‘Thomas?’
He didn’t look up, his face now pressed into his hands. He looked wrung out, exhausted, his dirty, blood-flecked clothes hanging off his thin frame.
‘Thomas, you’re going to have to talk to me.’
‘I don’t need to be lectured by you,’ he replied suddenly. His tone was abrasive and harsh.
‘I’m not going to lecture you, but we need to talk. I know you’re upset, I know you’re angry, but you can’t go around doing things like this.’
‘Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do,’ Simms replied, now raising his eyes to Charlie. ‘He deserved it for what he did to my girls and as soon as I’m out of here I’ll be straight back round to finish the jo-’
‘He’s innocent, Thomas.’
‘Bullshit. You had him and you let him go. This is on your head, not mi-’
‘He didn’t start the fires. Any of them.’
‘Then who did?’
Charlie hesitated – unsure how best to respond – so Simms renewed his attack.
‘You haven’t got a clue, have you? You’ve been chasing your tails since day one.’
‘We’re doing everything in our power to catch the person responsible,’ Charlie countered. ‘But believe me when I tell you that you have just attacked an innocent man.’
Finally Charlie’s words seemed to land. Thomas Simms glared at her, but said nothing in response.
‘You could have killed him and where would that have left Luke? What would you have said to him when you were in the dock? When you were behind bars?’
Thomas stared at the floor once more. Charlie softened her tone:
‘I know what you’re going through, I know you have doubts about whether we can bring this guy in, but Luke has to be your number one priority now. You will have justice, I promise you that, but that is our job. Yours is to be with your son.’
Charlie braced herself for an angry comeback, but it never came. Thomas looked up at her sharply, but some of the fire seemed to have gone out of him now.
‘Don’t abandon him, Thomas. Don’t let your anger or your desire for revenge drive a wedge between you. Luke doesn’t want any of that. He just wants you.’
Thomas stared at her and then, from nowhere, tears came, running down his cheeks in thick streams. He wiped them away, but a dam had broken now and he crouched down on the floor, all the tension and misery of the last few days escaping, as his body shook with quiet sobs.
Kneeling down, Charlie put a comforting arm around him.
‘Go to him, Thomas. He needs you now more than ever and if you can help him through the days, weeks and months ahead, then you will have done your job. You’re all he has.’
Charlie had leads to chase and duties to fulfil but these were forgotten now as she held on to the man who thought he’d lost everything, but still had one very valuable prize to fight for.
102
It all felt alien and wrong. The last few hours had been a grotesque caricature of their ordered, settled lives, and try as they might to regain some kind of normality, life continued to frustrate them.
Jacqueline Harris’s nerves were shot. She was of course relieved that Ethan was largely unharmed, but their home was a smoking ruin, their nanny was dead and they now found themselves here – in a hastily rented apartment in Upper Shirley. They had taken it because it was large, available and close to their former neighbourhood, but standing here now in the bland, sterile space, Jacqueline suddenly felt they’d made a mistake. The whole place felt cold and unwelcoming.
Ethan had gone to bed to rest – he had a nice enough bedroom out the back with a good view – and Michael had stepped outside to call the nanny agency. She didn’t know whether it would fall to them or the agency to inform Agnieszka’s relatives of her death, but she had ducked the issue anyway, landing that one on Michael. She had enough on her plate already – dealing with Ethan, liaising with the insurance company, organizing a new home help, not to mention fielding the endless press calls and follow-up questions from the police. How had their life suddenly become this?
She’d tried to engage Ethan in conversation, thinking it was better for him to be occupied, but he’d only managed five minutes before flaking out. Leaving her alone in this horrible, unfamiliar place. She hoped that Michael would hurry up and come back. She’d never been very good at being on her own. She checked her emails again – a deluge of sympathy messages – and her BlackBerry for a third time. But it was all just distraction – an attempt to pretend that life was going on as normal. But who was she kidding? Someone had tried to kill their son last night, had razed their house to the ground, and she had no idea why. Would they strike again? Or had they achieved all that they hoped for last night?
Not for the first time today, Jacqueline craved a drink. She knew she shouldn’t – couldn’t – but she longed for one nevertheless. She was lonely, miserable and scared – and terrified of what was still to come.
103
Mandy Blayne was smiling, but it was all an act.
She had cooked Darren a full English as usual and he was wolfing it down opposite her. He never left a scrap and always said it was the best breakfast in Southampton. But that never made him stay. He had dropped several hints during the course of last night that he’d be moving on in the morning – he said it was work, but Mandy was sure that was a lie. She knew he had other women on the go. He always denied it of course, angered by the suggestion, but she could smell it on him when he arrived.
He often turned up unannounced, knowing he’d always get a warm welcome. Mandy was a fool to herself, she knew that, but she loved him. Pure and simple. She shouldn’t but she did. And when he did come, when he was here with her, things always seemed better. They’d have a few beers, watch a bit of TV, then go upstairs for a cuddle. And that’s where they’d stay – often spending a whole weekend in bed. Darren always joked that he needed a good breakfast in the morning to regain his strength after what they got up to.
This time had been different of course. She’d been building herself up to telling him she was pregnant since the moment he turned up on her door with a bunch of roses in his hand. He’d been away from her for nearly seven weeks and her depression this time round was compounded by the realization that she’d missed her period. She had put off buying a pregnancy test, hoping against hope that she was just late, but in the end she had to know. The positive result sent her mood plunging still further, then later when she’d had time to think, she’d half wondered if it might be a good thing. Was this the start of a different future for Mandy?
She’d meant to tell him before they had dinner. Then, having failed to do that, she vowed to tell him before they went upstairs. But when it came to it, she didn’t want to tell him, didn’t want to risk spoiling the evening, so they’d tumbled into bed together as usual. He never used protection, it never seemed to enter his head to do so. She thought she’d had this covered, but obviously she hadn’t.
After that the moment had passed. If she told him now, it would be like she’d sprung it on him. Accepted the flowers, the booze, the company and then handed him an unpleasant bill for his services. All her fond hopes that he might actually be pleased evaporated and she knew instinctively that he would run a mile if he thought she was trying to tie him down. She couldn’t risk that, so she said nothing.
She had decided to get it dealt with. She would go to the doctor and see what he could give her. He’d try to talk through the options, but she had made up her mind. She wasn’t ready to be a mother. Wouldn’t wish it on the poor kid anyway.