by Louise Stone
‘Now, I think you might be more upset by this.’ She tilted her chin. ‘But you don’t need to be, because we can be together now.’ She lifted her hair to show me dark red markings on her neck that had been hidden by her hair. ‘He tried to strangle me, Mum. I couldn’t let him do that.’
I let out a long, shaky breath, my body cold with fear and shock.
As she walked forward again, she talked. ‘I sent Robert a text from Dad’s phone so that he’d come over.’
‘What did it say?’ I whispered, my voice hoarse.
‘That he knew about you and Robert, that he wanted to talk. I told him to use the French doors at the back in case any press were still around.’ She nodded. ‘Robert agreed right away. Of course,’ she shrugged, ‘Dad didn’t answer the door because…’ She pointed upstairs. ‘Well, you saw him.’
‘Robert came in here.’ Zoe laughed. ‘He was quite surprised to see me again. Anyway, it didn’t take long.’
I pushed past Zoe now, my breathing laboured and rushed into the room. The back of a figure slumped against the sofa was undeniably Robert. I gasped in anguish as, even by the light of the moon, I could see that he was dead.
‘Robert,’ my hand rushed out to his face.
‘Stop!’ Zoe said, running up behind me and pulling me backwards. ‘You can’t touch him. The police will think you’re involved. It will all be fine, as long as you do exactly what I say.’ She was breathing raggedly. ‘I’ve checked, Mum. He hasn’t got a pulse. He’s dead.’
I lay back on the carpet, stunned. My own daughter was telling me how to avoid going to jail for murder. She had planned every step of it.
‘Zoe,’ I said, pleading, as I brought myself up. ‘Did he really try and strangle you or was he trying to defend himself?’ Hot tears coursed down my cheeks and when she didn’t answer, I let out a wail. ‘This is wrong. This is so wrong, my darling girl.’
She sat next to me now and took my hand. ‘No, this is good. It means we can be there for each other.’
Nausea rose inside me and I leaned over, retching.
‘Mum, are you okay? You’re going to be okay.’
I breathed deeply through my nose. ‘Darling, listen to what you’re saying. You let Dad die, you killed Robert. This is bad, so bad.’ I had resorted to treating her like she was five again. ‘We must tell the police.’
She looked at me, hurt. ‘You would tell the police after everything I’ve just done for you?’ She let out a loud whimper. ‘I would go to prison for life.’ She shook her head. ‘Then, you’ll lose everyone. You’ve lost Dad, Robert, you’re likely to lose your job, and then you’ll have lost me. You’ll have nothing left, nothing at all.’
I felt wave upon wave of crushing despair. ‘Zoe, do you know what you’ve done? I don’t think you understand.’
‘I do! I do! I’ve brought us back together.’
I rose, shrugging Zoe’s hand off. ‘I have to ring the police, we have to think rationally here.’ I paced across the floor, then went into the kitchen. I could hear Zoe’s urgent footsteps behind me. As I went to grab the phone, I saw Zoe pull a knife from the block on the side and slash the phone wire.
‘You can’t do this, Mum. I won’t let you.’
I sobbed. ‘We have to tell the police.’
I took my mobile out of my coat pocket and was relieved to see I had a signal. She went to take my phone but then changed her mind and stepped back instead.
As I waited for the phone to connect, she said, ‘Mum, this is your last chance to show me you love me.’
29
I made the call and then we both sat at the kitchen table waiting. Zoe was opposite me, her face pale and sweaty. It took Carter eight minutes to get to our house. It was the longest eight minutes of my life.
The bell rang and I got up, my movements jerky and highly strung. Zoe didn’t move. I went to the door.
Carter looked at me gravely, a handful of officers and paramedics behind him. ‘She’s here?’
‘Yes.’ I nodded and moved aside to let him pass. I followed him through to the kitchen where his eyes came to rest on Zoe.
‘Zoe, glad to see you home.’
She nodded, mute, her eyes on me.
‘May I?’ He indicated upstairs and into the living room.
Zoe and I stood in silence while Carter and his accompanying officers collected evidence and the paramedics pronounced both bodies officially deceased.
