“God you think more of the bloody dog than you do of me.” A couple of passers-by gawped at them. Paul was past caring.
“Don’t you ignore me!” she yanked at his arm as he walked ahead of her. “Why are you ignoring me?” She grabbed the back of his jacket.
Pausing to face her, his jaw throbbed with anger. “You ruin everything, don’t you?” His tone was low and calm, as though chastising a child. “What the hell is the matter with you?” Emily stood several feet away, watching.
Michelle swung her bag upwards. The thud of the books she had bought was heard in his ears as the pain pounded within his cheek.
“She must have caught him with his pants down!” Someone sniggered as they ventured past them. Michelle stormed off. Paul sank onto a bench, gripping Carla’s lead. His face burned as he sensed everyone looking at them.
“Daddy, you’re bleeding.” Emily touched his face. “What’s made Mummy so cross?” Emily looked to be holding tears back and at that moment, he could have cried with her. Man or not.
“You alright mate?” A man of a similar age approached them. His partner frowned, clearly not happy with his involvement. “It must have been summat bad to deserve that from your missus!”
“Not a right lot.” He looked down at the floor. “I’m OK. I’d better go after her.”
“I’d leave her be if I was in your shoes.”
“Be thankful you’re not.”
“Come on.” His companion pulled at his arm. “This is none of our business.”
“Hope you sort it mate,” he called back over his shoulder, as he was dragged away. Paul watched for a moment, wondering what might have happened if roles had been reversed. If he’d been the one to welly Michelle with a carrier bag full of books. He was certain he would have been lynched by passers-by.
He hauled himself up and reached for Emily’s hand. “We’d better go and find your mother.”
“Can I have some sweets first Daddy? And we could buy some for Mummy to make her smile again.”
It was nearly an hour before they found her in a beer garden, enjoying the attention she was receiving from another table. It looked like it was occupied by a stag party. Paul watched for several minutes.
“Are we going to sit with Mummy?”
Michelle must have spotted her family watching her from the roadside. She stopped talking to the men and stared into her drink.
“That your bloke?” Paul heard one of them say as he, Emily and Carla ascended the steps and approached her table.
“Yes,” she muttered, rummaging in her bag.
“You said you were single.” The man looked at Paul, his voice trailing off.
Paul glanced at her ring finger. She must have slipped off her rings. He’d never known her to have done that. Maybe she did it all the time. Unbelievable.
“I lied.”
“I’m sorry mate.” His facial expression backed up his words. “I wouldn’t have been chatting her up if I’d known she was taken, honest. You wanna watch her. Arranging to meet me later, she was.”
“Thanks for letting me know,” Paul replied, clasping Emily’s hand. “I’m not blaming you.”
Michelle knocked a glass to the floor as she rose to her feet. Shards of glass splintered out in all directions. Paul jerked Carla out of the way whilst he and Emily leapt back. Michelle stomped off again.
“I hope you’re going to clear that glass up!” echoed a hostile voice from inside the pub.
“We need to go after your mother.” He ignored the voice as he noticed another member from the stag party staring at him.
“Has your missus done that to you as well?”
“No.” Paul raised his finger to his fat lip. “It’s a long story.” He backed away from the group. “I’ll leave you to it.”
As he ventured in the direction of Michelle’s departure, the words of the party rang in his ears. “It’s not too late to back out you know.” There was a collective chortle of laughter.
“I know,” he heard someone reply. “That little display was enough to put anyone off marriage.”
Why am I going looking for her? Paul thought to himself. Man up man! Instead, he led Emily back to the car and drove, on autopilot, back to the holiday park. She had all the money anyway. She could find her own way back, that is if she didn’t stay out all night on the pull.
Paul was calmer by the time she eventually returned. A beer had helped. “Have you eaten?” He searched her face for signs of trouble. “I’ve saved you some pasta.” He hated himself. Keen to appease her, he’d saved her some tea. What an idiot!
“I’ve had fish and chips.” Clicking the door behind her, she sat beside him. “Is Emily in bed?”
His heartbeat quickening, he forced himself not to move away from her. “Yep. She has been for a while. Where have you been?”
“You left me, remember?”
“What was I supposed to do? What were you playing at Michelle?”
“I don’t know. I’m sorry. I really am.” She squeezed a tear out.
“It’s not good enough. You made a right show of me.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t say it any more. I can’t turn the clock back.”
He stared absently at the TV. “I know you can’t. But you keep carrying on like this.”
“I’ll stop it. I promise. I’ll sort it out.”
“How?” He looked at her.
“I’ll organise some help.” She touched his hand. “I don’t want to lose you.”
God help me, Paul thought. She was making his head spin again. One minute she was whacking him in the mouth with a pile of books, the next, she was begging forgiveness. No wonder he was always mixed up and pissed off. “Where have you been? Even with catching the bus, you should have been back ages ago.”
“I’ve been watching a show in the club. I’ve missed you, you know. I was lonely.” She sidled closer to him again. “I am sorry.” Peering at her, Paul thought he saw genuine remorse.
“Right. Let’s somehow try and put it behind us.” Paul forced himself to drape his arm around her. “Fancy a cuppa?”
