by Jo Jakeman
‘Set me up nicely, haven’t you?’ he said, pushing my arm away from him in disgust.
‘You brought it on yourself.’
He laughed. A volley of nasal coughs.
‘You hung up before I could tell you the truth about your little accident.’
I dipped my head, but kept my eyes fixed on the knife in his hand. He was waving it up and down like he was assessing its weight.
‘You’ve still got time to get to the hearing,’ I said. ‘Surely this can wait.’
‘Not so quick. Not so quick. Somewhere else you’ve got to be?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘Nowhere.’
My eyes travelled from the knife to his face. He was looking over the horizon again, in the direction of our house. Eyes narrowing, to keep the thoughts from spilling out. The skin under his chin quivered. It was slack and grey and belonged to a man much older than him.
‘I know who was driving the car that night,’ he said.
‘So, go to the police,’ I said. ‘There’s nothing I can do about it now, is there?’
‘But you want to know, don’t you? You’ve always wondered why it happened to you. Were they drunk? Was it an accident? Would you recognise them? Were they aware of what they’d done? Remember, I understand you, Imogen. There isn’t a thought in your head that I don’t know about.’
‘Tell me or don’t tell me,’ I said. ‘I don’t really care.’ I tried to sound casual, but it was true. I really didn’t want to know.
He sucked in a sharp breath over his teeth. ‘You know I hate it when you lie to me. You’re going to make me angry, Imogen. Don’t do that.’
The side of his little finger touched my leg. I could feel his icy skin through the denim. I flinched away from him, but he grabbed my thigh. His fingers dug into my flesh and I tensed as he leaned towards me.
‘Where’s Alistair?’ he asked.
‘I’ll never tell you.’
He put his arm around my shoulder and clamped me to him. He raised the knife to my face. I tried to lean away, but his hand pushed my head into his shoulder and brought the blade to my eye. I blinked and felt my eyelashes graze the sharp edge.
‘Where’s my son?’ he asked.
‘Where you won’t find him.’
He stood and pulled me up with him. He grabbed my hand and, with his hand clenched around my thumb, started to bend it back. I yelped with pain. There was no longer any point in pretending it didn’t hurt. Phillip was an expert in disabling people, in causing the maximum pain for the slightest effort. I had police training to thank for that. My knees started to buckle as I bent away from the force.
He shoved me with such strength that I fell to the ground. I rolled as I hit it and spun away from him. I grabbed at a thin branch and brandished it in front of me. He laughed loudly, throwing his head back.
‘Don’t make me laugh,’ he said. ‘Never played rock, paper, scissors? Knife beats twig any day.’
He put his head to one side, like he was considering something. I noticed that he was glancing behind me, over the horizon again.
‘What are you looking at?’ I asked.
He rolled his shoulders like he was releasing tension and smiled at me, ignoring the question.
‘So, what now?’ he asked. ‘You throw me to the dogs and then carry on with your life? Happily ever after? Do you think I don’t know that you three witches are planning something? You’re in cloud-cuckoo land if you think I’m going to let that happen.’
‘I don’t have any plans. I guess I’m just hoping that we both get what we deserve.’
‘You will,’ he said.
I moved to my right and Phillip moved with me. We were facing-off four feet away from each other. He could have the knife at my neck in seconds. He was letting the knife drop slightly, his mind preoccupied. I adjusted my grip on the branch.
‘Don’t you have any regrets?’ I asked.
‘Oh, plenty. I shouldn’t have married you. Should never have divorced Ruby. But, otherwise, can’t say I’d do anything differently. You?’
‘I don’t know. I can’t say I wish I hadn’t met you. Because without you I wouldn’t have Alistair. I feel like everything was necessary to lead us to this moment. Don’t you? Even losing the baby. Everything. It was all … I guess it had to happen.’ I took a deep breath. ‘You know it was here that Iris died, don’t you? That’s why I come here.’
‘For God’s sake, Imogen. She never existed.’
‘She did to me.’