Carter asked to speak to us individually. An officer was assigned to look after Zoe while Carter spoke to me in the dining room.
‘So I’ve been to your office and the park. I’ve seen the graffiti on the walls and now you are telling me that Zoe planned to run away all along?’ He frowned. ‘Then you come back here and find your husband and your lover…’ His words trailed off.
‘Yes,’ I nodded. ‘When I told Stephen about Robert he was furious, beside himself. He’s always had a temper, but with the stress of Zoe going missing, things have escalated. I’d thought he was having an affair himself, but when I saw the note…’ I trailed off, weighed down by the enormity of what I was doing.
He studied my face and I concentrated on my breathing and controlling any strange nervous ticks.
‘You didn’t know about the gambling and the debt?’
‘No! I thought he was having an affair, paying for a mistress or an escort service or something. Being an accountant, he always handled all of our finances.’
‘We found irregularities in his bank accounts – that was what we were questioning him about. I thought you knew.’
‘Well, I didn’t,’ I snapped. This much at least was true.
Carter didn’t say anything for a minute.
‘Zoe seems to be coping remarkably well considering she has just come home and found her father has committed suicide.’
‘She’s not coping.’ I frowned. ‘Zoe is a good actress. She’s probably in shock. When I came back, I saw Robert attacking Zoe. You’ve seen the marks on her neck.’ I stifled a sob, convincing even myself with my performance. ‘He was calling her names, blaming her for running away and leading me to accuse him of raping her. It all happened so quickly. She was choking. I grabbed the bronze off the side to protect my daughter. Anyone would have done the same.’
After a few more minutes, I could feel he had no more to push me with and he let me go. Zoe assumed my position and I waited nervously in the kitchen with a uniformed officer who made me a cup of tea that I couldn’t bring myself to touch.
‘Go on,’ the young man insisted, ‘I know you’ll be needing it for the shock.’
I nodded obligingly and drank. It was important I act the part, but I was in shock; little did he know it ran deeper than he could have imagined.
After an hour or so, Carter came through with Zoe and nodded at me. I pulled my daughter into my arms – it seemed like the kind of thing a mother should do for her daughter in this situation. ‘Zoe confirms your story. We’ll need to take her to hospital so her neck can be examined and photographed, but for the time being, we will leave you to it. I am, once again, so sorry for your loss.’
I gave him a small, grateful smile though he could never know how deep my wounds ran.
‘Of course,’ he said, looking at Zoe, ‘I will have to see if the college and park authorities want to press charges, as technically you could be arrested for vandalism.’ She nodded, her eyes empty. He frowned. ‘Anyway, I’d recommend you both stay at a friend’s house tonight. We will need to collect evidence from the scene and I’m sure you don’t want to be here right now. We will take your official statements tomorrow at the police station.’
‘I don’t know where to go,’ I said quickly. How was I meant to begin again with my daughter?
Zoe turned to me, adopting the role of mother, and took me into a firm, secure embrace. ‘Come on, Mum,’ she said in my ear, ‘we’re going to be okay.’ I looked over her shoulder at Carter and caught the quizzical look in his eye.
I nodded
, a sob escaping my throat. ‘We’ll go to a hotel for tonight, how about that? I presume I can use the credit card.’
I felt sick, unable to think. I had no money, not a penny to my name. My husband had committed suicide, leaving me with debts the depths of which I had yet to discover. My little girl had just committed cold-blooded murder and she looked happy, relieved. I had lost everything.
‘Yes, let’s do that,’ Zoe encouraged me.
Carter nodded. ‘I’ll get my officer to take you to a hotel and I’ll have someone bring you to the station tomorrow.’ He paused. ‘You might want to collect a few things. We might be processing the crime scene for a few days.’
We might be processing the crime scene for a few days…
His words spun around my head. Did he know we were lying? Did he know that I was doing the only thing I could think of to prove to my daughter how much I loved her?
I didn’t know, but I looked at Zoe and tried to adopt her calmness. As we packed up some clothes and Zoe dutifully took down the picture from the mantelpiece of her and Stephen, resting it carefully at the top of her bag, ensuring Carter saw her doing it, I was horrified by her calculation. My daughter, my beloved little girl.
