If He Wakes

by If He Wakes (retail) (epub)

  ‘He was the official photographer,’ Katie said, ‘and he's brilliant. You can't really tell from those photographs he did of me, but he's a fantastic photographer.’

  We stayed silent. Waiting for her to continue.

  ‘He only did that gig, the school prom, because his mate had asked him. He was helping out his friend otherwise he'd never do something so,’ Katie shook her head, ‘y'know, beneath him. He's a fashion photographer. For magazines. And model agencies. He's a scout. He finds models, that's his real job.’

  My heart picked up pace and started to hammer in my chest.

  ‘Anyway, he was leaving. Just packing up and me and Olivia were going to the toilet when he calls me over.’

  ‘He called you over?’ Phil's voice was urgent.

  Katie nodded. ‘He knew me. Knew my name. He knew you, knew that you and Suzie were friends.’

  I felt my mouth drop open. He'd known I was friends with Suzie.

  ‘But I never met him,’ I said. ‘How did he know who I was when we never met?’

  ‘He said he was meant to meet you, but something came up, so he never got to. He came over or something, to apologise and was waiting in the car when Suzie came to the door and you weren’t in, but he’d seen me. He’d noticed me, he said…’ she paused, debating whether to continue.

  ‘Katie,’ I prompted. ‘You have to tell us everything. Everything.’

  She took a moment, picked off another bit of tissue. ‘He's leaving Suzie,’ she blurted out, finally. ‘He made me promise I wouldn't tell anyone. He doesn’t love her. He’s only with her because he feels sorry for her.’

  I closed my eyes.

  ‘They’ve only been together a few months and she’s got all serious with him. Wanting to marry him and have kids! It’s sad. She’s so sad, Mum.’ Katie looked up at me, ‘You know she is. She’s so clingy and needy. You even said so, I heard you, telling Dad that she must be on the rebound to be getting engaged so quick.’

  I took a deep breath, unable to comprehend what she was telling me.

  ‘And Adam, he’s so kind. He doesn’t know how to get rid of her. He’s too nice. And well, we just got talking that night,’ Katie shifted in her position. ‘He told me he's a scout for a model agency, he'd thought I'd be a good model and stuff. He took a few more pictures of me that night at the prom and he gave me his business card and his Twitter name. He asked me what mine was,’ she smiled then, at her own intelligence. ‘I'm not stupid, and I know you said you didn’t like me going on Twitter but…’ she let out a breath. ‘And I wouldn't just tell any old stranger what my Twitter name is but he had a proper card. He told me he knows this model agency and they're looking for new models. He’s a scout.’

  ‘Why didn't you tell us?’ I asked, my voice coming out in a moan. ‘That night, when you got back from the prom, why didn't you tell us that you'd met him, sweetheart? Suzie’s fiancé? That he wanted you to pose for him?’

  ‘Because he asked me not to!’ Katie said as if it were the most logical explanation in the world. ‘He said that if I told you, you'd tell Suzie and it wasn’t fair on her. He’s too nice, he said he didn’t want to hurt her. He wanted to tell her himself.’

  ‘But the photographs,’ Phil said. ‘Katie, you're a bright girl. Why didn't you tell us, ask us, before doing the photographs?’

  She looked down, was quiet.

  ‘Because I knew you'd say no. That you wouldn't let me do it. And he said I have a real chance at being a model. He said that you've got to get in quick, that you can't really wait until you’re sixteen because then all the slots for young models have gone.’ She looked up, the defiance back in her eyes. ‘Do you know how old Kate Moss was when she was discovered?’

  We were both silent, stunned by her sudden questioning.

  ‘Fourteen! Fourteen, Mum. My age. She was my age when she was modelling and what am I doing?’ She looked at me and huffed. ‘I'm not even allowed on the internet.’ Katie wiped her face; the crying had stopped for a moment. ‘You let Jessica go out, you let Jessica…’

  ‘Jessica is two years older than you…’

  ‘He didn't even want to do it,’ Katie went on. ‘I had to persuade him.’

