Trust Me: An absolutely gripping and unputdownable psychological thriller

by Sheryl Browne

  Forty-Nine

  Jake

  ‘Ready?’ Jake asked Millie as she came downstairs. She still looked pale, but she was holding things together. She and Emily had talked, tentatively at first. Jake had guessed that they’d made some headway towards healing their wounds when he walked into the kitchen to find them hugging each other fiercely and crying together.

  Giving him a plucky smile, Millie nodded. Jake smiled reassuringly back. Holding eye contact with her for a second, he saw that she understood he was trusting her to use her initiative regarding how much she disclosed to her friend. Three days had passed, and they’d had no contact from the police. Thinking they would have done by now had they been under suspicion, Jake breathed a little more easily.

  ‘We’re off,’ he called to Emily upstairs.

  ‘Okay. Ring me if you need a lift later, Millie,’ Emily called back.

  Once Millie would have rolled her eyes and told her she was sixteen, not six and perfectly capable of walking home on her own, but now she looked relieved – that her mother cared enough to be worried about her, Jake surmised, which was definitely progress.

  Leaving Emily with Ben to have a more in-depth conversation with him – about the incident that had turned his life upside down and Lewis’s flat into an inferno, as well as historical events that were painful for both of them – he picked up his car keys. Opening the front door to let Millie out before him, he gave her shoulders a squeeze as they walked towards his car.

  Millie was quiet for a while on the journey. Eventually she turned to him. ‘I’m sorry I told Ben about Lewis being his father,’ she said, almost blurting it out, as if she’d had to summon her courage.

  Jake reached for her hand. ‘It’s okay, Millie,’ he said, squeezing it. ‘He had to know.’

  ‘Yes, but it should have come from Mum, not me. I should have thought about it, been more mature.’

  ‘You were distraught, Mils. We all were.’ Pulling up outside Anna’s house, Jake took a breath. ‘We can’t undo things, Millie, but we can learn from them. I think that’s the lesson to take from this, don’t you? The mature thing to do?’

  Millie nodded, but Jake guessed from her expression that she would still beat herself up for some time to come. ‘Are you sure you’ll be okay?’ he asked.

  She took a second, and then nodded firmly. ‘I’m fine,’ she lied – for his sake, he guessed. ‘I need some space, to try and get my life back, you know?’

  Jake nodded in turn. He understood, but knew she had a long journey ahead – it wouldn’t be easy for her to get over what had happened. He was reluctant to let her out of his sight, but smothering her wouldn’t help her rebuild her confidence. They were just going to have to trust her to tread carefully in future. ‘Remember, if you need to talk about anything, anything at all, I’m listening.’

  She glanced at him. ‘I know,’ she said, and then surprised him by leaning over to give him a neck-breaking hug. ‘Remember, if you need to talk, whatever shit’s happening between you and Mum, I’m there for you too.’

  Hearing her sounding more like the spirited Millie he knew, Jake felt some of his apprehension abate a little.

  ‘Love you,’ she said, turning to open her door.

  ‘Love you right back,’ he said throatily as she climbed out. ‘Remember to call your mum when you need a lift home.’

  ‘I will.’ Closing the door, Millie gave him a wave and then turned towards Anna, who was standing on the doorstep waiting for her.

  Guessing that she wasn’t going anywhere else – that she had learned from her experience and hopefully wouldn’t easily make the same mistake again – Jake breathed a sigh of relief and drove on to the hospital. He wanted to visit Edward, who was making a good clinical recovery, thank God. He also wanted to check on Natasha, who hadn’t yet regained consciousness, and bring himself up to speed with her expected prognosis. He’d been hugely relieved to hear that Zoe had been brought out of her medically induced coma. She was still under ICU observation, but the swelling had been considerably reduced, thereby reducing pressure on her brain and preventing secondary injury. Dean had sounded nothing but relieved when he’d called him. Jake very much doubted he’d had anything to do with her fall. All he could hope was that Zoe would remember enough to exonerate him.

  Parking in the hospital car park, he texted Emily, telling her how long he expected to be, and then walked to the main entrance.

