by Sandie Jones
‘He has a dislocated shoulder, a torn tendon in his arm and some facial injuries,’ says Da Silva. ‘They have him in surgery now, but he will be okay, I think.’
‘So, you’ve not spoken to him yet?’ asks Noah, without even looking up.
‘No, we will be speaking to him about the evening’s events as soon as we’re able to.’ Da Silva looks between them. ‘I know this must be a very difficult time, but I just need to ask you both again, so I am completely clear, that neither of you saw Paige Collins before the accident.’
‘I-I’ve just told your colleague,’ Rachel cries. ‘The last time I saw her was when I left the restaurant to talk to Ali. Paige was outside talking to Jack, my husband.’
‘Why were they outside?’ asks the policeman.
Noah’s mouth pulls tight and his eyes darken, as though he’s about to say or do something he might regret. Rachel puts a hand on his in an attempt to silently caution him, and his jaw slackens, as whatever incriminating statement he was about to make dissipates.
‘That was probably about fifteen minutes or so before it happened,’ Rachel goes on.
‘And you?’ Da Silva says, turning to Noah. ‘When did you last see your wife and where was she?’
Any fire that remains in Noah’s eyes fades as he processes the loaded question. He rubs his chin, bristling his five o’clock shadow that seems to have greyed since yesterday.
‘She was out on the terrace, talking to Jack,’ he says. ‘By the time I went outside to watch the fireworks, I couldn’t see either of them.’
‘And you didn’t see them again,’ asks Da Silva. ‘Before the car came?’
Noah shakes his head.
‘I don’t understand why it’s so important,’ says Rachel. ‘What does it matter where Paige was? Isn’t it enough to know that when the car hit her, she was thrown into the water?’ A sob catches in her throat.
Da Silva grimaces. ‘I’m afraid it’s not that simple.’
Rachel and Noah both look at him, waiting for him to elaborate.
‘Because Mrs Collins’s body was found in the car.’
27
Noah locks eyes with Rachel, his fear, anger, sadness and confusion mirroring her own.
‘B-but . . .’ she stutters, unable to make any sense of what’s going on.
‘How . . .?’ starts Noah.
‘That’s impossible,’ manages Rachel. ‘That can’t be right.’
Da Silva looks at her resignedly.
‘Sh-she couldn’t have been in the car,’ Rachel mumbles, hoping that if she says it enough it’ll be true.
‘I’m afraid she was, and I need to understand what happened and why she was there.’
‘Well, she . . .’ blusters Rachel, desperately looking for answers herself. ‘She must have been making an ill-fated attempt at getting home. She wouldn’t have been used to being on the wrong side of the road. She might have got confused with the gearstick being on the right instead of the left. There are myriad reasons why she may have been disorientated. It was dark, she’d been drinking, the fireworks went off. The list goes on . . .’ She’s scrabbling around for any other reasonable justification as to why Paige would have been in that car, and, if she was, how this terrible accident could have occurred. Because whichever way Rachel looks at this, it has to have been an accident, as the alternative doesn’t bear thinking about.
‘Did anything unusual happen at the wedding or the party afterwards?’ asks Da Silva. ‘Were there any arguments or problems?’
Rachel’s head throbs, the beat of a banging drum reverberating as her pulse quickens.
‘Senhor Da Silva, posso falar com você, por favor?’
Rachel looks up to see Casimiro’s grave face peering around the curtain.
‘Excuse me for just one moment,’ says the policeman.
As soon as he’s out of earshot, Rachel turns to Noah, with a look of utter horror on her face.
‘Oh my God, it’s my fault,’ she croaks.
‘What?’ exclaims Noah. ‘How can it be?’
Rachel shudders involuntarily as she looks at Noah. ‘What if she overheard me and Ali talking about what happened between us?’
‘Ali knew?’ asks Noah. ‘So, she did hear everything you and I said?’
Rachel nods, struggling for breath as she imagines Paige hidden from view around the back of the restaurant, but still within easy listening distance. What might have gone through her head if she heard Ali’s observation that Noah and Rachel were still in love with each other? That Josh might be Noah’s child?
