The detective looked at them and seemed to decide that they really shouldn’t have this conversation in an open space. They were quickly led down a labyrinth of corridors to a small, featureless room, with chairs around a meeting table and a water dispenser in one corner. Alex went over and filled two white plastic cups, returning to the table with them. Amy sat down and drank greedily, her throat objecting to the sudden coldness sweeping across it. Alex silently took her empty cup, got up again and refilled it for her.
The detective closed the door, and came to sit opposite them. ‘How are you, Amy?’ he asked. The concern on his face seemed genuine. ‘I’ve often thought about you, you know.’
She tried out a smile. It didn’t work. ‘I’m okay,’ she said quietly.
‘You’re here to see these men get put away,’ he said, a statement, not a question.
‘We thought it would be a good idea,’ she replied, putting her head in her hands. It felt far from a good idea right now.
She looked up again and the detective was nodding, but he didn’t say anything.
‘Will they?’ Alex asked, urgency in his tone. ‘Do you think they’ll be found guilty?’
They both watched Detective Thompson intently. He nodded. ‘They will,’ he said, no trace of doubt showing on his face. ‘Of course, the law can be strange… unpredictable at times. But unless something happens that we haven’t anticipated, and I can’t for the life of me think what, then this case is cut and dried. They’ll be in prison till they’re old men, if not until they die. Amy…’ he reached across and put his hand over hers, and she concentrated on not snatching it away, ‘… I think you were right to come,’ he said.
‘I don’t think I can stay, though,’ she replied, still staring at his hand on top of hers. ‘I thought it would be good seeing them there, but… the details… I can’t…’ She took her hand from under his and smoothed her hair down over her ears.
‘Amy -’ Alex began, but the detective held up his hand.
‘I can understand that, Amy.’ He paused and appeared to be thinking. ‘But the case is nearly over. The defence has almost finished, closing arguments won’t take long. Why don’t you stay in Perth, rest a while, and when the verdict is announced I’ll make sure you’re here for it.’
This sounded like something she might manage. She nodded. ‘Okay. Thank you.’
‘Of course.’ Detective Thompson got up. ‘Just give me your number.’
Alex pulled out a business card. ‘My mobile works here,’ he said, handing it over. ‘And we’re staying at the Crowne Plaza.’
The detective nodded. They shook hands.
‘Thank you,’ Alex said.
‘No problem. I’ll be in touch. It’s good to see you.’ Detective Thompson put a hand on Amy’s shoulder briefly as he left. He turned at the door. ‘If you haven’t already, Amy,’ he said, ‘phone your mum, love.’
Then he was gone.
By the time they got back to the hotel it was early afternoon, and jetlag was catching up with them.
‘What do we do now?’ Amy asked.
Alex looked embarrassed. ‘I might sleep for a few hours, then see if I can reach Chloe – if I leave it till teatime here, it’ll be early morning there.’
Amy nodded, then watched him lie on his bed and fall asleep. She was tired too, but she knew she’d never drift off, not after today. She couldn’t stop thinking about the court. The horrible details. That stupid witness. Those men… their blank, unrepentant faces…
Before she knew it, the bottles in the minibar were all empty.
She was sitting on the floor beside her bed, unsure how she had ended up there. She reached to try to get up, and sent an object crashing to the ground. She put her hand back down on the floor and felt a sliver of glass biting into it. As she watched, a red stream began to course along one of the lines in her palm.
In no time, it seemed, there were arms around her, pulling her up. Alex’s hair was ruffled, his eyeballs pink with tiredness. She watched as he looked down at the shards of glass on the floor, and then he picked her up and carried her the short distance to the tiny cubicle of a bathroom.
‘Thank you,’ she said wearily, over and over.
‘It’s okay,’ he shushed her. He sat her on the toilet and pulled her arm towards the sink tap, within easy reach. He washed the blood off and took a good look at her hand. ‘It’s not so bad,’ he said. ‘I’ll wrap it up.’
Once he had wrapped it in a flannel belonging to the hotel, he carried her back to the bed. She noticed a smear of blood on his neck.
‘Rest, Amy,’ he told her.
She tried to sit up, but her head had drums inside that began a frantic banging in response to the movement. She quickly lay down again. The fog in her brain was welcome; she much preferred it to clarity right now.
‘Sssh, Amy.’ Alex was stroking her hair. His voice became sludgy as she began to drift towards unconsciousness.
And then she told him. Why at that moment, she didn’t know. But she just couldn’t continue holding on to it alone any longer.
‘I had a baby, Alex,’ she whispered, pausing. ‘And then I did a terrible, terrible thing,’ she added, just before the world went black.
78
Chloe was at the office and finally getting down to some work, grateful that when she’d woken that morning she had felt a little better. She started to believe that if she didn’t think too far back or too far ahead, she could do this, she could ride out this period of uncertainty without completely falling apart. In fact, she began to feel strangely empowered. The situation with Alex couldn’t turn her into a wreck. Work couldn’t break her. The baby was too important for her to come undone. No, when Alex returned, he’d be surprised to find her more confident, more self-assured, and more composed. No more doubting, no more worrying. She was done with that. She had found a way through.
And then the phone rang.
‘Chloe?’
It took Chloe a couple of seconds to place the voice. ‘June?’
‘Yes, Chloe.’ June’s voice sounded nervous.
‘Is it Mum?’
‘Yes, I’m afraid so. She’s in hospital.’
‘Oh my god,’ Chloe cried. ‘What’s happened?’
‘I’m not sure, they think it might be a heart attack,’ June whispered. ‘I’m so sorry, Chloe. We’re on our way there now.’
Chloe was already standing up, throwing things into her bag. ‘I’m on my way too,’ she said, ascertained exactly which hospital they were heading for, and hung up.
Even in the face of something so urgent Chloe baulked at telling Neil she was leaving the office again. The whole sorry mess of her life felt like it was crashing down on top of her once more. She fired off a brief email to Neil before she switched her computer off, then hurried out of the building after a quick word with Jana, praying she wouldn’t bump into anybody else, and grateful at least for that small mercy when she got outside unchallenged.
It took forty-five anxious minutes on the stop-start tube for her to reach home. At least once she was in her car and driving she felt more in control, with something practical to keep her occupied, although all road sense seemed to have deserted her and she had about half a dozen near misses. She was surprised there weren’t any blue flashing lights behind her yet, as she had taken no notice of any speed limits, going as fast as the traffic allowed. So much so, that now she had nearly reached Kendal, where the hospital was located, in what must have been record time from London.
Her phone began to ring as she negotiated a roundabout, and she pulled it out of her bag, her eyes darting back to the road and adjusting her steering as she veered towards the kerb, but not wanting to stop.
She snapped it open without looking at the caller. ‘Hi.’