You and I have no future, we’re finished. And if there’s any chance of me being happy in the last third of my life (assuming I don’t keel over from stress), I’m going to grab it.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Christine
Now
Greg’s been gone three days now, and in all that time I haven’t left the house. Not even to exercise or get some fresh air. My home feels toxic with all the lies and deceit, but it’s only right that I choke on its fumes after the hurt I’ve caused.
I’ve tried searching for Julia on the internet, but without success. She must be retired, and probably ex-directory. I’m not sure why I thought I’d be able to find her alone. Maybe that was just me talking big in the heat of the moment, trying to prove to Greg how sorry I am, how I’m prepared to do everything in my power to make things right and find out who’s behind the note and the email. But realistically speaking, it looks like I’ll have to bring the police in after all – unless I hire a private investigator, of course, but that seems unnecessary when it would be just as easy to get DI Phillips on the case. It does mean I’ll have to tell him about my affair, though. Julia is bound to mention it if he turns up on her doorstep asking if she had anything to do with your disappearance.
Christ, what a mess I’ve got myself into. I feel so tired, and I just wish it would all go away.
It’s 9 p.m. and Janine’s coming over any minute. As far as I’m aware, she still doesn’t know about my affair, or that Greg’s left me, but I am going to have to tell her something; word’s bound to reach her sooner or later.
The main reason I called her was for company. If I don’t talk to someone, I fear I’ll do something stupid. Or maybe it won’t be stupid? If it wasn’t for that shred of hope that you might still be alive, I wonder whether downing a bottle of pills and going to sleep forever might be the best solution to everyone’s problems? Greg hates me, my children hate me, and I hate me. So what’s the point? Janine is the only one who doesn’t hate me. But like them, she’s too good for me. Always has been. And as for Miranda – after what Greg said – I feel like our friendship’s been a lie all along. I so want to call and have it out with her for trying to poison Greg’s mind against me; tell her how her perfect man’s been screwing a woman half his age. But I don’t. I mean, what good would it do? Give me a brief sense of triumph, allow me to score some petty victory before I’d go back to feeling as worthless as before?
I haven’t made another appointment with Dr Cousins. I just can’t bring myself to, despite wanting some of those pills she prescribed for Janine. Truth is, although I’m still cross with her for breaking up with Daniel and making out that I couldn’t deal with them being in a relationship while I was her patient, I’m more cross with myself. I told her about my affair, and so it’s my fault they’re no longer together. How, then, can I possibly continue to see her when my son remains heartbroken and miserable? It would be unforgivably selfish of me – even though a part of me wants to talk to her face-to-face, ask her if there’s any chance she might reconsider her decision and get back with Daniel.
The doorbell rings and, thinking it’s Janine, I move the fastest I’ve moved in three days. But it isn’t Janine. There’s no one there. Just a package lying on the doormat. I step outside, and the porch light automatically comes on. I look left and right, but there’s no sign of anyone. I’m frightened, and I don’t linger a second longer, just pick up the brown Jiffy bag and close the door behind me.
I take it through to the kitchen, place it on the table and stare at it for a moment or two. It’s blank, no address or markings on it, and whatever’s inside is soft and light.
Satisfied it’s not a bomb, curiosity gets the better of me and I tear open the package, before pulling the contents out. When I realize what it is I can barely breathe, and I blink three times just to make sure my eyes aren’t deceiving me.
Your butterfly dress from the day you disappeared.
Chapter Fifty
Greg
Now
‘Sorry I’m late, Dad, bloody signal failure. Christ, you look like shit.’
Our daughter comes bounding up to the table, slightly out of breath, yet full of youthful exuberance and the kind of energy I can only dream of. It’s just turned 9.30 and she’s half an hour late for our dinner at a restaurant near my hotel. Luckily, the restaurant’s not busy, so I’ve passed the time with two beers and by checking the BBC sports pages. Distraction in any form is what I need right now. Amber still isn’t picking up my messages, and although I can’t bear to think about it, I fear it’s over between us, and my dreams of a future with her are swiftly evaporating. I feel like I’m losing my grip on things, and the only thing that’s keeping my head above water is the need to be around for our children.
