The Affair_A gripping psychological thriller with a shocking twist
Page 14
‘I thought you were coming down with something.’ Her eyes shut tight, Sophie heard him as he swept her up into his arms and carried her towards the bedroom. ‘You probably have a vitamin deficiency. You really should be eating meat, you know.’
Thirty-Six
JUSTIN
A whole week he’d been searching. Seven dark, grey days and cold nights. Tonight, it was raining. Icy, slashing rain, which seemed to be seeping into his bones.
Debating whether to ring Alicia again, Justin decided against. He had no news, and with each passing day, that was definitely bad news. Alicia had promised to ring him the minute she heard anything from Taylor, which might be never. The police had had no sightings of Sophie, though that didn’t surprise Justin. She was obviously going to stay a low-priority case. Bitterness, like corrosive acid, rose painfully in his chest.
Alicia was out there too, handing out leaflets, visiting the various places they’d discussed, talking to kids at the school. Endlessly searching faces in the street. Justin had no doubt she would be doing that. He wished he could talk to her properly, communicate on anything but the most basic level. The fact was, though, he simply couldn’t talk about anything that touched on who they were before. Who he’d thought they were. Couldn’t bear to allow his mind to think about the future they didn’t have. He needed to stay focussed on finding Sophie. It was the only way he knew how to get through each day.
Concentrating his efforts, Justin walked on through the city streets, counting paving stones as he went, which at least occupied his mind if it did nothing to help calm him. Sleep might help, but that only ever came now to haunt him. Reaching the area he’d been heading for, where young and old slept rough in the city centre, Justin pulled out his photo of Sophie, showing it to a few people, getting no information. Then stopped, his chest constricting as he noticed a young girl around Sophie’s age.
She was a drug user. Justin noted the paraphernalia around her but didn’t judge her. One week observing the people here had altered his thinking. These kids were hooked. And once they were, it seemed there was rarely any going back. No going forward either, becoming the people they could be. They were stuck – slaves to their addiction. It was a lesson well learned in regard to the drug users who came into accident and emergency.
Seemingly oblivious to him as he walked towards her, the girl concentrated on her endeavours. Her head shot up as he stopped directly in front of her, her expression one of alarm.
‘Sorry,’ Justin said quickly. ‘I didn’t mean to scare you.’
‘Are you after my stuff?’ she asked, a panicky look in her eyes.
‘No,’ he assured her. ‘I’m looking for my daughter. I wondered whether—’
‘Haven’t seen her,’ she said immediately.
Justin sighed and massaged his forehead. ‘I haven’t shown you her photo yet.’
She shrugged and continued with her task, drawing her brew up into a syringe and flicking the needle. A long-term user then, Justin surmised, a knot of anger tightening his stomach. No matter how much he counted, he couldn’t seem to reach a point where his emotions weren’t pivoting between fury, fatigue, fear and despair.
‘Do you mind if I sit?’ he asked her.
She looked up again, seeming to measure him. ‘Not if you don’t,’ she said chirpily.
She was pretty. Unusual coloured eyes, somewhere between hazel and green – pupils constricted, meaning she was possibly a heroin user. Lowering himself down beside her, Justin felt his heart constrict. Seeing the eyebrow stud, in the same place as Sophie’s, he looked away, trying hard not to see his daughter sitting in the same place as this young girl. If she was still alive. He clamped down hard on that thought.
‘Is she missing?’ she asked him. ‘Your daughter?’
Justin nodded wearily and dragged a hand over his neck.
‘So why did she split?’
‘We had some problems. Her mother and me. We argued. Things were said. Things that Sophie overheard. Things she shouldn’t have.’ Justin paused, his gut aching, tears too damn close, he realised, gulping back a lump in his throat. ‘Do you ever wish you could turn the clock back?’ he asked her.
‘Every day,’ she assured him, with a wry smile.
‘I should go,’ Justin said, attempting to compose himself.
‘Do you have that photo?’ she asked, as he got to his feet.
Relieved she was prepared to at least look at it, Justin pulled it from his inside pocket and handed it to her.
