by Jane Corry
‘Hi,’ he says, looking up from his desk. ‘Didn’t you get my text, asking if you wanted to come over last night?’
‘Sorry. I was calling my parents.’
My fingers are clammy. There’s an odd taste in my mouth. ‘The thing is, I was asking their advice. But really I should have just asked you.’
‘Fire away.’ He looks flattered.
‘I’m pregnant.’
Immediately he leaps to his feet, face tight with anger. ‘You silly little girl. If you think you’re going to trap me like that, you’re mistaken. Anyway, we always used something.’
‘Not the last time we did it,’ I point out quietly.
‘That was only a few weeks ago.’
‘I know, but I was feeling strange and I did a test. I did a few. Believe me, I don’t want to be pregnant either.’
‘Don’t give me that.’
His fists are clenched. I try to move back, but my feet won’t budge for fear. Then he seems to realize what he’s doing and turns away. ‘I haven’t got any money to pay you off.’
‘Of course you have! You own a massive company. Look, David. I meant it when I said I didn’t intend to get pregnant. But you can’t just expect me to manage on my own.’
‘What about your parents?’
‘They’ll be there for me. But why should they bail me out when you got me into this mess in the first place? That’s what Dad said, anyway. Perhaps you’d like to talk to him about it.’ I hold out my mobile.
He brushes it away.
‘Why can’t you just get rid of it?’
I can’t pretend I haven’t considered this. ‘You won’t change my mind, David. If you don’t promise to do your bit, I’ll tell everyone – including your wife. And Perdita too.’
He scowls. ‘How do I know it’s mine?’
‘When it’s born, we can do a DNA test. Then you’ll see it’s yours.’ I spit the words out, furious. ‘I can assure you that I haven’t slept with anyone else.’
‘Not even that kid from the IT department who claims he’s already got into your pants?’
‘Nigel? That creep? He’s making it up because I wouldn’t go out with him.’
His mouth twists in a way I’ve never seen it do before. ‘You expect me to believe that? Just get out. Do you hear me?’
I can’t help it.
‘How dare you!’ He’s staggering back, rubbing his cheek where I’ve slapped him. I’d never done that to anyone before. But if anyone has earned it, David has. In fact, he deserves a whole lot worse.
Not long afterwards, I hear him leaving the office, declaring he’s going to a meeting.
The next day Perdita comes into my office. She looks terrible without make-up. I hadn’t realized how much she relies on under-eye concealer. ‘Have you seen Mr Goudman?’
‘Not since yesterday.’
‘Are you sure?’
Something’s up. Perdita isn’t just looking terrible. She’s shit scared, twisting her hands and interlacing her fingers like she’s playing an invisible cat’s cradle.
‘He didn’t turn up at an important meeting last night. That’s really out of character.’
She’s staring at me as if she has X-ray vision.
‘Sorry,’ I say airily. ‘I’ve no idea where he is.’
43
Vicki
27 June 2018
Penny still wants to know more about my relationship with my ex. She thinks it might help in the trial. So I fill her in on our brief relationship which had initially blown me away but ended by blowing me apart.
‘David sounds a bit like a Jekyll and Hyde character,’ she says thoughtfully when I finish.
I give a rueful shrug. ‘He was. But I didn’t realize how bad it was at the beginning.’
My solicitor looks reflective. ‘How do we really know what someone is like underneath?’
Her words make me nervous. Is she talking about me? I think back to the woman I was when I married David. ‘I used to have a friend during my thirties who worried about not finding the right man. I thought she was silly at the time. But when I met David, I’d got to forty and was beginning to feel the same.’
‘Ah.’ Penny nods as if she gets this all too well. ‘The old marriage clock! Has it ever occurred to you that if you swap the letters around in “marital”, it makes “martial”?’
‘As in martial arts?’
‘Exactly.’
It sounds like she’s been hurt too. But I’m not prepared for the next question.
‘Did David ever hit you?’
