The Affair_A gripping psychological thriller with a shocking twist

by Sheryl Browne

  She wasn’t any help to anyone like this, least of all the children. They needed someone who was level-headed, and strong enough to fight back for them.

  Lost in her thoughts, her heart leapt in her chest when her phone buzzed. Justin, she realised, her pulse racing – though in a very different way to how it always had whenever he’d texted her before. Grabbing up her bag, she mouthed an apology to the manager and hurried towards the office exit, collecting her coat as she went.

  Clutching her coat around her against the cutting wind, her thoughts immediately going to Sophie and how cold she might be, Alicia made her way to where Justin had said he’d parked and scoured the road, left and right. It was only when he flashed his lights that she remembered he wasn’t driving his own car any more, which had been written off the day their baby boy had died.

  A crushing wave of grief washing over her, Alicia closed her eyes, working hard to compose herself before heading towards him. She felt as if she were hanging on by her fingernails, but she couldn’t let go in front of him. She knew that would only compromise him into offering her comfort he couldn’t possibly want to.

  Sliding into the passenger seat, her heart missed a beat as she looked Justin over. He looked dreadful: unshaven, exhausted, his eyes those of a haunted man.

  ‘How are you?’ he asked her awkwardly.

  She had no way to answer. ‘Getting through the days,’ she said, turning forwards as Justin fixed his gaze on the windscreen. He still couldn’t look her in the eye. Alicia didn’t blame him. She couldn’t look herself in the eye.

  ‘Have you spoken to him?’ he asked after a second, resting his hands on the steering wheel.

  Alicia swallowed. ‘Yes,’ she said, and took a deep breath, bracing herself to tell him what she desperately didn’t want to. Lies hadn’t kept him safe. She had no idea how she’d ever hoped they would.

  Justin simply nodded. ‘Do you think he might have been touch with her?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Alicia answered honestly. ‘I think not, from the things he said. He hadn’t spoken to Sophie before she left. I’m not even sure he knows she’s missing.’

  Justin ran his thumbs pensively along the steering wheel. ‘You’re not having in-depth conversations then?’ There was a sarcastic edge to his voice.

  Alicia’s heart dipped an inch lower, if that were possible. ‘No,’ she said simply. To try to explain would mean to explain everything, and Justin had given her no indication he wanted to hear it. ‘I texted him this morning.’ On the back of what he’d said, she had no choice but to contact him. For Sophie’s sake, he’d said. She’d gone over it and over it. She thought he’d been talking about Sophie’s future, but there’d been something in his tone that she couldn’t quite figure out… ‘To ask him whether he’d been in contact with her,’ she went on. ‘He didn’t answer.’

  Justin glanced at her, his expression a mixture of wariness and surprise.

  ‘His voicemail said he was at a one-day conference. I confirmed it with his office. He seems to be behaving perfectly normally.’

  Again, Justin nodded. ‘You know where he works then?’ There was that sarcastic edge again to his tone, though now clouded with weary resignation.

  ‘Jessica knew, through her friend, David,’ she supplied, wanting to soften the blow she was about to deliver; knowing she couldn’t possibly. She’d never before reached a place where she’d thought life wasn’t worth living. Now, whenever she dozed, in the hours between the thin light of dawn and daylight – the only hours that sleep allowed her some escape – she would open her eyes to the harsh truth of an existence without the people she loved, and she simply didn’t want to be in this reality any more. If not for Sophie, for the further pain she would cause Justin, she doubted she would be.

  ‘There’s something I have to tell you,’ she said, feeling physically sick at the thought of delivering another knife wound to his chest. ‘Something he told me.’

  Justin didn’t respond, stilling his hands on the wheel and seeming to brace himself instead.

  ‘He said he’d had a paternity test.’ There was no way to soften the news that would surely crush him. She waited, praying, futilely. How would he not be destroyed?

  Justin didn’t react immediately. And then, shaking his head, he emitted a short, scornful laugh. ‘And he’s had the results?’ he asked, his tone flat.

