The Perfect Father: the most gripping and twisty thriller you'll read in 2020
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‘Thank you,’ I say, although I don’t really know what I am thanking him for.
Viv puts her arm around me.
‘We were just on the way to see Mrs Morgan’s daughter,’ DS Tyler says, and the doctor smiles.
‘Of course.’
Mrs Morgan’s daughter.
My heart begins to pound. Surely it can’t be this easy? I wonder if anyone checks these things. If anyone does the kind of due diligence you’d expect and hope for when it comes to child safety, or if they’ll just believe me, the wife, the mother of his child, and ask no further questions.
I can barely speak, I am breathless with fear that my whole world will collapse as soon as I say what I really want to say. That instead of putting her arm around me to comfort me, DS Tyler will pull out a pair of handcuffs and take me away with her. That she’ll know that this situation was exactly what I have been hoping for.
‘Would you like me to call any of your husband’s relatives?’ DS Tyler says.
‘No,’ I say, glancing over at Viv, who won’t meet my eye. ‘Not now . . . thank you. I can do that . . . I’d like to go and see my daughter first, please. I want to talk to the doctors, find out exactly what happened to her. And then . . . then I’ll visit Rob.’
One Week Earlier
Esther
It takes a lot of pride-swallowing to do this. But my pride is what got me into this situation in the first place.
I tell Anna I have a doctor’s appointment and arrange to meet Viv at a bar in Balham. She’s late of course and, as I sit there waiting for her, I sip a sparkling water and run over in my mind exactly what I have to do.
When she arrives, I order her a cup of ginger tea – the only thing she says she feels like drinking at the moment – and we sit opposite one another.
‘How are you feeling?’ I ask. ‘Not too sick, I hope?’
‘No,’ she says. ‘Just knackered really. And don’t fancy my usual things.’
‘Glad to hear you’re OK,’ I say, smiling at her. ‘I’m so pleased for you.’
‘Thanks, chicken,’ she replies, sipping her drink and eyeing me through the steam evaporating from it. ‘Are you OK? You look . . . I dunno. What was it you wanted to talk to me about? You sounded stressed on the phone.’
‘I need to ask you something,’ I say. ‘And I want you to be honest with me. No protecting my feelings, none of that shit.’
Her eyebrows rise. I don’t normally swear.
‘Sure,’ she says.
‘What do you know about Sarah Harrison?’ I pause. ‘Or more specifically, what do you know about Sarah Harrison and Rob?’
She sighs, pulling her top lip inwards.
‘Why?’
‘I need to know,’ I say. ‘I now know that she’s his ex . . . that something happened with them.’
‘God, Esty,’ she says, tilting her head. ‘I don’t . . . why don’t you ask him?’
‘Viv,’ I say, my voice cracking. ‘I’m your best friend. I need you to be honest with me. Please.’
She leans back on the leather chair.
‘I don’t know much for sure,’ she says. ‘It’s all just rumour and gossip – you know. I know they dated for a long time. And it didn’t end well.’
‘What happened?’ I say, my heart thundering with desperation. ‘How did they break up?’
‘I don’t think it was anything that bad – they just grew apart and she dumped him. But he didn’t take it very well. Got a bit obsessive. Stalkerish, you know. I don’t know anything for sure—’
‘What did he do?’ I say, urgently. ‘Just tell me.’
‘It’s all just rumours, Est,’ she says. ‘You should really talk to him.’
‘Tell me. Please.’
She sighs, looks over my shoulder at the rain drizzling down outside.
‘OK, but you have to know that this is just hearsay, stuff I’ve heard on the grapevine. I haven’t got any evidence to back it up, and anyway it was ages ago. And I only found out about a lot of it a few months ago. Otherwise I would have told you before you got involved with him.’
‘Told me what?’
She sighs.
‘Someone I was working with on my last play said that he abducted her.’
‘What?’