‘She heard it all,’ says Rachel, not knowing whether she’s referring to Ali or Paige.
‘Well, did you put Ali right, like you did me?’ he asks. ‘Did you tell her there was absolutely no chance Josh could possibly be mine.’
A tear falls onto Rachel’s cheek. ‘I told her the truth,’ she says.
Noah raises his eyebrows. ‘Which is?’
‘Which is that I honestly don’t know.’
His eyes, which already hold so much pain and angst appear to take on a truckload more.
‘So, you always knew there was a possibility,’ he says quietly.
‘No!’ she exclaims, desperate for him to understand. ‘I’ve always assumed Jack was his father because . . .’
Noah looks at her, waiting.
‘Because I wanted him to be,’ she says, when she can’t think of a better answer.
‘Because it was easier,’ says Noah.
Rachel wipes a tear away. ‘Yes,’ she says honestly. ‘I guess it was.’
‘And now?’ asks Noah.
‘Now, everything’s being called into question and I don’t know what to think anymore.’
‘We don’t know that Paige heard anything,’ says Noah.
‘Why else would she have done what she’s done?’ cries Rachel, unable to keep her voice down.
‘You’re jumping to conclusions,’ he says.
She shakes her head vehemently. ‘I made her do this,’ she says. ‘She was coming for me.’
Her chest convulses as she sobs and Noah takes her hand in his.
‘Are you saying she did this on purpose?’ asks Noah hoarsely. ‘That she targeted us?’
Rachel tries to stop her mind from fast-forwarding, but it’s like holding back a freight train. There are so many faces, scenarios and possibilities crowding her brain that she has to wait for the fog to clear to think straight.
‘Me, you, us – I don’t know who she would have felt more betrayed by.’
‘Fucking hell,’ says Noah as his head falls into his hands.
‘What am I going to do?’ cries Rachel. ‘Should I tell them?’
Noah’s praying hands touch his lips as he processes the question.
‘We’ve done nothing wrong,’ he says eventually.
‘We’ve kept a secret for twenty years.’ Rachel sniffs.
‘It won’t help anybody if we start dredging up the past now,’ says Noah.
‘But it will offer an explanation for why Paige did what she did,’ says Rachel. ‘What if Ali doesn’t make it?’
She thinks of Maria and the heart-wrenching pain she’ll endure at the loss of her only child. Every mother and child’s relationship is special, but their bond was unlike anything Rachel had ever seen. They’d been through so much already and come out of it all the stronger, but Maria would never get over losing the daughter who gave up so much for her, only to have her life snuffed out on what should have been the best day of her life.
‘I may as well have killed Ali myself,’ says Rachel. ‘She had no part to play in this; she was only doing the right thing by me, and look how I’ve repaid her.’
‘You’ve got to stop doing this to yourself,’ says Noah.
‘If anything happens to her,’ she says, ignoring him, ‘I’m going to have blood on my hands.’
‘This isn’t our fault,’ says Noah angrily, though Rachel knows it isn’t aimed at her.
‘I apologize,’ says Da Silva
, reappearing around the curtain looking even more thoughtful and serious than when he went out. ‘So there is nothing you can think of that may have started this catalogue of events?’
There is so much at stake here, Rachel feels like she’s standing on a bridge, deciding whether to jump or not.
‘My wife and Jack Hunter were having an affair,’ says Noah, making the decision for her.
Rachel looks at him, unable to hide the shock of his confession.
Da Silva raises his eyebrows. ‘I see . . .’ he says, though it feels like there’s more to come.
‘Both Rachel and I found out at the wedding reception,’ Noah goes on whilst the policeman listens thoughtfully.
‘And how did that make you feel?’
Rachel and Noah look at each other, both of them seemingly unable to put it into words.
‘I understand,’ says Da Silva. ‘Perhaps you can tell me how you came to find this out.’
‘I don’t see why it makes a difference,’ says Rachel. ‘Because it has nothing to do with what’s happened.’
‘It might,’ says Da Silva.
Rachel shakes her head. ‘Paige would never have done this intentionally,’ she says, willing herself to believe it.
‘I’m not suggesting she did, but we have to look at all the possibilities.’
