Close Your Eyes

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Close Your Eyes Page 9

by Rachel Abbott


  To start with they asked me questions – of course they did – and when they asked if I was married, in a relationship, had children, the answer was always no. Where did I come from? I chose Devon. It’s where my mum was from.

  The key to remaining anonymous is to do nothing which attracts attention, so as I leave the hotel, I resist the urge to put my head down and rush through the crowded lobby dragging a reluctant Alfie along. I keep my head up, my face wearing a neutral expression.

  I walk calmly to the door and out into the muggy air. It’s late afternoon, and people are spilling out of offices and straight into the bars that line the streets around here. No one looks at us; they’re too intent on downing that first ice-cold drink or getting home to their families. But as we head towards the chemist, which according to my phone is an eight-minute walk, I get the sense that I’m being watched.

  I spin round to check behind me, but no one’s there. Then I glance to my left. There’s a car, pulled up at the traffic lights, window down. The driver is watching me, staring at me. He’s young, shaved head, Asian, and for one awful moment I think he’s someone I once knew.

  My heart thuds. Given all the people who have come into my life over the years, I’ve always been certain that at least one of them would turn up in Manchester. That’s why I keep out of the town centre and remain in my little bubble in a pleasant but unremarkable suburb that is unlikely to appeal to the people I used to know – to the person I used to be.

  The lights change, and the car begins to move. I try not to look his way again, but I can’t help myself. His hand goes to his mouth, and with an extravagant wave out of the car window, he blows me a kiss. Was he just flirting or does he know me?

  All I want to do now is get something for Alfie and hurry back to the hotel. I had forgotten how terrifying it is to be out in full view in the centre of a city – a place where someone from my past might find me.

  20

  LAKESIDE

  On that fateful day a few months before my eleventh birthday – the day Mum invited a visitor to our house – she came upstairs to find me. My head was still buried beneath my pillow, where it had been since the moment I had seen the way the man looked at me.

  ‘DeeDee, what’s going on?’ she asked, concerned that I hadn’t come downstairs to greet our guest. She sat down on the bed and rubbed my back.

  ‘Don’t call me DeeDee,’ I mumbled, my voice muffled by the pillow. ‘Not any more, and not – definitely not – if you’re going to introduce me to that man.’ I pushed the pillow aside, rolled over on the bed and propped myself up on my elbows. ‘Promise.’

  There was a look of shock on her face. My reaction must have seemed extreme to her, but I couldn’t help myself. Little did I know at that moment that she would never call me DeeDee again.

  ‘Okay. I’ll use your proper name, and I’ll tell Dad. But I don’t understand what’s upset you.’

  ‘Him. That man. Who is he, Mum, and why does he stare like that?’

  She visibly relaxed. ‘Oh baby, he’s got incredible eyes, I know. When he looks at you, you want to melt, don’t you?’ She had an expression on her face I hadn’t seen before and didn’t like much. She reached out and grabbed my hands. ‘He can see into people’s souls. He understands the cause of everyone’s unhappiness, and he works with people to make them feel better about themselves and about life. He’s going to help me, sweetheart. You know I’ve been confused since we’ve been here, but he understood without me telling him anything.’

  She pulled me towards her and wrapped her arms around me. I have to admit that she seemed more relaxed in that moment than she had in a while.

  ‘Come and meet him – listen to what he has to say. Whatever you’re feeling, he’ll understand, and he won’t judge. He says that’s the problem with the human race – we’ve created so many constraints, set so many rules by which we’re all supposed to live that it’s no surprise we feel like failures all the time. We should relax. We should just be!’

  I had no idea what she was talking about, but her happiness was rubbing off on me and I was beginning to think I’d overreacted.

  I slid off the bed, and Mum stood up and held her hand out. It comforted me to cling to it as we made our way down the wide staircase – as yet still lacking carpet – and into the sparsely furnished living room.

  The man had his back to me as I walked into the room, but Dad was facing me and jumped up.