  ‘I believe so, yes.’ Her throat tight, Alicia looked away. If he looked at her now, if she saw what was in his eyes, she would crumble. ‘He threatened to tell you,’ she whispered, using her sleeve to wipe her eyes, rather than delve into her bag for a tissue. ‘Or at least he hinted he would, so yes, I suppose he must.’

  ‘Threatened?’ She felt Justin turn to her. ‘To what end?’ He sounded incredulous, confused.

  Alicia hesitated. ‘I’m not sure,’ she said, not knowing how to share her suspicions with her husband.

  ‘Because he wants future contact with her?’ Justin’s voice rose. ‘The daughter he’s had no contact with whatsoever, and who is now missing?’

  Feeling sick to her very soul, Alicia pressed a hand to her forehead. She had to talk to him, properly. She couldn’t undo the lie she’d told, but she had to talk to him, try to explain. ‘I don’t think that’s his reason, no,’ she said guardedly.

  Justin didn’t say anything – nothing at all – staring straight ahead instead.

  Alicia looked towards him. His face was taut and white, a tell-tale twitch tugging at his cheek. ‘Justin,’ she started, ‘I know you won’t want to hear it, but—’

  ‘I need to go,’ he said tersely, and started the engine. ‘You might want to tell him to have a rethink.’

  Forty

  SOPHIE

  Waking with a jolt, Sophie sat bolt upright, looking frantically around. Seeing Paul coming through the door, she breathed a sigh of relief and then sank groggily back down.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ he asked, walking across to put a glass of Coke on the bedside table.

  ‘Shitty,’ Sophie answered honestly, blinking up at him. She felt like she had the worst bug ever.

  ‘Language,’ Paul said, smiling tolerantly as he looked down at her. He wasn’t very impressed though, Sophie guessed, from the slight narrowing of his eyes.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said, attempting to lever herself up. She’d have to watch her mouth, she realised. The fact was, though, she did feel like shit. It must be the worst superbug ever. ‘Do you think I should maybe go to the doctor’s?’ she asked him, as he reached to help her.

  ‘I’ve rung them,’ he said. ‘They can’t prescribe antibiotics for flu bugs, unfortunately. You need to drink plenty of fluids though. Don’t worry, it’ll be out of your system soon, I promise. I’ve had it myself.’

  Sophie nodded. She supposed he was right. And the fluids made sense. Her throat still felt like the bottom of a birdcage. She reached thirstily for her Coke.

  Paul beat her to it. ‘Don’t want to have to strip that bed again, do we?’ He smiled and guided the glass to her mouth. ‘You should think about going without make-up,’ he said, watching as she took a huge glug. ‘Natural is so much nicer, don’t you think?’

  Sophie managed a small, indulgent smile. Yeah, right, she thought.

  ‘You should lose the eyebrow stud, too,’ he said, nodding towards it as he placed the glass back on the table.

  ‘Why?’ She gawked up at him. She liked her stud. It had taken her ages to pluck up the courage to get it done, and it had hurt like hell, but she was quite proud of it.

  ‘Just a suggestion,’ Paul said. ‘If you’re hoping to get onto your veterinary course, they’re likely to frown upon it, for hygiene reasons.’

  Oh. That gave Sophie pause for thought.

  ‘Plus, it does look a bit juvenile, to be honest,’ Paul added.

  ‘Does it?’ Sophie frowned. ‘I thought it looked pretty cool.’

  Paul closed one eye and shook his head doubtfully. ‘Childish,’ he said. ‘I’d ta
ke it out if I were you, but that’s just my opinion.’

  Not entirely convinced, Sophie reached for it, wincing as she pulled it out. He might be right, she supposed. She could always put it back in later.

  ‘Better,’ he said, nodding approvingly. ‘Much. Trust me. Now, will you be all right for a couple of hours, do you think? I have a seminar I have to head up at the local office. I shouldn’t be too long, though.’

  ‘I thought you were on leave,’ Sophie said, though she’d already guessed he was off somewhere, since he was wearing a grey business suit, crisp white shirt and red tie. He definitely looked dapper. Not as handsome as Justin though. She quashed an overwhelming sense of homesickness and wondered again where Luke’s little pink elephant had gone. Paul had said he hadn’t seen it but would ask his cleaner. Sophie hadn’t seen a cleaner, but then she’d been pretty zonked out for a while.