Phillip scratched the back of his head, with the knife still in his hand. The wind played with the branches of the trees than lined the field. It ruffled my hair and blew the past away. Phillip wasn’t someone to be feared, he was only a man. A weak, damaged and empty man. I blinked and took a deep breath.
I no longer felt afraid. He had tracked me down to tell me about the accident, because I didn’t want to know. He hated that. It was Phillip who was desperate, not me. He was impatient to regain control, for a vestige of the power he used to have over me. His weakness for control was making him reckless.
I stood straight and took a step closer to the hedge.
‘You don’t want to hurt me,’ I said.
‘Don’t I?’
‘Phillip, you can still walk away from this. If you don’t, you’ll only make it worse for yourself.’
I took another half step along the fence. He was looking away from me. Again, at the horizon. Again, in the direction of our house. He turned to me suddenly.
‘I hope you’ve enjoyed playing your little game, thinking that you had authority over me, because you’re nothing now. You’re mine. You do what I say, when I say it.’
Now that his attention had flipped back to me, I could feel his anger start to build again. Specks of rain dotted my face and I wiped my hair out of my eyes. Phillip’s grip tightened on the knife and his eyes grew hard. I took another couple of steps. Closer to him, but also closer to the gap in the hedge. If I could get there without him stopping me …
‘I was there,’ he said.
He held my gaze, a malevolent look on his face.
‘Where?’
‘I was there. Here.’ He gestured with his knife to the bench and my discarded bag. ‘I saw it all.’
‘I don’t believe you,’ I said, without conviction, wondering what kind of reaction he was hoping to get from me.
‘Yes, you do.’
‘Don’t do this.’ I readjusted my grip on the tree branch and straightened up. The wind was gusting about us and throwing the rain like spears into my cheeks. Could he have seen Ruby mow me down and done nothing about it? My mind was racing, but getting nowhere.
‘I left you at home,’ I said.
‘I followed you. In the car.’
Phillip’s sneer slipped from his face. He lowered the blade. It was me and him now. No games.
‘What are you saying?’
‘Haven’t you worked it out yet? I was driving the car.’
I didn’t want to believe it was true. It was hard enough to contemplate Ruby driving the car, but to believe my own husband could have been responsible was more than I could take.
‘Don’t,’ I muttered. ‘Just. Don’t.’
‘All this time, Immie, and you never wondered? Never questioned why we’d got a different car by the time you came out of hospital? Never wondered why no one had ever been caught? Come on. Not even you could be that blind. Could you? But then you’ve always been one to ignore the signs if they don’t suit.’
‘Stop it.’ I wanted to shut his mouth for him in that moment. I never wanted to hear his voice again. The wind was loud in the trees. I concentrated on the rustling instead of Phillip’s words.
‘You’d stormed off,’ Phillip said.
‘No. No. Don’t …’ I clenched my free hand, causing my nails to dig into my palms. I didn’t want to hear what he had to say.
‘You were halfway along Long Eggington Road when I saw you. On your way to God-knows-where.’
I took another step. I was level with him now. Next time he glanced away at the horizon I would make a run for it.
‘Stop it, Phillip.’
‘Stop what? The truth?Your face, though,’ he said. ‘I thought you’d seen me. You seemed to look me straight in the eye as I hit you.’
The wind died down. Cars were suddenly absent from the road. It could have been only me and Phillip in the world at that moment. Birds paused in their flight and gave up their morning call. His face showed no remorse. He pushed his free hand into his pocket. Casual. Like he hadn’t been the person to shatter my life.
‘But you … you were upset too,’ I said.
‘Of course I was. I hadn’t set out with the intention of running you down. It nearly broke my heart, what you made me do.’
Being let down by Phillip wasn’t a new sensation for me, but this betrayal was spectacular. How could I have been so blind? He wasn’t protecting Ruby, he was protecting himself. We had a new car by the time I came out of hospital and I had been stupid enough to think he was being considerate.
