The Affair_A gripping psychological thriller with a shocking twist
Page 11
DI Taylor’s expression was sympathetic. ‘It’s too soon to register her officially missing,’ he explained. ‘And then, the first thing we have to establish is the level of risk to the person who is missing. If she—’
‘My daughter!’ Justin’s voice rose. ‘The person missing is my daughter! Jesus!’ He banged the heel of his hand against his forehead. ‘She’s fifteen! Doesn’t that make her at risk? What the hell is wrong with you people? Why aren’t you out looking for her?’
Taylor looked regretfully to Alicia, before turning uncomfortably back to Justin. ‘We have your statement, Dr Cole,’ he said quietly. ‘We’re doing all we can for now.’
‘Which, as you’ve just pointed out, amounts to nothing,’ Justin said furiously.
Again, Taylor glanced away, plainly unable to meet his gaze. ‘She went of her own volition, according to Mrs Cole.’
Alicia nodded. There was no escaping the fact that Sophie had been driven out, her life shattered and her heart broken, by her own mother.
‘Which means what, exactly?’ Justin asked, his jaw tightening.
‘If a person goes missing voluntarily, then it’s generally an indicator of a problem in that person’s life,’ Taylor explained patiently. ‘And you’ve obviously been having a few problems…’
‘Obviously,’ Justin said, his tone now bitter with contempt. ‘Meaning, in your expert opinion, she’s classed as a low-risk case?’
‘For now, yes.’ Taylor nodded ruefully. ‘We have a list of her friends and acquaintances. I gather Mrs Cole has already contacted most of them, but we will contact them again and keep you posted if anything new comes up.’
‘Right. Such as my daughter being found raped or murdered?’ said Justin. Alicia’s stomach tightened like a slipknot.
Taylor glanced quickly in her direction. ‘We could use a recent photograph,’ he said, offering her a commiserating smile.
Nodding, Alicia swallowed back the jagged glass in her chest. ‘I have one in my bag,’ she said, fighting tears as she turned to the sofa to retrieve the photo she carried in her purse. She couldn’t cry. Though she wanted to curl up and weep like a child – for her children, for Justin, who once would have comforted her – now was not the time. Now, Justin would hate her as much as she’d known he’d once loved her – and it hurt. It hurt so very much.
Shoving his hands in his pockets, Justin watched as Taylor looked at the photo and then passed it to his colleague. ‘So, have you made any progress in regard to whoever murdered my son? Just wondering whether you’re even trying. You know, out of idle curiosity,’ he said, his tone scathing.
‘We don’t take the death of a child anything other than seriously, Dr Cole,’ Taylor assured him. ‘We’re following every lead, I can assure you. I’m afraid we don’t have much to go on, other than the colour and type of the car.’
‘A black Land Rover,’ Alicia said.
DI Taylor nodded, and then sighed. ‘Unfortunately, black Land Rover doesn’t really give us much to go on without at least part of the registration. And, as we have no witnesses to the road traffic accident, we’re—’
‘No witnesses?’ Justin almost choked.
‘No independent eye witnesses who can provide a description of the driver of the car,’ Taylor clarified. ‘We’ve appealed for people to come forward with any information, but without a clear identification or fingerprints, we can’t check the national database, which means we’re at a bit of a loss, I’m afraid.’
‘A loss?’ Justin stared at him, incredulous. ‘I don’t believe this! You mean the bastard is going to get away with it?’
‘What about CCTV footage?’ Alicia asked, feeling as desperate as Justin looked.
‘Not much use, I’m afraid.’ Glancing apologetically at her, Taylor shook his head. ‘We don’t have a clear image of the driver’s face and, unfortunately, the angle of the camera doesn’t show us the number plate. I’m sorry, Mrs Cole. I can’t give you any further information, as yet.’
He was going to get away with it. Nausea rose rancidly in Alicia’s chest. She looked at DI Taylor in disbelief, while Justin simply laughed, a short, derisive laugh, and then walked away. He stopped at the door. His frustration was tangible, his anger emanating from him. Breathing out, eventually, he reached to knead his forehead, and then, ‘Stuff it!’ he growled, slamming the heel of his hand hard into the lounge door.
