungs and grabbed at the hem of her dress.
They were perfectly visible from the other side of the river, but as Bea was fast learning, visible didn’t equate to safe any more. If someone saw them, would they realise she was in trouble? Or would she be just another slag giving a bloke a good time on a Friday night?
Like you always do, a voice in her head whispered. Karen’s voice. Haven’t you learned your lesson after what happened? What’s the difference between him and any of the other guys you’ve been with?
It isn’t like that, her own voice insisted back, the imaginary argument with her former best friend blocking out David’s hand on her thigh, his other hand trying to grope for her nipple through her dress. I know what I’ve said, I know the person I’ve pretended to be, but I’m not her. I’m scared and I’m broken.
Had this been what it was like last time? Had she lain there, eyes squeezed closed, and just prayed for it to be over quickly? She could smell cigarette smoke and dirt and freshly cut grass, and she knew in that instant that if it happened to her again, she would never recover. This time she wouldn’t come back.
63
It was frustrating, not being able to hear what they were saying, but from the way Bea was leaning closer to her date, her lips curving into a grin at whatever he was saying, it seemed to be off to a good start. I’d been more nervous than I imagined she was in the build-up to tonight. Up until now everything had been under my strict control, but not so any more. Anything could happen, and the thought of leaving things to chance had made my skin itch. It was why I was there, the danger of being caught insignificant against my need to claw back some control over the evening. I told you I’m not evil, you see. I was there every minute, watching. Waiting.
I only just looked up in time to see Bea and her date heading towards the door of the bar. Not wanting to follow them too closely, I hung back, watched them cross the road and head towards the river. Before long they were almost completely out of sight, and I had to walk quickly to catch up.
They stopped, deep in conversation, and I wished I’d found some way to record their conversation. I didn’t like not knowing what was being said without me in the middle to mediate. It seemed inevitable that they would discover the whole thing was a set-up, but that was okay; that was part of the plan.
He had hold of her arm now, dragging her down towards the river where they couldn’t be seen from the path. I looked around in despair, my heart thumping. No one had seen them – there was no one around to help her.
This was my chance. My opportunity to put everything right, to rescue Bea and be the hero. After all, wasn’t that what I’d always wanted?
Only I wasn’t going to get to her in time. It had been a stupid, risky plan; I’d become overconfident, spurred on by desperation and obsession, and now someone else was going to pay the price. Could I live with that?
I took a deep breath as I saw the couple approaching the embankment. Surely she would get help now? Ironic now that I was so concerned about that night, when what happened later was so much worse than anything I could have imagined.
64
Bea
It wasn’t bravery that made her do it. Afterwards, when the images were running through her head constantly like a film on a loop, she couldn’t explain that very second. She wanted to say that something snapped, but that wasn’t it, it wasn’t conscious. The only way she could remember it feeling was feral, primal. Fear merged with fury.
She screamed. His hand froze on the elastic waistband of the grotesquely inappropriate thong she had worn for their date.
‘You don’t want to do this,’ he snarled into her shoulder. She didn’t stop screaming, kicking her legs, trying to free herself from his bulk weighing her down. Her heels found hard ground and she shoved upwards, arching her back the way she’d seen Toby do when he was younger, resisting his mother putting him into his car seat.
She didn’t stop to think what would happen if no one was passing along the top of the bank, or if she had made him angry enough to simply knock her unconscious. He released her breast and shoved a hand to her mouth to stop her hysterics, but she bit down hard, causing him to cry out and sit back on his heels. ‘Bitch!’
Voices at the top of the bank got louder and relief coursed through her in waves as she saw two upside-down faces, a man and a woman, appear over the grass.
‘You okay, love?’ she heard the man shout down.
‘Help me! Please, help me!’
David scrabbled backwards. ‘She’s crazy. She’s fucking crazy! We came down here for some privacy and she just …’
She didn’t stop to hear what other lies he had to tell. With a new energy she threw herself to her knees and on to her feet, pulling at the grass to lift herself, then scrabbled up the bank, pushing past her rescuers on to the street.
You’re not safe yet, her own voice told her. He’s still there. Run.
