Deciding I’m not going to let Alison make me feel even worse, I focus on the hunger pangs I need to stifle. But when I open the fridge to check what’s in there, already knowing all the food will be Alison’s, I’m shocked to find it completely bare. Nothing but a yellowing milk stain in the door compartment where the bottles are usually kept.
Even though I already know what I’ll find, I check all the cupboards, just to be sure, and it’s the same story. Completely empty other than a few mugs and plates, all of them chipped.
I let out a howl of laughter – because this is the best Alison can do. I’ve been beaten half to death, threatened with worse, and she thinks getting rid of all the food in the house can even bother me?
My hysterical shrieks echo around the flat, and I can only imagine what she is doing now, holed up in her bedroom, wondering why I’m not reacting the way she expected me to.
And when I finally calm down, the realisation dawns on me that this situation is actually not funny at all.
Alison Cummings clearly has issues, and I’m stuck here living in this place with her.
Chapter Fifteen
Mia
* * *
How different it is this time, to be sitting across from this woman. This time I am ready for whatever Alison will throw at me. I am armed with the ammunition Dominic provided me with – even though I still don’t know who to believe, at least it’s something to fall back on, if necessary.
I’m still Alison’s counsellor so I need to tread carefully, and if she does need my help then I will be there for her.
‘I can only imagine what you must think of me,’ she says, staring at her hands. Her fingers are long and thin, spindly veins showing through the skin. But today she’s not dressed as if she’s in mourning, although I notice her dark purple shirt clashes with her hair.
‘I’m not here to judge you, Alison. I just want to help you, that’s all.’ I can’t tell her that Dominic came to see me – it would undoubtedly freak her out – so I have to let her do this at her own pace. Hopefully, she will admit to me that she’s been lying about everything, and that this has got nothing to do with Zach after all.
Her eyes narrow. ‘And this is all confidential? Even after… last time?’
I nod. ‘Nobody outside these walls will ever know what we’ve spoken about. Unless, of course, I feel you may be a threat to yourself or others. Then I will have no choice but to inform the police.’
She stares at me, unblinking. ‘I’m the last person who’s a threat to anyone, believe me.’
It’s hard to imagine, but just because she is small and frail-looking, it doesn’t mean she isn’t capable of harming anyone. People are never what they seem. I know that better than most. ‘So you asked for this appointment, Alison. Can you tell me why you wanted to see me again?’
She picks up the cup of water I’ve poured for her but puts it down again untouched, clearing her throat as if she’s about to deliver a carefully rehearsed speech. ‘Last time I came here I was fully intending to tell you everything. It wasn’t a game or some sick joke, I would never do that to anyone. But once I started talking, I got… scared. Actually, terrified. I thought it would be a relief to come to you with it but it made me feel worse. Talking to you about your husband, it was suddenly too hard. But I couldn’t take the words back.’
So, as I feared, she is here to talk about Zach, not to seek my help for her issues, something I could do much more easily. She’s not going to let this go, so maybe Dominic was right: she’s clearly disturbed and needs help. But what if she’s telling the truth? I need to know, even if it means letting her gouge out my wounds so I feel the pain all over again, ten times worse. She looks questioningly at me and I nod for her to continue.
‘The thing is, I need your help, and I think I can help you too. I know that sounds strange but you’ll understand when you know everything.’
‘What is it I need to know, Alison? Can you tell me now?’ Or will you just run away again? Jump up and sprint to the door before I can even blink.
She takes a deep breath and her bony shoulders rise and fall. ‘Can you promise me you’ll just let me talk without interrupting? That you’ll hear everything I’ve got to say before you make up your mind?’
‘That’s what I’m here for, Alison.’
‘Okay. What I said to you last time is true: I don’t think your husband killed himself.’ She stares at me now, waiting for a reaction, even though seconds ago she asked me to just let her speak. ‘You need to see this and then you’ll understand.’ She reaches into her bag and I shift backwards, unsure what she’s about to draw out of it.
But it’s only her mobile phone. She taps away at it and turns it towards me as a video starts to play. To start with I’m not sure what I’m looking at but then I realise it’s someone’s computer screen, and the name on the log-in box is Dominic Bradford’s. Then Alison’s slender hand appears, tapping keyboard buttons and jiggling the mouse until she’s brought up a photo library.
I stare at the photos – there are hundreds of them – sickened by the thought of what I might see. On the video she scrolls through them. Unknown faces smiling and posing. Places I’ve never been. And then a bright young face I know only too well appears, and Alison pauses the video.
Josie Carpenter.
The girl people think Zach murdered.
Her face is too close to the camera, a mocking smile spread across it. Alison pauses the video.
I don’t understand. ‘What… what is this, Alison?’
‘This is Dominic’s computer. It’s usually password protected and he never leaves it on, but a few weeks ago I found he hadn’t turned it off when he went out. So I looked through it. And when I found this photo I started filming the whole computer. Just so I could prove this photo was on it.’
‘But—’
‘You recognise her, don’t you? Just like I did. But there’s no reason why Dominic should have a picture of her on his computer. But there it is, and it must have been downloaded from his phone. He didn’t even know her. At least, he’s never admitted that he did. Clearly they knew each other, though.’
A cloud of fog swirls around my head as I try to make sense of what I’m seeing and hearing. But seconds tick by and nothing becomes clearer.
Impatient for my response, Alison continues, ‘Mia, you have to help me. I think Dominic might have had something to do with Josie’s murder.’
I’m stunned into silence by her words. The police could never determine what happened to Josie Carpenter. There was enough of her blood in her flat for them to suspect she’d been killed, but in the absence of a body, nothing could be proved. Their thinking was that whoever did it – Zach, in their eyes – probably killed her somewhere else, a place they could easily dump her body. And even now, five years later, they still haven’t found it. They’re probably no longer even looking, especially as their main suspect is dead.
I try to control my breathing. ‘But… I don’t understand what you’re telling me, Alison. So he’s got a photo of her – that doesn’t necessarily mean anything.’
She holds the phone out again. ‘But it might if it was taken on the same day it happened. Look, keep watching.’
And sure enough, the next part of the video shows the date that’s etched in my memory. The day my husband was taken from me. From my daughter.
The familiar panic rises in my body but I need to control it, stifle it until I can be alone and let it temporarily take over. I’ve learned that’s the only way to deal with these attacks.
‘Do you see?’ Alison says.
I nod but I can’t speak.
‘Mia, I’m so scared. After everything Dominic’s done to me, and now I’ve found this.’
Dominic’s words swim around my head. Is Alison so disturbed that she’d concoct this story, even the evidence? But the computer is clearly Dominic’s, and the picture was added on the day Zach died. I don’t think she could have planted it on there, but I’m no technical expert.