‘Dr Cole,’ DI Taylor took a step towards him, a warning edge to his voice. ‘I realise how frustrated you must feel, but I’m not sure getting aggressive is going to help, is it?’
‘He’s upset.’ Alicia went to Justin, placing a hand on his arm.
‘Upset? Jesus!’ Justin pulled his arm away, looking at Taylor in bemusement. ‘You know what,’ he said, after a second, his expression somewhere between cynical and bitterly disappointed, ‘I think getting “aggressive” might just help, actually. Then again, maybe you’re right. I mean, my son being murdered and my daughter going missing is hardly worth getting upset about, is it? I tell you what, why don’t we go shopping instead, hey, Alicia?’ he suggested flatly. ‘Or maybe we could catch up with a few old “work colleagues” for a drink. What do you think?’
‘Justin!’ His words cutting her to the bone, Alicia called after him as he strode out, shaking his head at Jessica who was standing in the hall, looking alarmed.
I’m sorry! She wanted to scream, to break down right there, right then. But she didn’t deserve his forgiveness. She’d ripped his life apart, thrown everything he’d ever given her – his love, his commitment – right back in his face.
Desperate, feeling utterly anchorless without him, powerless to help him, she stayed where she was as Justin slammed through the front door.
Thirty
SOPHIE
‘Nice pad,’ Sophie said, glancing around the open-plan living area. It was a brand-new Central Plaza apartment, decorated in white and greys, with a hardwood floor, great globular chrome lights and a huge L-shaped leather sofa. It must have cost a bomb.
‘It is pretty cool, isn’t it?’ Paul said, closing the front door and nodding her on in. ‘It has a residents’ gymnasium, twenty-four-hour concierge service and a fantastic view over the city centre. Not mine, unfortunately. I’m flat-sitting for a friend.’
‘Ah. Nice friend,’ Sophie commented, her eyes boggling at the size of the flat-screen TV, which had to be seventy-five inches at least.
‘There are plenty of flats available though. Out of most people’s price range, I guess. The building’s still practically empty. I might buy one when I move back from Dubai.’ Paul followed her awestruck gaze thoughtfully. ‘With a bedroom decorated to your specifications, of course – assuming you’d like to stay over occasionally?’
‘Yeah, maybe,’ Sophie said, smiling in his direction.
Looking pleased, Paul smiled back. He really did seem all right. She’d been a bit worried when he’d suggested she crash at his – she’d never met him before, after all, and weird stuff happened – but she’d figured she was safe when he’d turned up with a bag of chips, looking like a nervous schoolkid. Handsome, but definitely nervous.
‘What do you fancy?’ he said, walking over to a table lined with so many bottles of booze that Sophie’s eyes boggled all over again.
‘Something seriously strong,’ she said, ‘but I’d better not. Mum and Dad would go ballistic.’ Realising what she’d said, Sophie dropped her gaze. She was missing home already. Missing Luke so much, she didn’t think her heart would ever stop hurting.
‘How about a small wine?’ Paul suggested. ‘I promise I won’t tell if you don’t.’
Sophie nodded, but kept her gaze fixed down.
‘Hey.’ Paul walked across to her, placing a hand on her shoulder as her eyes filled up. ‘It can’t be that bad, can it?’
Sophie sniffed hard and dragged a hand under her nose. ‘It’s my fault,’ she blurted. ‘What happened with Justin. It’s my fault.’ She hadn’t told Paul that Just
in had found out he wasn’t her dad – somehow she’d felt she would be betraying him – but she’d told him some of what had happened in the Bull Ring. ‘I shouldn’t have run. I should have at least gone back and told them it wasn’t what they were thinking. Do you think they might have called the police?’
‘I very much doubt it.’ Paul smiled reassuringly. ‘And, in any case, Justin’s an articulate man. He would have soon put them right.’
Sophie shrugged. ‘I suppose.’
Paul reached to ease her chin up. ‘I have no idea why you would think any of this is your fault, you know,’ he said gently, his smile now bemused. ‘The problem is your mother, not you.’
Gulping hard, Sophie nodded. He didn’t have the whole picture, but he was right. She’d done nothing wrong except be born. Lately, she’d been wishing that she hadn’t been.