‘Drove her off to the middle of nowhere in his car or something, and wouldn’t let her out. Apparently, at one point he pulled over and banged his head on the steering wheel repeatedly, threatening to kill himself if she didn’t take him back. She was terrified. I think he ended up crashing the car. But I don’t know any more. Honest. And this is all years ago, like when they were twenty-five or something. It could all just be exaggeration.’
‘She took out a restraining order against him,’ I say. ‘So probably not.’
‘What?’
‘And he’s broken it recently. She sent him a text message warning him off.’
‘Oh God, Esther,’ Viv says. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘I’ve been such an idiot, Viv. It’s all such a mess . . .’
‘What’s happened?’ she says.
‘It’s Kim. Rob lied about . . . well, everything.’
I tell her the whole sorry story – including the bit about the money. She listens with a far more sympathetic ear than I could ever have expected.
‘It’s a complete mess,’ I say. ‘Jeremy says my best bet is to persuade Kim and Robin to agree to me formally adopting Riley. And then I can leave him. I could fight him in the courts for access, but he would definitely oppose that. The stuff with the money is something, but it’s so hard to prove. It’s my word against his – and we’re married, after all, me giving him twenty thousand pounds isn’t that unusual, and admitting what I thought it was for doesn’t exactly paint me in a brilliant light either. Plus, he’s never hurt Riley, never put her at risk, never done anything that could be seen as damaging to her. God knows the lies he could spin if he was clever enough about it. He could claim that I never liked Riley, that I was only fighting for custody now to spite him.’
‘But if you adopted her, legally, he couldn’t stop you from having contact with her?’
‘Exactly. It’s just a piece of paper, just a technicality, but it’s everything,’ I say.
‘We need to track down Sarah,’ Viv says, her eyes lighting up. ‘Surely with her testimony, you’d have a stronger chance? And with everything you went through – how could any court judge you for wanting to stop Kim from having an abortion? You were in a state, trying to do the right thing. I don’t see how anyone could paint that in a bad light.’
‘I hope you’re right,’ I say. ‘But I don’t know . . .’
‘I’ll make some calls,’ Viv says. ‘Don’t worry. We’ll find Sarah, and we’ll nail that fucker once and for all.’
‘I’ll do bath time,’ I say as Robin turns off In the Night Garden and reaches down to lift Riley up from the sofa. Her wide eyes are unfocused and she blinks slowly as I come towards her.
Robin straightens up.
‘Oh, OK,’ he says. ‘If you’re sure.’
‘Of course,’ I say, smiling at him.
I try to remember a time when I pursued him, when I was the gusher, the one making great statements of true love. They must have existed, once. But no matter how deep I forage, I can’t find any traces of that woman – no, that girl. She’s gone. All these years of our dysfunctional relationship have battered her beyond recognition.
‘It’s why I came home early.’
‘You look tired,’ he says, tilting his head to one side. ‘Honestly, why don’t you just relax? She’s knackered today, she’ll be a fusspot. Get a glass of wine. I’ll do it. I know how busy your days are. It’s important you have some downtime.’
‘Don’t be silly! I want to do it,’ I say, turning my back to him and scooping Riley up.
‘Great,’ Robin says, a spark of confusion in his eyes. I have to try harder to mask my true feelings. ‘I’ll get started on dinner then.’
Later on, once Riley is tucked up in bed for the night, I steel myself. I take my seat on the bar stool at the island unit and watch as Rob prepares dinner for us. Whatever was bothering him the other day seems to have dissipated. He’s in one of his rather manic ‘up’ moods, and has decided to make pasta.
Cooking has been his obsession over the past few years. I think of all the times he has lost his temper because food has stuck to the pan, or he’s overcooked steak by a minute or two, or his triple-cooked chips have burnt on their third cook, and I remember the way my heart used to pound with fear at his fury, at the unpredictable nature of it. Why. Can’t. I. Get. Anything. Right! he would shout, at no one. What might he break this time? I always justified it as OK, because it wasn’t directed at me. No matter that it consumed me, that it filled the air between us like toxic smoke.
‘I need to talk to you about something,’ I say, my voice trembling slightly. I cough, swallow some of the white wine I poured myself. ‘It’s about Riley.’
