They were fine. They were all fine.
She walked back out of the room, then paused. On the landing below she saw Bill letting himself in through the front door, his coat on. Melissa stepped back into the shadows of the attic room, checking the time on the kids’ alarm clock. One thirty in the morning.
He hadn’t said anything about visiting Patrick, so what had he been doing out at that time of night?
Chapter Forty
Forest Grove Facebook Chit Chat Group
Saturday 27th April, 2019
7.30 a.m.
Andrew Blake
What’s going on at Ryan Day’s place? Loads of police there and forensics (I think that’s what they are?) in white suits.
Pauline Sharpe
I saw that too while walking the dog just now, loads of police! Was wondering where they were heading.
Ellie Mileham
Oh God, not another attack!
Graham Cane
Not that, Ellie Mileham. I think it’s pretty obvious what’s going on . . . something I said right from the start.
Rebecca Feine
What’s that, then?
Graham Cane
Well, Ryan Day and Melissa Byatt go back years, don’t they? Can’t be a coincidence that she was taken in last night and now the police being at Ryan’s again. Why do things like what’s happened to Patrick usually happen? Crimes of passion, aren’t they?
Jackie Shillingford
Don’t be ridiculous!
Belinda Bell
Is it so ridiculous, though, Jackie? I remember happening upon Melissa and Ryan in the woods once, just after little Joel died. Deep in conversation, they were . . .
Andrew Blake
Is ‘conversation’ code for something else?
Belinda Bell
You and your smutty mind!
Eamon Piper
Actually, just remembering something now. Do you remember when Patrick roped Ryan into doing that woodwork talk during the local Tory Party event last year? You could tell Ryan hated every minute and he was so dismissive of Patrick. I said to Andrew at the time, ‘Ryan’s not a fan of Patrick,’ didn’t I, Andrew?
Andrew Blake
You sure did, pal.
Belinda Bell
Interesting. So let’s get this clear:
1) Melissa and Ryan were, maybe still are, very close.
2) Ryan hates Patrick
3) Patrick gets stabbed
4) Police descend upon Ryan’s lodge
Debbie Lampard
Pretty shocked by these posts. Is this really appropriate? Where’s admin? This is an ongoing investigation, for God’s sake.
Andrew Blake
Oh! They’ve definitely arrested Ryan Day! His daughter is hysterical.
Graham Cane
Andrew Blake, reporting direct from the scene of the incident. You hiding behind a tree, Andrew?
Kitty Fletcher
Poor girl. Witnessing something like that can be very upsetting for a child.
Pauline Sharpe
Oh no, this is awful!
Graham Cane
Why’s it awful? Surely it’s a good thing, the scum responsible for the attack on Patrick Byatt finally found.
Debbie Lampard
That’s a bit of a leap, Graham Cane. Like Kitty says, think of his daughter too, witnessing that.
Andrew Blake
Something was just brought out in a plastic bag. It’s a knife!
Graham Cane
That’s it, then. Case closed.
Chapter Forty-One
Saturday 27th April, 2019
7.45 a.m.
No, no, no! This is all wrong! They can’t have arrested Ryan, not him, of all people! Surely that Facebook post is wrong.
I never meant for this to happen.
I can’t deal with this any more.
I feel like a fly in a web now, and this spider is about to come and eat me and all I want to do is untangle the web around my neck.
Chapter Forty-Two
Saturday 27th April, 2019
8 a.m.
Melissa woke to see Lewis looking down at her.
‘Mum, have you heard?’ Lewis said. ‘Ryan’s been arrested.’
Melissa struggled to sit up, noticing the girls across the room watching her with solemn looks on their faces.
‘They found a knife,’ Grace whispered.
Melissa peered out towards the forest, a pulse at the back of her head throbbing. ‘Th— that’s impossible! I buried it right in the forest. I don’t understand!’
She got up and started pacing back and forth. Of course, she knew that was where the detectives were leading when they’d questioned her the day before, towards Ryan. She ought to be relieved, really, that their attention was off the kids.
But it was Ryan! Her old friend. He didn’t deserve this. Plus, she’d now be dragged right into it, the detectives clearly thinking something was going on between her and Ryan.
