‘All right. Both of you bloody nagging at me. It’s Scarlett, okay?’
‘Surname?’
Nick sighs deeply and sits down. ‘Bates.’
‘And when was she your pupil?’
‘The year before I met Gemma, 2013.’
‘School?’
‘Priory Secondary.’
‘When did your relationship with her start?’
‘Last Christmas.’
How could he do that to me? He may as well be compiling a shopping list for all the regret he’s showing. I’d told him I was pregnant not long before Christmas. Was this his revenge for me trying to leave?
‘Until when?’
Nick purses his lips. Bit late to pretend you care about my feelings, I want to shout at him.
‘About three weeks ago.’
I gasp. All that time, him and Rosie. That day he came into the restaurant and she miraculously disappeared. I trusted her with a key to our house when all along she was sleeping with my husband. She’s bloody welcome to him.
Greg takes a call and minutes later he’s telling us he’s got to go out, an emergency has come up. He’ll be back as soon as he can.
‘Will you be okay?’ Greg says to me. ‘I can ask Becca to come and sit with you.’
I shake my head. I’m trembling but I don’t think he’s noticed.
‘What, I’m not good enough to look after my own wife now?’ Nick kicks the bottom of the curtain. There’s a lull in activity outside.
Greg stands in the doorway and looks back at me. Don’t leave me, I want to say. Instead, I raise my hand in farewell.
After Greg’s gone, I stay sitting on the sofa in silence going over and over everything Nick’s said. He’s standing at the window spying round the curtain at the reporters. If I sit still enough, he might forget I’m here and go away.
Nick spins round. ‘So you think you can shout at me like that in front of him, do you?’ He strides across the room and stands over me.
‘I’m so sick of your lies, Nick. How could you sleep with her when I’d just told you I was pregnant?’
‘Oh, jealous now, are we?’
‘Tell me when in December you started seeing her?’ I brace myself for him to whack me, but I can’t help it, I need to know.
‘Don’t worry, it was after you decided to leave me.’
‘How long after?’
‘Oh, let me think, about an hour to be precise.’
I shift along the sofa and stand up. ‘Are you telling me you were with another woman, while I was bleeding…’ I can’t even bring myself to say it but an image of glass and blood on the kitchen floor flashes through my mind. If I’d not been able to knock the walkabout phone out of its cradle with the broom stick, I’d never have been able to call Becca. They said at the hospital that I could have bled to death from the deep cut in my leg.
‘You didn’t want to be with me so what are you complaining about?’ He exaggerates a shrug.
‘And you made damn sure I couldn’t leave.’
‘I gave you everything and you chucked it back in my face.’
‘Because you’re a bully.’ I dart past him and dash to the hall but as I’m about to open the front door he grabs a handful of hair on the back of my head and tugs me sideways. I try and twist away but we crash into the coat stand and I scream, blood trickling down my face.
Chapter Sixty-Six
12 August 2018
Scarlett
I wake up on Sunday to sunshine beating through the window. The air is thick with heat. A dog is barking relentlessly nearby. Amy is sitting in almost the same position she was in before I fell asleep.
‘Morning,’ she says.
‘Have you slept?’
‘Yeah, for a little while. You might want to have a look at what I’ve found out about Mr Adams. It took quite a bit of digging but guess what? He was dismissed from his job as a teacher.’ She grins, triumphant.
‘Really? I wondered why he was working for the local council.’
‘He was a supply teacher in another secondary school after ours, around four years ago. Somewhere in Northampton.’
Suddenly, I’m wide awake.
‘And he was sacked because…?’
‘He was accused of having a relationship with a pupil.’ She raises her eyebrows at me, as though I can guess the rest.
‘Oh!’ I sit upright.
‘She was seventeen and her name was Gemma Brown.’
‘You’re fucking joking me?’ I practically leap out of bed.
‘Nope, I’m afraid not.’
‘What year was that?’
‘They met in winter 2014.’
‘A few months after he left our school?’