Carter told me he would be in contact first thing in the morning and we walked in silence to the waiting patrol vehicle. The neighbours’ curtains twitched with curiosity and, as we pulled away from the house, Zoe smiled at me and I smiled back. She was all I had left. I’d never let her out of my sight again.
If you enjoyed Never Out of Sight read on for an exclusive excerpt from Louise Stone’s chilling psychological thriller S is for Stranger!
Fracture for fracture, eye for eye, tooth for tooth.
As he has injured the other, so he is to be injured.
Leviticus chapter 24: verse 20
1
September 2011
I tapped the rim of the table with my right forefinger: one, two, three. Bad things didn’t happen when I counted to three.
‘Don’t you like strawberry?’ I asked, twiddling my straw with my other hand. ‘You can have mine.’ I pushed the chocolate milkshake in her direction and she shook her head. I gave in and took it back. ‘So, how’s school?’
‘OK.’
We had been playing this game for over an hour now: I asked the questions and she offered one-word answers. Licking my lips, I went in for another drag of the sweet, sickly chocolate drink. I turned to look out the window and pulled a face. Milkshakes were not my thing. I had thought it was what all eight-year-old girls liked doing – eating junk food and visiting Claire’s jewellery shop.
‘You don’t like it, do you, Mummy?’ Amy asked me and nodded toward the milkshake.
I smiled – caught out. ‘Not really. What about you?’
Amy revealed the first small smile of the day. ‘No.’ She looked down at her lap. ‘I don’t like milkshakes. Daddy knows I don’t like milkshakes.’
‘I just thought –’
Amy looked up. ‘It’s OK, Mummy. You don’t live with me so only Daddy knows.’
I felt the familiar stab of guilt. ‘Right, yes.’ I picked up the menu. ‘What would you prefer?’ I needed to face it; I was out of touch.
‘I’m not hungry. Daddy made me pancakes for breakfast.’ She slid down further in her seat. ‘When did Daddy say we should go home? To Daddy’s home.’
My face fell. ‘Um, he said four o’clock.’ I looked at my watch, tapped its face three times. I hoped Amy hadn’t noticed. ‘It’s only two-thirty. Do you want to head back?’ I said cheerily; too cheerily. I mean, was the day going so badly that my daughter wanted to return home to her father already?
‘No…’ She fought tears. ‘I wish we were a family again, like my friends at school have.’
‘I know, but you’re no different to anyone else. You know that, right?’
She gave a small nod. ‘I guess. My bestest friend said she wanted her parents to split up.’
‘Really?’ I said, raising my eyebrows.
‘Yeah, because she thinks it’s nice to get two of everything.’ She paused. ‘I told her it’s not nice.’
I frowned and, desperate to keep her happy, I offered, ‘Shall we play I-spy?’
She pulled a face. ‘Mummy, you’re not very good at this game.’
‘Shame.’ I shrugged my shoulders and looked away. ‘Because I’ve already come up with one.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘Okkaaay.’
I grinned. ‘I spy something beginning with B.’
Amy looked behind her, swivelling in her seat. ‘Burger?’
I shook my head.
She furrowed her brows. ‘Book?’
I shook my head again.
‘Are you playing it right?’
I nodded.
She scanned the restaurant another time, spotting a young girl playing with a doll. ‘Barbie!’
‘Nope.’
She giggled. ‘Mummy, are you sure you’re playing properly?’
‘Uh-huh.’ I smiled. ‘Shall I tell you?’
‘OK.’
‘Big nose.’
‘Mummy!’ She squealed with laughter. ‘That’s silly.’
‘Oh, really?’ I played innocent. ‘Your turn.’
She giggled. ‘OK.’ Her eyes flicked around the room and she twisted in her seat, looked behind her, and then she said, ‘S.’
‘S?’
‘Yup.’ She nodded happily. ‘Go quicker. It moves.’
‘Uh-oh.’ I looked around the restaurant, my eyes skimming the counter. ‘Sugar?’
‘Sugar!’ She shook her head firmly. ‘No.’
‘Skirt.’
‘It’s not moving!’
‘It does if the person who’s wearing it moves.’