It was like one of those dreams where you desperately need to escape from the bad guy bu
t your legs feel as though they’re made of concrete. The world wasn’t moving in slow motion; it just felt like she was. She didn’t even know where she was running to, but she could hear the blood pounding in her ears, a haunting rhythm: run, run, run.
The taxi rank was deserted – the night was young, and no one wanted to go home yet.
‘Taxi, please.’
The man behind the glass looked up at her shaking voice, took in her dishevelled appearance, the grass and mud caked on her new red dress, her hair sticking out like a crazed Medusa.
‘You all right, love?’
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak without crying. He looked like he wanted to say more, but he didn’t; just nodded. ‘Where to?’
Back in her flat with the door locked behind her, Bea finally felt safe. The taxi journey had been silent; she’d stared out of the window without actually noticing anything go by. Her chest was hollow and she could hear that her breath still hadn’t returned to normal. All at once, the reality of what had happened, and what could have happened, hit her like a glass of water to the face. Tripping up the stairs two at a time, she banged into the bathroom door and threw up violently in the bath until her throat was sore.
65
Eleanor
Surrounded by presents, Toby ripped the paper from his brand new iPad and grinned.
‘Thanks, Mum, thanks, Dad, it’s great! Can I set it up?’
Eleanor smiled, her heart aching at how genuinely thrilled her son was at the present she’d spent the last of her maternity savings on.
‘Not yet, sweetie, you’ve still got more presents to open yet. Oh, and the card from Auntie Karen! I left it upstairs.’
She took the stairs two at a time, too excited to miss even a minute of Toby’s happiest day in months. Ever since Noah had been born, he’d been sullen and moody, convinced he was being pushed aside in favour of the needy, screaming newborn. Today was all about him, and thankfully Noah had stayed quiet and content in his rocker so they could give their elder son all their attention. Adam had even got up early and made them a delicious cooked breakfast. Everything about the morning had been perfect, thanks to their ability to still function as a family unit despite how exhausted and run-down they all were.
Retrieving the card from the top of her wardrobe, she held it up to the light, wondering what was inside. Knowing Karen, something ridiculously thoughtful that cost the earth and that Toby would be delighted with.
Eleanor’s heart felt heavy when she thought of her friend. How could she bear to be with Michael knowing she was tearing a family apart? She had always thought of Karen as someone to look up to, the epitome of all that was good. Now that had been ruined by the lies she’d told them. Eleanor knew why she hadn’t been truthful with them: there was no way she would have accepted her friend’s relationship if she’d known that he had a wife and three kids at home, but at least she would have had a decision to make. This way, the last two years of their friendship she felt like Karen had been laughing at her and Bea’s stupidity, at how gullible they were. No wonder Karen had never pushed the issue of having children; men didn’t plan families with the other woman.
‘Here,’ she said, handing Toby the envelope. She might be livid at her friend, but she wouldn’t deny Toby his gift. He turned it over in his hands as if he could figure out what was inside by the weight of it. Then he put his thumb under the flap, tore it open and pulled the card out. On the front was a mock-up of a newspaper with a picture of Toby in the middle and the headline ‘Toby Whitney signs for Manchester United on his ninth birthday!’
‘Cool card,’ he grinned, opening it up and looking confused. ‘There’s nothing in it.’
‘That’s strange,’ Eleanor replied, thinking of Karen’s words when she’d handed her the card. There’s a little surprise in there for the birthday boy.
‘Just this letter.’ He frowned and started reading. When he hadn’t spoken for a minute and the frown hadn’t relaxed, Adam tried to peer around his arm, but the boy blocked him.
‘What does it say, Tobes? Is it a riddle? Maybe you’ve got to solve it to guess your present.’
Toby was still frowning, his mouth moving wordlessly as he read, struggling to make sense of what he was seeing.
‘I don’t know what it means, Dad. Is Auntie Karen tricking me?’
‘Give it here, Toby,’ Eleanor said suddenly, her voice sharp. The mood in the room had changed dramatically in the last few minutes. Toby’s face was screwed up and there was tension in his shoulders, and when she tried to take the card, he pulled it away. ‘I said give it to me.’