‘Yep. They started a relationship and fled to America on a long holiday in spring 2015. Las Vegas to be precise. It wasn’t pursued because his contract ended and Gemma turned eighteen while they were away. They got married and came back to Bedford.’
‘She’s almost the same age as me? She never said.’
‘She told you about this?’
‘She said he whisked her off to Vegas and sprang the marriage on her. But I assumed she was almost thirty, I mean the way she dresses, long skirts, baggy tops.’
‘Maybe he doesn’t like her dressing her age.’
‘Or he doesn’t let her. So hang on, before he met her he was flirting with me when I was fifteen going on sixteen.’
‘So it could have been you.’
‘Shit. Makes you wonder what would have happened if he’d stayed at our school.’
‘I think you had a lucky escape.’
‘Now he’s bored with me he’s probably got some other girl in the picture.’ I stand by the open window, but when I look down the ground is swimming. I stagger back a few steps. I take in a breath and let it out slowly and the light-headedness passes. Mum is in the garden sweeping up multicoloured streamers. I picture the moment everyone set them off with a bang last night, all at the same time. And now the mess that is left after that tiny moment of joy.
‘Seventeen is still a child in the eyes of the law, especially as he was an adult in a position of trust.’ I sit on the bed.
‘But he got away with it because he was a supply teacher on a short contract. Away from the school she was a consenting adult.’
‘Thinking back now, he was always friendly and flirty. I didn’t do anything with him back then except a kiss. He must have moved onto her straight after me and taken it further. I could be in Gemma’s position right now.’
I was flattered that he paid so much attention to me, always singling me out. I was desperate to please him and he must have known that. I started getting up earlier in the mornings, taking longer in the bathroom, doing my hair, making up my face in a natural way, emphasizing my eyes. I’d been out with a couple of the older boys, but Mr Adams, or Cole as he told me to call him, was so much more mature.
One day I got upset because of stuff going on at home. I confided in him that I didn’t know who my dad was and that sometimes my mum drank a lot and went out. When she came home, it was with a different man every time. Cole had put his arms around my shoulders, and it felt natural for me to put my arms around him too.
‘I’ll always be here for you if you ever need to talk,’ he’d said. I’d breathed in his Gio aftershave on his soft jumper. I felt so safe in his arms. I craved the protection and warmth he offered me when he held me like that. I was sorry when he pulled away, but he looked at me with those sea-green eyes that seemed to draw me in and wiped away my tears gently with his thumbs. He’d really seemed to care about me.
For ages after, there was an invisible barrier between us, as though neither of us intended anything to happen, but the tension in the air would have told you otherwise. I was the first to brush his hand with mine while reaching for a book. The feeling of touching his bare skin was electric, so much so my body jumped. He drew his hand away, but in the next moment, he stroked my cheek as his finger moved a strand
of hair from my face. His hand was trembling ever so slightly, but in that second, I knew he fancied me as madly as I fancied him. I touched his leg and he leaned over to me and shut his eyes and ever so gently his lips landed on mine. Mr Newman saw us and banged on the window, coughing loudly. We sprang apart, pretending nothing had happened. But Mr Newman beckoned to Cole. I left the library walking on air, all the way home.
Cole texted me the next morning that he had to leave immediately. His mother was sick, he said. I knew Mr Newman must have told him to go before he got the sack. I didn’t see him again after that. Until eight months ago.
I was underage, but he made sure his next victim wasn’t.
Chapter Sixty-Seven
12 August 2018
Scarlett
I press my forehead with the heel of my hand. I wish I hadn’t drunk so much last night. ‘Let’s go and help Mum finish clearing up, she’s out there on her own.’
As we come downstairs, Tina arrives to take Amy back to the B&B.
‘Hope you enjoyed your party.’ She hugs me.
‘It was fun, thanks.’
‘What’s the long face for then?’
Amy touches her forehead.
‘Oh, I see. Hangover.’ Tina laughs and hands me an envelope. ‘It’s not much, but I hope you like it.’