‘There are no other possibilities,’ cries Rachel.
‘You have escaped very lightly,’ the policeman says to Noah. ‘Did you see the car coming?’
Noah nods. ‘I heard it before I saw it,’ he says. ‘I suppose I just instinctively jumped out of the way.’
‘So, you didn’t see who was in the car?’ asks Da Silva.
‘Well, no,’ says Noah, looking confused. ‘But it was obviously my wife.’ He chokes on the last word.
‘And you, Mrs Hunter? You weren’t able to see who was in the car?’
She shakes her head. ‘I just remember the lights blinding me, so I couldn’t see who was driving, but I think it’s pretty conclusive, don’t you?’
‘That it was Paige Collins?’ offers Da Silva.
Rachel nods.
‘Not necessarily,’ he says.
Noah and Rachel look at him quizzically as he sighs heavily.
‘Because it appears that someone else may have been in the car with her.’
28
The last thing Rachel remembers before falling asleep is that she didn’t think she’d ever be able to sleep again. Now, as her eyes flicker open, she’s met by darkness, but she can make out an unfamiliar dim light filtering in from somewhere beyond her bed. It occurs to her that she might be in a hotel – she’s definitely not at home, she can tell by the acrid smell and strange beeping noises. Her throat is parched and she reaches to the right, where she’d normally keep her water, but there’s a spiky tug in her hand that immediately makes her recoil.
There’s a hum of voices, barely audible at first, but as soon as she concentrates, she can separate two accents. It feels as if she’s playing a lead role in someone else’s dream and, desperate to get herself out of it, she blinks really hard. It’s always worked before, when she’s trapped in a nightmare with no other way out. But as much as she squeezes her eyelids together, she still doesn’t wake up in her own bed.
Jack’s here though – she can hear him, talking quietly, so as not to disturb her. Then she remembers the villa they were staying in and she realizes he must be downstairs.
She swings her legs off the bed, but a searing pain shoots from her hip, making her fall back against the pillow. What the hell’s going on? Jack’s voice seeps into her consciousness, his words becoming clearer, as if he’s getting nearer. She goes to call out but she stops in her tracks as she hears him say, ‘She’s my soulmate.’
‘So, you would do anything to protect her?’ asks another voice, heavily accented.
‘Of course,’ says Jack. ‘She’s the love of my life. We’re going to spend the rest of our lives together.’
‘So, you’re planning to leave your wife?’ asks the other male voice.
There’s a loaded silence as Rachel’s befuddled brain momentarily plays catch up.
‘Yes,’ says Jack. ‘But it’s complicated because Paige is my wife’s best friend.’
The name pierces Rachel’s heart like a knife, as reality hits her. The wedding, the arguments, the blood, the thrashing waves as the car disappeared into the murky depths. Her lungs struggle to inflate as she gasps for air, making her feel as if she was the one in the water. Tears sting her eyes and she bites down on her clenched fist, for fear of crying out.
‘Do you remember what happened to you, Mr Hunter?’ asks the man, who Rachel now recognizes as Da Silva.
Jack sighs. ‘I know that I was hit by a car that just came out of nowhere.’
‘Do you remember where you were just before the accident?’
‘I was on the terrace,’ says Jack, sounding as if he’s in pain.
‘And Paige Collins? Do you remember where she was the last time you saw her?’
‘I . . . I don’t know,’ says Jack. ‘Look, what’s this about?’
‘I’m afraid I have some difficult news to tell you,’ says Da Silva.
‘What is it?’ asks Jack, his voice high-pitched. ‘Is it Paige? Is she okay? Please tell me she’s okay.’
A heavy silence fills the air as Da Silva contemplates how to answer.
‘Do you not want to know how your wife is first?’
‘Yes, of course,’ snaps Jack.
‘Your wife – she is fine, but I am afraid to say Paige Collins was not quite so lucky.’
‘What do you mean?’ asks Jack, panic-stricken. ‘Where is she? What’s happened to her?’
‘Mrs Collins’s body was recovered a little while ago,’ says Da Silva.
