I stopped, my breathing shallow, my face swollen and eyes puffy from crying.
‘I just need to know why,’ I said. ‘Why, Phil? Why?’
After a moment he turned around, leaning against the sink, folding his arms.
‘So let me get this straight,’ he began. ‘You find some map of Chester and an old parking ticket. You call Felix, who doesn’t even know what day of the week it is himself half the time, and he tells you I booked the morning off and so you think I'm having an affair? And what’s worse, is that you think I ran over this person I’m having an affair with and left them for dead?’
I held my breath. He laughed, a hollow bark of disbelief.
‘I am not having an affair,’ he said. ‘Rachel, look at me,’ he lifted my chin so he was staring at me directly. ‘How you think I would even have time to conduct an affair when you know how hard I'm working is beyond me. Just how am I supposed to be doing it, hey Rach? Tell me that. Meeting up at train station platforms? Romantic liaisons in the buffet cart?’ He shook his head. ‘And as for the hit and run. My car was stolen on Tuesday. You saw the police, you heard me tell them, I gave them my train ticket. That’s the reason the police are calling, because the person who stole my car ran someone over. I was at Crewe train station when it happened.’
I stared up at him.
‘And Felix. Did he tell you that he booked Tuesday off?’
I blinked rapidly.
‘This presentation is a shambles, Felix is a shambles,’ he sighed. ‘He’s got a gambling addiction, did he tell you that? He’s booked more time off for counselling and therapy in this last month than I have all year.’ He shook his head. ‘He’s over a hundred grand in debt, did he mention that?’
‘Felix?’ my voice was shaking. ‘But his boys, he never said…’
‘Well he wouldn’t, would he? So when he tells you that I booked a morning off, how would he know? He’s cancelled three times this week due to stress so, please, don’t take into account anything Felix tells you.’
I wiped my face, trying to get my head around Felix and the news that he has a gambling addiction. Trying to remember exactly what he’d said when I called him, did he mention that he wasn’t in the office on Tuesday either?
‘I grant you it’s an odd coincidence,’ Phil was saying. ‘You being at the same place as my stolen car was used for a hit and run, but now you're telling me you saw this accident happen? And you think I was involved? You told me, you told the police that you didn't see anything. You lied to the police.’
‘MUM!’ Katie bounded into the kitchen. I took a sharp intake of breath, shocked at her entrance. I hadn't even heard her coming downstairs. She was wearing her pyjamas, shorts and T-shirt decorated with small cartoon characters in garish colours. Her long hair fell about her shoulders, her face still puffy with sleep making her look so young.
‘Can we go to Chilterns again? It was so good yesterday, and I’d like to try that crepe, the Nutella and banana one. Will you take us? Will you?’
We didn't move, Phil still had his eyes on mine and I ran my hand through my hair, over my face, turned away, trying to hide it from Katie.
‘You can have cereal,’ he said slowly not moving and Katie went to demand something else but he stopped her. ‘Go and get dressed for school.’
She didn't move.
‘Now.’
She started to protest but Phil looked at her, stopping any argument. She stared at him for a moment then slipped back off upstairs.
‘Jessica will be down in a second,’ he said. ‘Stop crying and stop all this. The girls don't need to hear it.’
There was a thump from the floor above us and we heard Katie shout. She shouted something at Jessica, and Jessica shouted in return. The bathroom door slammed making me jump and I winced as the movement reached my ankle.
‘But I thought I saw you,’ I whispered and his eyes locked on mine, ‘I thought I saw your face, and there was this message. I found this message on Twitter…’
There was a great bang from upstairs and we both looked up to the ceiling. Katie started to howl.
Phil squeezed his eyes shut. ‘Stop this, Rachel.’
Katie was screaming now, crying. She was clearly hurt and Jessica was ignoring her, I could hear her heavy feet moving about inside the bathroom.
‘I saw the message on Twitter,’ I told him. ‘On my laptop. That’s why I went and I keep telling myself that it can't be you, that it's just not possible, but things keep telling me otherwise.’
He was staring at the floor, a small muscle twitching at the side of his jaw.
