If He Wakes

by If He Wakes (retail) (epub)

  Rachel was about five inches taller than Suzie and had a bigger build, but she was no match, unable to move, her leg in the cast keeping her fixed. And Suzie worked out, she lifted weights twice a week at the gym and she was strong, if she wanted to, she could snap Rachel's arm and they both knew it.

  ‘She's fourteen,’ Rachel hissed. ‘Fourteen! Do you do it together? Is that how it works? We knew it had to be someone Katie trusts, she wouldn’t just do something like that on her own and all the time it was you. You introduced her to him.’

  ‘Me?’ Suzie almost screamed the word. ‘You think I'd be involved in this perverse filth?’

  Suzie turned her hand a little and Rachel winced, she gave another pull, and then let go. Rachel snatched her hand back and rubbed at her wrist, a red mark already visible.

  ‘Do you think I'd have been with him if I knew he was into this stuff?’ she asked and Rachel blinked. ‘If I knew he was into photographing young girls, filming them, photographing Katie? If I knew he’d even spoken to Katie, you think I wouldn’t have told you? You think I wouldn't have taken him to the police? I thought he was away photographing cars,’ an angry sob escaped her. ‘He told me he was working on location, I didn't know he was doing…’ she couldn't finish the sentence. ‘I thought he loved me,’ she said and her voice cracked, it had a pitiful moan to it. ‘I didn't know. I didn't know a thing about it. I just found this when I was looking for the money.’ She roughly wiped her face, ‘I've been nothing more than a cash cow for him. A meal ticket. He never loved me at all. I've sent out eighty invites for the wedding, booked the room,’ her face contorted with the words, a great shuddering sob building at the back of her throat. ‘And all the time, he’s doing this.’ She took a moment. ‘So no, Rachel, I did not know. I did not know that the man I planned to spend the rest of my life with was into abusing kids.’

  She was panting, as was Rachel.

  They were staring at each other, unsure how to navigate the situation before them and then, after a moment, Rachel's face crumpled. Her body began to shake. Suzie heard her take huge gasps and put her hand out in comfort, although she didn't actually touch her.

  The snow was still falling outside. It covered the garden and buildings providing a surreal glow, the kind of light that instilled delight in children and sentimental adults. Suzie looked at it as Rachel cried and thought she'd never find joy in anything again.

  She waited for Rachel's sobs to subside, and eventually, they did.

  ‘I'm right aren't I?’ Suzie asked. ‘Phil ran Adam over and put him in a coma.’ Rachel's jaw clenched. ‘And you saw it. You saw it happen.’

  Rachel was silent and Suzie took a deep breath. She looked away. It was suddenly all so obvious. Rachel's accident, the way she had been behaving, the way Phil was at the hospital. Adam’s abandoned car, and she felt a fool for not working it out sooner. Suzie realised she must have very little perceptiveness. She’d been so willing to believe in her own fairy-tale that she hadn’t noticed the nightmare happening all around her. She wasn't clever or smart; she was a stupid, stupid idiot.

  She couldn't seem to catch her breath. She looked out at the snow to take a moment, hoping that the air would travel to her lungs as she inhaled. That it would stop her feeling so dizzy and helpless.

  ‘Adam's awake,’ she said and Rachel's eyes flickered. ‘The hospital rang just before I set off. He's not talking, but he will be, soon.’ She paused. ‘I'm going to the police. Now. To tell them about him. Show them what he's been doing. I've got it all on another memory stick, his website, his emails, the messages on social media.’ She waited for Rachel to respond, she stayed silent. ‘Come with me.’

  Rachel looked up at her.

  ‘We’ll tell them together,’ she said. ‘Explain what Adam was doing, show them it all and then you can tell them what you saw Phil do.’

  Rachel closed her eyes.

  ‘I understand why you kept quiet,’ Suzie said. ‘But you can't anymore, you see that now don’t you? You have to tell the police. They'll understand,’ Suzie wiped at her cheeks. ‘It was provocation. Phil did it because of what Adam did to Katie, they'll understand that and we’ll get through it. Together. We’ll get through it. You can't keep quiet about this, Rachel; it's too much. Katie needs to know. Come with me. Now. Let's go to the police.’

