‘Hello?’ I breathed, trying to calm my voice in case it was Alex on the line. Yet even as I awaited a response, I knew he would have called my mobile phone. Just when I decided it was another silent call, a voice spoke from the other end. It was faint and muffled, torn by the backdrop of the wind. I held my breath as the words were delivered . . . ‘Let me in, little puppy, your master has come home.’
‘No,’ I gasped in horror, using both hands to slam down the phone. It was only then that I heard the banging noise coming from our front door. I stumbled through the darkness, flicking on every light to ease my discomfort. But as soon as I approached the door, the thumping stopped. It wasn’t Alex, it couldn’t be. But I felt his absence keenly and had summoned up enough courage to approach the door when a dreadful rapping noise of fists on glass filled the air. My heart beat like a jackhammer, and I could physically feel the sudden rush of adrenalin pumping through my veins. I jumped as a sharp rap rebounded against the back door. I needed my phone but my mind was hazy, and I could not remember where I’d left it. I leaned against the wall as I tried to focus my thoughts. I needed a weapon.
Running into the kitchen, I had every intention of grabbing a knife, anything to protect Jamie. That’s when I saw a hooded figure pressed against my window. I screamed, dropping the knife to the floor.
Just like before, I blinked and the figure had gone. Anger rose from within me. I picked up the knife and gripped the handle tight. Thinking back, I don’t know what possessed me. I had felt trapped in a nightmare, my thoughts disjointed, but my resolve was fierce. I had to strike first, because this time Luke would not be satisfied with sex or telling my husband all. Murder was the only form of punishment that would satisfy him now. I opened the back door and ran into the night with the knife held high, screaming at Luke that I was ready for him. But the only sound was Jamie crying from inside the house. I jogged around the house, returning to the kitchen door, realising too late that I had left it wide open.
‘Mummy?’ Jamie spoke from the hall, tears streaming down his face. Shoving the knife in the drawer, I locked the back door, realising what I had just done. I had frightened my son to death and acted like a madwoman. ‘It’s OK,’ I said, my hands trembling as I pulled him towards me. ‘I’ve chased the bad man away.’ That’s why he was crying, wasn’t it? Because he had heard the banging too? As a key was shoved in our front door, my heart stalled in my chest. It was Alex. He had looked at us in bewilderment and I heaved a breath of relief that I had put the knife back in the drawer.
Looking back, it was hardly any wonder Alex had reacted with suspicion. Jamie had clung to him, terrified, and only then did I realise my feet were caked in mud. I tried to tell him about Luke, but his eyes were alight with anger and disbelief. He made me feel like I was losing my mind. Numbly I walked into our bathroom while Alex took Jamie back to bed. It was only later when we had spoken that I realised my husband was right. We could not wait any longer. We needed to leave tonight.
I was ready to leave for work by 7 a.m., quickly peeping in on a sleeping Jamie before I went. Shame washed over me as I recalled what had happened the night before. What had I been thinking of, leaving him alone and vulnerable in the house like that?
I got into work, my shoulders drooping as I tried to carry on with my day. I knew Alex would take a dim view of me leaving Jamie alone, even if it were just for seconds. I took a slow breath as I pushed my anxiety down. Lately, I was going through periods of lucidity then falling into what felt like clouds as I withdrew from the world. Anxiety was taking me over, and it frightened me to the core. I had not been able to bring myself to tell Alex the full extent of my issues. I tried to remember when I had last kept down a meal. As if on cue, my stomach rumbled to tell me it had been far too long. I smoothed down my print dress, catching sight of a dropped hem. My eyes trailed down to my feet and only then did I realise I was wearing odd ankle boots. Both brown, both suede, but the one on the right had a fringe on the side. I exhaled a moan. What was happening to me?
The jingle of the bell above the door set me in motion.
‘Hello, anyone here?’ It was Josh. But as I walked out to greet him, his face fell.
‘Emma, are you OK?’ he said, his face creased in concern. He was dressed in his usual work clothes: black trousers and a shirt. Unlike me, Josh had made an effort with his appearance.
‘I’m fine,’ I said, trying to sound more positive than I felt. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘You texted me,’ Josh said. ‘Don’t you remember?’
A vague memory infiltrated my mind. I brought my fingers to the side of my forehead, wishing the clouds would clear. ‘Oh yes, I forgot. I was going to ask you to cover some extra shifts. Are you up for it? I’m leaving soon, but I need cover for the shop.’
‘Yes, I texted you back, saying I was on my way in.’
‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘I’m glad you’re here.’
‘I can work as many hours as you like,’ he said. ‘When do you need me?’
‘The thing is, I’m going today. I’ve not been . . .’ I swallowed. ‘I’ve not been very well. I’m taking a break in Leeds. We’re going to rent somewhere until the sale of the house goes through.’
‘Want to talk about it?’ he asked, eyeing me curiously.
I shook my head. ‘Not now. I’m sorry to leave you both in the lurch.’ The phone rang, bringing an end to our conversation.
I checked my watch, it was only nine o’clock. I wanted to ring Alex, see if he was up, but the thoughts of his disapproving voice were enough to make me wait. Today would be Jamie’s last day in nursery. I could check him on the webcam and see how he was getting on. Tonight we would pack for Leeds, and tomorrow we would begin our new life. Just one more day, that’s all I had to get through. One more day and we could start again. But the thought felt like a lie. Life was not a fairy-tale, and my happy ever after would not be so easily granted.
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
EMMA
2003
‘Tea for Two’ was an unusual name for a place that served mainly coffee. Regardless of the name, its customers did not seem to mind. It was one of my favourite haunts, when I could afford it. Lots of students came here because of the cut-price drinks. Balancing my cappuccino on the narrow window counter, I craned my neck to watch the baristas at work. My stay in hospital had clarified my thoughts, making me see Luke for the predator he was.
My vision had been filled with his face as I tried to sleep at night. Every time I’d close my eyes, he would be there, but not in the way I wanted. I had imagined him hovering above me with a pillow, his face twisted and angry, just like before. I could believe it – almost. But there was something I needed to know. Was the man I fell in love with just a figment of my imagination? Had Luke presented what I wanted to see? The answers came when I was sorting through the charred remains of the pathetic fire I had lit in my room. Embarrassed by my own stupidity, I had peeled back my photo from the picture of Luke that I had stolen. The girl beside him was pretty, young and blonde, with a face I had not recognised the first time round. It was only when I sought clarity that it sparked a memory in my brain. Now here I was, trying to gather up my courage as I watched her work. She could not have been much older than me – eighteen, perhaps; maybe more?
By the time her customers had cleared, the remnants of my drink had gone cold.
‘Can I get you anything else?’ she asked, rubbing a damp cloth over the counter and gathering up a sprinkling of crumbs. Dressed in black trousers and long-sleeved shirt, the badge pinned to her chest identified her as ‘Vicky’.
‘Just five minutes of your time,’ I said, slipping her photo from my pocket. ‘This is you in this photo, isn’t it? You and Luke?’
She froze as she caught sight of the image, her eyes locking on to his face. ‘Where did you get that?’
‘In his bedroom,’ I said, slightly shame-faced. ‘Please. Did you go out with him?’
‘Why do you want to know?’ She cocked her head to one side. ‘No . . . Surely not. You’re just a kid. How old are you?’