She scanned it, then looked back at him. ‘I think I might have seen her,’ she said, her brow furrowed thoughtfully. ‘About a week ago, hanging around New Street Station. I remember thinking she shouldn’t be. She didn’t get on a train though.’
‘Oh?’ Justin said, his heart rate spiking.
‘She left with some bloke, eventually.’
Fuck. Justin swallowed hard. ‘Can you remember what he looked like?’ he asked, hoping against hope that she might.
‘Not really. An older bloke, quite tall, dark. They left eating chips together, so I figured she must know him.’
‘Do you remember what clothes he was wearing?’ Justin tried to keep the desperation from his voice.
She shook her head. ‘Jeans and trainers. I can’t remember what jacket. They were clean though. He’d didn’t look like a deadbeat.’
Tall, dark; wearing jeans and trainers. Justin sighed inwardly. She could be describing half the male population.
Thirty-Seven
SOPHIE
Sophie awoke with absolutely no recollection of where she was. Panic slicing through her, she pulled herself to sitting position, squinted hard against the thin, wintry sunlight filtering through the blinds and then glanced hurriedly around. Paul’s. Closing her eyes, she breathed a sigh of relief. She was at Paul’s apartment, in his guest room, though how she’d got here from the lounge, she hadn’t the slightest clue. No, not the lounge, the dining table. Sifting through her dysfunctional memory, she eased her legs over the edge of the bed and felt immediately woozy. A dull throb, like a band slowly tightening, pounded at the base of her skull. She massaged her neck, trying to recall anything beyond taking her seat at the table, but the images were grey and wispy.
Shit! He must have put her to bed. She certainly didn’t remember getting into it herself. Glancing quickly down at her attire, she emitted a huge sigh of relief, and then jumped to her feet as there was a tap on the door, only to end up plopping heavily back down again. ‘Yes,’ she called croakily. God, her throat felt like sandpaper. What the hell was the matter with her?
‘Are you decent?’ Paul called, pushing the door open a fraction.
‘Uh-huh,’ Sophie said, guessing she was decent enough for his eyes, being dressed, though had no clue what she must look like. Had she been sick? She’d definitely caught a whiff.
‘Morning – or rather, afternoon.’ Paul smiled as he came in, bearing a tray. ‘Are we feeling a bit better?’
‘Ugh, no, I feel awful,’ Sophie said miserably, blinking against the light that flooded in from the lounge. ‘What happened?’
‘At a guess, the flu bug going around happened. It’s a nasty one, apparently.’
He could say that again. ‘Did I pass out?’ she asked, guessing she must have.
‘You don’t remember the doctor coming?’ Paul placed the tray on the dressing table and turned to her, surprised.
‘Doctor?’ Sophie’s eyes boggled. ‘No.’ She shook her head, bewildered. She was obviously sicker than she thought she was.
‘You were running a fever,’ Paul said. ‘She gave you a shot.’
A shot?
‘Just something to bring your temperature down,’ Paul said, as her eyes drifted to the small pinprick on her arm. ‘She said to call her again, if you got worse, but I’m guessing you must be slightly improved, since you’re back with us. You had me really worried there, I can tell you. I must have checked on you at least ten times in the night.’
‘It’s no trouble,’ Paul assured her. ‘I think you might need to take her advice though.’
‘Which is?’ Sophie asked, wondering whether she could make it to the bathroom. She seriously needed to shower.
‘She’s in agreement with me about you possibly being lacking in essential vitamins and minerals. If you really can’t face eating meat, and I’m guessing you can’t, you need to supplement your diet. I’ve bought you some vitamin pills. I’ve left a couple on the tray.’ He nodded towards it. ‘There’s scrambled eggs there, if you’re up to it. And then I’m thinking you might want to get changed.’
‘Thanks,’ Sophie said again, feeling still puzzled. He must have remembered she didn’t eat meat if he’d discussed it with the doctor, so why had he put meat in the meal? She shrugged it off. He must have forgotten, and then been reminded when she’d thrown up.
‘Like I say, no trouble. You can’t help being ill, can you? I’ve rung your mum, by the way. She sends her best.’