  Rachel shook her head. She opened her eyes and gave a kind of half smile, a pitiful, lopsided thing that made Suzie's stomach clench.

  ‘I’m not going anywhere,’ Rachel said, stopping Suzie from continuing.

  ‘Rachel, you're not thinking straight,’ she took both of Rachel's hands in hers, changed her position. ‘Did you hear me? Adam's awake. He's out of the coma. I’m not waiting until he's better, I'm telling the police now so that he goes straight from hospital into prison. And it’s only a matter of time before he’s talking. He’ll tell the police it was Phil, but you need to do that. You need to tell them first.’ She swallowed, trying and failing to stop herself from crying. ‘Come with me. We can do it together. Together.’

  Rachel shook her head. Pulled her hands slowly away from Suzie's.

  ‘You think it's worse, what Phil did?’ a cry caught in the back of Suzie's throat. ‘Rachel, my fiancé has abused young girls. I'm telling the police that. The man I loved has been abusing young girls. He stole all my money. I've lost everything.’

  ‘But you don't have kids to lose,’ Rachel said quietly and they stared at each other. ‘And me and Phil do. So I'm not going to any police station and I'm not telling anybody anything. I need to think about my girls, my family and what to do next now that he’s awake.’

  28

  Rachel

  The van made a terrible sound as Suzie took off. The exhaust was blowing, it rumbled and choked and I could hear the gears grind as she forced them to engage. I hadn't moved; just let her go whilst I stayed in the kitchen, clinging onto the table as if it were a life raft. The snow had stopped for a moment and left everything in a white blanket, covered up all the moulding, rotting leaves and muck in the garden. Outside the window, everything looked clean. It glowed, making the light different and surreal. In the silence, I opened up my fist and looked at the memory stick she'd given me. Katie.

  It was everything. Suzie had promised, this was the lot. She'd removed Katie from Remote Models, and all of that was on another memory stick that she was taking to the police. No one else would see Katie, she was safe again.

  I curled my fingers back around it; they were slick with sweat. I looked out at the white garden. I didn't trust myself to move. My skin crawled with the thought of it, of how he's there, this man I've never met, in every facet of my life. He's been everywhere except right in front of me, and now he was lying in a hospital bed, recovering, ready to start speaking and accusing Phil. To send him to prison, and that in itself was laughable. Phil had acted out of love, out of protection for our daughter. Yet in a court what would that matter after what he'd done? It felt unjust. I looked out on the white garden and searched for a middle ground, an alternative between the black and white of right and wrong, but there was nothing. Phil was guilty, as was Adam, but their crimes were worlds apart.

  In the kitchen, everything seemed in high definition suddenly, the shape of the scatter cushions around the chairs, the hand carved wooden bowl filled with apples. I could see every knot and grain in the bowl, all the dents and bruises on the skin of each apple.

  The phone rang but I didn't move, I sat still and listened to the answer machine kick in. My cheerful stupid voice filled the air, my recorded message that was done a lifetime ago.

  ‘I'm trying to get hold of Mrs Farrell. Mrs Rachel Farrell of Farrell McFadden Events,’ the voice said after the answer machine message had finished and I recognised it as Mrs Laydon, the mother of the girl from the Gatsby party we were meant to be doing the next day. ‘The marquee staff have arrived and are in the process of putting up the marquee, and Della is here, but they need some direction and Mrs Farrell or Ms McFa
dden should really be here now. I'll try her mobile again but please ask her to call me as soon as possible.’

  My head began to bang and I raised my hand to my temple. I should've called Della, told her to go home. I should’ve returned Mrs Laydon’s call, explained that we wouldn't be doing the party, that she'd better call Tailor Made Events because Rachel Farrell of Farrell McFadden Events was having a breakdown. Farrell McFadden Events was no longer functioning. Nothing was.

  How would everything have played out if I'd gone to the police three days ago, without talking to Phil, without letting him explain and hearing about what had happened to Katie? How would it have been if I'd told Detective Sergeant Bailey when he asked me that night if I'd seen the accident, if I'd told the truth? Told them that yes, I was at the retail park because I thought my husband was having an affair, and yes, I did see him there and yes, I did see him run someone over and drive away. What would have been the run of events then? In a parallel universe somewhere, that course of action had taken place and I wondered if that version of me was any happier with the outcome.