Toby stood up, knocking the iPad off the arm of the chair and on to the floor. ‘Why is she saying these things?’ he demanded, thrusting the card at Adam. ‘What does she mean? Is it supposed to be funny? I don’t get it.’
Eleanor watched as Adam scanned the words in the card, his jaw tightening with every line.
‘Toby, take your new things up to your room. Your mum and I need to talk.’
‘No! I want to know why Karen wrote that letter – is it true?’
‘Of course it’s not true.’ Adam handed the card to Eleanor, his face grey with shock. ‘I don’t know what kind of trick Auntie Karen is playing, but it’s not a very funny one and we’ll talk to her about it. Now please take your things upstairs and get ready to go. We’re off to Frankie and Benny’s for lunch.’
‘Oh yeah!’ Toby ran upstairs and Eleanor sat down on the sofa, opened the card and began to read what was written inside.
Dear Toby,
Happy birthday! I can’t believe how old you are now, and how grown up you’ve become over the last few years. I’m certain you’re old enough to understand what I have to tell you, which is why I’ve waited until now to say it.
Toby, your mum and dad love you very much, and what you’re about to read doesn’t change that fact. It doesn’t change the fact that your mum held your hand while you were sick into a bucket for three days when you were just four, or that she stayed awake the entire night because you could only sleep with your head on her knee and she wanted to keep an eye on your temperature. It doesn’t mean she is any less your mum than she’s always been. A mother is so much more than the person who gave birth to us – believe me, I should know.
But the truth is, Toby, Eleanor is not your biological mother. She didn’t give birth to you and she didn’t meet your dad until you were nearly two. Your real mother was not a nice person, and Eleanor became like a mum to you, looking after you and bringing you up as her own son. And I have loved you as if you were my own nephew, but all these years I’ve told your mum and dad that they should tell you the truth, that you have a right to know. Ask them now – see if they keep lying to you the way they have been all these years.
Please don’t hate your parents. They did the wrong thing but for the right reasons. They really do love you, it’s just a shame they couldn’t see the grown-up young man I can see and realise you deserve the truth.
Enjoy your birthday, Tobes. You are a man now and free to make your own choices.
Love always,
Auntie Karen
Silent tears rolled down Eleanor’s cheeks as she read. How could she? How dare she? She knew Karen had never approved of them lying to Toby, but how could she feel it was her place to tell him the truth?
‘There has to be a mistake – Karen would not do this to us.’
Adam rubbed his hands over his face as though trying to erase what he had just seen.
‘Wouldn’t she? So she hasn’t been going on at you to tell Toby the truth since he was three?’
‘Well yes, but …’ She didn’t know what to say. How could she defend Karen when what Adam was saying was true? Karen had handed her the card herself; it had been in the top of the wardrobe ever since. Some of it was even things Karen had said to Eleanor herself. There wasn’t really any doubt, the only question was why. She’d given Eleanor the card a week before the confrontation about Michael – and
even if this had been about that, why involve Toby? It definitely wasn’t like Karen to be so underhand.
‘I’m going to ring her.’ She picked her mobile phone up off the sofa, but Adam took it out of her hand and placed it on the TV stand next to him.
‘Not now you’re not. We’re going to get dressed, and then we’re going to take our son shopping and out to lunch. And we’re going to hope he doesn’t believe a word that poisonous bitch said.’
Eleanor was taken aback at his hostility, but how could she argue? What Karen had done to their family … it was unforgivable.
‘And Toby? When are we going to tell him the truth, Adam? Don’t you think this is the ideal time, now it’s already out there?’
The living room door opened and Toby stood in the doorway. ‘She’s right, Dad. You need to tell me the truth.’
66
Bea
‘Bea, it’s me.’
Bea laughed. ‘Of course it’s you, Fran. No one ever phones my house phone. It’s either you or that woman who keeps ringing to ask if I’ve had an accident in the car I don’t own and can’t drive.’
‘Free calls to landlines. Anyway, I didn’t ring to debate my choice of phone; I’m calling to tell you I’m doing dinner for Mum’s birthday. Friday night at six – are you coming?’
‘Chinese or Indian?’
Before I Let You In Page 22