Her best? She passes out and her mother sends her best? Cheers, Mum. At least she was finding out how wanted she really was now. The cow was probably out there having a ball. Shagging the latest boyfriend and test-riding a few more from Tinder.
Sophie shrugged. As far as she was concerned, she and Justin were well shot of Alicia. Her eyes suddenly filling up, Sophie hurriedly wiped her nose.
‘I’ll come in and strip the bed while you’re in the bathroom,’ Paul said, heading for the door.
‘Strip it?’ That was a bit OTT, wasn’t it? She wasn’t that niffy.
‘Mascara.’ Paul turned, nodding past her to the pillow, upon which, Sophie realised, were several tell-tale black patches. ‘You might want to not bother with it while you’re ill.’
‘Oops. Sorry,’ she said, wiping a hand under her nose again.
‘Oh, and Sophie?’
She looked sheepishly back at him.
‘Use a tissue to blow your nose, yes? There’s a box on the bedside table.’
‘Oh, right.’ Sophie plucked one and fiddled with it. She didn’t actually want to blow her nose.
‘Your bag’s over by the window,’ he reminded her. ‘I’ll leave you to it. Shout when you’re ready and I’ll give you a hand to the bathroom.’
‘Okay, thanks,’ Sophie said, as he went out. ‘Oh, where are my boots?’ she called, assuming he’d taken them off last night.
‘You were sick on them.’ Paul poked his head back around the door and gave her a sympathetic smile. ‘Looks like we’ll have to get you a new pair, when you’re up to it.’
Crap. Sophie’s heart sank. She found a use for the tissue after all, dabbing at the tears that sprang from her eyes, despite herself. She shouldn’t feel bereaved over a bloody pair of boots, but those were her new Red or Dead boots. More importantly, Justin had gone with her to buy them the week before their world had been blown apart. It shouldn’t matter. But it did.
Testing the floor with her feet, Sophie heaved herself up, feeling in need of Luke’s little pink elephant toy, the only link to her past and something she had made sure to bring with her.
Wobbling as she went, she dropped to her knees and delved into her bag, and then delved deeper. It wasn’t there! She did the whole pulling-stuff-out thing all over again. She’d had it here. She was sure she had. Hadn’t she? And now it wasn’t here.
She’d lost it. The one thing she’d wanted to keep above everything else.
‘I’m so sorry, Luke,’ she whispered, tears spilling down her cheeks. ‘So sorry.’ She was sure she could hear his happy little gurgles above the distant rumble of traffic, that she would see her beautiful baby brother again soon. She missed him so much. Sometimes, she would close her eyes, sure that when she opened them, he would be here. Sophie’s heart twisted inside her as she remembered Luke’s flailing little arms, his squeals of delight as she laughed and cooed at him and pressed his pink elephant to his cute button nose, the way his true baby-blue eyes would grow wide with excitement when they alighted on her coming into his nursery.
She’d been sure she could do this, survive on her own. She had no choice but to.
But now, her chest felt so tight she could hardly breathe.
Thirty-Eight
ALICIA
‘Paul again?’ Jessica asked, obviously noting Alicia’s wary expression as she checked her incoming call.
Alicia nodded, her heart, already heavy with guilt and confusion, plummeting like a lead weight in her chest.
‘Persistent, isn’t he?’ Jessica gave her an unimpressed look. ‘Are you going to answer it?’ she asked, turning to fill up the kettle.
She had no choice but to, Alicia realised. However much she told him she didn’t want to speak to him, have anything to do with him unless through legal channels, he just wouldn’t stop. Why? What could he possibly hope to gain? He didn’t want to suddenly take an interest in Sophie. He hadn’t even enquired after her, for God’s sake. And if, by the remotest, most unbelievable chance, he did want to figure things out with Sophie, then surely he must realise that this way wasn’t going to achieve anything.
Hesitating for a second, Alicia steeled herself and took the call.
‘Why are you doing this, Paul? Why are you harassing me?’ she said, before he could speak.
‘Harassing?’ Paul laughed, incredulous. ‘I’m not harassing you, Alicia. I’m simply trying to have a civil conversation with you about my daughter. Surely you have to concede you owe me that much?’
