“Cup-a-soup,” said Gus, coming back. “God bless Dave and his store cupboard. I remember this stuff from before I went away.”
“So, Jessie,” said Becky. “Will you make the call?”
“You’re calling the cops?” said Gus.
Becky’s face was a shadow as she looked at me. “Course,” she said. “Gus, can I ask you a favour? Can you go to Jessie’s and get the kids? Maybe keep them there for another hour or two. Give me a chance to get clean. Then bring them home? Here, I mean. I know we’ll have to move out now you’re back, but… ”
“You’ve got it,” he said, leaping up. Desperate to be doing something. He snatched the car keys I held out to him, repeated my address, and was gone.
“He’s a good guy,” said Becky. “He’s the real deal.”
“Will he work out why we wanted him to go right now if we don’t want the kids back till later?” I said.
She shook her head. “01387 253 555,” she said. “That’s our flat at Caul View.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” I said. “That’s the only place he can be.”
We didn’t really make a detailed plan, no synchronised watches or anything. We just both knew what had to be done and we did it. I called the number and Gav answered.
“Gus,” I said.
“How did you get this number?”
“Online,” I said, crossing my fingers and hoping he’d swallow it.
“How did you know I’d be here?” he asked. My heart sank. If he was suspicious of even that, we didn’t have a hope.
“I thought it was worth a try,” I said, trying to sound breezy. There was a long silence before he spoke again.
“What do you want?” he said. That seemed like a bit of progress! I tried to keep the tension out of my voice as I answered him.
“I’m sorry about earlier. I wanted to say sorry. And ask if you’re okay.” The next silence was even longer.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said, at last. “I said I trusted you with the kids. If you wanted to take them to your flat and let them hang out with a friend of yours, that’s fine.” In other words, I thought, that was something else to tell the police after I’d killed them. Something else to make me sound unsafe for kids to be near.
“I lost it today,” he said. “At the funeral. And you got the brunt of it. I can’t believe I spoke to you like that.”
“You know what I think it was?” I said. “You’re just flexing your muscles again. You’re only human. After what Becky did to you, it’s only natural you’d see what it felt like to do it to someone else if you got the chance. But look! You’re sorry already, aren’t you? You’re a good man, Gus.” Becky was giving me thumbs up.
“I love you,” Gus said.
“I love you too. Come home, eh? The kids are sleeping. Come home to me.”
I held my breath. The only thing that didn’t fit was that he shouldn’t have known where my flat was. I should be asking him how he knew where to come in Dumfries to find me. I wasn’t asking, and I didn’t want him to wonder why.
I was wrong. There were two things that didn’t fit. And he hit me with the other one.
“Why did you say the cops were at my place?” he said. I hesitated, and I think my face turned pale because Becky was suddenly still and alert, staring hard at me.
“I didn’t say that,” I told him. “Or I didn’t mean to. I meant that I was going to phone them and ask them to meet me at your place. I got the kids out of the way in advance, you know?”
“Why, though?” Gus said.
“I was going to tell them something. But I changed my mind.”
“Tell them what?” said Gus.
“I think I know why Becky killed herself. Finally.”
“Because Ros left,” said Gus.
“No,” I said. “Ros didn’t leave. Becky killed her. I found Ros’s phone at your house. In the basket by the washing machine.” He was so silent now that I thought the called had dropped. He’d forgotten about the phone. And he didn’t like making mistakes and people noticing them.
“Gus?” I said “Are you still there? I know it’s a horrible idea, honey. I know she’s the kids’ mum. But I really think it makes sense of everything. Ros is dead and Becky couldn’t live with the guilt.”
“Where did she dump the body?” he asked.
“Probably in the sea,” I answered. “I bet it turns up soon. Like that guy in the river.” I could have bitten off my tongue, but how to resist it? One of the reasons for luring him here instead of calling the cops on him was that I was dying to know how Gus had the bracelet if Gary Boyes had killed Wojtek.
“You’ve really forgiven me for all those things I called you?” he said. He was so close to biting down on the bait. Inches away.
“Of course,” I told him. “There’s nothing you can say to me that could change how I feel. I know the real you.”
“Okay, in that case,” he said. His voice had changed. “Who was that guy in your flat?”
“No one!” I said “A guy from the Project I’m letting use it because I’m staying with you. No one at all. God, if you’d ever seen him, you wouldn’t worry!”
There was another silence. And then I heard him let his breath go. “I’m on my way,” he said.
“I’ll see you soon. Drive safely, eh?”
“Christ,” said Becky, when I hung up. “That was brilliant. Remind me never to start a head game with you!”
“Are we really going to do this?” I asked her.
“Yes,” Becky said. “We really are.”
She had a shower, with me sitting on the toilet seat, just in case. She was still pretty wobbly. And after it, she and I went to the kitchen and looked through the cupboards. We tried out a few things but both settled on the same big black frying pan. Took a length of washing rope from the junk drawer too.
“I wish I felt stronger,” she said.
“Nah,” I told her. “You get to see his face. That’s the first prize. And you deserve it. Seven years to seven days? No contest.”
So she sat in the armchair facing the living room door, and I stood behind it. We closed the curtains in case he looked in. We heard the car. I gripped the pan handle and tried to breathe deeply. She managed to sit back in the chair and keep her face calm. She was amazing. She wasn’t even gripping the arms. The front door opened.
“Hiya,” he shouted.
“Hi,” I shouted back. Shit! I hadn’t been expecting to talk. I sounded-
“Jess?” he said. “You sound-”
He opened the living room door.
“Hello, Gavin,” said Becky. She sounded perfect.
I was too slow. I thought he’d be pole-axed, but he sprang forward, grabbed her arms, brought her down. I jumped over the coffee table, swung the pan, he took his teeth out of Becky’s neck-he’d bitten her!-and started to turn and so it was his face, not his head, that I hit. And I felt the soft collapse of a cheekbone. He grabbed the pan. He wasn’t out. He was rearing up, standing, holding Becky up beside him. I heard a sound like a sword being drawn. He spun around as she lifted the poker from the brass stand and brought it whistling through the air to his skull.
And then he crumpled. He folded, knocking against the table and shifting the chair with a shriek of its casters on the floor as he went down. We stood over him, both of us gulping and panting. Then I blinked and peered closer at Becky’s neck.
“He broke the skin,” I said. “You’re bleeding. I should-”
“There’s no time,” she told me. “Tie him. Quick!” I wound the rope round his ankles and his wrists, knotted it, got the brown tape from the sideboard drawer and covered his mouth-God, he bit her!-then I took his ankles and dragged him to the door and outside, and between us we dragged him over the turf, watching his head bumping on the tufts, seeing his hair knotting and ripping.