She reached across the table and touched the tips of his fingers. She wasn’t sure, but she thought he twitched at her touch, as though it were unwelcome. What she had said back at the Corrigan house had obviously crossed a line; she just hoped they could get back from it.
Chapter Fifty-Five
Imogen watched Gary tapping away at the computer, pulling up various documents and sending them to the printer.
‘How’s Adrian?’ Gary said.
‘He seems to be improving. He’s lost some weight, though; this bug really has a hold of him.’
‘What’s the doctor given him?’
‘I don’t know. Antibiotics, I assume,’ Imogen responded. ‘What are we looking at?’
‘I’m just looking at all the construction jobs that have taken place over the last few years since Corrigan Construction moved into town.’
Imogen remembered what Angela had said about moving from Shropshire.
‘How long ago was it again?’ she asked.
‘Around ten years now. Which is not that long in business terms; he grew that company very fast.’
‘Do you think we can get him on dodgy books or something?’
‘Nothing obviously illegal as yet. We’ve tried reaching out to his competitors in the area, see if he has been strong-arming them into letting him win bids on big contracts. He seems to get more than his fair share and I find it hard to believe that’s completely above board. Same story, though. No one has anything to say about him on the record. I mean, why aren’t they kicking off about it?’
‘Why wouldn’t it be legal to win bids?’
‘It was a huge deal a few years ago. Then the law was changed to ensure the bigger companies weren’t fucking over the smaller ones, which they were by ensuring that they always won the biggest construction bid, basically putting lots of smaller companies out of business. You aren’t allowed to create barriers to prevent other companies from entering a market; it’s possible that’s what was happening here. Again, nothing on paper that is untoward, but you don’t know what he is saying to these people in person.’
‘He’s probably not taking them out to dinner. He knows how to make people do what he wants, which means there won’t be a paper trail,’ Imogen said. ‘Can you find out more about Angela Corrigan when you have done that? Where she is from, if she still has any family that maybe we could connect her with. Do it when you finish that. Let me know if you need me to speak to anyone. Although so far no one wants to say anything specific against this guy; he is like a Sith Lord or something.’
‘Oh no, has Adrian been making you watch Star Wars?’
‘Last month he made me watch the first three movies.’
‘The first three?’
‘You know, the first three to come out, not the first three in the series.’
‘Oh, good. I was about to go mad and text him some strong words,’ Gary joked. ‘Do you think he would be up to a visitor yet?’
‘I don’t know. He’s really not been well. I can ask him when I see him, though.’
‘Let him know I’m thinking about him.’
‘Why don’t you just call him?’ Imogen said.
‘I have; he doesn’t answer. I guess he is asleep or something.’ Gary shrugged.
‘How long until you get through all this lot, do you think?’
‘It could take a few days, I reckon. More if I go through the contracts or look through past business deals. I want to make sure I don’t miss anything. From what you have told me, this guy is a complete shit and deserves to be locked up. If we can’t get him for domestic abuse or murder, then we will get him on something white collar. Who cares as long as he is put away?’
‘I agree. Everything is a dead end at the moment and even if we could compel Angela to speak, I doubt she would say anything of use; she is too terrified of him. I think she would rather go to jail than bank on us putting him away.’
‘Well, let’s hope we can get her out of there some other way, then,’ Gary said.
‘Just quickly, can you see if there is anything on Reece Corrigan when he was younger, too? Like a juvey record or something. As an adult he’s been clean as a whistle, but it all had to start somewhere. I can’t help thinking we have missed something big.’
Gary tapped away at the keys for a few minutes and Imogen watched as he pulled up several documents at such a speed that it seemed impossible to glean any useful information from each one. Obviously, Gary knew what he was looking for.
‘OK, so yeah, he was on the periphery of a few things but never directly involved. Looks like he spent a few years in Liverpool, where he got mixed up with the wrong people. He was cautioned twice but then nothing.’
‘What was he cautioned for?’
‘A couple of cases of common assault when he was seventeen years old, both wiped from his record after two years because of his age. In both cases the victims didn’t speak out against him. There was a knife on the scene, but they couldn’t prove it was his, hence the caution and not an arrest.’
‘Sounds like our man.’
‘He had an older brother who was killed in a street fight. His father was in and out of prison, too. Mother left when he was still in nappies, so no strong female influence in his life.’
‘Get you, Mr Forensic Psychology. What was his dad in for?’
‘Organised crime. Low-level, though. They didn’t have much in the way of money and certainly no power.’
‘Maybe that’s his problem, then.’
‘Sounds like being a manly man was a big deal in that household.’
‘As usual, you are amazing. Can you send me over all the pertinent information? Can you check if there is anything else on him and the company? He told us he hired ex-cons before. Maybe see if we can get a list of those together and assess whether any of them could have killed Glover. I don’t think Corrigan gets his hands dirty himself.’
‘I’ll see what I can find.’
Chapter Fifty-Six
Seeing Dr Hadley had helped. The pain medication was good and Adrian could feel himself getting better slowly, at least physically. He wanted to get back to life now. He thought he could beat the PTSD by working hard to be normal again, to be the person he was before, maybe better. The doctor had said it could go away after a while and that’s what he wanted. There had to be a way he could achieve that.