A thought occurred to her then. Maybe the kids were covering for Ryan.
She looked at them all. ‘Has Ryan got anything to do with all this?’
They all exchanged looks.
‘Has he?’ she pushed.
‘You tell us,’ Lilly said, folding her arms over her nightdress.
‘What do you mean?’ Melissa asked her.
‘We know about you and Ryan, Mum,’ she said with a sigh.
‘Oh, for God’s sake, not this again. There’s nothing between me and Ryan. He’s my friend!’
‘It doesn’t matter, we’re cool with it, Mum,’ Lewis said.
‘You really don’t need to lie, Mum,’ Lilly said. ‘You weren’t yourself back then, anyway, were you?’
Melissa looked at them in shock. ‘Back when?’
‘After Joel died,’ Lilly said.
They were interrupted by the sound of footsteps on the landing.
Melissa looked up to see Rosemary standing at the door with Grace’s distinctive Harry Potter rucksack opened to reveal a bloody broken watch inside.
Patrick’s missing watch, caked in dry blood.
Suddenly, all thoughts of Ryan disappeared from Melissa’s mind.
‘I found the rucksack in one of the spare rooms,’ Rosemary said as she regarded Grace with hooded eyes.
Lewis and Lilly craned their necks to look at what was inside, mouths dropping open. Grace just remained expressionless.
Melissa took the rucksack to her. ‘Why would you keep Dad’s watch, Grace? And why’s it broken?’
Grace shrugged. ‘Don’t know. Just took it.’
‘That’s gross,’ Lilly said. ‘There’s still blood on it.’
‘Why on earth would you do that, Grace?’ Rosemary snapped. ‘It’s like some kind of—’ She paused. ‘Some kind of trophy.’
Grace cringed, eyes brimming with tears. ‘Sorry!’
Melissa gave Rosemary a look. ‘For God’s sake, it’s just her way of dealing with things.’
‘Can we talk?’ Rosemary asked Melissa. ‘Downstairs?’
Melissa nodded, following Rosemary down to the kitchen. ‘It’s not right for a little girl to do something like that, Melissa.’
Melissa sighed. ‘It’s just her way of coping, Rosemary.’
‘Yes, her way,’ Rosemary said as she gently took Patrick’s watch from the rucksack and began carefully washing it at the sink. ‘She’s always been different, hasn’t she?’
‘Yes,’ Melissa said, crossing her arms, ‘and that’s why we love her.’
‘I know, but . . .’ Rosemary’s voice trailed off.
‘Spit it out, Rosemary!’
‘Her obsession with dead animals, with crime. It’s not normal for a kid her age.’
‘Actually, it’s more normal than you think. Children are fascinated by blood and guts. You know that.’
‘Not little girls,’ Rosemary said sombrely.
Melissa laughed. ‘Oh, come on, Rosemary! That’s a bit of a generalisation.’
Rosemary sighed. ‘I just wonder if I’ve been paying too much attention to Lewis. What if it’s Grace who hurt Patrick?’
‘A watch isn’t evidence of that, Rosemary.’
‘It’s just a consideration,’ Rosemary said sternly as she regarded Melissa over her shoulder. ‘He loves this watch, we all know that! It was Bill’s great-grandfather’s watch, the war hero, remember?’
‘How can I forget?’ Melissa said sarcastically.
Rosemary narrowed her eyes. ‘I suppose you’ve heard about Ryan being arrested?’
‘Yes, the kids just told me. It’s not him who hurt Patrick, Rosemary.’
‘The whole of Forest Grove seems to think so.’
‘You’re talking about the bloody Facebook group? Don’t tell me it’s on there already. Honestly, that is not a barometer of how people feel here.’
‘I think they get it pretty spot on sometimes,’ Rosemary said. ‘There’s been some interesting stuff said about Ryan recently.’
Melissa put her hand on her hip, looking at her mother-in-law. ‘Like what, Rosemary?’
Rosemary turned around, her eyes on Melissa’s. ‘Like about you and Ryan being close,’ she said.