‘MUM!’ Jessica shouted from upstairs. ‘I think Katie’s hurt herself. MUM!’
‘Give me a good reason why it can't have been you,’ I asked him. ‘That this is all my imagination. Why it wasn't you sending the message on Twitter? Why you couldn't possibly be having an affair? Give me a reason why you have nothing to do with any of this. Tell me what that map was, what the parking ticket was? Tell me, Phil, please.’
Jessica's footsteps thundered downstairs.
‘Mum!’ Jessica said as she charged into the kitchen. ‘She's gone too far this time, she's ruined my lip gloss and lost my hair straighteners. She thinks she can just take anything of mine, you've got to do something!’
I turned away, hiding my face.
‘Is everything okay?’ she asked after a moment.
‘Go get yourself ready,’ Phil said. ‘Get yourself and your sister dressed and ready. I don't want any arguments.’
I heard her make a huffing sound, and then, ‘Mum?’
‘I'm fine, Jessica,’ I said with great effort to keep my voice steady and without turning around. ‘Go get ready for college.’
I heard her wait a moment where she decided whether to ask further questions and then her footsteps going back upstairs. Phil took in a deep breath then exhaled loudly from his nose. I watched as he looked up to the ceiling, running his hand down his unshaven neck. I waited, holding myself until he spoke.
‘The girls need to go,’ he said slowly. ‘I'll take them in, like yesterday.’ He looked at me. ‘You need to cancel work. Phone Suzie and tell her that you won't be in. It's ridiculous you're still going ahead with that job. It's clearly too much. You need rest.’
‘Phil –’
‘Rachel, I've heard enough,’ he held up his hand, his palm facing me as if stopping traffic. ‘You've got to stop with this hysterical…’ He looked about the kitchen and then waved. ‘All this. I don't know where you get your ideas from and to be honest, you're starting to scare me,’ his shoulders sagged. ‘C'mon, I'll help you upstairs, get you back into bed. You need sleep.’
‘Where were you last night?’ I asked. ‘You went out after midnight. That wasn't for a run.’
He came over and picked up one of my crutches, holding it out for me to take.
‘I went to stop Lucy's cat from going through the rubbish,’ he said. ‘I heard it in the recycling. The lid is loose on the box, last time it got in, it cut its mouth on the tins remember? Lucy asked us to weigh it down. I went outside to do that then fell asleep on the sofa. I woke up groggy and against my better judgement, went out for a run, fell over, came home and washed my clothes. Satisfied?’
I took his hand, let him help me up. They were solid and reassuring under my arms, my head and cast seemed to be throbbing in unison.
‘But Felix said –’
‘Rachel,’ Phil said, his face was close to mine. ‘Felix is a member of gamblers anonymous. He’s struggling with massive debt and having to explain it all to his family as well as everyone at work. He’s under a huge amount of stress, not helped by you ringing him and quizzing him over my movements. He probably said whatever he could to get you off the phone.’
I swallowed. My head was pounding.
‘Enough, okay?’ he said gently. ‘No more. I wasn't there. It wasn't me. I was in Crewe. You were watching the person who stole my car.’ He kissed my forehead. ‘I'm not having an
affair, I love you and I'm not running people over.’ He stared at me, his face inches from mine. ‘Alright? Forget about all this now, I don't want to hear it again.’
I took my crutches, shook off his hands. I needed to collect my thoughts. My face felt puffy, my body ached. I felt as if I was at sea, the ground beneath me shifting, and I couldn't get a clear path through my addled mind. Phil's words were in my head, his rational voice against my own that repeatedly went around the same circuit. I knew it was all too much to be a coincidence, had to be, but then, what if I did just see someone who looked like Phil? If Phil was in Crewe, if he wasn't in Chester that day, then perhaps it wasn't him on Twitter and it wasn’t him on the retail park… But then, if it wasn’t him arranging meetings, who was it?
