‘I’m so sorry,’ I swallowed, stepping back, as Gary bent down and ran his finger over it and they all peered at the floor. Only the boy continued to stare at me. I couldn’t help but give him another horrified glance. ‘It was an accident. I’ll go. I’m sorry.’
Desperate to escape, I pushed roughly past the daughter, who said ‘Hey!’ in irritable amazement, and rushed away down the hall. Struggling with the front door, terrified that one of them was going to follow after me and demand an explanation, I managed to get it open. Just about staying upright in my heels, I practically ran over to the car, scrabbled in my pocket for my keys and jumped in. Fumbling with the fob, I began to shake as Christy appeared in the doorway of the house, angrily calling something after me that I couldn’t hear.
I somehow got the car started, as Gary appeared alongside his wife, just in time to see me lurch forward and spin round on the gravel, almost hitting a silver Golf with a personalised plate that had been dumped right in my way. Spitting up an arc of sharp stones over their other cars, I swung sharply round it as Gary shouted furiously, pushing past Christy. I whimpered aloud as I roared off up their drive, glancing back in my rear-view mirror to see him bent over, inspecting the front of his Range Rover.
I kept going until I was back on the main road, then turned right, and hurried down the hill that led to the bottom of town and the Sainsbury’s roundabout. The traffic was still heavy, and although I kept checking behind me, I couldn’t see either of their cars in pursuit. I turned left, and drove sharply out of the town, towards Eridge and home.
‘Oh my god, oh my god,’ I whispered aloud in the car, as I stared at the road in front of me. School uniform. Exactly how old was he? He couldn’t be under sixteen. He just couldn’t. He didn’t physically look that young, but then, that didn’t mean he definitely wasn’t. I’d patched up plenty of rugby players over the years who’d looked years older than they actually were. I took one hand from the wheel and put it to my head in shock. I’d been surprised by how fresh-faced he was the morning afterwards, I remembered thinking that, but not that he looked like a child. I forced myself to think about him again, standing there in the Days’ kitchen, and tried more accurately to mentally gauge his actual age, within the context of his uniform. Oh please, God, I hadn’t had sex with a minor? I slowed down as I reached the top of the hill, turned right opposite Bunny Lane, and drove into Broadwater Forest.
If he was under sixteen I would face criminal charges. I’d lose everything; my job – without question, almost certainly Rob, possibly even my girls. A moan of fear escaped my lips. I didn’t know. I didn’t know!
I tried to think rationally. I needed to find out exactly how old he was. What about his tattoo? He would have to be eighteen to get that done. Although, I’d also seen enough botched jobs over my career to know scores of less reputable parlours would turn a blind eye to legalities. It wasn’t a reliable reference point. My mind turned instead to the Days’ daughter. I would be updating Christy’s patient record in the morning; I could look on the cohabiting part of her record, which would give me her daughter’s date of birth. Girls never went out with boys younger than them, did they? At least then I’d have a minimum cut-off point to work from. Except, what about Stef? She might know the daughter’s age and that would be even quicker. Christy Day clearly said Stef recommended me, or told a friend to recommend me, someone who I’d done work on?
I pulled over immediately, chucked the hazard lights on and, ducking down, bent quickly to pull out my mobile. I thought Stef was going to let it go to voicemail, but, thank God, she picked up at the last minute.
‘Hey, Al? You all right?’ she asked curiously. I never normally called her around the girls’ bedtime.
‘Which of your friends have I done fillers for, locally?’ I blurted, not even bothering with hello and barely noticing the dark forest either side of me. Normally I hate driving through it alone at this time of year. Rob insisted when we bought the house that I’d get used to it, but six years later, I still haven’t.
‘What? At your clinic, at The Stables, you mean? I don’t know.’ She paused. ‘Melanie, Tessa; I think you did Nicola too, didn’t you? I can’t really remember, why?’
‘OK, which of them know a couple called Gary and Christy Day?’
‘Oh – that’s Nic. The Days own all of those luxury spas. Nic said she’d get you in there! Why, has she come good?’
‘Yes. I’ve just been to the Days’ house. They’re actually patients at the practice, but I didn’t recognise them. They said a friend had passed them my name, via you.’
‘Great!’ Stef sounded delighted. ‘Hang on though – you don’t sound pleased? Is there a problem?’
‘No,’ I lied hastily. ‘I shouldn’t have told you that they’re patients, but they’ve got a teenage daughter and I want to find out how old she is. That’s all.’
‘Sorry, Al. I’ve no idea.’
‘Could you ask Nicola? Sorry to be odd and vague. It’s just… doctor stuff. Honestly nothing to worry about though.’
‘I can if you want me to – but that’s going to be a weird question for me to ask her out of the blue? She’s going to want to know why.’
‘Of course, sorry.’ I realised she was right. I wasn’t thinking straight. ‘Forget I asked.’
‘Maybe try Google instead?’ she suggested.
‘I don’t even know her name.’
‘Well – it might be listed in a news item or something. Hope you get the info you need, Al.’
What I needed was to go back seven days and not get on that plane to Ibiza.
I hung up and googled
Gary Day spa country club
It took me straight to a very upmarket website. I discovered that the new club would indeed be the Days’ fifth in a rapidly expanding chain and Gary was listed as the CEO, but that was it. No further information, and Christy didn’t appear on the site at all. I checked Gary’s LinkedIn profile and that was no better. I wanted to scan Facebook too, but realised suddenly that I was already creating a paper trail; links to my online searches that – if this boy did turn out to be, technically, a child – would almost certainly be examined. Could I explain everything on there so far? The Days had offered me a job out of the blue. It was only natural that I would have done a search on them after the event. But already, I felt too scared to continue, and almost dropped the phone in fright when it began to ring in my hands.
It was Rob, so I ignored it. I was practically home anyway and didn’t trust myself to speak to him. Seconds later a text pinged through, checking where I was, as it was getting late. What time should he put supper on?
I looked up into my frightened eyes reflected back in the rear-view mirror and tried to calm myself down, forcing myself to breathe deeply. It was just beginning to work when, in front of me, illuminated by my stationary headlights, I saw a movement to my left, in among the shadowy trees. I froze, and screamed, as something burst from between them and a bloody great deer leapt into the road. It stopped and eerily stared right at me, head lifted on high alert as the lights shone into its shiny black eyes, ears cupped forward and body stiff. Just as abruptly, it broke right and wheeled off into the thicket on the other side of the road, vanishing ghost-like into the dark.
I pulled away immediately, utterly unnerved. I just wanted to get home… but then I imagined myself telling Rob what had just happened at the house call and automatically took my foot back off the accelerator.
I’d told him the man in Ibiza was a stranger. I’d not even hinted about his age. How could I tell Rob, a mere four days later, that, not only had I just seen him again, in our home town, I also wasn’t one hundred per cent sure, but he might be sixteen, or under.