“I fancy something else.” She looked shyly at him, resting her hand on his thigh. “We need to get some practice in if we’re going to start thinking about baby number two.”
Paul wasn’t going there with that discussion, but silently willed his libido to return. He was only in his thirties. A couple of years earlier, he’d have been stood up like a lamppost at the mere mention of a sex session. Now she was literally having to persuade him. He gathered enthusiasm into his voice, not daring to refuse her this time. He squeezed her hand that was resting on his thigh. “Let’s lock up then you can show me how sorry you are.” He rose from the sofa, winking at her.
Chapter Thirty Three
Lee watches Alana as she pours herself a coffee. It is no longer with desire though. “Bit tarted up for court, aren’t you?” He doesn’t trust anything about her anymore; everything she says and does seems to be directed at one thing - Paul Jackson.
Pointing her toes into her stilettos, she then slides onto one of the breakfast bar stools with her coffee. She looks as though she’s ready for a night out. Lee recalls when she used to make that sort of effort for him. It’s like she’s given up. Nothing has been the same since they were given the verdict on the baby situation. Firing blanks … Jaffa. He’s heard it all. Not just from Alana either. Michelle had given him both barrels too when she’d turned up, five months before, throwing her accusations around.
He’d thrown open the door in response to her frantic banging on it.
“What the hell…”
“I’m looking for Paul,” she had said, breathlessly. Evidently, she had been running.
“Here? Why?”
“Don’t you know what’s going on?” She sank onto the porch wall.
“What do you mean?” Lee hoped she wasn’t going to say what he feared.
“Paul and Alana.” She was plainly in agony at having to place the name
s side by side.
“You’re talking bollocks.” Though maybe she knew something he didn’t. Lee was listening.
“I’m not talking bollocks, but funny you should say that.” She stood up again.
“What are you talking about?”
“Well you can’t give her a kid. Maybe she thinks my husband can.” She folded her arms and stared at him.
“How do you know that.” Heat rose in his face and anger pulsed in the back of his neck. What had Alana been saying?
“It seems she’s been confiding in my husband. About you firing blanks.”
“Do you have to be so awful about it? Quite a bitch, aren’t you? Alana’s right.”
“You haven’t answered my question. I’m looking for Paul.”
“You’ll not have any help from me.” And she wouldn’t. He couldn’t believe what she’d said to him. Firing blanks. He could have smacked her. And Alana.
“They’re carrying on with each other. Can’t you see it?”
Obviously, this scenario had crossed Lee’s mind loads of times. And right now, things couldn’t be much worse for them. He wanted to say to Alana, Leave me. Go and find someone who can give you a baby. But he wasn’t ready to throw his marriage away yet. “I don’t think so,” he said to Michelle.
“But you agree there’s a chance. Aren’t you bothered? Or are you too ashamed of being a jaffa?”
Lee’s face burned as he stepped towards her. “What did you call me?”
Michelle grinned. “You heard.”
“Get lost.” He clenched his fists by his sides. “Piss off from my house before I knock you out. You’ll get what’s coming to you.”
“What do you need to be in court for? I don’t know how you can bring yourself to be there.” Folding his arms, he studies Alana as she smooths down the page of the newspaper she is reading. On the outside, she’s beautiful. It’s a shame about what’s on the inside of her. “Shouldn’t you be at the office, helping Michael to keep everything going?”
“He’s in court as well. He’s sitting with me in the public gallery.” Alana meets her husband’s eyes with an air of defiance. “We’ve closed up the office for the week.”
“You’re a hard-faced cow.” Lee leans over her to pour his own coffee. “I don’t know how you can look at him.”
Taking a sip from her coffee, she leaves a crimson lipstick stain on the cup. “I don’t want to discuss this now. At the end of the day, it’s down to who the jury believes, not you.”
“I just want you to stop behaving like his groupie. I don’t know how you can bear to sit there.” The thought of it makes Lee sick.
“I’m supporting him. Just like he would support me if things were different.”
“I don’t know how much longer we can go on like this Alana.” He watches as she pins her long blonde hair into a bun in front of the hallway mirror.
“Leave it Lee.” Her mouth is set in a hard line.
Lee peers at the face that used to smile at him. It now belongs to a stranger. Once upon a time, she would have kissed him goodbye, but those days are a lifetime ago.
Chapter Thirty Four
Margaret assembles her gown around her bulky shoulders. “Mrs Duffy,” she begins. Firstly, let me express my sincerest condolences for the tragic loss of your daughter.”
“Thank you.” Susan sniffs as she tosses back her shoulder-length hair.
“May I call you Susan?”
“Yes.” She looks uncomfortable in her stiff blouse and jacket.
“Right Susan. I’ll begin by asking you about your daughter’s relationship with your son-in-law, Paul Jackson, back at the start of their courtship?”