I’m hardly sleeping and I’m drinking too much. It’s killing me not knowing who you had an affair with, Chrissy, but I realize I can’t force you to tell me. It does make me think that it must be someone I know, though, otherwise you’d have nothing to lose by telling me. Unless, that is, you think I plan on confronting the bastard (to be honest, I’m too old for fist fights), who, incidentally, must be alive, otherwise why wouldn’t you tell me his identity? It makes no sense for you to keep quiet about a dead man.
All things considered, it’s no wonder Ella tells me I look like shit, because she’s right, I do, and I feel about ninety.
She looks well, though, I’m pleased to say. Whoever she’s dating, he clearly makes her happy, and I’m pleased for her. At least one person in our family appears to have got her life on track. Although the cynical side of me worries that something bad is lurking around the corner for her, just because our family seems to be jinxed.
Ella orders a white wine, then quickly scans the menu before the waiter comes to take our food order. Once he’s gone, she places her elbows on the table, leans forward and asks bluntly, ‘So what the hell did Mum tell Dan’s fiancée to make her dump him?’
I didn’t expect her to be so direct, and I find myself caught on the back foot. I can literally feel my face burning and imagine that it has turned scarlet, a sure sign that I know something. Unlike Dan, who can be a bit slow on the uptake, Ella’s very perceptive. Nothing gets past her.
‘Dad?’ she persists.
I reach for my beer, which unfortunately is nearly empty, and waste a bit of time by taking a drawn-out sip. There’s no point in beating about the bush, I guess, it will come out eventually. But so will other stuff, because Ella will ask me what made you confess to your affair after all this time, and I shall have to tell her about the note and the email, and the possibility that Heidi is still alive out there somewhere.
Ella doesn’t take her eyes off me as I lean in and say in a low voice, ‘She admitted to having an affair.’
Our daughter doesn’t move a muscle or even look that surprised. ‘Right. When?’ Her tone is matter-of-fact.
‘A long time ago. Before we were married.’
‘And did the affair continue after you were married?’
I swallow hard, feeling ashamed, even though I shouldn’t because you’re the one who’s to blame here. It’s a male pride thing, I suppose. ‘Yes. It carried on after we had Heidi, and it seems your mother was on the phone to her lover when Heidi was taken. She’s admitted to getting distracted by his call and wandering away from Heidi while she was talking.’
Now Ella looks horrified. ‘How could she? How could she have kept something so huge from us? Who was he?’
I shake my head. ‘I don’t know, she won’t say.’
‘Why?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘That’s a bit sus, isn’t it? It must be someone you know.’
‘Yes, that occurred to me too. And he must still be alive, else why wouldn’t she tell me his identity? Makes no sense.’
‘Not necessarily. You must make her tell you, Dad.’
‘I can’t. I can’t make her do anything.’
Ella takes a swig of w
ine, her expression one of disgust. ‘I hate her even more now. Didn’t think that was possible, but I do. She’s so bloody selfish. No wonder she’s been such a misery all these years. She’s swimming in guilt. Well, I’m glad she’s miserable; anything else is too good for her.’
Like Ella, I now realize why – unlike me, and despite so much time having passed – you’ve not been able to get on with your life since Heidi’s disappearance. It’s not just a mother’s grief for her missing child; it’s because you know what you did at the time was wrong, and so your addiction to exercise and near starvation, not to mention keeping your family at a distance, is a form of self-punishment.
But in doing this, you’ve hurt others. You were selfish before Heidi was taken, but just as selfish after. Don’t you see that?