‘Oh Jesus, not you too!’ Melissa flung her hands in the air in frustration. ‘Nothing has happened between me and Ryan!’
‘No smoke without fire.’ Rosemary went to Melissa and grasped her arm. ‘Is Grace Ryan’s daughter, Melissa?’
‘Jesus Christ, why would you say that? No!’
‘What’s going on here?’ They turned to see Bill at the doorway.
‘Look what I found in Grace’s rucksack,’ Rosemary said, gesturing to the broken watch.
Bill eyes widened. ‘Is that . . . ?’
‘Yes,’ Rosemary said. ‘It’s weird, isn’t it, Bill?’
‘Stop it, Rosemary,’ Melissa said. ‘Just stop it.’
‘What are you two arguing about now?’ Bill asked.
‘She just accused me of having an affair with Ryan,’ Melissa said, ‘and asked whether Grace is Ryan’s daughter because of course no child with Byatt blood running through them would keep mementoes like she has,’ she said. ‘The Byatts are perfect – except,’ Melissa said, tapping her chin, ‘Patrick did have to see a therapist when he moved here. Not so perfect, huh?’
Both Bill and Rosemary’s mouths dropped open.
‘How do you know that?’ Bill asked, closing the kitchen door so the kids couldn’t hear.
‘I have my sources,’ Melissa said, crossing her arms. ‘In fact, I’m learning a lot about Patrick lately. Infidelities, therapy . . .’
‘How dare you?’ Rosemary hissed. ‘Your husband is lying in hospital right this moment and you dare to say all this about him?’
‘But it’s all true!’ Melissa countered. ‘You’re not denying it!’
‘Calm down, Melissa,’ Bill said, putting his hands on her shoulders and looking her in the eye. ‘Are you okay? You don’t seem yourself.’
‘Oh, I don’t know, my husband, who’s been cheating on me most of our marriage, is in a coma possibly caused by one of our kids and my mother-in-law thinks one of those kids has been fathered by someone else!’
Rosemary shook her head and sat down, Patrick’s watch in her hands.
‘Maybe we should get you some help?’ Bill said gently to Melissa. ‘You were like this after Joel died.’
‘I was grieving.’
‘I don’t just mean the grief. You seem a little . . . unbalanced.’
Melissa’s shoulders slumped. How could she argue back? He was right.
‘It’ll all be alright, Melissa,’ Bill said. ‘We’ll sort it, you know that. Ryan’s been arrested, hasn’t he?’
A sudden coldness hit at Melissa’s very core.
We’ll sort it.
‘Did you plant the knife on Ryan?’ Melissa asked him.
‘Of course not.’
She examined his face. ‘You’re lying. I saw you come in the other night. My God,’ she said as it hit her. ‘Did you follow me when I buried the knife the other night?’
He sighed. ‘I know this is hard, but it’s the best way, really.’
‘But Ryan is innocent,’ Melissa hissed.
‘Well, he did betray Patrick . . .’ Rosemary said, shrugging. ‘He took advantage of you at your most vulnerable when you had your little breakdown after Joel died, didn’t he?’
Melissa let out a frustrated scream. ‘How many times do I have to tell you, I did not have an affair with Ryan.’
Rosemary and Bill exchanged dubious looks.
Melissa’s phone buzzed in her hand. She wanted to ignore it, to continue laying into Rosemary and Bill. She was so furious they would do this to Ryan and that they had such little faith in her.
But when she looked down at her phone, she recognised the number.
‘It’s the hospital,’ she said.
Bill and Rosemary went quiet as Melissa put the phone to her ear.
‘Mrs Byatt?’ It was Patrick’s doctor. ‘I’ve just had your husband’s new scan results and we’ve decided to try to wake him. Are you able to get here soon?’
Melissa’s head spun. It was finally happening!
Chapter Forty-Three
Saturday 27th April, 2019
8.30 a.m.
Melissa ran into the hospital with Rosemary and Bill, her bag swinging from her shoulder. Her phone fell out, smashing to the floor. She quickly picked it up, not caring that the glass was broken, and continued running until she got to Patrick’s room. As they approached Patrick’s bed, Melissa took in a sharp breath when she saw that Detective Powell was already there, standing at the foot of the bed. Patrick’s doctor was on one side, a nurse on the other.