‘No.’
‘Hmm.’ I shrugged. ‘Give in.’
She pointed outside. ‘Stranger. That lady’s been staring at us for ages.’
‘You never told me we could name things outside too!’
Amy dropped her head into her arms on the table, in fits of giggles. ‘My rules.’ She looked up, laughing. ‘The lady’s gone now.’
I shook my head. ‘Stranger, huh?’ I smiled. ‘That was too good.’
‘Yeah,’ Amy nodded, ‘she was looking at you.’
‘Really?’ I turned my head and looked up and down the high street. ‘She was probably just waiting for someone, or thought I was somebody else.’
I sat forward again, tapped the edge of the table three times, as Amy started scrabbling around in her Peppa Pig canvas bag. ‘I made something for you.’ She drew out a piece of A4 card folded in two and handed it to me. The front was covered in glitter and beads.
I opened it, my hands trembling slightly. Inside it read: I love you, Mummy. My vision blurred over with tears and I brushed them away with the back of my hand. ‘Ames, it’s beautiful. Thank you so much.’ I pushed down the lump in my throat. ‘Did you make it at school?’
She shook her head. ‘No, last Tuesday. With Daddy.’
‘Really? With Daddy?’
‘I felt sad and Daddy said we could play art time.’ She stumbled over her next words, ‘S-so, I made you a card.’
I sighed and put my hand out across the table. ‘Ames.’
She didn’t give me hers and instead traced the outline of Peppa Pig with her forefinger.
‘Well,’ I said, changing the subject and withdrawing my hand, ‘are you looking forward to October? Going to the fair? For my birthday?’ I smiled. ‘That’s only a month away.’
She nodded glumly. ‘I want to go to Claire’s now.’
I put my hand up and signalled to the waitress for the cheque. ‘Do you know what you want?’
Amy smiled. ‘A pink bracelet with a star on it. Frannie from school says it makes dreams come true.’
‘That does sound good.’ I leant in and put my card on the table. ‘Are you allowed to tell me your dreams? I know I’m not meant to ask.’
‘That you and Daddy aren’t c
ross at each other,’ she said simply.
I took the card machine from the hovering waitress and typed in my number, grateful for an excuse to busy myself with something else. I could have seen that one coming and I walked right in – now I was stuck for words. One thing I knew was that there were some things in life that a charm bracelet or any amount of dreaming couldn’t make happen.
I’d have loved to tell her my own dream: I wanted to take her home with me. Run away, if necessary. I knew that Amy might never understand how her father had controlled everything in my life: how I felt trapped and how one glass of wine in the evening quickly led to a bottle, and how I eventually yearned for the bitter hit of vodka in the mornings too.
Amy stood up and shrugged on her pink duffel coat.
‘That’s nice. Is it new?’ I pointed at the coat.
‘Yeah.’
‘Did Daddy buy it for you?’
‘Yeah. Well, it came from Sarah.’ She looked at the ground. ‘I still like the one you bought me, though.’
Sarah. I knew very little about her but I did know that Amy appeared to adore Paul’s new woman. Once, and only once, I had sat outside the school gates in my car waiting for Sarah to appear and pick up Amy. She was disappointingly slim and good-looking, maybe a bit obviously so, and my guts twisted when I saw how Amy bounded up to her and hugged her with the kind of affection I hadn’t seen or felt from Amy in a long time.
‘I’m sure you’ve grown out of that one by now. Besides,’ I smiled, ‘it’s very nice. Pink is much better.’
She walked in front of me and I thought: I could do it now. Take her away from here. We could set up a new life elsewhere. I knew that I could find a job – my career was the one thing I had focused on over the last few years – and Amy would soon adapt to a new school, new friends.
Once outside, she turned, took my hand and, as if reading my mind, said, ‘You know that thing where I have to tell the people who I want to live with?’ She scuffed the toe of her black patent shoe on the ground. ‘I don’t really want to choose between you and Daddy.’
‘I know, sweetheart. No one’s really asking you to do that.’ I straightened her coat collar. ‘Anyway, they’ll be really nice and easy to talk to, I’m sure.’
‘I think I want to live with you, Mummy.’