  ‘Ah, here she is! Come and say hello. Aram, meet our daughter—’

  ‘India,’ Mum said quickly, giving Dad a quick shake of the head. ‘Say hello to Mr Forakis, India.’

  The man got up from the sofa and turned towards me. ‘Call me Aram, please. I wasn’t aware there was a child in the house – but it’s a pleasant surprise. It’s good to meet you, India, and what a delightful name!’

  His voice was deep and mellow, his words unhurried, and at least he didn’t say it was a strange name for someone whose roots were obviously in an entirely different continent – a jibe I had heard more than once.

  Nevertheless I struggled to lift my eyes to his, which I knew was rude. I could feel his gaze burning two holes in the top of my head, and eventually I looked up. I swallowed. I was expecting to see the same look as earlier, as if my very existence displeased him, but now he was smiling. I must have been wrong.

  ‘Let’s all sit down, shall we?’ Mum said, her voice overly bright. Dad was looking slightly bemused by the entire thing, but if he had one rule, it was that whatever made Mum happy made him happy too.

  ‘Joel, India, I’ve asked Aram here because I think he can help me, and perhaps both of you, to understand why I’m not finding this exciting chapter in our lives as fulfilling as I’d hoped. I’ve been feeling lost, as you know – lacking in purpose – and Aram thinks he might be able to help.’ She looked hopefully at both of us. I didn’t know what to say, and Dad didn’t have the heart to burst her bubble. ‘Aram, can tell us how you think you might guide me back to the happy life I had before?’

  Aram looked from one to the other of the three people staring hopefully at him. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs, and smiled gently at Mum.

  ‘I’d like to tell you it will be a quick fix, Nicola, but I’m afraid it won’t. I don’t have any angel dust I can sprinkle that will transform your lives in half an hour. We will find a way, but I’m afraid it will take work, time and a fair degree of patience from your loved ones.’ He looked briefly at Dad, but his eyes settled on me. I felt he was asking me a question, and I nodded, not entirely sure what I was agreeing to, but certain it was expected.

  Mum’s face changed from expectation to alarm. ‘I’m happy to do the work, but I’m sure you’ll need to move on from here soon. Will we be able to do what we need to before then?’

  Aram dropped his head, his gaze focused on the carpet. Mum was obviously desperate to speak, to try to persuade him, but it was as if she didn’t want to break his spell.

  After what seemed like minutes but was probably only thirty seconds, Aram spoke.

  ‘I have a number of engagements that I feel obliged to fulfil, but fortunately they’re all within an hour’s drive of here. I can feel your pain, Nicola, and I can see from your wonderful family that they love you and want you to be happy. You need my help, and whatever I can do for you will be good for Joel and India too. We all need to be in this together.’ Once more he looked at Dad, then at me, then back to Mum. ‘Can I think about how best we can make this work? I don’t want to leave you as you are now – lost and lacking direction. If that means I need to make some sacrifices, then so be it.’

  Relief was written all over Mum’s face. ‘Oh, thank you. Thank you so much. And we have an enormous house here, so if you need somewhere to stay, we can easily put you up, can’t we, Joel?’

  I looked at Dad, who beamed as if suddenly he could do something useful. ‘Yes. Yes, of course. If it’s going to make things easier for you, it’s no problem. I hope you�
��ll be able to show me what I can do to help Nicola too.’

  ‘We – the human race, that is – have created so many false rules by which we live, and as a result some people find themselves in constant turmoil, wanting to do one thing, but forcing themselves to stick to a code of conduct that tears them apart.’ Aram seemed to measure his words. He spoke slowly, as if he thought it would be difficult for Dad to understand. ‘I’ll need to work with each of you to find out what’s constraining you, stopping you from being the real you. To do that, I’ll have to strip you back to who you are underneath, explore your true values, not those you’ve been forced to accept.’

  I didn’t have the first idea what he was talking about, but I could feel a sense of relief in the room, as if Aram was the answer to all of our prayers, and it seemed suddenly that everything was going to be okay.

  And then he mentioned me.