He was cooking dinner every night, resigned to the fact that Imogen was coming over. Her presence in the house did make him feel better – when he was alone, he was afraid. He ignored the fear as much as he could, pushed it to the back of his mind and got on with it, but it lingered like a shadow, attached yet apart. He was showering at least five times a day, but who was keeping count?
It had been a week since the attack. He still hadn’t been sleeping very well, but he was able to sit on a cushion without wanting to scream in agony. The memory of that night was worse when he tried to sleep – that’s when he was alone with his thoughts and his mind just wouldn’t stop. He had watched hundreds of episodes of television shows, obsessively involving himself in character plots and fictional people’s lives. Occasionally, something he saw on the television would bring a moment hurtling to the surface. He was angry and frustrated that he couldn’t just put it behind him. Why did it have such a hold on him?
He had been in scary situations before but, admittedly, this was a few notches above anything else he had experienced. The physical reminder didn’t help, though the pain was improving. At least his outward appearance was returning to normal, even if he didn’t know what he could do about the inside. The bruise on his rib was dying; it had lost its vibrancy and was starting to fade.
Suddenly, he heard the key turn in the lock. He peered towards the front door, holding his breath.
‘Hey, Dad,’ his teenage son said.
Adrian was startled at seeing Tom. He was overwhelmed with shame and he felt sick again.
‘I’ll be with you in a minute. I don’t feel so good.’
>
‘You don’t look so good, either,’ Tom said as he went into the lounge, dumping his laptop bag on the ground.
‘There’s food in the kitchen if you want,’ Adrian said as he hurried up the stairs into the bathroom.
He slammed the door and gulped for air. He leaned over the basin, ready to throw up again, saliva pooling in his mouth. Was he going to feel this way every time he saw Tom? He didn’t even want to look him in the eye.
He had to compose himself; he couldn’t let this beat him. He could do it – he could make himself better. He refused to be a slave to this. He wiped his leaking eyes again. Was this ever going to end?
He went back downstairs to find Tom scoffing a sausage roll. Adrian went and put his arms around his son. His rib smarted but he didn’t care.
‘I called your colleague, Imogen, and asked if I could come over; your phone was off. I didn’t know how else to get in touch with you,’ Tom explained. ‘We’ve got the afternoon off because of some kind of problem in the sixth form centre. She said you would be happy to see me.’
‘I am. It’s good to see you. I didn’t think we were seeing each other until next weekend,’ Adrian said.
Tears hovered on edge of his lids again. He turned away and started to make a coffee before it began. Losing it in front of Tom was the last thing he needed. He had to be stronger now than he had been so far. He couldn’t let Tom know he was hurting, for his son’s sake.
‘What happened to you, anyway?’
‘Just a work thing, nothing major.’
‘Can I see your rib?’
‘It’s faded a lot,’ Adrian said, realising Imogen must have explained his injuries to Tom.
Adrian lifted his shirt and showed Tom the bruise – you could see his ribs outlined in a smoky grey and a cranberry cloud like bruising around the whole area. There were some green-and-yellow marks; it looked like a nebula. Beautiful in its own way.
‘Wow! that must have really hurt.’
‘Still does. A couple more weeks until I’m better.’
‘Do you want to watch a movie or something?’ Tom said.
Adrian could see that Tom was worried about him and it broke his heart. Even in Tom’s sixth form attire of a dark grey business suit with a shirt and tie, he barely looked his seventeen years. Adrian couldn’t believe that he was going to be eighteen in a couple of months.
‘What did you have in mind?’
‘I don’t know; you can pick one of those eighties action movies you keep threatening to show me.’
‘Predator it is, then,’ Adrian said.
Tom sat at one end of the sofa and Adrian at the other. They didn’t get far into the movie before Adrian fell asleep, another hurdle jumped. He hadn’t considered how difficult it would be to see Tom again. Everything was difficult, everything was new. It was as though someone had flipped the world upside down and blindfolded him, still expecting him to know his way around. Being with Tom felt good, if uncomfortable, but then everything was uncomfortable. It didn’t feel dangerous like almost every other situation.
He woke just as the end credits were rolling. Tom had nodded off too at some point. Adrian’s phone vibrated and lit up; it was Dr Hadley.
‘Hi.’
‘I just wanted to give you a call and see how you were doing. Did your HIV test at the clinic go OK? I can swing by later on if you need me to, if you want a chat or anything?’
‘The test went OK; I should get the results in a couple of weeks. And you don’t have to come and see me. I’ll come and see you soon.’
‘It’s no bother. I’m guessing you still haven’t spoken to anyone about what happened.’
‘Not yet, no.’
‘There are people you can phone anonymously. Don’t suffer through this alone. It won’t go away on its own.’
‘I know. Thank you. I will speak to someone.’
‘If you need to speak to me about what happened that night, you can. I’m happy to listen.’