‘No.’ I feel nervous. ‘But there were times when he could be quite forceful. He wanted his own way, even over silly things like where we’d go out for the evening. Sometimes he’d pick something for me from the menu and then get huffy if I didn’t agree. Or he’d want to stay in when I suggested going out. Since we didn’t see each other as often as other married couples because of our work, I usually gave in for a quiet life.’
‘So he bullied you?’
I’m feeling even more uncomfortable. ‘I didn’t see it that way at the time. Maybe a bit controlling. Occasionally I dug my heels in, and he didn’t like that.’
Penny is writing all this down. ‘So it wasn’t the marriage you expected, then?’
‘No,’ I say slowly. ‘It wasn’t.’
Our late July wedding in 2012 was going to be much bigger than I’d wanted. David needed to invite several important business contacts who were ‘far more like family than any blood relative’. Apparently the latter were almost as thin on the ground as my own, the closest being a sister who lived in the States and with whom he’d lost contact. Their father was long dead.
Despite not attending a service every Sunday, I’d always assumed I’d get married in church. But my fiancé persuaded me otherwise. ‘Sorry, darling, but I’m not into that. Anyway, it doesn’t matter where we get married does it, as long as we’re together?’
I could hardly contain my nerves and excitement when the day arrived. ‘You look absolutely gorgeous,’ David said when he met me outside the register office in King’s Road.
Honestly?
I smoothed down the size 14 cream knee-length satin dress which I’d only just managed to squeeze into. What did he see in me? Clearly, some of the other guests thought the same, judging from the whispers and the looks. But it didn’t matter. David loved me, and that’s all that mattered.
‘Let’s start a family right now,’ he said during our honeymoon night in the Dorchester. I realized I didn’t need any persuading. I wanted a baby. To build something that wasn’t just my career.
I was worried that I was too old, but only two months later, I was pregnant. ‘Some women,’ said my doctor, ‘get a last-minute burst of fertility at your age.’ I hugged the news to myself, not wanting to tell David over the phone but waiting instead until our work schedules finally allowed us to spend a night together in his London apartment. He was already starting to be home far less than before.
It was worth it, though, to see his face. ‘You’re sure?’ He’d picked me up and whirled me around gently. ‘That’s amazing!’
The following week he turned up unexpectedly at my house on the prison estate, bearing two packages. One contained an oyster-silk maternity negligée. The other was a little red knitted doll with a perky yellow hat. ‘I couldn’t resist buying it from a designer craft shop in Chelsea.’ He looked as excited as a child.
‘Congratulations,’ said Patrick when I told him the news, explaining that I didn’t want it to be common knowledge yet. ‘Your husband must be over the moon.’
I’d noticed before that he hardly ever used David’s name.
‘Yes. He is.’
My husband managed to get time off for the three-month scan. ‘You don’t think I’d miss that, do you, darling? I’d move heaven and earth to get there.’
We drove together to the car park. Just as he was reversing into a space, his phone rang. ‘Don’t touch that,’ he snapped.
‘I
was only trying to help.’
‘Well, don’t.’
Shocked, I put the phone back on its dashboard holder.
We walked in silence towards the hospital. What should have been a really special time had been ruined. But then we both stared in wonder at the screen. ‘There’s the head,’ said the radiologist. ‘See?’
‘Our baby,’ breathed David. ‘It’s like magic.’ Then he kissed me, properly, right in front of the woman. ‘I love you so much.’
Our previous argument was forgotten. As if it had never existed.
We had two scan pictures done. ‘I need one as well,’ he said, tucking it into his pocket and patting it. Then he put an arm around me as we headed back to the car. ‘We’re going to be the perfect family. Our child will want for nothing. I’m so proud of you, love. You do know that, don’t you?’
By then, I was beginning to show. Not much. Just a little rounded bump. But that was enough.
Staff started to nudge each other. The inmates appraised me keenly. ‘So she’s not a lezzie after all,’ I heard one say.