  ‘As I said earlier, I hadn’t realised there was a child in the house. Beautiful as she is, she’ll make things more difficult.’

  Mum looked horrified. ‘India is a good girl, Aram. She won’t cause any trouble.’

  He didn’t speak, just looked at me, and once again I felt as if he was asking me a question I didn’t know the answer to. Was I going to be the one to ruin things for Mum?

  ‘Why do you see a child as a problem?’ Dad asked, and I sensed a tinge of irritation in his tone. Aram clearly picked up on it too.

  ‘I’m sure she’s a good girl, Joel, but as we go through the process, I need Nicola to be totally focused on her own renewal, not on the demands of a child.’

  I was feeling sick. I was the problem. I looked at Dad, who clearly couldn’t decide what to do. This man was offering to help Mum get over whatever was causing her unhappiness, but I could see he didn’t like the way Aram was talking about me. Mum cast a pleading glance at Dad, then at me.

  ‘I can keep out of the way. I won’t bother you, Mum,’ I said, my voice cracking with suppressed tears.

  I expected her to say I wasn’t a bother, but instead she looked at Aram, clearly hoping for his approval.

  He stood up and to my surprise came and knelt in front of me, his eyes level with mine. When he spoke, it was as if we were the only two people in the room.

  ‘It’s not going to be easy, India. You’ll have to respect the process your mother is going through and not make unnecessary demands on her time. Do you think you can do that? Shall we try, together?’

  I had been trying not to let anyone see I was crying, but as I looked at Aram my tears dried. I could do this. We could all do this.

  When Dad spoke, he broke the spell. ‘I’ll take care of India. It’ll be great to spend more time with her. We’ll be fine, won’t we, sweetheart?’ He gave me one of his big beams, and suddenly it felt as if everything was going to be okay.

  Aram had accepted our offer of hospitality and cancelled some of his other engagements.

  ‘I go where I’m most needed,’ he said. ‘And right now I think that place is here.’

  There was no doubt that Mum was thrilled with his decision, and his presence in the house had certainly lifted her spirits. When he joined us for meals he talked about how well she was doing, how honest she was being, and praised us for our support. Nevertheless I was conscious of his concern that Mum would be too focused on me, so I tried to keep out of everyone’s way. If I saw Aram I scurried off in the opposite direction, anxious not to be seen as a nuisance, so it came as a surprise when he stopped me one day in the hall.

  ‘India, if I’m going to continue to help your mother, as both she and I believe I can, I need to know you better. I need to build the inner strength of those around her, which means you and your father. I’ve asked your parents if I can spend some time with you, and Joel has suggested maybe we could walk in the garden and talk there. How do you feel about that?’

  I wasn’t sure. I didn’t know what he expected of me.

  ‘It’s to help your mother.’

  How could I refuse?

  For the first few days I noticed that Dad was always somewhere nearby, digging a flower bed or spraying weedkiller on the drive. I know he was watching to make sure I was comfortable, and I was.

  Each day I skipped along by Aram’s side as we strolled either to the lake or to the river. We were surrounded by water, and I loved being with him as he pointed out the beauty of the wild flowers and the birdsong. I remember him telling me not to be afraid of the water voles. They wanted to live their lives without fear like we all do, so I should let them be and try not to frighten them.

  The time with him began to feel like the highlight of each day. My parents were distracted: Dad was anxious about Mum, and although she was much brighter, her thoughts seemed to be anywhere but with me. Meanwhile, Aram made me feel as if he had all the time in the world for me, until one day I thought I had ruined it all.

  He was pointing out some wild flowers and asking me to think about their beauty.

  ‘You know a lot about the flowers and birds,’ I said. ‘Were you brought up in the countryside?’

  He stopped walking. ‘Never ask anyone for personal information, India. It’s impertinent. I thought you would understand that.’

  ‘But I only asked—’ I said, horrified that I had done something wrong.

  ‘You asked me something that, had I wanted to, I would have volunteered. It’s intrusive. Neither ask for, nor volunteer, information which is irrelevant.’