His ears prick up at that and he turns around, spatula in hand, an expectant look on his face.
This is how I get your attention, I think. This and only this. Is she the only thing you truly care about?
What does your version of caring look like, anyway? Possessing, controlling, owning?
‘We need to get the ball rolling again with the official adoption process,’ I say. ‘Kim must have a price. If she wants more money, then that’s fine. We’ll fucking do it.’
I don’t know where the swearing has come from, but Robin notices. It feels good to be using his own lies against him.
‘What if her turning up at Viv’s party was just a warning? What if she is planning to come and claim her?’ I say, my heart pounding. I’ve never been a very good actress. ‘She’s my daughter. I’ve raised her, provided for her, held her when she’s cried . . . But what if Kim decided she wanted her back? We wouldn’t be able to stop her. God knows what that woman is capable of. If she can lie about the money she’s already received . . .’
Something unreadable passes across Robin’s face, and he turns back to the frying pan, pushing the mushrooms around with the spatula. He’s thinking about the fact that she’s dying, that he won’t have to worry about her for much longer. But he doesn’t want to have to tell me that, doesn’t want the whole ball of thread to unwind.
‘I know,’ he says lightly to the mushrooms. Then he pauses again and turns towards me. ‘You’re right. But we can’t give her more money. I refuse to. And no court in the land would give Kim custody over us. You’ve got parental responsibility; Riley calls you ‘Mum’. The adoption thing is just a piece of paper.’
It’s not though, is it; it’s your way of keeping Riley from me! I want to shout, but instead I inhale slowly and think of Kim.
She had texted him earlier to say she was happy to go through with the adoption. That she wanted to meet to discuss it. It was all part of our plan. To uncover his true motives.
Apparently, he didn’t reply.
‘It’s not just a piece of paper to me,’ I say. ‘It’s important.’
Robin shrugs, turning back to the cooking.
‘Dinner’s nearly up,’ he says, as though he’s created something amazing. ‘Do you want to get some bowls out?’
I glare at his turned back as I lean down to take some out of the cupboard, placing them with meticulous precision on the island unit, adding cutlery and a wine glass for him.
He serves the food then sits beside me, making a big fuss of how delicious it is, perhaps he’s missed his calling as a chef, just five ingredients in this, don’t I know? It tastes pretty bland to me, but I eat it slowly, hoping he can sense my mood.
‘Cheer up, grumps,’ he says, laying a hand over mine. His touch repulses me, but I don’t move. ‘Riley loves you. You’re her mum. You have no reason to be insecure.’
‘It’s not just my insecurity,’ I say. ‘It’s for the future. What if something happened to you? Or her. Kim.’
‘Nothing is going to happen to me,’ he says. ‘And as for her . . . she was probably just bored that night, trying to put the wind up your sails. Looks like she succeeded. Honestly, I don’t think you have anything to worry about.’
I squeeze my eyes shut. It’s so difficult for me to ignore the urge to scream that I know he’s lying, that I know she has been pestering him for months for access to Riley. That he blocked her on Facebook, ignored all her calls and messages, that he wants to erase her from our lives completely.
‘Even so. I don’t trust her. I want you to get in touch with her,’ I say, lobbing my final grenade into his happy, relaxed evening. It feels good, even though there’s an edge of danger to it. ‘I want us to have a meeting. A proper meeting. I want to ask her face to face why she won’t let me adopt Riley. Maybe I can change her mind.’
I hold my breath, hardly daring to look at him and see his reaction.
He has a chance now. To come clean, to tell me that Kim has been in touch.
There’s a beat, and I imagine precisely what he’s thinking, the little cogs in his brain whirring to work out what’s best for him.
‘Sure, Tot,’ he says, and he stops eating. He puts down his fork and stares directly into my eyes. ‘I know how patient you’ve been with this situation, and I appreciate it. I know it’s been tough. So, if that’s what you want, that’s what we’ll do. I’ll try and track her down. Now, tell me, what do you think of your pasta? Good, isn’t it?’