  ‘You?’ Phil asked. ‘Persuaded him?’

  She nodded. ‘He said he couldn't, not unless I asked you and I couldn't ask you because then you'd say no. And then he asked Eva if she wanted to do it, and Eva's not even as pretty as me and she was going to be this famous model whereas I wasn't, so I begged him to take some pictures of me. And by that time, we'd become good friends.’

  ‘Become friends?’ I asked and Katie looked away.

  ‘We texted,’ she said. ‘He was giving me tips on how to be a model, that kind of stuff, and in fact,’ she lifted her chin, ‘he's kind of my boyfriend now.’

  The world tilted. I felt like I might slide to the floor. This wasn't what I thought, this involved trust and loyalty. This was him constantly grooming my daughter.

  ‘Kind of your boyfriend?’ My voice was barely audible. ‘This man is more than twice your age, he's…’

  ‘Age doesn't matter when you fall in love!’ she blurted out and she was so young. So very young and naive and I looked to Phil for help. But I only saw my disbelief reflected back in his face, disbelief and anger.

  ‘And that's what models do, Mum!’ Katie went on. ‘He explained it all to me. It's what everyone does now. If you want to get noticed by the big names, Chanel, Burberry, all the top fashion brands then they need to see you without clothes. They don't want to see you sitting there in your school uniform. They need to see your figure, how you'd model their clothes and they can't do that if you're wearing some stupid dress or something.’ She shook her head, a flash of something back in her eyes. ‘You see them at the New York fashion shows and they're all naked. He showed me a film. The models are all running off the catwalk and stripping to get the next costume on. If I want to have a career as a model, I've got to get used to taking my clothes off in front of people. And besides, he loves me.’ Katie nodded to herself. ‘He told me. We love each other. So it's not like I was doing it with some stranger.’

  Phil's hands were in fists, his jaw clenched.

  ‘Sweetheart,’ I reached forward and took her hand. ‘What he said to you, it wasn't true, he said those things so you would…’

  ‘No!’ she sat back. ‘Mum, I've already told you, Adam's not like that. He's not weird, he's not a pervert. It's not as if he's some paedophile.’

  I looked at Phil.

  ‘Katie,’ I began, and started the conversation that I never thought I'd have with my own child.

  30

  Suzie

  The ICU ward was hushed and quiet. No one marvelled at the early morning snow, no one looked out of the window and talked of plans for Christmas. In here, the only time was now, and if it happened to be day or night, that was irrelevant. The nurse, Janine, was at reception. Her face came alive when she saw Suzie.

  ‘It's such brilliant news,’ she said in a hushed voice, ‘but like I said on the phone, he's not yet fully with us. Don't expect too much, these are early days and the process of recovery is long. You need to have patience and…’

  Suzie shook her head, her face and eyes hurt. She couldn't listen to any more from Janine, look at her animated expression. When she’d left Rachel’s, she’d got in the van ready to go straight to the police, to hand it all over to them and wait for the outcome, but it suddenly occurred to her that she needed to see Adam first. That she needed to tell him she knew, that she’d worked it all out. She wanted to hiss it in his face, that he was going to prison for a very long time and she was going to be the one to put him there. She needed that. Suzie very much needed to tell him, face to face, that she wasn’t being stupid anymore. That she didn’t believe in his fairy-tales, or happy endings anymore.

  ‘Can I see him?’ she asked and Janine stopped talking and nodded.

  ‘Of course, of course.’

  Suzie kept walki
ng and Janine fell into step beside her telling her of the checks they'd already done, what medication Adam had been given and how responsive he'd be, when the consultant was next available and what he'd like to discuss. Suzie heard none of it; her mind was still full of Rachel. The way she'd said no, she wasn't going anywhere, the way she'd sat in her kitchen, her face blotchy and puffy and talked about her children. About her girls and how they made everything different. She'd been almost sanctimonious, using her kids as a reason for not doing the right thing and Suzie wasn't sure how she felt about that, because Adam had not only ripped her life into shreds, he'd also slashed any hopes of her becoming a mother. And Suzie wanted children. Very much. She wanted to see the swell of her belly, to experience the unconditional, overwhelming love for another human being that motherhood brought. Suzie had thought it would happen with Carl, but had been forced to say goodbye to that idea and then, when she met Adam, she'd thought that this was it. This was when it would happen.