“They were inseparable.” Susan fiddles with her neck chain as she speaks. “Paul was all she ever talked about. It drove me insane at the time, in a nice way of course; it was always Paul this-Paul that.” Her mouth bears traces of a smile as she continues. “They were so in love. Really happy. Within two weeks, Michelle moved in with him. I thought it was too soon and told her, but they were besotted with each other. Then a year or so later, they moved into a flat that they’d chosen together. I was pleased for them. They’d waited days to hear if their offer had been accepted. They then went out for the evening to celebrate.
Yes, thinks Paul, bitterly. But what you don’t know is she became drunk out of her brains, and slapped me, after becoming convinced I fancied some girl behind the bar.
It was the first hint of her violent tendencies but after several days of her tearful apologies, he forgave her and chalked it up to her state of inebriation. The making up had been amazing though – they had been in bed all day. And that’s how their relationship became. Awful rows but incredible reconciliations. The drama between them intensified. Paul thought that perhaps this is how things were when two people were truly in love. He hated Michelle’s jealousy and temper. But she was beautiful, clever and sexy. She became like a drug to him.
The smile drains from Margaret’s face as she continues. “When would you say it started to go wrong?”
“Things altered when Michelle became pregnant with Emily. Their happiness appeared to melt away. I suppose it happens to lots of couples.” She gesticulates wildly with her arms as she speaks. She always does when nervous. “Though I don’t think they ever returned to how they were, even after Emily was born. Michelle clung to me whilst she was pregnant, which was unusual for her.” Susan looks pensive at the memory. “She felt like Paul had abandoned her, she said he didn’t want to be around her anymore.”
“Did you think that was the case?”
“No.” Susan shakes her head. “I think a lot of it was inside her head, though I’m not saying he couldn’t have reassured her more. The weight was falling from her. Her face was gaunt, and she suffered with panic attacks.” She looks thoughtful. “What should have been the happiest months of her life were the darkest. Paul became detached and distant. Michelle couldn’t cope with what she thought was his rejection.” Susan looks straight at him. For a moment, it is like seeing the ghost of Michelle. Disappointment is etched across her face.
Paul stares across the room at his mother-in-law, still not believing she is speaking for the prosecution. But, as she’s already said, she doesn’t believe Michelle killed herself.
“I knew it was a lot for Paul to deal with,” Susan continues, still fiddling with her chain. “I thought things might improve after the birth.”
“But they didn’t?”
Susan shrugs her shoulders. “Paul was besotted with Emily. I can’t fault him as a father – I think she was holding him and Michelle together. I know he was doing his best.”
“Go on.”
“Michelle had a touch of baby blues. Paul didn’t know how to deal with her, that was a large part of it. I did what I could – well you do, don’t you?”
Paul had been grateful for her help and had, himself, been concerned about Michelle. He had never stopped trying to reassure and care for her.
“I’d go around when he wasn’t there.” Susan is projecting her voice now, seemingly more comfortable in the witness box. “Help her with the baby. Make sure she was eating. Help her with the housework.”
“What do you think Paul was doing when he wasn’t at home?”
“Working, well some of the time. To be honest, after Emily was born, he was at home less. And I know Michelle was worried about Paul’s work colleague.”
Shut up now Susan. Paul can’t believe it. She’s on one. Her mouth is running away with itself.
Susan glances up towards Alana in the public gallery, leaving no doubt as to which woman she is referring. “Michelle thought one of his friendships could be bordering on something else. I did try and talk her out of it.”
“But they married recently, didn’t they – Paul and Michelle?” Margaret’s voice has a sympathetic edge.
“That’s right.” Her mouth is fixed in a stiff line. “The wedding gave Michelle something else to focus on for a time. Her attention w
as more on that than worrying about what Paul might be up to.”
“What about the wedding day?”
Susan glances up at Paul now. Maybe she knows she’s saying too much. Maybe she doesn’t care. “He was late for the ceremony. I was beginning to think he was going to call it off. I don’t think she’d have been able to cope if he had. He seemed to wobble at the altar and looked, for a moment, like he was going to change his mind.”
“But clearly it happened. How were things after the wedding?”
“It didn’t really change anything. They both went to work and cared for Emily. But I got a sense they were arguing quite a lot. Michelle seemed to be losing all her confidence. Her opinion of herself was poor.”
“Did you ever try talking to Paul?”
“Not really. I wish I had. It can’t have been easy for him. Any of it. I did what I could for them. Especially with them having little Emily to take care of.”
“I’m sure you did.”
“There hasn’t been much mention of Michelle’s father,” Margaret says. “Apart from speculation. Can you tell us more about their relationship?”
“It wasn’t good.” Susan lowers her eyes and seems to shrink in stature. “Her childhood was spent listening to his unfavourable comparisons with her brother. Michelle would do anything for her father’s attention. He seemed indifferent, no matter what she did.”
“Did that continue as she grew older?”
“She didn’t see eye to eye with him or her brother. He left me eventually for someone else and my son went with him. He was nineteen by then anyway. They didn’t say goodbye to Michelle. They just went.”
“How did she take it?”
“Personally. And she blamed me. I blame me. I stayed with him too long. She watched him speak to me badly and thought it was acceptable. Then she had boyfriend after boyfriend who spoke to her badly too.”
The Man Behind Closed Doors Page 18