  Katie would be at school, oblivious to all of this. She'd be in her lesson, chewing on her pen and making notes unaware of how she was at the centre of a storm. Phil had explained last night how we had to keep quiet, that if she knew we knew about the photographs that it would implicate her in things. That once she learned the photographer had been run over by Phil's stolen car, she'd easily put it all together. Just as Suzie had.

  I gripped the memory stick. Last night, between us we'd argued the case that in staying quiet we were protecting Katie, her father would be at home, she wouldn't see him go to prison for her actions. She wouldn't see her world collapse around her. But she would have to deal with what had happened alone. I felt the hard edges of it in my hand and feared that by staying quiet we weren't protecting her at all.

  I stood, reached for my crutch and winced as my leg reminded me that a bone was actually broken in there. That I should've been resting and recuperating these past few days, I ignored it and with effort, slowly made it to the hallway table where the phone was. I didn't expect him to answer, I'd called him five times after Sergeant Bailey had left and each time it had gone to voicemail. I knew that he'd be busy at the school gates, driving to the office, hurriedly going into meetings. Blocking his mind to the events of the past days in a way that I'd seen him do before. Compartmentalise, he'd told me. He shut things in boxes until he needed to bring them out and look at them.

  ‘Rachel?’ He answered on the fourth ring, and I flinched at his voice. ‘Everything okay? You off to the Gatsby house?’

  His voice was overly cheery, a charade. Enthusiastic questions masking his concern. I took a moment and knew he could hear it in the silence.

  ‘Suzie knows,’ I said quietly and I heard him take a sharp intake of breath.

  ‘Sorry?’ he asked. ‘What did you say?’ The background noise changed as he moved, his voice had an echo and I imagined him in a stairwell. The first place he could find that offered some privacy.

  ‘She was just here,’ my voice sounded flat. ‘She guessed it, she put it together because she saw the pictures of Katie. And the police,’ I told him, ‘they’re looking for you. They said they may come to your office.’

  Phil swore. ‘What? Suzie knows, what? And the police, did they…?’

  ‘He's her fiancé,’ I interrupted. ‘The man you ran over, is Suzie's fiancé. His name is Adam.’

  There was a moment's silence.

  ‘She isn't involved,’ I said quickly. ‘She told me and I believe her. She came here to tell us what her fiancé has been doing to Katie, but then she put two and two together.’

  ‘Her fiancé,’ I heard Phil murmur.

  ‘And I don't think we should keep quiet to Katie anymore.’ My voice broke as I said her name. ‘She needs to know, Phil. She needs to talk to us and we need to talk to her. She's involved, Phil, and I can't keep quiet about it. My daughter needs me. She needs us.’

  ‘Rachel,’ he began. ‘Rachel, hang on, what you're saying there, you're saying I should…’

  ‘And he's awake,’ I said. ‘The police were here. That’s why they’re looking for you. He's out of the coma and awake.’

  ‘Rachel,’ his voice was urgent. ‘Don't do anything. Don't talk to anyone, don't open the door. I'm on my way home.’

  I watched the snowfall in the garden with the dazed expression of a crash victim and called Della, told her in few words to take the day off. Told her that the Gatsby party was cancelled. I didn’t have it in me to call anyone else, all I could think about were my daughters.

  They say that when you have a traumatic event, there is the ‘before’ and the ‘after’, that all things fall under those two categories, but no one talks about the precipice. When you're looking down on the sheer drop below and can feel yourself tipping, there's no clichés or wise quotes for that and I wondered if it's because no one gets that moment. Was my sitting in the kitchen, watching the snowfall and feeling my life slide away a rare thing or did people avoid it, like diving? Once they knew what had to be done, did they jump straight off or, like me, did they sit on the edge and contemplate?

  By the time Phil arrived I was calm almost, as if detached from myself. I told him everything and he sat and nodded throughout.

  ‘And this is everything?’ he asked.