‘Thank you.’ I rip the paper off and take out a leather bookmark embossed with a rose. ‘It’s beautiful, thank you.’
Tina follows us out to the garden and helps Mum take down the bunting while Amy and I cook a late breakfast. Mum and Tina are chatting. I hope it’s the beginning of them being friends again. It’s weird them not getting along. When we were growing up, they used to share picking us up from pre-school then primary school. We spent so much time together, summer holidays to Devon and Wales, weekends away to Norfolk. We were like a family.
Amy switches the egg off and turns over the bacon and sausages.
‘How many more times?’ Mum suddenly shouts at Tina. ‘I’ve said no and I mean no.’
Amy and I stop what we’re doing and glance at each other. We can’t quite hear what Tina says back but she’s shaking her head, hands on hips. Neither of us wants to move nearer the window in case we interrupt them.
‘I’ve told you before, she must never know. Promise me, Tina.’ Mum’s voice is shrill and pleading.
‘It’s her right, Kelly, and you damn well know it.’ Tina kicks the plastic bucket that contained all the booze last night and marches into the kitchen. We pretend to be busy and unaware of them arguing.
‘We’re going, Amy, come on.’
‘What about breakfast?’ Amy looks longingly at the grill.
‘I said, we’re going. Now.’ Tina is talking to Amy, but her eyes fix on me for a long moment. Then she shakes her head and drags her gaze away.
I nod at Amy that it’s okay, even though she doesn’t have to go because she’s not a child, but I don’t want to add fuel to Tina’s fury.
The house is quiet when they’ve gone. Mum and I are left on our own with the radio on low in the background.
I dish up breakfast and we eat it slowly without speaking. I finish first and make filter coffee, all the time wondering what to say.
‘You promised you’d tell me something about Dad today.’ I stare into the empty mugs, waiting for her to bite my head off.
‘Not you as well.’ She puts away the butter and jam. ‘I’ll tell you one thing. Then don’t pester me for more, okay?’
I sigh and sit down. She sits opposite me and takes my hands in hers.
‘I’m sorry, but your dad did something I can never forgive.’
‘Is that it? Is that the best you can do? I think I worked that out for myself.’ I scrape my stool back, ready to stand up.
‘He did a terrible thing. Can we leave it at that?’
‘He’s still my dad. Why is it up to you to decide what I should or shouldn’t know? I’m not a kid any more. Is that what you were arguing about with Tina?’
‘It’s not going to do you any good knowing, believe me.’
‘Don’t you think I deserve the truth?’
‘She thinks I should tell you. But sometimes the truth destroys lives.’
‘Well, that’s for me to judge. You need to tell me where he is because it’s up to me if I want to see him, and you can’t stop me.’
‘No, I can’t. But I’ll tell you this much – he’s in prison for what he did, and I hope he rots there.’
‘What?’ I tip back on my stool and almost fall off.
‘This is why I didn’t want to tell you anything.’ She starts crying.
‘You may as well. I’m going to do my best to find out anyway.’
‘Please don’t go digging. I’ve tried so hard to keep him out of our lives.’
‘Is he in for a long time then?’
She raises her eyebrows but doesn’t answer.
I wander upstairs and have a shower then sit on my bed in a towel. How has my life come to this? In less than twenty-four hours the two men in my life have let me down. They’re both complete losers. If I have criminal blood in me, it’s time to see where it can get me. I FaceTime Amy.
‘Tomorrow’s the day.’
Amy puts her mug down. A knowing smile sparks up her eyes.
‘Cole is going to wish to God he hadn’t crossed me.’
Chapter Sixty-Eight
13 August 2018
Scarlett
I’m so looking forward to making Cole suffer. We check the laptop for the goings on in the nursery. Gemma is in there feeding the baby. She told me before she left work that she’s taking three weeks maternity leave then intends to go back to work part time for six months.
