I follow. ‘Brilliant; that’s great, well done. Wish I could have been there. I’ll make us something nice to eat, shall I?’
He nods. ‘Please, I’m starving.’ His mobile vibrates on the table; he lays it face down, disregarding the alert. I warn myself, stop reading into things. Trust.
‘Bet you are. There’s some cake left in the fridge, if you can’t wait. I’ll go and get out of these work clothes first.’
‘Nah… it’s fine. I’ll wait, thanks.’
‘Put the TV on, please, can’t stand the silence – oh, and can you feed Humph, please?’
I’m halfway up the stairs, when he calls out, ‘There’s already food in his bowl. He’s eating it now.’
I halt, remembering the scent from Humphrey’s fur. Remembering swilling out the food bowl, leaving it empty on the tray on top of the tumble drier, before I left this morning.
‘Is this window open for a reason? Can I shut it? It’s like an ice box in here.’
‘Which window?’
‘The one in the utility. It’s flipping freezing. Thought, Humph wouldn’t use the window? That’s why we needed a cat flap, you said?’
He doesn’t. He’s always refused to use it, even when I showed him how. He’d rather sit and wait on the window sill, in defiance, feeling sorry for himself.
I scramble back down the stairs to join Jack in the utility. ‘Let me see.’ I squeeze in beside him, with literally only enough room to swing a cat in here. I study the window. If someone was intent, they could have squeezed through it. It opens upwards on an angle; it’s just about big enough. But I didn’t leave it open; I know I didn’t. I wouldn’t have – for what purpose?
‘Just close it, please. I must have left it open, yes.’ I wander back into the kitchen. I should go and check upstairs. I don’t want to alarm Jack, so I take my chance whilst he’s busy with Humphrey.
I start with his room, throw open the wardrobe, look under the bed, all clear. Then the bathroom: nowhere to hide in there. The spare room is empty. Then my bedroom: no one under the bed, no one in the wardrobe. They’d have a job, with all my stuff crammed in. I sit on the edge of my bed, that feeling again. Am I reaching the edge of psychosis here? My dreams and imaginings are beginning to blur with reality. Is this you? I shiver at the thought. Surely, you wouldn’t fit through the window? Who else would it be, though? Whoever planted the envelope in my briefcase?
Jack sticks his head around my door.
‘By the way... and don’t start panicking.’
My heart skips a beat. ‘What, Jack? What is it?’
‘That car went past again.’ The look on his face tells me he’s obviously worried about it too.
‘That car? You mean…’
‘The 911. I’m pretty sure it was the same reg plate as the one last week. You know, coming from the beach?’
‘Where, Jack? Where did it pass you?’
‘Just outside now, heading down towards the beach. When I was walking through our gate.’
I jump up. ‘Stay here, I’m going to look.’
‘No way, Mum.’ He holds his hands out. ‘Please don’t.’
‘Jack, I have to. Stay here and lock the door.’
‘No, Mum, no. If you’re going I’m coming with you.’
‘Not a chance, you’re not.’
He stands blocking my doorway. ‘I’m bigger than you. I’m not letting you through without me.’
Those worried eyes, the same eyes as before. ‘Okay,’ I tell him. What am I doing? What I have to do.
We fasten our seat belts, no words between us, and set off for the beach. I haven’t even considered how I’m to handle this, if you’re there. You may have already left, be somewhere else by now. I flashback to the night I met Bea and Ruan in The Wheal; my blood runs cold. The mystery patron – to think we could have been sitting back to back. Then last night, a mere few steps away from you. All the dark shadows, outside the windows, every night since the start of the phone calls. In all honesty, each and every night, since I last saw you, you’ve never actually left my side, have you?
We pull down towards the cove, slowing to a crawl. I glance through the pub windows as we pass. The usual suspects loiter, but if you’re sitting at the table I won’t see you anyhow. Next to me, Jack clenches and unclenches his fists.
‘There.’ He points.
My stomach floats away; I see it. ‘I see it.’ A Porsche 911, sitting proud in the unattended car park overlooking the beach. What do I do now? I’m not quite ready. I wish to God Jack weren’t with me but, then again, I’m so relieved he is. I didn’t ever want for him to have to face you again, but maybe he needs to. We edge closer to the car.
‘There’s no one in it,’ he says.
A brief sense of reprieve flushes over me.
‘What now?’ he asks.
I look at him. ‘Not sure,’ I say, crawling at a snail’s pace. I park up, not more than fifteen feet from the Porsche. I can’t get any closer; this is too close as it is. ‘I’m going to have a quick look round.’ I undo my seat belt. ‘You stay here, Jack, please.’ Jack unfastens his seat belt, reaching out to release his door. ‘No, Jack, please. I promise I’ll not move more than a few feet from the car. I’m only going to have a quick look.’ He ignores me, stepping from the car anyway.
Together we walk the few feet to the steel railings overlooking the beach. It’s dark and so difficult to make anything out. I scan as far as I can along the beach and pathway beyond, dimly lit by the half-moon. Nothing. The Atlantic lashes at the rocks to our side, warning us to take a step back. I’m about to suggest we leave, when Jack taps my arm, making me jump. Placing his finger to his lips, informing me not to speak, he nods to the level below us, to the bench looking out to sea.
I lean over. Straining my eyes, I can just about make the solitary figure out. What? Why sit down there? What are you up to? Is this a coincidence? Or are you the driver of the car?
I indicate to Jack to backtrack and follow me back to the car. We ease the doors open, despite appreciating the noise of the sea will drown out anything we do, and climb inside.
‘Promise me you’ll stay here.’
‘Why? What now? It’s not him, so where are you going? Who is it?’
‘I’m not going anywhere. Well, only to confirm it is who I think it is, but you don’t need to be with me, okay. Lock the doors, though, after me.’
‘Who is it?’
‘It’s okay – it’s only one of my clients. I’ll be a minute or two, that’s all. Just need to check all is okay with them, so you can’t be with me. Do you understand? This time you stay in the car.’
He nods. ‘But I’m only giving you a few minutes, then, if you’re not back, I’m coming to find you.’
Gingerly, I tread the moonlit steps down towards the clash of the waves. Praying and hoping I’m doing the right thing. That Jack locked the doors as I told him to. That I’m correct in thinking, assuming, he was definitely alone down here? Or did I miss something? I catch my breath as a gust of wind pushes me off my track. Yesterday, I had my suspicions, standing with Susie. What am I doing? Did I miss something, a few moments ago, looking down in the dark?
You?
Chapter Thirty
Before
No going back, I said. And I didn’t, wouldn’t. Not even, as I told you… if it meant living in a shed, in a box, anywhere, anyhow.
Though I didn’t quite appreciate I was to spend so many hopeless years in the metaphorical box. It was edged with six walls. No windows, no natural light. Stale air hung low. The smell of foreboding suffocated. The taste of doom delivered bile to my dry throat.
But to touch vulnerable air excited you. An inward smile, an outward aura of invisibility.
We sat divided by the truth. The judicial process.