  ‘Dr Merriden,’ someone called as he approached it.

  Looking up, his stomach knotted nervously as he saw DS Regan.

  ‘I just wondered whether you were aware of any other letters sent out that we might not know of?’ she asked when she reached him.

  Thinking she might have been about to mention the explosion, possibly asking him his whereabouts, Jake felt relief flood through him. ‘None that I’ve heard about,’ he said, guessing she would be thinking that someone might have confided in him. ‘I take it you’re not making much headway?’

  ‘Not much, no.’ She sighed disappointedly. ‘We’ll keep on it, but I’m afraid we’re coming up with nothing forensically yet. I’ll let you know if we do.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Jake smiled his appreciation, though with Millie and Emily in mind, he was praying it might all just fade away. ‘Any idea what might have caused the car workshop fire?’ he asked, holding her gaze and hoping to Christ she couldn’t read anything in his eyes.

  Regan shook her head. ‘Looks like it was an unfortunate accident,’ she said. ‘There were cigarette and spliff ends littering the forecourt. It seems Lewis was fond of tossing them out of the window. Not a smart move when you live above a tinderbox.’

  ‘No. Not a nice way to go.’ Jake looked suitably concerned. He’d been hoping that Ben had tossed the cigarette without thinking. Learning that Millie had filled him in on much of what had happened, including that Lewis was his biological father, he couldn’t help feeling that Ben’s justifiable anger might have got the better of him. He and Emily could live with what had happened, just. The psychological impact on Ben, however … He guessed they would have to go slowly and cross one bridge at a time.

  ‘The worst. He was a nasty piece of work, but even so …’ DS Regan grimaced. Jake assumed she would have seen what was left of Lewis, and sympathised with her. A blackened and burnt-to-the-bone corpse wasn’t a pleasant sight. At least the man had been unconscious. He tried to salve his conscience with that knowledge.

  ‘I’ve spoken to Zoe,’ Regan confided. ‘Only briefly, as she’s still very weak. She’s told us it was Lewis she was seeing. I had to cut the interview short before we were able to establish whether he was the person who called on her before she fell. We have the eyewitness statement. It’s not one hundred per cent reliable, so we’ll need her to confirm it, but it looks as if Dean Miller might be off the hook.’

  ‘That’s excellent news.’ Jake felt another surge of relief, though his gut twisted as he thought about the decision Emily had also had to make all those years ago. Had she chosen not to go through with her pregnancy, Ben would never have been part of his life. The boy had been hard work since hitting puberty, but Jake couldn’t imagine an existence without him. He loved him. He was going to have to work hard at convincing him how fiercely, that he would do anything to protect him – even lie for him, which he had, and would keep doing if he had to. In his mind, Ben’s life had been blighted enough, learning about his parentage. The kid was struggling with his conscience; that was obvious. He’d realised, though, that in going to the police, he would be allowing Lewis to achieve what he’d set out to do: destroy their family.

  ‘And Natasha?’ he asked, wondering if they’d made any progress with their investigations into the hit-and-run. Aware now that Lewis had wanted to destroy his and Emily’s relationship, destroy whatever confidence she’d found by ruining the lives of their patients, the life she’d made for herself, Jake had wondered whether he might have been involved with Natasha too.

  ‘We’re sti
ll working in the dark there,’ Regan admitted, with a disconsolate shrug.

  ‘Do you have any physical evidence?’ Trying to sound casually interested, Jake dug a little.

  ‘We have some tyre impressions,’ she offered, and his mind shot immediately to the damage to his car. ‘I’m not sure they’ll be much use, though. They’re not clear enough to identify the manufacturer. There’s no chance of picking out any individual identifying characteristics. I’m thinking we’ll have to wait until we can talk to Natasha herself.’

  ‘Hopefully that will be soon,’ Jake said. ‘I’ll check how she’s doing and let you have any information I can glean.’

  ‘Thanks. The consultant thinks she’ll make a good recovery, but he’s not overly forthcoming.’

  ‘Protective of his patients.’ Jake understood that.