Rosemary went to Patrick’s side, stroking his shaved head. ‘Be strong, my darling son,’ she whispered. ‘Be strong.’
Melissa felt a strange kind of calm as she regarded her husband, his long, lean body and handsome face. Half of her wanted to slap him, to scream into his face: Why? Why? Why? The other half was desperate to hold him, to know he was okay.
One thing she was sure of, though: she was now ready for the truth to come out. The lies and secrets had been eating away at her, and she realised with a sharp clarity that she should have just been honest from the start. Ryan’s arrest had made her realise that. Manipulating the truth, withholding it, was wrong. She had done that by not telling the police about the kids hiding the knife . . . and Patrick had too, with all his indiscretions. And then the kids – their kids – their wall of silence, all adding up to rot their family to the very core.
The kids didn’t want the truth coming out, though. She’d seen it in their eyes when she ran upstairs to tell them their father was awake and Jackie would be over to look after them.
‘We’ll deal with it, okay?’ she’d said to them as they regarded her with wide, fearful eyes. ‘Whatever Dad says, I have your backs, you understand?’
And that was true. She would deal with it, whatever Patrick said about his attacker.
She took a deep breath and approached Patrick’s bed with trepidation. She looked down at him, wondering how she could pretend everything was normal when their marriage had been pulled apart at the seams. She had to try, though. He wouldn’t be with it, would he? The anger and questions could come later.
Detective Powell gave her a curt smile, the first smile Melissa had seen from her since this all started, and Melissa realised then that she too was yearning for the truth.
‘Come and stand by your husband, Mrs Byatt,’ the doctor said, gesturing to the space beside her. ‘It’ll be good for you to be close to him when he wakes. He’ll be very confused.’
Melissa slipped in past the detective and stood by Patrick, across from Rosemary and Bill, hands trembling and freezing cold as she held Patrick’s hand. Rosemary and Bill looked nervous. They seemed so convinced their son wouldn’t tell the truth if one of his children had hurt him, but Melissa wasn’t so sure. She wasn’
t sure of anything any more.
‘How’s this going to work?’ Bill asked the doctor, an obvious tremble in his deep voice.
‘We’ll gradually reduce the drugs that have been keeping your son in a coma,’ the doctor explained. ‘It may take some time for Patrick to wake, so patience is key. He’ll be very disoriented, weak, in a little pain. I’d take a seat, if I were you.’
Rosemary and Melissa sat down, but Bill and the detective remained standing.
‘Is this really appropriate?’ Bill said, gesturing to Detective Powell. ‘Can’t our son just be woken with his family around him, give him some time to adapt?’
‘This is an investigation into a possible attempted murder, Mr Byatt,’ Detective Powell said sternly.
The doctor turned her attention to the detective. ‘Patrick’s father is right, we don’t want to distress Patrick when he wakes. It’s unlikely he’ll be able to talk much anyway.’
‘We just need one name, that’s all,’ Detective Powell said simply, eyes sliding towards Melissa.
‘Where’s Detective Crawford?’ Melissa asked, wishing it was him there instead of his stern colleague.
‘On his way,’ the detective replied.
‘Are we all ready?’ the doctor asked, looking around the room.
They all nodded and the nurse started pressing buttons on the machine by Patrick. Melissa took a deep, shaky breath as Rosemary and Bill leaned in closer to their son, scrutinising his pale face. There was no activity for a while, the nurse and doctor just monitoring Patrick’s vital signs. But after a few minutes, Patrick’s eyes started blinking rapidly beneath his soft blue-veined eyelids. There was a moan and Melissa put her hand to her mouth, suppressing a sob. She’d never in her life experienced such a confusing mixture of emotions, elation that her husband was waking, anger at what he’d done and yes, full-on fear of discovering the reason behind him being there.
‘Patrick,’ the doctor said softly, ‘I’m Dr Hudson. You’re at Ashbridge General Hospital. Your wife, Melissa, is here, and your parents are too. You have been placed in an induced coma for the past nine days to help you heal.’
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