A car sped by and noise flooded back into the world again. A dozen birds scattered from the trees and flecked the sky. A distant siren wailed, low and long. I was conscious of my own shallow breaths and the quickening of my heart. There was the familiar feeling of a vice around my head and the world narrowing around me.
I would not pass out.
I would not hide.
I stood as tall as was possible and pushed back my shoulders.
‘Is this is a game to you?’
‘Oh, it’s a game all right. The endgame. It’s the final card up my sleeve.’ He took a step towards me and I stood my ground. Let him come. He looked to the horizon again, smiling, and I launched myself at his face.
‘You killed our baby!’ I pulled back the branch, intending to hit him with it, but it was too long and unwieldy. Phillip grabbed it and wrenched it out of my hand.
I scratched at his eyes and he crossed his hands in front of his face, too busy protecting himself to use the knife. He pushed me away and staggered backwards, losing balance and falling. The knife skittered along the grass and I ran to pick it up.
‘You killed her!’ I swivelled and kicked him in the stomach. Eight years of pain. Eight years that I could have had with our daughter, and he’d taken it away from me. Every one of those years gave me a strength I didn’t know I possessed. As Phillip bent over with the pain of the kick, I bent low and charged at him. My shoulder caught him on the chest as he began to straighten. His eyes flew wide as he launched through the air, his feet leaving the ground.
He grunted as he hit the dirt and squeezed his lips together like he had tasted something unpleasant.
‘Her death was collateral damage. It was you I wanted to punish,’ he said.
I walked round in a circle, pulling at my hair. I couldn’t believe it, and yet, I could. I turned to look at him and doubled over, feeling that I might vomit, or scream, or both. My face was hot and I had spittle on my chin. I fell to all fours. The rain was falling heavier now and my clothes were sticking to me.
‘Christ, Phillip. Why would you do that?’
‘You wouldn’t understand,’ he said quietly. ‘I’d had a bad day. Had to break it to some kids that their parents had died. You were full of “baby” this and “baby” that. I wanted to come home to a nice meal and a supportive wife. I needed you, and you just walked off into the night. When you took so long, I drove by the chip shop, but you weren’t there. I found you a mile away, like you hadn’t a care in the world.’
I looked at the knife in my hand and then looked at his throat. Wondered about ending it for good. Ending him.
‘You did this because you felt sorry for yourself? You’re pathetic. Thank God I’m not like you,’ I said.
‘More’s the pity.’
‘No, Phillip. It would be so easy to hurt you right now, but I have a future ahead of me. I still have my son. I have friends. I have family. What the hell do you have? Nothing. Nothing. And it’s all your own doing.’
I struggled to get back to my feet. Phillip was sitting up with one arm across his stomach. His face was twisted in a snarl.
‘You don’t scare me, Phillip. You’re a weak, useless man and you will die alone. You can’t control anyone any more. You have no power. All of your secrets are out. Everyone will know what you are like. Ruby and Naomi will be giving their statements right now. Mother has already spoken to one of your colleagues about your threats about my father.’
‘What threats?’ he wheezed. ‘She jumped to the conclusion. I didn’t put the thought in her mind.’
‘Was there even any truth to it?’ I asked.
‘Maybe. Maybe not. I can’t vouch for what he was thinking when he took that girl.’ Phillip pushed himself into a crouching position, wincing at the pain. ‘Couldn’t find anything to link him with any other cases. He might’ve topped himself because of thoughts he was having, or because he couldn’t stand being accused, or to get away from the constant bloody nagging. How the hell would I know? But your mother believed the worst of him. What does that tell you about her, eh?’
Phillip had caused so much hurt, but he would only affect me from now on if I let him.
‘Your carefully built reputation is unravelling, Phillip. I’ll try and keep Alistair from seeing the news, but when he’s old enough to know the truth, it’ll all be there for him to see. He’ll know what kind of a man his dad really is.’