Amy and I go shopping for supplies first. I’m dressed in a plain T-shirt and jeans, my bank card in my back pocket, loaded with birthday money. We buy a sim-free pay-as-you-go mobile phone from Argos with enough credit for a week. I switch off our location. I want to be able to see what’s going on in the world, but I don’t want the world to find us. Amy will have to keep her laptop off but we can use my tablet. I stash everything in the boot of my car ready for later.
We check the nursery again and sure enough, Gemma has her shoes on and is dressing the baby in a T-shirt and terry-towelling shorts. I’m going to miss my shift this evening. I liked working there but I’ll be fired after today. We make our way down to the shops. It’s much busier than it normally is, which is good for us. Lots of kids running around with Peppa Pig or Paddington Bear helium balloons and a merry-go-round has been set up outside the library. A good distraction for mums and tots who otherwise might notice us. From our observations, Gemma seems to be a creature of habit, so we’re banking on her sticking to her new routine.
First, she goes into the baker’s and has a cup of tea. She sits in the same chair near the front and always dusts off her seat before she sits on it. If the baby is awake, she unstraps him from the buggy and cradles him across her knee. One of the waitresses brings over a small bowl of hot water. She sits the bottle in it for five minutes, then she feeds him. Next, she straps him back in the buggy and wanders a few doors along the high street to browse in the bookshop. By this time the baby is back to sleep, and it’s her opportunity to go food shopping.
While we’re waiting for Gemma to come back out, I text Mum to say I’m at a friend’s house tonight.
What friend?
Mum texts back.
Rachel. She was at my party, but I don’t think you met her. Amy’s with me too.
OK, let me know when you’re coming back.
Will do.
Except I won’t because that phone will be switched off. Maybe I could send her a text from my new phone? Better not.
I’m the first to spot Gemma coming out of the bookshop. She’s been browsing for ages. Amy stands up, walks around in circles, stabbing her finger at her phone. Gemma is carrying a paper bag full of books. She chucks it in the mesh basket under the pram.
I follow her roun
d the supermarket and before long she’s stressed out because the baby has woken up. By the time her basket is overflowing, the baby is full-on crying. Time to conveniently bump into her.
‘Are you okay?’ I touch her arm as she joins a long queue to the tills. She spins round and seems surprised but relieved to see me.
‘Oh, hello, Rosie. Bit frazzled with this little one. Taking some getting used to.’ She attempts to tidy her hair. Her face is pale without make-up and the circles under her eyes are purple, almost like bruises. I push aside the tiny tug at my heart and remember why I am doing this.
‘I never seem to make it round the shop before he wakes up. He always cries when the buggy stops moving.’
‘Poor little boy.’ I lean over him and pull a smiley face then offer him my thumb which he grabs hold of with his hot little hand. For a moment he quietens down. The second I take my hand away his cries go up an octave as if I’ve hurt him.
The queue is not moving. Everyone tuts when the cashier presses the buzzer for help. Gemma jiggles the pram back and forth. Now’s my chance.
‘Looks like a spillage,’ I say, leaning round the tall man in front.
‘Oh no.’ She looks at her basket of shopping then either side to see if there are any shorter queues.
‘Can I help at all?’
She looks at me in a daze. I wonder if she’s had any sleep.
‘I could push him round for you, see if he dozes off? I can wait for you outside, just by that bench?’
‘Oh God, could you? Do you mind?’
Not a moment’s hesitation.
‘Honestly, I’d love to. He’s so adorable.’
‘You’re a lifesaver.’ She smiles weakly and peels her handbag off the handle then watches me take hold of it, put my sunglasses back on and wheel him away. I turn round and wave and she waves back. My heart pitches at my deceit. I stroll towards the exit, aware that she’ll still be watching me for as long as she can. I pass Amy who pretends to be browsing the magazine stand. She will join me in a while, but she’s going to stay and watch, see what Gemma does when she can’t find me. If she tries to call my mobile, it will be switched off.
The Face At the Window Page 23