  She wasn't yet forty, she still had time. He'd talked of buying a family home with extra room, of moving out of the city, moving somewhere near the open fields, somewhere Suzie had harboured romantic notions of raising children. He'd walked through the baby section of department stores with her and smiled secretly so she'd given him a playful shove. He'd even spoken of how he'd have liked a son and as she walked along that ward, Janine's hushed whispers at the side of her, she realised he'd manipulated even that small slice of her as well.

  He'd been aware of Suzie's maternal longing and toyed with it to cement their relationship that much quicker, to get her money and her trust that much more easily. A new grief descended upon her as they reached his room, Adam had destroyed it all, stolen it. Everything that made her her, her very essence, he'd taken all of her hopes and dreams and contrived to use them against her in his manipulation. It felt like there was nothing left.

  ‘Not too long I'm afraid,’ Janine said. ‘It sounds odd, I know, but we mustn't tire him out. He can't overdo it,’ she smiled. ‘I'll leave you alone for a few minutes.’

  She put her hand on Suzie's shoulder for a moment, mistaking her tears as ones of joy and left. Suzie walked into the room slowly. There were still just as many machines around Adam, for some reason she'd expected them all to be gone now that he was out of his coma.

  He was still lying down, the only difference was that Adam's face was now clear, the small mask that had been over his mouth had disappeared and although his face was swollen, Suzie was glad she could see him properly. She wanted to do this to his face, as it were, as much as she could.

  Walking up to his bedside she looked down at him, his eyes were closed.

  ‘Adam?’

  There was movement, behind the lids and he rolled his head. Janine had said that he was sedated, on medication so they could manage his condition, his pain, and Suzie wished it were something she could undo. Rip out any drugs he had in him, she wanted him to feel everything, every bruise, every cut, every slight alteration to his condition. Being cocooned from his pain was too kind.

  ‘Adam, it's Suzie.’

  He turned his head toward her, his eyes opened and for a second, they registered her. There was a moment of kindness in those eyes, of blessed identification. Acknowledgement that she was here, with him.

  ‘I know,’ she hissed and walked toward him. ‘I found your laptop.’ She leaned over so her face was inches from his, looking down at his swollen features. Her body was shaking, but she waited, waited until his eyes found hers.

  ‘Remote Models,’ she told him.

  His eyes gained clarity.

  ‘Remote Models,’ she said again. ‘I found it all.’

  He blinked.

  ‘I’m taking it all to the police,’ her voice trembled with the force of what she was saying. ‘I’m giving it all to them and you are never getting out of prison again.’

  She stared at him.

  His arm moved, waved on the bed, his hand searching out hers.

  ‘You filthy bastard,’ she said and then, she did something that she had never done in her entire life. She spat at him.

  Her spittle landed on his cheek, it seemed feeble. She expected to feel different. She’d expected to feel vindicated, absolved. But as she looked at him, her pathetic effort of defiance a few drops of her spit on his cheek, the feeling didn’t come.

  He made a sound, tried to form a word and she stepped back. She watched as he moved his arm, his hand waving about from his elbow. He was trying to find her, to get her hand, even now, he was searching her out. Trying to make it right. She watched his hand reach to her and the gesture made her want to vomit.

  She put her hand to her mouth. Took another step away from the bed. Where was the feeling of justification? Why didn’t she feel different? An overwhelming urge to run came over her, to sprint out of the room and along the ward. To go as fast as she could and get as far away as she could.

  His arm was still looking for hers, dangling around from the elbow searching for something, trying to get at some comfort and his head lolled from side to side. The action was repulsive. Hideous. She stared at him like people stare at motorway accidents, horrified but unable to look away. How could she have loved this man? Planned a life with him? A future? He was searching for her, still. His hand reaching for her comfort, as if he could explain it all away, pick up where they left off.