‘Doesn’t mean anything. Could have been a turkey baster.’
‘But she got married.’
‘So she says.’
Meanwhile, morale wasn’t good in the prison. Nights were getting darker. Christmas was coming up. The heating kept cutting out. There was also trouble with the women on the laundry rota. One prisoner had found a large lump of faeces in her ‘clean’ sheets. No one would admit responsibility, so I put them all on loss of privileges, which meant not being allowed phone calls or the twice-weekly gym sessions. That hadn’t gone down well.
Then a young mum in the MBU tried to escape with her twelve-month-old when they were taken to the hospital for routine immunizations. Normally these were done in the prison, but the little boy hadn’t been well enough to have the jabs along with the others.
‘Didn’t get far,’ the prison officer had reported.
I instructed that the woman should be punished by restricted visits, which meant she couldn’t see her other son, who was being brought up by grandparents. I felt terrible – yet an example had to be made, or else everyone else would do the same. I was starting to feel like I was trapped. How long could I go on doing this for?
‘Bitch,’ spat Zelda when she passed me in the corridor. So I ordered that her visiting privileges should be cut like the other woman I’d just punished. I knew this would make her resentment worse but I had to lay down the law. Zelda Darling was a troublemaker. If anything, no matter how small, went wrong, she was always first amongst the prisoners to summon in the IMB – the Independent Monitoring Board. In a way, I couldn’t help thinking Dad would have admired her. In another life she’d have made a great union official. But Zelda seemed to have it in for me personally.
If only I’d known how deep her resentment went.
44
Helen
‘Are you sure you haven’t seen David?’ asks Perdita again, just before lunchtime.
‘Why?’
I speak in a sharp, defensive manner, but inside I feel nervous. Is it possible that she knows something is going on between us? Perhaps someone had heard us in the office.
‘He missed another really important meeting today. Very unlike him.’
Hah! Clearly she doesn’t know him that well. Despite our brief acquaintance, even I can tell this is a man who doesn’t play by the rules. Rather like me.
‘I just don’t understand it.’ She runs her hands through her hair, messing up the style completely. I almost feel sorry for her.
‘Have you rung his wife?’ I suggest.
Perdita makes a face. ‘She says she thought he was staying in the London flat. But when she went round, it was empty. He’s not even answering his private mobile.’
I hadn’t realized he had one. But when I think about it, this stands to reason. In fact, he probably has two or three.
One of the men from HR then walks past. ‘Have you seen David?’ Perdita demands.
‘Not for some time.’ His brow creases. ‘I need him to sign something.’
By late afternoon, the rumours are flying thick and fast. David Goudman has been in an accident. He’s left his wife. The business is going bust. This last ‘fact’ comes from a girl in accounts. Things ‘haven’t been good’ for some time, apparently.
‘Bastard,’ says a young man who works in the design section. ‘How am I going to pay my mortgage if it all goes tits up?’
‘What’s going to happen?’ I ask Perdita.
‘I wish everyone would stop asking me that just because I’m his bloody PA.’
‘Have the police been called?’
‘Tanya did. Apparently they told her “to wait a bit” to see if he turns up.’
‘How long?’
‘They didn’t say. Maybe until Monday. Who knows?’ She slumps down into her chair. I’ve never seen Perdita look so shaken. ‘The thing is – I know this might sound silly – but I can’t help wondering if something might have happened to him.’
‘Like what?’ I ask carefully.
‘That’s just it. The possibilities are endless. David had – I mean has – several enemies.’ Then she shakes herself. ‘Goodness knows why I’m telling you this. Just get on with some work, can you?’
But no one can concentrate. As one of the secretaries says, there doesn’t seem any point when everything is so uncertain. Not for me. I’ve already got what I came here for.
45
Vicki
My mouth is dry after so much talking. I take a slurp from the plastic beaker on the desk and glance up at the clock. I’m surprised one of the officers hasn’t knocked on the door to say it’s lunchtime. I’ll get a strike if I’m late. But my solicitor hasn’t finished yet.
