‘You’re looking at it from the wrong perspective. It’s not about you. It’s about what’s going on in here.’ Theresa tapped the side of her forehead. ‘Besides, you need to be talking to each other, not me.’ She gave me a look that suggested she knew more than she was letting on. I knew I was pushing the boundaries of our friendship, going behind Emma’s back for advice.
‘She’s not sleeping,’ I said, my voice wracked with concern. ‘And when she does, she’s plagued with nightmares. She’s paranoid too, thinks the world is out to get her. I’ve searched online. Apparently, eating disorders can be sparked by mental health problems. What if there’s a more serious underlying cause? I can’t relax when she’s with Jamie. I’m scared of what might happen when they’re alone.’
‘What are you going to do? Keep her under house arrest?’ Theresa said.
I thought of how difficult I’d found it to let Emma take Jamie to school that morning. ‘Of course not. I just want to keep both of them safe.’
Theresa nodded glumly. ‘I’ve spoken to her about her eating, but I’m not sure if she’s in control any more.’
My throat felt tight as I swallowed and I took a mouthful of coffee to ease the passage of my words. ‘I knew she had problems when she was young but I didn’t realise the full extent. And all this stuff with Luke. She thinks he’s coming to get her. Do you think he could be stalking her again after all these years?’ I wanted to tell her about my meeting in Leeds, but I needed to gauge her reaction. She was Emma’s sister, and her loyalty must surely be with her.
Theresa took my hand. ‘Come on now, that’s silly talk. Luke’s not back – Emma’s just being paranoid. You’re a strong man, Alex; you’ll get through this.’
I squared my shoulders. Theresa was right. I had to find a way to fix this. ‘I’d hoped that, when we moved, we could start again. But the nearer we get to leaving, the worse things become.’
‘You can’t walk away from your demons,’ Theresa said, her eyes glazing over. ‘They’ll catch up with you in the end.’ She seemed to snap out of her trance and took a deep breath. ‘I don’t make a habit of interfering in people’s relationships, but I’m not going to stand by and let everything fall apart.’
I rubbed my chin, feeling two-day-old bristles. I was in dire need of a shave. ‘She got a silent call when I was in Leeds. She said you had some sunflowers delivered to the shop too. She thinks history’s repeating itself and Luke is to blame for Jamie almost getting run over.’ At the mention of this, Theresa’s face turned grim.
‘She told you all that?’ She frowned. ‘You don’t want her going back there. What happened with Luke affected us all.’
‘Well, she told me something,’ I said. ‘And I hate to say it, but I’m not sure how much of it is the truth.’ I repeated Emma’s account, apart from the murder, of course. I desperately wanted Theresa to say it was true, that her sister had been a victim in all of this. Perhaps then I could move on, forget about what Luke Priestwood had said, and put all thoughts of Jamie not being mine behind me.
Theresa sipped her coffee, her elbows at right angles, her body tense. As I finished the story, I searched her face for answers. Her jaw was set tight, her gaze on the table. I knew without asking that my wife had been lying to me.
‘The thing is,’ I said, ‘I’ve heard other things about Emma and Luke, and it’s a completely different account. Believe me, I’d love to forget the whole thing. But now it’s affecting our family – even social services are involved. I have to keep digging until I find out what’s going on. This is where I need your help. Nobody knows Emma like you do.’
Theresa shifted in her seat. ‘I can’t bear to see what’s happening to the three of you. But if you tell Emma what I’ve said, she won’t confide in me again.’
‘We both want what’s best for her. Please. You have my word. Whatever you tell me is strictly between us.’ I realised my voice was pleading, and in a way, I was dreading what she was going to say.
Theresa opened her mouth to speak, then paused as a group of noisy teenagers passed our table in search of somewhere to sit. Chairs rattled as they took a seat in the corner, and when they were finally out of earshot, she spoke. ‘There’s someone very important that we have to remember in all of this, and that’s Jamie. I don’t want him growing up like Emma did, in a disruptive household with a mum and dad arguing all the time. It was easier for me because I was hardly ever there. I’ll always regret not watching out for Emma. But it’s not too late for Jamie. He’s entitled to a normal upbringing, and I don’t want to see him suffer.’ She leaned forward, narrowing the gap between us. ‘I’ve watched Emma bounce back all her life. But with all of this going on, I don’t think there’s any more bounce left. You’re right. She needs help.’ Theresa rested a hand on my forearm. ‘You’ve got to get away from that house.’
‘I will, but first of all, I need to know what happened with Luke.’
She nodded her head solemnly. ‘Will you promise to stand by her? To keep the family together? I can’t bear to think of her raising Jamie alone.’
‘Of course. You know how much they mean to me. I wouldn’t be meeting you if I had any intention of leaving.’
Theresa drew her hand away and took her jacket from the back of her chair. ‘Then I think it’s time you knew the truth. But not here. Let’s go for a walk.’
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
EMMA
2017
His eyes wide with excitement, Jamie had revelled in our bus excursion to Colchester. I felt compelled to use public transport, much to Alex’s relief. I saw the way he had been looking at me, observing my behaviour for clues that I was going mad. I regretted my confession and all the intimate moments when I had discussed my eating disorder, telling him about the voice in my head. Everybody heard voices, and most were like mine, brutal and unkind. I only had to listen to my clients in the bridal shop as they chatted about diets and body image to know where their harshest critics lived. But I had to maintain control. What happened to Jamie must never happen again. As I walked into town, PC Bakewell’s words rebounded in my memory. I would not be so lucky the next time around. For now, Jamie was safely ensconced in nursery school, seemingly none the worse for wear. A flush had risen to my chest as I explained our near miss to Mairead, the nursery head. She had treated me with compassion, offering to hold another teddy bear’s picnic to make up for the one Jamie had missed. Such warmth had not been extended by my husband. I knew he was trying not to blame me for the incident in the car park, but I sensed an underlying resentment just the same.
The problem with having something precious was the very real fear of losing it, and as I checked my phone, I was more aware of that now than ever. I opened up the ‘friend finder’ app to check Alex’s whereabouts, praying that I was wrong. He had said that he would be spending the day in his old office, tying up loose ends before returning to his new role. But the map on my phone stated he was in Costa Coffee in town. I bit my lip as I sent a text.
Jamie’s fine. He loved the bus ride. Did you get to work OK? Love you. XXX
The response was almost immediate, stopping me in my tracks.