  She'd been to bed with him. Had sex with him. She’d held him, kissed him, shared her dreams and hopes with him. Loved him. Been seduced by the version he presented of himself to her with no question. She had been so trusting, so gullible. What kind of woman did that make her? To not know, to have no idea? What did that say about her version of love, about what she expected from a relationship?

  Her heart started to pound and her stomach clenched. She had expected to feel some kind of closure. She wanted to feel vindicated. She wanted to call him a pervert to his face, a filthy bastard and be done with it. Leave full of rage and anger and go to the police to turn him in, but that wasn’t happening. Instead, the foul feelings she had toward him were now turning in on herself and she stumbled back, horrified. Watching his head turn, his hand run along the bed sheets trying to find hers.

  No, she would have to leave, and quickly. She couldn’t be here.

  Go to the police, go to her parents, her friends and beg for mercy. Plead for forgiveness at her ignorance, at her complete and utter blindness as to what kind of monster she'd fallen in love with.

  She took a step back, her hand at her mouth and left the room in a rush, only to collide with someone else.

  ‘Rachel?’

  Rachel was leaning heavily on her crutches, panting. Her face a sheen of sweat. She was without a jacket and there was a bluish tint to her skin.

  ‘Rachel, what are you…?’

  ‘I got a taxi,’ she said not looking at Suzie. ‘They don’t know I’m here. I left as Phil was calling the police, Katie in her room. Crying.’

  She was staring at the room, the doorway to where Adam was, her eyes fixed. Unblinking.

  ‘I realised that once the police knew,’ she said quietly, ‘that this couldn’t happen.’

  Suzie shook her head, not understanding.

  ‘And I’d never get to see him. The man who did all this. Who abused my daughter, who turned my husband into a man who wanted to kill. I’d never get to talk to him.’

  Rachel was breathing hard at the side of her. Suzie should take her into the family suite, sit her down, get her a coffee. She looked manic, unstable. Rachel needed to calm down. Suzie should call Phil, tell him to come and collect her. Rachel was not herself, her cast must be painful, she needed to rest. She clearly wasn’t thinking straight, running to the hospital like this, alone. To the place where the man who’d ruined everything was. Who knew what Rachel was thinking as she stood there, staring into the room where Adam lay? She looked deranged, exhausted and unhinged. Suzie should call her family, tell them where she was, take Rachel away. Instead, she took a
deep breath.

  ‘He’s in there, Rachel,’ she said pointing to the room she’d just come out of. ‘Adam is in there.’

  31

  Rachel

  Phil had been trying to get hold of Jessica when I left. Katie had gone to her room, she was confused, upset and couldn’t stop crying. She ran upstairs as Phil went to make the calls. He’d rung a solicitor, and was trying to get a message to Jessica, who was at college, oblivious to it all.

  We needed to tell her, to talk together as a family. To get legal advice and make some kind of plan before we called the police. And I as sat there, listening to Phil’s low tones from the other room, it occurred to me that once we did tell the police the truth, once Phil had confessed, and solicitors and lawyers and whoever else was involved, then I’d never have an opportunity like this again.

  He was lying in a hospital bed, not very far from where my family was imploding and he was conscious. Once I had the idea, it wouldn’t leave me. I knew I had limited time and I had my mobile phone.

  The taxi arrived in ten minutes. By that time Phil had spoken to a solicitor and was trying to get hold of Jessica. I saw it pull up and I didn’t even get my jacket, just grabbed my handbag and left. I figured I had a good fifteen minutes before they realised I was gone, Katie would stay in her bedroom and Phil had a long list of calls to make whilst he still could: his parents, people at work, so I didn’t panic.

  I wasn’t surprised to see Suzie there, coming out of that room, her hand over her mouth like she might throw up. She looked like I felt, raw. And then I was in the room. With him. Alone. A body in a bed. Me and him. The man who’d ruined it all.