Jack lets out a strangled cry. ‘No, she can’t be. She can’t be.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Was she hit?’ asks Jack. ‘Did the car hit her? Who’s the driver? You need to find the driver.’ He’s verging on hysterical.
‘Her body was found in the car,’ says Da Silva.
‘What the hell,’ cries Jack. ‘But why? Why would she do that?’
‘I’m not entirely sure she did,’ says Da Silva.
‘What?’ Jack chokes. ‘What do you mean?’
‘It appears Mrs Collins might not have been alone in the car.’
There’s a sharp intake of breath. Rachel doesn’t know if it’s hers or Jack’s as she’s suddenly reminded of what she’d already been told.
‘Are you suggesting that someone . . .?’ Jack chokes. ‘Someone did this on purpose . . . to hurt her?’
‘We’re looking at all lines of inquiry at the moment, but if you have any reason to think someone might have had cause to do such a thing, I’d be grateful to hear it. I understand your wife and Noah Collins found out about your affair at the wedding party?’
‘They did?’ answers Jack, almost in question. ‘Erm . . . erm yes . . . yes they did.’
‘Did you tell them?’
‘Er, no, I was intending to, but someone else got there first.’
‘And who was that?’
‘Ali,’ spits Jack, with such venom that it makes Rachel shudder.
‘Alison Hunter?’ asks Da Silva, double-checking. ‘Why would she do that?’
Jack makes a strange snorting sound. ‘Because she’s been threatening to do it for months. She’s jealous of Paige. Jealous of what we have.’
Rachel can imagine the confusion that must be clouding the policeman’s features. ‘Why would she be jealous?’ he asks.
‘Ali and I had a thing,’ says Jack, resignedly. ‘A little while back.’
‘An intimate relationship?’ asks Da Silva.
‘We slept together a few times,’ says Jack.
Rachel’s head falls back onto the pillow. So they’d lied, though she doesn’t know who she’s most disappointed in: Jack or Ali.
‘I called it off when I started seeing
Paige about two years ago,’ he goes on. ‘But Ali couldn’t handle it and she’s been blackmailing me ever since.’
‘So, it’s fair to say Alison Hunter disliked Paige Collins?’
‘With a vengeance,’ says Jack.
‘Do you think she is capable of causing Paige harm?’
‘Without a doubt,’ says Jack, making Rachel gasp.
‘But Alison Hunter was found on the terrace and is critically ill,’ says Da Silva.
‘Well, maybe she . . .’ starts Jack. ‘I mean, God, she could have driven the car and jumped out at the last minute.’
There’s a moment’s silence. ‘That is a possibility,’ says Da Silva eventually.
‘It’s more than a possibility,’ says Jack. ‘It would explain why she’s so badly injured.’
‘Mmm,’ muses the policeman. ‘I will certainly bear it in mind. But tell me, what was your wife’s reaction to this news? How did she take it?’
‘As you can imagine,’ says Jack stiffly. ‘Rachel’s pretty calm normally, but understandably she just saw red. She went completely crazy – I’ve never seen her so angry.’
‘What did she do?’
‘She was shouting and swearing, telling me I’d never see our son again. Then she started hitting me in the chest with her fists.’
The blatant lie makes sweat spring to every pore on Rachel’s skin and her mouth instantaneously dries up, making it impossible to speak, even if she wanted to.
‘Did she confront Paige about the affair?’ asks Da Silva.
‘She was definitely intending to,’ says Jack.
‘Do you think your wife . . .?’ starts Da Silva before leaving it hanging there.
Rachel’s chest feels like it might explode as she waits to see if the man she loves, who she thought loved her, is about to incriminate her in a murder.
‘I don’t know,’ cries Jack. ‘I just don’t know anything anymore. Rachel was mad, really mad, but she surely wouldn’t do something . . . something like this.’ He takes a deep breath and Rachel imagines him grimacing and tilting his head to the side as he adds, ‘Would she?’
She stifles the sob that she can no longer hold in, with a hand over her mouth. How could he do this to her? And the others, by picking them off, one by one, loading them up with a motive, when all of them were stricken by the car itself. All of them except Noah, who was first on the scene to help those who had been tossed aside like ragdolls.