His daughter? Hearing him speak the words, laying claim to her as if she was his, not even caring enough to ask how Sophie might feel, how she might be, where she might be, Alicia swallowed back her contempt. She’s not here! She wanted to scream at it him. She’s not here – because of you! She would never let him near her. Never.
‘Look, Alicia, I just want to see you.’ He sighed heavily. ‘I don’t want to cause you more heartache. That’s the last thing I would ever want to do. I just want to talk, that’s all, one-to-one, not over the phone. We can sort this out, surely? I’m not an unreasonable man.’
Didn’t want to cause her more heartache? Alicia could hardly breathe.
‘You said your husband knows about us,’ Paul went on.
Alicia didn’t answer. How could she, without playing into his hands?
‘Does he know there’s a possibility Sophie might not be his?’
Alicia gripped her phone hard, praying this conversation wasn’t heading where she thought it might be.
‘Look, all I want to do is to see you and to talk, Alicia. That’s not too much to ask, is it? We had something good once. We shouldn’t be pulling each other apart. We can work together on this, can’t we?’
‘I don’t want to see you, Paul,’ Alicia repeated forcefully. ‘There are no circumstances under which I want to meet you, don’t you see? I love my husband.’
Paul went quiet.
Alicia waited. He was still there. She could hear him breathing.
‘I think you might want to see me, Alicia,’ he said, eventually, ‘given the results of the paternity test.’
Oh God, no. Alicia closed her eyes, feeling sick and claustrophobic, the noise of the kettle boiling and the clink of the cups behind her grating on her nerves, as the room closed in on her.
‘I don’t want to cause any upset, Alicia, I promise you. I just want to do what’s best,’ Paul continued, sounding quite calm. Kind, almost. Reasonable.
Feeling as if she might be going slowly insane, Alicia scrambled feverishly through her muddled recollections. He couldn’t have. How could he have, unless… Had he been in touch with Sophie?
‘How?’ she asked him, her mouth dry, her throat parched. ‘How did you get a test done? You’d need to have something of hers.’ A toothbrush? A strand of her hair? She tried to think, hoping that he was lying. Yet, there was a part of her that
was desperately hopeful that he might have seen her in the past week.
‘Her hairbrush,’ Paul supplied, killing all hope Alicia might have had dead. ‘When I was at the house.’
After they’d been burgled? When they’d just laid Lucas to rest?
‘You left me no choice, Alicia. I have a right to know. I think your husband has a right to know, too, don’t you?’ Paul said, as if anything could excuse the vileness of his actions. ‘I’ll leave it with you. I really do think we need to meet though, don’t you? For Sophie’s sake.’
Realising he’d ended the call, Alicia felt her blood run cold. What did he mean? A hard kernel of apprehension knotted inside her.
‘Not a good outcome then?’ Jessica enquired, glancing at her worriedly as she carried the tea to the table.
‘No. Struggling to draw air past the lump in her throat, Alicia shook her head wretchedly. ‘He claims to have had a paternity test,’ she murmured, her mind still reeling, her heart plummeting to the depths of her soul. ‘He’s calling her his daughter,’
‘Oh my God!’ Jessica stared at her, aghast. ‘You have to tell Justin, Alicia. He needs to know.’
Thirty-Nine
ALICIA
Coming into work had been a bad idea. If not for the little girl on her caseload who’d rung in claiming her father had deliberately burned her, she wouldn’t have. How could the mother have blamed the child, she wondered, bewilderedly. How could she have demanded that the child be removed from the family home, rather than the father, even after the hospital had concluded the injuries were non-accidental? Looking away from the manager who was heading the team meeting, Alicia swiped away a tear.
She couldn’t do this any more, she realised. How could she hope to remain detached, to try to hold families together – which had been her naive reason for wanting to do this in the first place – when she’d been responsible for tearing her own family apart? When her own daughter was missing? She’d often felt upset after the type of visit she’d had today, but this time she’d been devastated. She’d rushed straight from her car to the toilets, where she’d locked herself in a cubicle and sobbed her heart out.