  ‘Definitely.’ Regan rolled her eyes. ‘I’d better get going. A detective’s work is never done,’ she added. Jake managed a smile. It was obviously her catchphrase. ‘I’ll keep you informed if we do come up with anything regarding the letters.’

  ‘Cheers.’ He allowed himself to breathe out.

  Speaking to one of the nurses, Jake was surprised to learn that his father was here. Checking again on Edward, perhaps. He’d been a couple of times to Jake’s knowledge. Walking towards the side room Natasha was in, he pondered his relationship with Tom. He supposed he should try and make more of an effort to get on with him. It was good of him to look out for Edward, and he’d obviously been trying to cover for him or Ben, thinking they might be dragged into the enquiry. He was Ben and Millie’s grandfather at the end of the day, and a more amicable personal relationship might make for a better working one.

  About to go into Natasha’s room, he paused. His father was in there with her. Frowning, Jake watched through the viewing pane in the door. Why would Tom be turning off the alarms on the life support machine?

  A second later, he understood. His heart slammed against his chest as he watched him reach towards her breathing tube. Jesus Christ. He hadn’t been covering for them. He’d fabricated the whole story. He was covering for himself.

  Jake shoved the door open. ‘Don’t you fucking dare,’ he warned him.

  Fifty

  ‘I couldn’t have her broadcasting things all over the village.’ Tom looked beseechingly at Jake as he was led away by the police. ‘We were making progress. After all these years, you’d finally started looking at me with something other than contempt. I couldn’t have her spoil what we were building together, don’t you see?’

  Strangely, Jake didn’t feel contempt any more. Other than pity, he wasn’t sure he felt anything.

  ‘I never meant to hurt your mother, Jake. I never stopped thinking about her. There hasn’t been a day when what happened to her hasn’t haunted me.’ Tom searched his eyes hopefully. Jake turned away.

  ‘Jake,’ Tom called desperately. ‘Please …’

  Jake kept walking. He had no idea what his so-called father thought they’d been building together, but it wasn’t fucking fences, that was for sure.

  Banging out of the entrance doors, he strode across the car park, cursing the tears that slid from his eyes. Don’t. He swiped them away. The man wasn’t worth wasting the emotion on. He never had been.

  ‘Jake, wait.’ DS Regan caught up with him as he reached his car. ‘Are you all right?’ she asked, placing a hand on his arm.

  Jake laughed sardonically. ‘Never felt better,’ he said.

  Regan gave him a smile of commiseration. ‘They have a lot to answer for sometimes, don’t they, parents?’

  Too choked now to speak, he nodded and dropped his gaze.

  ‘Your father’s sins are not yours, Jake,’ she said, and hesitated. ‘Mine was a teacher, a headmaster actually.’

  Sensing from her silence that there was more, he looked quizzically back at her.

  ‘He liked children. Not me. Fortunately,’ she added, smiling tightly.

  He saw the flash of humiliation in her eyes and understood. ‘Sorry,’ he managed.

  She shrugged, her gaze flicking down and back. ‘It’s okay,’ she assured him. ‘I’ve moved on. You need to do the same. You’re not responsible for your father’s actions. Let go of the guilt and get on with your life. Be there for your family.’

  Jake couldn’t help thinking he was responsible in some way for all that had happened. In coming back here, attempting to build a life from the ashes, digging up old ghosts that were better left buried, he’d lost sight of what mattered. His children. Emily. He should have been there for her. He hadn’t been.

  In his car, he leaned his head against the headrest and tried unsuccessfully to get his breathing under control. As for letting go of the guilt, he didn’t think he would ever be able to do that.

  Pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes, he swallowed hard and reached for his phone to tell Emily he was coming home.

  Could they get through this? he wondered. Come out the other side of it intact? Would Emily want to stay with him once he’d told her all he had to? He thought again of Liz Regan’s comment about him not being responsible for his father’s actions. He couldn’t help wondering whether, if he hadn’t despised him so passionately, Tom might not have been driven to do the unforgivable thing he’d done. But he’d tried, hadn’t he? To let go of the hatred. He’d been wrong, as it turned out. His father was fundamentally who he was. Jake wasn’t responsible, though growing up he’d felt he was. In the same way, Ben wasn’t responsible for his father’s actions. Whatever happened between him and Emily, he had to make sure the boy knew that.