  ‘Seems I’m in big demand.’ Paul rolled his eyes. ‘My overseas investment knowledge is invaluable, apparently. There’s more Coke in the fridge, but drink plenty of water, too. That fizzy stuff’s no good for you. Way too much sugar. Don’t want to get fat, do you? I’ll make sure to get Diet Coke next time. Help yourself to anything else you fancy, obviously.’

  ‘Cheers,’ Sophie said. She actually was feeling marginally better – possibly well enough to have a potter around. She’d rather watch TV than lie around in here, and she could really use another shower.

  ‘Shouldn’t be too long,’ Paul said, heading for the door. ‘I’ll bring some Florida brochures back with me. That should be worth getting better for. Oh, and don’t forget to take your vitamins. I’ve left a couple next to your Coke.’

  Forty-One

  JUSTIN

  ‘Christ, you look rough,’ Taylor observed, looking Justin over as he came into the station reception area.

  ‘You need to talk to someone,’ Justin said, dragging his hands up over his face, exhausted and disorientated from endless hours spent searching for Sophie. He’d crawled the streets, checked shop doorways and car parks, trawled shopping precincts, and all the while, he hadn’t been able to shake the thought rattling around in his head: tall and dark. That fitted Radley’s description. He told himself he was being paranoid, counting how many tall, dark men he saw as he walked, but after his conversation with Alicia, he wanted Radley checked out. The man’s interest, which he hadn’t even tried to hide, was obviously more in Alicia than Sophie, but Justin needed to be sure he’d had no contact with her. He wanted the fucker out of his life, which might never happen, unless Justin did something about it. Sophie was his daughter. In his heart, he didn’t need any proof of that. On paper, though… he had to do something about that. Go to the hospital and get the test organised. Today. Whatever the outcome, he would fight to make sure he stayed part of her life. He’d file for custody if he had to. First, though, he had to find her. He would find her.

  Justin took a breath, knowing that what he was about to say might give Taylor more reason to class Sophie a low-risk runaway. It was possible that Radley had had no contact with her, but if he had any information regarding her whereabouts whatsoever, then Justin had to take that chance. ‘Paul Radley, the man who was at our house on the day of the break-in, he and Alicia, they…’ He faltered, the words sticking in his throat. ‘They had an affair.’

  Taylor’s eyes widened.

  ‘Years ago,’ Justin went on, awkwardly, ‘around the time Sophie was conceived.’

  ‘Ah.’ Taylor’s brow furrowed in consternation. ‘You’d better come through.’ He gestured for the PC behind the desk to release the security door. ‘So, am I to assume there’s some doubt around her parentage?’ he asked, leading Justin through to his office and nodding him towards a visitor’s chair before seating himself at his desk.

  Justin declined the invitation to take a seat. He was so wound up, he was finding it difficult to stand still, let alone sit. ‘Possibly,’ he said carefully. There was no way he wanted Taylor privy to the information about the test, which might sway his thinking in regard to whatever rights Radley had. ‘Alicia and I haven’t really… Look, I don’t know for sure, okay? For Christ’s sake, do you need the details? Can you not just send someone to his—’

  ‘Slow down, Justin,’ Taylor interrupted. ‘Take a breath and explain slowly. I can’t do anything until I have the facts.’

  Justin sighed agitatedly. ‘You have them. There’s a possibility Sophie might not be mine. This guy turns up out of the blue and—’

  ‘He’s had no previous contact with Sophie then?’

  ‘As far as I know, no. Jesus, what does it matter?’ Justin snapped. ‘My concern is that he might be in contact with her now.’

  Taylor looked puzzled. ‘Have you spoken to Alicia about this?’

  Justin’s frustration, which was already way off the scale, multiplied tenfold. ‘Not in great detail, no. It’s a little difficult, as you might imagine.’

  Picking up his pen, Taylor began tapping it repeatedly on his desk, which was immensely annoying. ‘Do you think he might have taken her?’