Esther
I’m at my desk the next morning, staring at our campaign budget spreadsheet but unable to absorb anything in it, when my phone rings. It’s Viv.
‘Hi,’ I say, picking up before the first ring ends. ‘Everything OK?’
‘I’ve been in touch with Sarah, and she’s agreed to meet you,’ she says. ‘Are you free today? Lunchtime? She’s got an hour before her show starts.’
‘What? I . . . er, yeah, sure,’ I say, looking up at Sarina sitting across the floor on the other side of the office. I wonder if she’s noticed how distracted I’ve been lately. Ever since she promoted me. The irony. ‘Of course.’
‘I’ve already called Kim; she’s on her way over to you now.’
‘Fuck,’ I say, and I almost hear Viv smiling on the other end. She likes the new, ballsy me. I just feel ashamed I kept her locked up for so long. ‘I mean, great. Thanks so much, Viv. Really, I mean it. I’m so grateful.’
‘It’s nothing,’ she says. ‘I just wish I could join you, but I’ve got a midwife appointment. You better call me straight away though, as soon as you’ve spoken to her.’
There’s a silence on the line.
‘And Esther?’
‘Yes?’
‘Good luck.’
I make my way to the bar just by the Tate Modern that Viv suggested. Kim is already there, sitting in the window.
It’s a shock to see her when I get closer. She looks bigger than she did at Vivienne’s party, which was only a week ago, and most surprisingly of all she’s wearing a tracksuit and trainers. I’ve never seen her in anything other than heels or boots. The change every time I see her makes me realise how little time we have left. I expected her to be wasting away, but instead she looks bloated. She’s wrapped in a huge scarf, and glances up at me as I take my seat beside her.
‘What are you drinking?’ I say, gesturing towards the glass in front of her.
‘Gin; it’s the only thing I can stomach at the moment,’ she replies. ‘And yes, I know, I look terrible. Don’t worry: in a couple of days once I’ve got my fake tan sorted I’ll start to look human again. A
nd don’t mind the puffy face. It’s the steroids – they make me look like a balloon.’
‘You look beautiful,’ I say, as it’s the only thing I can do to help her, to cheer her up. I know how much she prizes her looks. I always used to find it vulgar, but now I realise she was making the most of what she had – her youth. I guess that’s all you can do when you’re handed a death sentence.
She pulls a face at me and tells me to get a drink. I do as I’m told, my hands shaking as I pay the barman for a large glass of wine.
‘Sarah should be here soon,’ I say, looking around.
She nods.
‘I sorted my will out,’ she says, as I take my seat again. ‘I’ve named you as guardian of Riley. But my solicitor said they would still see Rob as the statutory guardian, and you’d still have to fight him for access. So it doesn’t really help us. It would all be so much easier if you were able to legally adopt her. Even then, of course, you’d have to challenge him for access, as he’s been looking after her since she was born, but at least you’d have some rights. It’s a bloody shitty system.’
‘I know. My friend Jeremy said the same,’ I say. ‘Robin would claim he’s been her sole carer, that he’s the one who’s brought her up, that I’ve had nothing much to do with her. I didn’t even take maternity leave. At the time I thought it made sense for me to carry on working – we needed the money.’
‘It’s my stupid fault,’ Kim says, slamming her glass down on the table. ‘I should never have trusted him in the first place.’
‘You weren’t to know,’ I say, reaching out and placing my hand over hers. ‘You had no idea we’d end up in this situation.’
‘I was an idiot. I should have asked more questions. I just went along with it, accepted everything the fucker said. When I think what you must have gone through, to have lost your baby like that, and then to find out that your husband had got someone else pregnant . . . you were so forgiving. So understanding.’
‘I didn’t want to face the truth,’ I say, and even though I hear the words leave my mouth I still can’t quite believe that it’s me saying them. That I am sitting here in this bar with Kim, the woman I have obsessed over for so long. The woman I have judged, juried and executed so many times, both with and without Robin. ‘And I still felt so guilty. About my own pregnancy.’