Still, I’m shocked by Ella’s tone. Only now does it dawn on me: the scale of her contempt for you. ‘Do you hate her that much?’ I ask. ‘I know she wasn’t the best mother, but she always took care of you.’
‘The way a childminder takes care of her charges, yes,’ she retorts, as if prepped for my remark. ‘But I didn’t need her for that. Children need their parents’ love. Parents who’ll hug and kiss them good night, soothe them when they have a bad dream or get made fun of at school. She never did any of those things; she simply didn’t want to know. She’d tell me to stop being silly, toughen up, go to sleep. What kind of mother does that? I’ll tell you, Dad. A cold, hard-hearted one. So why should I feel sorry for her now? And why should I love her? She did nothing to win my love.’
I’m not sure I’ve ever heard Ella talk like this. For so long she’s projected this tough, street-smart image, but that’s all stripped bare now.
My eyes well up, and I am heartbroken by our daughter’s words. She goes on.
‘And she was the same with Dan. No wonder he’s so selfish, so fucked up. He’s more like her than he realizes.’
‘You think?’
‘Yep. He only ever phones me when he wants something. He’s always been completely self-absorbed. He never gave his little sister the time of day when she needed a shoulder to cry on, some brotherly advice. Like Mum, he didn’t want to know.’
‘You could have come to me, Ella.’ I look at our daughter earnestly. I love her so much, and it kills me that she felt so alone during her childhood. I feel like such a failure.
‘You were hardly ever around, Dad,’ she says, her tone softer, almost apologetic. ‘You were always at the office. Don’t get me wrong, you were a good dad, the best you could be under the circumstances, and I don’t blame you for how things were. Now that I’m an adult, I realize that throwing yourself into your work was your way of dealing with your grief and Mum’s behaviour. But if Mum had let you in more, been more affectionate, I don’t think you’d have stayed away as much. She made our home life suffocating for us all, and you needed a release from that. I get that, Dad.’
She’s spot on. You made our home so joyless, the office was an escape. More recently, Amber has been my escape. Even so, now Ella has told me how alone she felt growing up, I feel like a coward for doing whatever made my life easier at the time. After all, parents are supposed to make sacrifices for their kids, no matter how tough that makes things for them. I wonder, do I tell Ella about Amber, now that you and I have come clean to each other? How can I possibly keep my affair from our daughter, now that she knows about yours?
‘So is Dan going to speak to Mum?’ I ask.
‘He doesn’t want to see her, he’s too mad. Can you blame him?’
‘No, I can’t. Although…’
‘What?’
‘Well, something niggles me. I mean, if Freya was in love with Dan, ready to marry him, how could she have called off their engagement so quickly? It’s a very harsh, impulsive reaction, don’t you think? One minute they’re engaged, the next she calls it off because of your mother’s confession, despite having assured them both that she’d be able to keep her personal and professional lives separate. I mean, it’s not like Dan’s the one who had an affair.’
The waiter arrives with our mains, and we wait for him to place them down and disappear before continuing the conversation.
‘Maybe,’ Ella says, picking up her cutlery, ‘but Mum confessing to an affair is still pretty huge.’
‘Yes, but it’s not insurmountable. I don’t know, it just seems a bit hasty to me. And to not even tell Daniel face-to-face, I find that rather odd. Don’t get me wrong, I’m unbelievably angry with your mother right now, she’s hurt me more than I could ever imagine, but I could tell she was genuinely horrified by Freya’s decision and that, given the chance, she’d stop seeing her as a patient if it meant Dan and Freya could get back together.’
Ella takes a bite of her steak. ‘Hmm, I’m not so sure. Your problem, Dad, is that you’re too nice. Miranda always says that. She says you always see the best in people, which is quite unusual for a lawyer.’
I smile to myself. Good old Miranda. I really missed a trick there. Ella appears to read my thoughts. ‘Miranda would have been a good wife to you, Dad.’
I smile. A smile as if to say I know.
‘I reckon she has her secrets though.’