‘I have to say that I hadn’t realized you were pregnant.’ My solicitor has a thoughtful expression on her face. ‘What happened …?’
Her question hangs in the air.
‘I can’t talk about it at the moment,’ I whisper.
There’s a sigh. ‘You’re not making it easy for me. As I said before, I need to know as much as possible. But all right. We’ll go back when you feel a bit stronger. Meanwhile, let’s go on to your theory that David was money laundering. When did you first have suspicions?’
I’d come back to the Kingston house during a rare weekend off. I was nearly three months pregnant. I’d had that dragging ache at the bottom of my stomach which is apparently normal at this stage. It had been a tough week. A woman on B wing had thrown paint at another during the art class. The teacher had brought in her own materials (which wasn’t allowed, although they had somehow got through security), and the oil paint had stung the victim’s eyes. No long-term damage had been done, but her family had reported it. I’d had to suspend the teacher, which was a shame, as she had, until now, been a great asset.
Consequently I was tense. So, too, was my husband. Instead of asking me how the drive had been or how I was feeling, he announced that he had some ‘urgent papers’ which he needed me to sign.
‘What are they?’ I asked.
‘Just to do with our investments.’
David and I had decided at the beginning of our marriage that we would each maintain our separate bank accounts. So the sudden mention of ‘our’ investments was a surprise.
‘I didn’t know we had any,’ I said, sitting down at the dining-room table to read through the papers he’d put in front of me.
‘I want to put something aside for the baby.’ As he spoke, he massaged my shoulders from behind. Mmmmm. ‘Couldn’t we do this in the morning?’ I suggested, leaning my head sideways against his arm.
‘I need to get this sorted.’
His hands stopped. His voice was abrupt. ‘It has to be sent off by tonight. Don’t you want to make sure that our baby is provided for?’
‘Of course.’ Keen to make the peace, I added, ‘It’s really thoughtful of you.’
‘Just sign here.’
‘I haven’t read it yet.’
‘There’s no need.’
‘Come on, David. You wouldn’t sign something unless you read it first.’
‘I would if you asked me to. Don’t you trust me?’
‘Sure.’ My eye had already scanned the first few paragraphs while we’d been talking. ‘You’re buying a house in the States for 3.4 million dollars?’ I was stunned. ‘I didn’t realize we had that kind of money.’
‘I’ve done a big deal at work. And it’s not just me that’s buying it. So are you. It’s got nothing to do with the company.’
So that’s why he needed my signature.
‘But I haven’t seen the house.’
‘You’ve hardly got time to come home, let alone go to the States. Anyway, it’s an investment, like I said.’
I was still reading. ‘You’re paying for it in cash?’
He shrugged. ‘It’s not uncommon.’
An uneasy sensation began to crawl through me. One of the women at my previous prison had been jailed for money laundering after buying houses with the proceeds of drug deals.
‘This deal which you did at work,’ I said slowly. ‘It was … above board, wasn’t it?’
Instantly, his face darkened. ‘Of course it was. What do you think I am?’
‘Then why didn’t you pay the money into the bank and do a transfer?’
‘Because the seller is in London tomorrow and wants cash.’
‘There’s no need to snap at me.’
‘And there’s no need to ask so many questions.’ His finger jabbed at the space for the buyer’s signature. ‘Just write your name, will you?’
‘Why can’t you buy it in your name alone?’
David began to massage my shoulders again, but this time, it didn’t feel so good. ‘So that if anything happened to me, you and our baby have an asset to sell.’
That niggle of worry was getting bigger. ‘I’m sorry, darling, but it doesn’t feel right, especially in my job. I have to be within the law and …’
‘I’ve told you. This is perfectly legal. Just sign.’
The baby moved inside as if it too wasn’t happy about this. ‘Only when I’ve got my own solicitor to look it over.’