‘Do you want me to drive you back home?’ Paul asked her, his brow furrowed with concern. ‘I don’t like the idea of you going off to your friend’s upset.’
Sophie scanned his eyes. Like hers, they were dark espresso-brown, sympathetic and kind. Justin’s eyes had always been kind. She couldn’t remember him once ever losing his rag. Why had her mum done it, strung him along for so many years? Sophie got that people had affairs, but she didn’t get why her mum would have built such an elaborate web of lies. She must have known it was bound to come tumbling down like a house of cards.
And why had she done it in the first place – not just lie, but have an affair at all? It wasn’t like they’d didn’t get on or had monumental rows or anything. They’d had their mental moments, but mostly they’d been solid, or so Sophie had thought. Justin definitely loved her mum. Sophie only had to think of the way he’d looked at her, that quiet smile in his eyes, to know that. Whenever her mum had been upset about a child at work who’d been abused in some way, he would go to her and massage her shoulders, kiss the side of her neck and hold her. Her mum always turned to him, buried her head on his shoulder and told him how much she loved him.
She was a kind person. That’s why she kept on doing the shit job she did, even though she said the traumatised kids, who had to live their reality while she was tucked safely up in her bed, haunted her dreams. What she’d done to Justin was plain cruel. It just wasn’t her. It was no wonder he’d been so shocked. Sophie’s mind went to him, and she tried not to hear the words he’d said about how he’d lost his son and his daughter. Whatever he was feeling, she knew he’d loved her too. She’d felt it. He could hardly love her now though, could he, the spawn of her mum’s affair with another man?
Sighing, Sophie shook her head. ‘No,’ she said, though she wished more than anything that she could go back, to a home that felt like a home, like it used to. But that place didn’t exist any more. Her baby brother was dead, her mother was a lying bitch, and Justin… After what she’d done to him at the shopping centre, Sophie doubted he’d ever want to set eyes on her again. ‘They’re going through shit,’ she said, still not wanting to divulge too much. ‘The house got broken into while we were at my little brother’s funeral.’ Trailing off, she shrugged and forced back her tears. There was no way to go home, as far as she could see. No home to go back to.
‘I’ll be okay.’ She smiled tremulously up at him.
Paul didn’t look convinced. ‘You really are going through it, aren’t you?’ He shook his head in commiseration. ‘Tell you what, how does a holiday sound? It might do you good to get away from everything for a while.’
Sophie gawked. ‘A holiday? Where?’
‘Wherever you’d like,’ Paul said, going back to pour the drinks. ‘Florida, maybe?’
‘Florida?’ Sophie’s eyes grew wide. Accepting the glass of white wine, she drank thirstily. ‘But… what about my passport?’ She knitted her brow. This was happening way too fast. ‘And clothes and stuff.’
‘Well, now Alicia knows we’re in touch…’ Paul took her glass and walked back to the table to top it up. ‘I’ll ask her about it. I’m thinking, under the circumstances, she might think it’s a good idea, a way of allowing you all some space.’
Sophie was happy to give them as much space as they needed – and then some. Still, she wasn’t sure. A holiday to Florida? Was he made of money? Yeah, she was his daughter, but he hardly even knew her. It sounded a bit too good to be true. As far as he knew, she could be a total brat.
‘And I’ll buy you some new clothes,’ Paul offered, causing Sophie to do a double take. ‘You won’t need much anyway, in that climate.’
Sophie searched his face, puzzled.
‘I can see you’re a bit cautious,’ Paul said, handing her back her glass. ‘I don’t blame you. You’re right to be. But I’d like to make up for some of the things I haven’t been able to do for you. Why don’t you ring her yourself, if you’re worried? Put your mind at rest.’
Sophie took another drink. ‘I suppose I could text her. I don’t really want to talk to her.’
Placing her glass on the coffee table, she dropped her bag on the floor and delved into it for her phone. And then, her heart skipping a beat, she delved deeper. ‘Shit,’ she muttered, dragging the contents out of it.
‘What’s wrong?’ Paul asked, watching as she searched.
‘It’s not here. My phone.’ Sophie swept her hair from her face. ‘Crap. I must have left it in the station.’
Paul sighed sympathetically. ‘Looks like there’s a new phone to add to that shopping list then.’