  ‘She promised that's all of it,’ I told him. ‘She went straight to the station from here. She separated Katie's pictures and film from what she's about to give the police as she thought we should have them.’

  He was silent for a moment, staring at the stick.

  ‘Do you think she'll keep quiet?’

  I took a second. Suzie was loyal, I knew that much about her, but I remembered the way she'd ordered me to join her at the police station. To tell them what I knew about Phil.

  ‘I'm not sure,’ I told him and he was quiet. ‘Phil?’ I asked.

  He was silent for a moment and then he looked up. There was a resigned smile on his face and his eyes were full of sadness and regret. I burst into fresh tears.

  ‘Hey,’ he came over, put his arms around me and I wept into his shoulder. Clung onto him and sobbed heavily as he held me tightly.

  ‘I'm so sorry,’ he said as I gripped him. ‘I'm sorry for getting you involved, for putting you through this. For not coming straight to you once I'd found out, for thinking I could sort this alone.’

  I didn't think there were any more tears to fall, I thought the crying part was over, but I was wrong. I didn't think I'd be able to stop.

  He leaned his head against mine, went to stroke my cheek as I took shuddering breaths. We stayed like that for a while, our faces close, looking at each other and then, he moved away.

  ‘I'll call a solicitor,’ Phil said and I put my hand out, stopping him from taking the phone.

  ‘There’s someone else you need to speak to first.’

  29

  Rachel

  I don't know what Phil said to the school, what he said to Katie, how he got her home or what they discussed in the car but when she walked in, her face a mass of confusion, I felt the ball of tension I'd been carrying burst.

  ‘What is it?’ she dropped her school bag and came over to me. ‘What's happened? Has someone died? Is it Grandma? Nana?’ She looked to Phil who was stood in the doorway, the car keys still in his hand. ‘Dad?’

  ‘Sit down, Katie,’ he said slowly, and then, she saw the envelope on the table in front of me. I pushed it toward her.

  ‘We know, sweetheart,’ I told her. ‘We know all about it.’

  ‘He said you'd be like this,’ Katie said and wiped her face. We were in the lounge, moved there after Katie had seen the photographs and became hysterical. She'd screamed at us, accused us of spying on her and then, become fiercely defensive before breaking down and succumbing to talking rationally.

  ‘He said you'd overreact and get it all out of proportion,’ Katie swallowed, she looked so small,
so young, but there was an edge to her. A rebellion that I'd not noticed before, something in the way that she continued to defend her actions and the photographs.

  I'd presumed that this would be easy, that she'd be glad to tell us how she'd been taken advantage of, but that's not what appeared to be happening. Katie appeared to be defending him.

  ‘That's why I never said anything.’ Katie looked up, her eyes red. ‘He's not what you think, Mum. I know what those photographs might look like, but it's not. It's not what you're both thinking. He took those as samples, just to try some stuff out. No one else will ever see them, it was just for my portfolio. Did he send them? Is that what happened?’ she pulled at the tissue in her hand. ‘Did you open my post? He said he'd send me the proofs but I didn't hear from him. It's really not what you're both thinking.’ She looked up then, her eyes pleading.

  Phil went to pick up the envelope, to pull out the photographs again but Katie snatched them off him.

  ‘Dad! Don't look at them!’

  She clutched the envelope to her chest and I looked to Phil for help. He matched my gaze. Neither of us were prepared for Katie acting this way. For her protecting him.

  ‘Tell us what happened,’ Phil said gently. ‘Just tell us how you met him and what happened. We're not angry, Katie,’ I nodded in agreement. ‘We just want to know how these pictures came to be taken.’

  ‘I met him at the school prom.’

  So that was it. The end of year prom. The end of the school year, a formal dance for those that were leaving but the younger year, Katie's year, were also invited. I remembered it vividly. The dress, the hair, the make-up. Katie had talked of nothing else for months: how to compete with the older girls, how to measure up. She'd spent an age practising her make-up and hairstyle. Some girls’ parents had ordered limousines to take them to the hotel where it was being held. We'd allowed Katie to have a small glass of champagne before she left, we'd taken pictures. Talked about how it would be her turn next year, when she would be leaving high school and getting ready for college and I'd gotten quite tearful.