  Kneading his forehead, Justin sighed heavily. ‘I don’t know,’ he said exasperatedly. ‘His interest seems to be more in my wife.’

  Taylor stopped tapping. ‘And was Sophie aware of this, shall we say, dilemma?’

  ‘Yes,’ Justin said, guilt rising him. ‘She overheard me talking to Alicia’s sister.’

  Taylor nodded slowly. ‘So, if Sophie is in contact with this… Paul Radley… it would be of her own volition?’

  Justin clenched his teeth hard. ‘Yes, of her own volition,’ he said. ‘The point is, he might well know something about her whereabouts.’

  Again, Taylor nodded. ‘And the address?’ he asked, poised to put his pen to its proper use.

  ‘Christ almighty! I don’t know! If I did, I wouldn’t be here, would I?’

  ‘I see.’ Taylor downed his pen and laced his hands in front of him. ‘So, let me get this straight. According to what you’ve told me, it would appear that, if Sophie has had any contact with Mr Radley, it would be willingly. Do you agree?’

  ‘Willingly?’ Justin eyed him incredulously. ‘He’s had nothing to do with her! Played no part in her life whatsoever. He doesn’t give a damn about her. If he has been in contact with her, it’s part of his plan to get to Alicia. I simply need to know whether he’s heard from her, so I can get my daughter back. What part of this don’t you get?’

  Obviously unimpressed by the outburst of temper, Taylor glanced down at his desk and shuffled around some paperwork. ‘How old is Sophie, Justin?’ he asked.

  Immediately realising the significance of that question, Justin felt his heart go into freefall. Neither he nor Alicia had mentioned it when they’d spoken, but he hadn’t doubted that his wife would have been thinking exactly what he was: that the milestone that marked Sophie’s sixteenth birthday tomorrow would carry their daughter further away from them, that she might always remain low priority to everyone but them. Unless something happened to her, of course, and the worst-case scenario that had been haunting Justin day and night came to pass. Then they would mobilise all available bodies, or whatever it was police did when there was a real crime to solve. Someone raped and strangled, bludgeoned or knifed to death. Then they would cordon off areas, go house to house, investigate – while he buried another child.

  Justin felt a cold shiver run through him. He didn’t answer Taylor’s question.

  ‘A man eliciting contact with his sixteen-year-old daughter isn’t a criminal offence, Justin,’ Taylor said regretfully.

  Justin swallowed back a tight lump in his throat. ‘And if he’s not her father?’

  ‘We don’t know, though, do we?’ Taylor pointed out, confirming what Justin had already concluded: that they were going to do absolutely nothing. ‘If he’s had contact with her and he’s not, obviously we will want to speak to him,’ he went on, his expression now apologetic, as if impelling Justin to understand his hands were tied. ‘But ther
e’s nothing we can do without proof of parentage, other than make a general enquiry. Not unless Sophie herself actually comes forward with a complaint. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Right. Well.’ Justin shook his head, disbelieving. ‘Thanks for your help, Detective Inspector.’

  ‘Justin…’ Taylor called after him, as Justin strode furiously towards the door. ‘Dr Cole! Don’t do anything rash.’

  Forty-Two

  JUSTIN

  Nice premises. Justin surveyed the Portland stone exterior of the 1930s art deco building from which Graham & Young Investment Advisers operated. The lease would undoubtedly be extortionate. Is that what Alicia had been impressed with, he wondered, his wealth? His emotions were swinging between disbelief that she would ever have got involved with Radley and gut-twisting fury. From where Justin was standing, the man had no redeeming features whatsoever.

  They’d had an affair right under his nose. And this wanker had swanned back into her life and was resorting to threats, using his daughter as some kind of hold over her, presumably so he could pick up where he left off. That was a huge error of judgement on Radley’s part, and Justin had decided to point out just how huge. He was obviously the type of person who got off on getting what he wanted, whatever the cost. Not used to being turned down. Justin recalled the challenge in Radley’s eyes the first time he’d had the misfortune to meet him at the party, his obvious irritation when Alicia had turned down his offer of a lift to Jessica’s after the break-in, the day she’d buried her child. And this was supposed to be someone who cared about her? About Sophie?