He obviously was made of money. Sophie didn’t turn down the offer. She already felt lost without her phone.
‘Do you want me to ring her?’ Paul asked, just as Sophie was debating whether to ask to use his phone. ‘It might save you some hassle if I speak to her.’
‘Would you mind?’ Sophie was actually grateful for the offer. Her mum would only text back, and then she’d be obliged to answer. She didn’t really want to get into dialogue of any sort right now. Wasn’t sure she would ever want to.
‘No problem. It’s probably a good idea to clear things with her before getting anything booked anyway. I have to go into town first thing tomorrow to see my bank manager. I was thinking of doing it then.’ He smiled and crouched to help her collect up her stuff. ‘Then, after everything’s booked and I’m out of my meeting, how about we head off somewhere for the day? The weather’s going to be mild, apparently. We might as well make the most of it.’
‘Like where?’ Sophie eyed him curiously.
‘Your choice. Somewhere fun,’ Paul suggested. ‘It might help take your mind off your problems.’
Sophie thought about it. ‘Blackpool,’ she said. ‘Maybe the theme park?’
‘Okay. Sounds good.’ Paul nodded, getting to his feet. ‘But you might have to hold my hand.’
Sophie frowned at him.
‘Scared of heights,’ Paul explained, shrugging embarrassedly.
Sophie smiled, feeling more at ease with a man who would admit to his vulnerabilities. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll look after you,’ she said, checking her jeans and jacket pockets for her phone, just in case, though she knew it wasn’t there. ‘But don’t you have work?’
‘I’m on leave,’ Paul said, offering her another reassuring smile. ‘And I’m more than happy to devote my time to getting to know you. Shall we check out where you’ll be sleeping?’ he asked, reaching to pick up her bag.
Thirty-One
ALICIA
Trembling from head to toe, Alicia stood under the freezing cold shower until her skin started to turn blue. It did nothing to numb the raw pain in her chest, the emptiness inside her where her babies had grown. A whole night she’d been gone. A whole night! Where was she?
Wiping away the tears, mingled with water, that were cascading down her face, she turned off the shower and climbed out, her body moving on autopilot; her mind on Sophie, imagining where she might be. In some dark, desolate place, as cold as she was? Her skin tinged blue? Wet and hungry, crying tears of anger and hurt, rather than fear and sha
me?
Please let her be safe. Clamping down hard on an image of her lying somewhere too lonely to contemplate, her body bruised and broken, Alicia clutched up a towel, pressed it hard to her face and suppressed a sob. She’d just heard someone pass on the landing. She hadn’t been sure whether it was Jess or Justin, but she didn’t want him to hear her. No doubt he’d think she deserved to cry on her own, but it would be another tug on his emotions, which were already in turmoil.
Staying where she was, she tried to think what to do, where to look. Sophie hadn’t been in contact with any of her friends, other than Chloe. After that – nothing. It was as if she’d disappeared off the face of the earth.
Please don’t let anything have happened to her.
Gulping hard, Alicia glanced upwards, praying that God might take pity on her for the sake of her daughter. Might Sophie call Justin, she wondered. If she couldn’t – wouldn’t – ring her, then surely, once she’d stopped to think, she would realise that Justin cared deeply. That whatever she’d done, he would never stop caring for her.
Contemplating sending her another text, her heart leapt into her mouth when her phone pinged on the shelf, echoing around the tiled walls of the bathroom. Not daring to hope, Alicia snatched it up and hastily read the message. And then reread it, her heart somersaulting in her chest.
I need to speak to you. I was going to call round, but I realise that might not be a good idea. I don’t want to cause any upset, Alicia, I promise you. I just want to do what’s best. Could we come to some arrangement perhaps?
Feeling her whole world shift, Alicia placed the phone back, staring at it as if it might bite her, and then scrambled, still damp, into her clothes. How had he got her number, she thought, as she pushed her feet into her flip-flops and squeaked open the bathroom door. She hadn’t… he must have taken it from her phone, she realised, anger tightening inside her, which he’d so magnanimously returned to her, completely careless of the fact that he was walking into Justin’s house uninvited. Squeezing her eyes closed, Alicia took a breath and hurried downstairs, moving silently so that Justin and Jessica, who were talking in the kitchen, didn’t hear her.