  Jake was responsible for his own mistakes, though. He couldn’t escape that fact.

  Fifty-One

  Emily

  Emily had no idea what to do. She was so tired. She sat in the kitchen for a while, too stunned to even contemplate making a cup of tea – as if that would help, as if anything could. Wine might possibly. A vat of it. But she wouldn’t go down that route. Wouldn’t drinking herself into a stupor make her exactly what Paul Lewis had wanted her to be: a woman out of control? Dependent on drugs? Emotionally volatile?

  Pulling herself to her feet, she headed for the lounge. Bypassing her vitamin pills on the worktop next to the kettle, she smiled ironically. She kept a bottle here and one at the surgery. He’d obviously accessed the house through the back door Ben constantly left open. A shudder ran through her at the thought that he’d been here, in the very spot she was standing, with his son just a floor above him. Obviously he’d rooted through her things at the surgery. He really had known her, hadn’t he? Her rituals at least, her dependencies. Fury surging through her that she’d allowed such a despicable human being access to her and her family, she scooped the tablets up, thrusting them in the bin. She wouldn’t need those any more. Vitamins or amphetamines. She would make time for herself. She would be there for her children, but she would look after herself first. Eat sensibly, exercise. She was no good to anyone unless she was in possession of her faculties and fully functioning.

  Finding Jake in the lounge, his hands thrust in his pockets, staring through the window, she took a breath. ‘We need to talk,’ she said.

  He turned to face her, and her heart twisted. He looked utterly exhausted, jaded to his very bones. She wanted to go to him, hold him, have him hold her and make this all go away. But she couldn’t. It just wasn’t possible to close her eyes. She wasn’t sure it ever would be.

  Jake’s gaze flicked up towards the bedrooms.

  He was thinking about Ben overhearing, she guessed. ‘Outside?’ she suggested. The garden was big enough to allow them some privacy. It was her thinking place. She would be able to get her thoughts in better order there.

  The evening was mild, the piquant smell of newly mown grass fresh on the air. It was a beautiful garden, a tranquil place. Emily had been so glad her demons had allowed her to overcome her fears and live here. Would she be able to in future? Her heart wrenched painfully again at the thought th
at she might have to leave her home, leaving her only good memories behind. She’d had no plans to.

  Waiting until they were well out of earshot of the house, she broached the most urgent subject first. ‘Ben’s wondering whether he should go to the police,’ she said.

  She felt Jake’s gaze snap to hers. ‘Did he say he’d caused the fire on purpose?’

  She shook her head. ‘He says he went there because Millie told him she thought you were there, that I’d followed you. He said he saw us come out. That he wasn’t thinking about anything other than confronting him. What he planned to do then …’

  Jake nodded.

  Glancing at him, Emily could see his uncertainty; that his thinking was on a par with hers: that Ben might have gone to the garage intending to do what he did, despite his denial.

  ‘Do you want him to?’ he asked.

  ‘No,’ Emily answered honestly. ‘But if he can’t live with his conscience … I misjudged him,’ she admitted. ‘I imagined his genes might make him the cold, unfeeling person his father was. I was wrong. His volatility is more to do with rampant teenage hormones and his world falling apart around him. That’s my fault, not Ben’s.’

  ‘You can’t blame yourself, Emily,’ Jake said forcefully. ‘I wasn’t here. I should have been.’

  She didn’t pursue it, though she might have done, because he was right: he hadn’t been. Raking over old coals wouldn’t achieve anything, though. She needed to let go of all the guilt and the negativity and move forward. ‘Will you support him? If he chooses to go to the police, will you be there for him?’

  Jake didn’t hesitate. ‘He’s my son,’ he said adamantly. ‘As long as he wants me to be, I’ll always be there for him.’

  Emily closed her eyes, breathing in the clean air, listening to the soft lap of the mill stream as they walked towards it. ‘I tried to save her,’ she said, stopping on the bank. ‘My sister, I tried to save her. I couldn’t.’