I cock my head, my interest piqued. ‘How do you mean?’
‘Well, in all the years I’ve known her, I don’t think Duncan’s ever been down to visit with her. There was always some excuse that he was off on some business trip or boys’ weekend. And it was never a convenient time for us to visit them. Like she was consciously hiding something from us.’
Ella’s right. I’ve had the same thoughts. But Duncan and I never bonded, so it wasn’t like his absence bothered me. Even so, I must pin Miranda down on that one day.
‘Anyway, probably nothing in it,’ Ella says. She pauses, then gives me a puzzled look.
‘What is it?’ I ask.
‘What I don’t get is why Mum owned up now. Did something happen to trigger her confession?’
As I expected, Ella’s mind is one step ahead. She never takes things at face value; she’s naturally suspicious, like her lawyer parents. I’ve not got the go-ahead from you to tell our children about the note and the email, but sod it, I don’t need your permission. You lost that right when you admitted to cheating on me.
I tell Ella about both. Again, she doesn’t look that surprised. Perhaps it’s got to the point where nothing surprises her any more.
‘So there’s someone else out there who knows about the affair? Someone who may or may not be my sister’s kidnapper?’
‘Yes.’
‘Any idea who?’
I tell Ella about Julia Keel.
‘And Mum’s going to try and find this woman?’
‘Yes, apparently. Although I’m not sure how.’
‘Should I tell Dan all this?’
‘Do you think it will help?’
‘At least it’ll give him more context.’
‘Yes, OK, good point. You speak to him. Let me know how it goes.’
Ella nods. ‘Of course.’
There’s a lull in the conversation as we focus on our food, but soon I reach the point where I can’t hold it in any longer.
‘Ella?’
‘Yes, Dad?’
‘I’ve been seeing someone.’
She stops short, mid-chew, then grins. ‘Really?’ There’s a twinkle in her eye, almost like she’s pleased for me, and I immediately relax.
‘Yes.’
‘Since when?’
‘Oh, it’s been going on for about six months now. I didn’t set out for it to happen, just sort of stumbled into it.’ I don’t look our daughter in the eye as I say this. It feels weird, embarrassing, talking to her about my mistress. Still, I’m relieved she doesn’t seem angry.
‘Where’d you meet?’
‘In a bar.’ God, it sounds so clichéd, said out loud. You were right about that.
Ella grins again. ‘Original, Dad. Your age? Younger? Older?’
‘Younger,’ I say, almo
st in a whisper.
Ella stares at me intently. ‘How much younger?’
‘A fair bit younger,’ I mumble. My cheeks are burning now.
‘My age?’
‘A bit older. Twenty-six.’
Now she’s grinning broadly. ‘Dad! You sly old fox.’
I should be happy she’s taking it so well, as opposed to being sickened by the fact that her fifty-seven-year-old father is sleeping with someone young enough to be his daughter. But I actually find her reaction a little disturbing. Abnormal, even. ‘Aren’t you cross?’ I ask.
She frowns. ‘Cross? Why should I be cross? I’m stoked for you, Dad. Jesus, one thing we should all have learned from Heidi’s kidnapping is that life’s bloody cruel. If you find happiness, I say hold on to it, make the most of it. I certainly plan to live by that motto.’
‘Even though your mother and I are still married?’
‘Dad, all that joins you two is a piece of paper. She’s made you miserable for years. Isn’t that why you strayed in the first place? Because I’m certain you’re not the philandering type. She pushed you to the limit, and you’ve earned a bit of happiness. And now you know she had an affair herself, why should you be sorry? Does she know, by the way?’
‘About Amber?’ Christ, I hadn’t meant to blurt her name out.
‘Amber, eh? Sounds exotic.’
‘Yes, she does. Janine saw us in a coffee shop together.’
Ella’s eyes widen. ‘Shock horror, coffee! Saucy stuff.’
‘We were holding hands,’ I explain.
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