I was at the foot of the stairs when the phone rang, the noise making me jump and then cry out in pain as the sharp movement went down my leg. I heard Katie's voice answer and then a pause. I made my way downstairs to the hall table and the phone. If it was Suzie I would tell her to go on without me, I needed time. I needed to think, to get everything straight and then I'd ask him again. Ask Phil to talk it out with me when I had it clear in my mind. Give me the explanations for exactly where he was that day, why he had the map of Chester in his room, what that parking ticket was and where it was from. Katie's voice shouted from upstairs, high and loud.
‘Dad!’ she called, and I turned back to the kitchen, he was in the utility room, holding his washing. He looked at me and we locked eyes.
‘It's the police,’ Katie shouted. ‘They want to talk to you.’
18
Suzie
The gearbox in the van was horrendous, it had a habit of getting stuck in first gear and twice Suzie had bunny-hopped her way along Chester's busy main roads to the sounds of blaring horns from fellow drivers. She'd given the finger to four people already and was cursing loudly as she pulled up to the roundabout leading out of the town centre after crossing the River Dee. As she waited for the traffic lights to change, a couple of pedestrians crossed lazily in front of her pulling along suitcases behind them and chatting animatedly. One of the women's boots slipped off just in front of her and they both shrieked and laughed at the hilarity of it and Suzie gripped the steering wheel. It didn't seem right that people were laughing and enjoying themselves when she'd spent most of the night in a state of acute anxiety trying to find out if Adam had actually been in jail. There had been a hollow feeling in her stomach all night, a great chasm, and with it a deep sense of embarrassment. No matter how much she reminded herself that Adam wasn’t Carl, with each hour that passed with no word from Adam, the feeling intensified.
After several failed internet searches, Suzie learned that you had to apply for the kind of information that would tell you if people had a criminal record. You could only find out if you were an employer and if the person in question was applying for a certain role. It was maddening. She hadn’t slept. She’d spent hours Googling crazy terms then ringing Adam’s phone and leaving tense messages. She’d taken his laptop and notepad back to her flat and as she didn’t have a charger that would fit, she spent the evening reading through the bizarre directions he’d written down in the small notebook. Trying to work out where they were. Looking for something, anything that might tell her what was going on.
Despite the cold weather her hands were sweating because, she’d come to realise, whichever way you looked at it none of it was good. Adam was missing, her money was missing and she might lose her flat. A loan shark was involved and she’d just learned that Adam was possibly in jail. Possibly, she reminded herself as she drove through the streets, because the man didn’t actually confirm that when she asked him. He’d only said that they’d been inside together. Inside where, exactly?
It was no good; she would have to take the day off. Della would have to unpack the van full of props and Rachel would have to style the house as well as organising the catering. What else could she do? Already she'd ignored a call from the bank that morning, as well as one from Mark, the loan shark, and it felt like a small knife were constantly stabbing at the centre of her rib cage. It made it difficult for her to fully concentrate on anything.
It was nine thirty in the morning, rush hour and miserable. For days now it had been trying to snow. Great sleety blobs that reminded Suzie of some kind of mucus, like a child's snotty nose or a trodden-on slug, hit the windscreen. Her eyes were hot and stinging and she'd had to wear her glasses as her vision was getting soft from tiredness.
The car behind sounded its horn and Suzie fought with the clutch. The van jerked forward just as the two pedestrians made it to the other side of the road and they both stopped to stare at her, their mouths hanging open at her bad driving.
‘Oh get lost!’ Suzie shouted through the closed window and then, afraid they hadn't heard her, made a face at their gawping expressions. She'd do what she had to and be back on this road within the hour.
The traffic started to thin out as Suzie drove away from the city centre and followed the busy dual carriageway out toward Tattenhall. She went through the part of Chester that wasn't so pretty. High-rise buildings, bleak and isolated, done in a kind of nineteen-sixties brutal architecture that were a strong contrast to the pretty black and white constructions found in the centre. It seemed grey, this part of the city. Grey with concrete and industrialism. Road signs signalling slip ways for the motorway and instructions for which lane she should be in bombarded her and then, she was out, continuing along the dual carriageway and in seconds found herself immersed in the country.
