He was so angry with Amy.
But then, as always, his thoughts came back to the fact that nothing was her fault. She, more than anyone else, was the victim in this.
He was not that far away from the street where she’d been snatched. He wondered if it would be cathartic to go back there, or whether he would be torturing himself by retracing the steps of a journey that was immeasurably painful the first time around. He had no fucking idea. No clue about the rights and wrongs of any of this.
He leaned against the balcony railing and breathed in the fresh morning air, trying to think of the way forward. Maybe the problem was that he was letting things happen; the empathy he had for everyone else was colouring every action he thought about taking, converting them to inaction. In fact, his decision-making abilities seemed so far to have been paralysed.
But not any more.
He stood back from the railing, stretched, and headed inside.
Amy was asleep, a mound under the sheets, her face buried in the pillow. Alex grabbed his phone and went down to the lobby.
Chloe’s mobile rang until her voicemail cut in. He had forgotten it was late at night there; she might well be asleep. The soft, cheerful sound of her voice made him unbearably homesick. After the beep, he tried to leave a message.
‘Chloe, I’m so sorry about all of this. I -’ He paused, trying to think of what to say. ‘I want to explain, please give me that chance -’ He didn’t know what else to add, so in desperation he hung up and tried the number again, not expecting an answer, but then heard a click as it connected.
‘Alex?’ Chloe’s voice came on the line, low and cautious; for him it was like water on parched skin.
‘Thank god. Chloe, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?’ There was a pause. ‘No, of course not. Stupid question. Did you get any of the messages I left? I’ve wanted to talk to you so much; to explain. I shouldn’t have left like that -’
‘I deleted a lot of the messages, Alex. I was too upset to listen to them.’ She sounded weary and reserved. Not like her usual self at all. He cringed at having done this to her. To them.
‘Okay, then I need to tell you – we’re in Australia because there’s a trial – for the murder of another girl. It’s the same people, Chloe… Amy wanted to come back… she’s completely alone; I felt I owed her this. And it was now or never. Last time I let her down… this time I wanted to do something… These monsters need to get put away.’
‘And what do you think you’re doing to me now? For god’s sake, Alex – Australia?’
He didn’t know what to say to that.
‘Just how long are you planning to be in Australia? Why haven’t you called before?’ she said, still sounding tired.
‘I know, I’m sorry,’ he began. ‘It’s just, it’s hard to get a moment alone…’
He trailed off, but she didn’t miss a beat. ‘Please don’t tell me you’re sharing a room with her, Alex.’ There was an edge to her voice, and his mind was shouting, Lie, lie, don’t let her think this of you, but the words wouldn’t reach his mouth, so, stupidly, he paused for too long, until saying anything would have been worthless.
There was an almighty silence. Then he heard her voice again, and it was cracked with rage. ‘And what about a bed, Alex, are you sharing a bed too?’
‘NO! Chloe, don’t…’ he said, but the line was already dead.
He remained frozen for a moment with the phone dangling uselessly from his hand. Then a wave of weariness crashed over him, and he headed back to the hotel room, lay on his bed, and tried to rein in his rising emotions.
After what seemed like hours, sleep finally descended on him.
When he woke up, Amy was dressed and sitting by the window.
‘What time is it?’ he asked, trying to clear the fug from his head; remembering with a pang that his conversation with Chloe hadn’t been a dream.
‘Half-past twelve,’ she replied.
‘Bloody hell.’ He ran his hand over his face, slowly coming to. ‘How long have you been awake?’
‘A while.’ She wouldn’t look at him.
‘Amy?’
She remained stone-still.
‘Amy, look at me.’
Slowly, she turned her head. His heart sank. Her face was stricken and tear-stained.
He got up and dressed in silence, while Amy continued to stare out of the window. Then he put his hand on her shoulder.
‘Let’s go and get something to eat.’
She shook her head.
‘Amy.’ His tone lowered as he barked at her, his patience thinning. ‘It wasn’t a question. Come on, let’s go.’
When she lifted her head, she looked taken aback. But she did as he said, getting up and slipping her shoes on, and they headed out the door. This time, Alex was determined to excavate right to the bottom of all their secrets, and uncover some answers.
80
They bought sandwiches and drinks and headed down to the river, finding a spot on the foreshore away from people, listening to the raucous cockatoos flapping from tree to tree. They were alone, except for the occasional walker or cyclist briskly crossing their path.
‘Last night -’ Alex began.
Amy held up her hand. ‘I’m sorry, I was drunk.’
‘Yes, well, for a start that isn’t like you -’
She bit back, indignance hammering against her throbbing hangover. ‘Alex, really, how would you know what’s like me? You haven’t seen me for ten years! You’re now a married graphic designer; how the hell do you know what I’ve become?’
What on earth have I become, she thought as she finished, momentarily quaking inside.
‘Okay, point taken.’ He paused, took a deep breath. They both knew what was coming. ‘But, Amy, you said – you had a baby?’
She nodded, staring out across the flat water of the river.
‘So it’s true?’ Alex said softly.
She nodded again.
Another long, weighty pause. Then, ‘Was it mine?’
She shook her head. She wouldn’t look at him; she didn’t want to see his expression. She couldn’t believe there were more tears left in her, but here they were again, falling silently down her cheeks.
‘Amy,’ he said, and before he could ask any more, she was compelled to start talking.
‘You don’t understand at all,’ she said quietly. ‘Being… attacked like that… it causes scars that can’t ever fully heal. But it’s more than just a few marks on your body or in your head. In that one day, I lost everything. My self-confidence was gone. My trust in people was gone. I lost my parents, who didn’t see me as their innocent girl any more, but as their daughter “the victim”. I lost my friends, as I couldn’t face any of them. I felt like what had happened was written all over me, that people knew how disgusting and violated I was as soon as they looked at me. I felt worlds apart from everyone; I couldn’t even understand what I’d ever had in common with anyone.’
Her voice was unnaturally high, breaking as she spoke. Her throat felt heavy with the truth of what came next as she looked at Alex. ‘And I lost you.’
Alex tried to meet her eyes, but he could see too deeply into them. He flinched and bowed his head.
‘We lost each other,’ he said to the grass. ‘And I know that there’s nothing I can say to put that right.’
But she was not ready to be silent and listen to him.