The idea of telling anyone he then had to look in the eye on a regular basis was not something Adrian could even consider without feeling nauseous. She was right, though. He did need to speak to someone. The guilt and shame were pulling him to pieces.
Tom took a deep breath and opened his eyes. Adrian couldn’t cope with both of these states at the same time, victim and father – he could only just manage one and not even that convincingly.
‘I can’t really talk right now. I’ll come and see you in a couple of days,’ Adrian said and hung up the phone.
‘Everything OK?’
‘Yes, fine. I’m just tired. You’re welcome to hang out here, but I think I need to get back to bed.’
Adrian poised himself to get up, mentally preparing himself for the pain. He wanted to have a shower; it had become a part of his routine to have one at this time of day. His routine was about the only thing keeping him together right now.
Tom stood and held both of his hands out to Adrian to help him to his feet. Adrian was so proud of the person Tom was turning into. He couldn’t cry, not now, he had done so well.
‘Nah, I told Mum I would get back. Just wanted to make sure you’re OK.’
‘Satisfied?’ Adrian smiled his best I’m OK smile.
‘Can I hug you?’ Tom asked.
‘Gently,’ Adrian said as Tom wrapped his long, slender arms around his shoulders, barely touching him.
‘I love you, Dad.’
‘I love you, too.’ Adrian’s voice cracked as he said the words.
Tom didn’t look at his father; instead, he grabbed his bag and disappeared. Adrian didn’t have time to think about Tom, about what his son might think of him if he knew the truth. That he might be ashamed of his father, that he might never look at him the same way again. Seeing Tom just strengthened Adrian’s resolve not to report it.
He walked up the stairs and got into the shower for the third time that day. He never stayed in there for long, but there was something about the feeling of the water all around him that made him feel better. He liked the idea that all the skin he had inhabited that day was now gone, rubbed away and down the drain. He had shed his outer layer; there was no part of the skin he had now that had touched that man. A small comfort, but any comfort was good.
He found himself alternating between two tracksuits, washing one while he was wearing the other, obsessed with being clean.
Adrian hadn’t been completely honest with Tom. He had no intention of going to bed just yet; he had something else to do first.
He walked out of the house and to the Sacred Heart Church on South Street. He hadn’t been to church in a while, not unless he was there as a police officer to ask questions. His mother had insisted he be confirmed at the Sacred Heart and so going there would at least make him feel closer to her, if not God. He rarely missed his mother; he didn’t allow himself to think about her much. Since the attack he wanted her here more than ever – she would know how to make it go away, wouldn’t she?
She often took him to church. He would sit on the back pew during confessional while she disappeared inside the wooden cubicle for what felt like an eternity. When she came out, she always seemed better somehow, renewed. He wanted to feel that. Today, he was the one here to confess.
The times of confession were on the website; he had looked it up. He felt confident that he could disclose to a priest, even though he had almost forgotten how to make confession. It was strange to him that this would be the place he would come, but he didn’t trust anyone else with his soul and that’s what needed cleansing now.
The familiar smell of the church was reassuring. He touched the holy water and did the sign of the cross as he passed over the threshold. There was no one else in here; it was empty. He walked to the confessional and stepped inside.
‘Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been over ten years since my last confession.’
‘Go on.’ The voice came from behind the panel.
Adrian took a deep breath. ‘I have
lied, I have engaged in self-abuse.’
‘What do you mean by self-abuse?’
‘I drink a lot and sometimes I get into fights on purpose. I have also been sexually promiscuous.’
‘Why did you come here now after ten years? You know you’re supposed to come at least once a year.’
‘I know, Father. My faith has not always been strong. I feel further from God than ever and so I wanted to make confession.’
‘Why do you feel further from God?’
‘I can’t tell you,’ Adrian said, suddenly unsure of himself.
He came to confess but he didn’t expect it to be so difficult.
‘I’m bound by the confessional, you can speak to me,’ the priest said.
‘I was sexually assaulted. I can’t help wondering if it’s because I’m being punished for something, for losing faith, maybe.’
‘For not coming to church? No. That’s not why you were sexually assaulted.’
‘I need to attach some meaning to what happened. I need for there to be a reason.’
‘The reason belongs to the person who attacked you; they know why it happened. The fault doesn’t lie with you. You mustn’t blame yourself.’
Adrian caught his breath. He still had one more sin to confess.
‘I’ve considered taking my own life.’
‘Suicide is a mortal sin. It’s important that you preserve your life, not just for God, but also for yourself, for the people around you who love and depend on you. Think about how your death would affect them,’ the priest said.
‘I know. It just comes over me, though. That I can’t be here anymore, that I can’t deal with this. I don’t want to think it. I’m trying not to,’ Adrian said, unsure of how to explain the way it had just suddenly become a viable option for him, as though it could be the answer to anything.
‘If you have ever lost someone you love, or even if you love someone profoundly, you can imagine how their death would affect you. Do you want to be the cause of that kind of pain for the people around you?’
‘No, of course not.’ Adrian wiped his face.
‘Then resist. You can conquer this. You have already been through the worst part. What comes now is healing and healing takes time. Be patient.’
Woman in the Water Page 19