Flat, expansive fields lay on both sides with twiggy trees and shrubs dotted along the roadside. She took a deep breath and put her foot down, it was a straight road to the house where the Gatsby party was to be held and Suzie let her mind wander as she drove.
She was thinking of what identification was needed to get into a safety deposit box and if it was opened by a key, as she imagined, or something else. She was trying to place the insurance documentation that she'd taken out with Adam. It would probably be needed to prove she was his business partner, when turning into the driveway she found it almost full. As well as the hire car of Rachel's and the two Land Rovers of the people who owned the house, there was a small catering truck. Suzie pulled up beside it, white with stainless steel panelling and a latch on the side so it could be lifted. It was the type you see outside nightclubs selling burgers and chips, but without any bright logo or pictures of greasy food.
‘That’s Jennifer,’ Rachel announced as Suzie walked into the conservatory. She was pointing to the far end of the room to indicate a woman with short brown hair and a deep tan who smiled and held up her hand in greeting, which Suzie did in return.
‘She's the one I was telling you about. She teaches at the catering college and has agreed to help,’ Rachel grinned and shifted on her crutches, ‘so I'm going back with her today to discuss the menu and plan the logistics. She's talking me through the catering van to transport the food and what staff we’ll need on the night. I think she's rolled in a few of her students and I want to talk to them about what's expected.’
She gave Suzie a big smile but her eyes, which were puffy and red, didn't join in with the expression of delight.
‘I'd be useless here,’ she went on, ‘I can't help pin fabric backdrops or empty the van of the brilliant props that you collected yesterday and besides,’ she flashed the false smile again, ‘that's your domain. I thought it'd be better if I left you and Della to it. Get out of your way. Della can bubble-wrap any valuables whilst you decide on the arrangement of the rooms and I thought my time was better managed with Jennifer, ensuring that the catering is organised properly.’
Suzie stared at her. ‘Actually,’ she began carefully. ‘I need to get away early myself today.’
Rachel, who had been getting balanced on her crutches, stopped and looked at her, as did Jennifer and Della who were fussing around with tape measures and bits of paper. Jennifer let out a nervous giggle.
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‘Adam,’ Suzie said lifting her chin. ‘My fiancé, well, he's… the thing is, he's…’ the image of the empty safe loomed in her mind, and she couldn't bring herself to tell Rachel. To admit that she had no idea where he was, that he’d taken the money, that she was ignoring calls as they might be from a loan shark and that he might have a criminal record that she knew nothing about. A flush of heat worked up from her neck, ‘been delayed,’ she finished and Rachel nodded.
‘He’s still working away?’ she asked and hobbled over to Della. ‘If you could do as Suzie asks,’ she said to Della. ‘Whatever that may be and then, you don’t need to come back to our house, you can go home from here.’ She turned to Suzie. ‘The two of you should be fine. More than fine.’
‘Well you see…’ Suzie began, taking off her glasses, but Rachel was turning to Jennifer, saying something about the menu.
‘I'll just take Jennifer through to the kitchen,’ Rachel said before Suzie could speak. ‘Show her what we've got to work with and then we'll be out of your hair.’
Jennifer, who was wearing black and white chequered pants with a white overall, the uniform of the chef, giggled again at Suzie and lifted her shoulders in an excited way as Rachel started to leave the room.
‘This house!’ She put her hands together in a little clapping movement, as if to applaud it. ‘When Rachel called yesterday she'd said it was just the usual, but this morning, when she gave me the address and said she needed me a bit more, well,’ she grinned and Suzie noticed she had her nose pierced, a small diamond stud glinting in the winter light. ‘I couldn't have been more pleased! We'll do you proud, don't worry, the food and staff will be brilliant. I'll get them all dressed up in black tie and we've got those silver platters. Very nineteen-twenties!’ She joined Rachel, who was hobbling into the kitchen and started to talk animatedly to her. Suzie overheard the words, ‘rolling in it’ and ‘alright for some’.
‘Suzie?’ Della, who had been fiddling with a roll of bubble-wrap took a few steps toward her. ‘Where do you want me to start? Rachel said something about wrapping up all the valuables…?’
If He Wakes Page 14