  His tone was mild, but his rebuke stung. He carried on walking, leaving me standing forlornly in the meadow with no idea what I had done wrong.

  21

  Tom and Becky left Niall in the kitchen drinking yet more coffee, with Charley Hughes on hand should they need to update him or ask him for clarification on any points. They had been through all the usual questions regarding Genevieve’s relationships with others, any problems, past partners who may have been giving her trouble. But nothing stood out as important.

  Crucially, they had a list of her friends, although Niall had said he didn’t see any of them as close confidantes.

  ‘They’re a group of women who appear to get together solely for the purpose of competing with each other. Who has the most successful husband? Who has the flashiest house? Who’s going on the most exclusive holiday? I never hear talk of anything that’s gone wrong in their lives. It’s as if that would diminish them.’

  Tom was disappointed. A good friend could have made all the difference, particularly if there were aspects of Genevieve’s life that her husband knew nothing about. Nevertheless, someone would be tasked with following up on the women. He decided to let Becky drive back to headquarters. It would give him more time to think.

  ‘Who do you think’s the best person to talk to Genevieve’s friends?’ he asked.

  Becky didn’t hesitate. ‘Rob. Definitely. He’s charming; he’s attractive – in a Lewis Hamilton kind of way – so if they’re the kind of women that Niall is suggesting, he’s the man for the job.’

  Tom grinned. ‘That’s what I thought too. I’m sure I’d be a poor choice. I don’t even understand my ex-wife, and I’ve known her forever.’

  Becky glanced at him. ‘What’s Kate been up to? I’d have thought she was far enough away not to worry you any more.’

  ‘She’s on her way back. It’s great news because Lucy is coming with her, of course, but God knows what Kate thought she was doing, buggering off to Australia. She only lasted five minutes with her new man.’

  Becky grinned. ‘Well, to be fair, she had a nasty scare with the cancer and perhaps thought life was about taking a few risks.’

  ‘Fine – with her own life. But she’s messing my daughter about too. Watch out!’ he shouted as Becky nearly overshot a junction.

  ‘Chill, Tom. I’m in control.’

  They drove in silence for a few moments, and then Tom spoke again: ‘When we get back, I’ll have to go to the post-mortem. Can you chase the tech guys, find out why it’s taking so bloody long to get the pass
word from the computer? We need to get into that phone, because we’ve bugger-all else to go on. And brief Rob to go and chat up those women.’

  ‘Rob thought there might be more to be gleaned from Genevieve’s sister, so I might have a chat with her myself. I’ll check out the thumb drive too – see where Genevieve’s been going. Strachan didn’t object to us looking at those emails from Martha, so I’ll check those too.’

  At that moment Tom’s phone rang. He put it on speaker.

  ‘It’s DI Sims, sir. I’ve collated all the feedback from the people at the meeting with Mr Strachan last night. He was trying to raise additional funds for his business, and the original investors were meeting with the new ones to hammer out the details of the preference shares, earn-outs, et cetera.’

  Tom glanced at Becky, who was pulling her ‘What the hell is he talking about?’ face. Tom didn’t know much about corporate finance, other than the fact that investors did everything they could to protect their money and maximise their returns.

  ‘At the moment I’m not too interested in the content of the meeting, Keith. What did they have to say about Niall Strachan’s presence or otherwise?’

  ‘It seems that at various stages in the evening suggestions were made about tweaks to the contract terms, and each group of lawyers would go off into private offices to discuss whether they were prepared to accept the amendments. The last break took place at about eleven thirty. Niall Strachan was with his lawyer for a while, but when the contracts came back for final checking, he excused himself. The lawyer has no idea how long he was out of the office; she was absorbed in her reading. But the legal executive said she saw him leave the building.’

  ‘What time was this, Keith?’

  ‘She thinks it was about eleven forty-five. The meeting was supposed to reconvene at twelve fifteen a.m. but was delayed because a few people were late back to the room – including Mr Strachan. But he was there to sign by twelve thirty and left for home at about twelve forty.’

 

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