I picked up my bag and slung it across my chest. I still had the knife in my hand. I felt liberated by the truth. No matter what he did to me now, he couldn’t win. Phillip stood up slowly, eyes full of hate.
‘And here’s something else you should know,’ I said. ‘I forgive you.’
‘I don’t want your forgiveness,’ he said with his eyes on the knife.
‘I don’t care. I forgive you because that’s the kind of person I am. Not because of the person you are. I won’t be someone who holds grudges, someone who lets the past hold her back. Not any more.’
Something in the air caused me to sniff. There was the unmistakable smell of smoke. The siren was louder and had changed pitch. Rolling black clouds were hanging low on the horizon in the distance. It was my house. And it was on fire.
‘You haven’t! For God’s sake, Phillip! That’s what you’ve been looking for? What do you think you’ve achieved?’
I drew my arm back with the knife in it and threw it as far as I could beyond the trees.
I gave him a slow clap. ‘Well done, you. You’ve managed to get rid of any evidence you were ever locked up in there. Saved me a job.’ I raised my hand in resignation. ‘We’re done.’
I kept my eyes on him as I turned and moved quickly towards the gap in the hedge. I tripped over the rutted earth, but somehow stayed upright. I fell into the bushes and felt sharp twigs tear the flesh on my hands, in my haste to be away from him. There was a car coming, but I stumbled into the road before I registered its approach. Its horn blared at me as I reached the other side. Phillip was close on my heel. I could hear him grunting.
My mind was whirling. Looking wildly at the cars, I wondered about flagging one down, asking for help, but then it struck me that I didn’t have to run any more. There was nothing to run from. The sirens were getting louder. Called, no doubt, by a well-meaning neighbour to attend my burning house.
I turned to face Phillip. He was opposite me, watching the traffic, waiting for a gap. Standing just where I had been, when he had mown me down that night eight years ago. The rain ceased abruptly, like a tap had been turned off. Clouds skittered away, taking the drizzle elsewhere.
The early-morning school run had added to the steady stream of commuter cars moving by us at speed. Phillip was balanced on his front foot, ready to dart through the traffic and chase me down. I watched him with an intensity that made h
im look back at me. He was panting from the exertion of his brief run. I had nothing to fear from this man.
I had done enough running. Across the road, Phillip straightened up and squared his shoulders. I could feel the push of the cars as the displaced air lifted my coat and my hair.
He looked at me and I felt the force of his hate like a solid iron bar. Neither of us moved and we barely blinked. I gently shook my head and gave a slow smile.
It’s over.
I looked away. I didn’t fear him. I began to walk and didn’t turn when he called my name.
‘Imogen! Don’t you dare walk away from me. Look at me!’ he shouted.
I walked in the direction of the house, where Tristan would pick me up to take me to the police station. I’d be safe there, with the firemen and the kindly neighbours. I pushed my hands into my pockets like I didn’t have a care in the world and, for that split second, I didn’t.
The screech of tyres. The blare of horns. I faltered in my step and, despite myself, turned.
A car was spinning sideways, another was mounting the kerb closest to me. Phillip’s face was suspended too far above the ground. A gust of wind pushed hair over my eyes and I swept it aside, stunned at the scene in front of me. The smell of burning rubber mixed with the smoke-heavy air. There was a pause; a vacuum where sound was lost and feelings couldn’t travel. I was watching a macabre drama being played out by a familiar actor. A contorted face over-playing his part.
I could see everything in that moment. The fire engine turning the air red and blue rounding the corner; the black four-by-fours and the family estates; the old white van with the faded lettering on its side, showing a dialling code no longer in use; the line of geese making a victory sign overhead. And Phillip.
He was hanging mid-air, limbs flung outwards, comical almost.
Look at me, he’d shouted.
And I did.
The sound of crushing metal and the thud of body on bumper refocused the act and everything sped up before me. Phillip was thrown up and backwards. He dangled in the air for a long moment, his mouth gaping, but his eyes were clenched. His head snapped back and he fell from sight. Someone screamed.
