‘I know you’re going to say it’s risky, but is it okay if I stay here for a couple of days?’ Jack said. ‘Nobody’s going to be watching your house after all this time, but I’ll be careful going in and out and I’ll be making a few trips to find the perfect place to live. Do you mind, or does it put you in a difficult position professionally?’
Tom almost laughed. After what he had done to help his brother’s family already, having him stay hardly counted. The only problem was that if anyone had any doubt about whether Jack was dead or alive, Tom’s home was the obvious place to watch.
‘Nobody has the first idea I’m alive, Tom. It’s years now – nearly eight, to be precise – since my so-called accident. And nobody from back then has been sniffing around. I’d know if they had, you know that. I have alerts on my name, yours, Emma’s, the kids’, and all the obvious suspects. Plenty gets said, but nothing we have to worry about. They stopped looking long ago.’
Tom knew that Jack had the tools to check anything that was posted online, especially in the depths of the dark web. He hoped his brother was right.
‘Anyway,’ Jack said, ‘what’s all this stuff about my old mate Nathan?’
‘Oh, you read that, did you? His sister’s missing. Do you remember her?’
‘Not really. No trace?’
‘Nothing. She’d been on holiday just before she went missing, and I’m guessing she met up with some people and went travelling.’
Jack said nothing and swilled the whisky round in his glass. Tom could almost hear his mind turning things over.
‘Have you lot taken it seriously?’
Tom blew out a long breath. ‘It’s difficult. So many people disappear every year – every day, come to that – and so we have to take a view about their vulnerability. Her risk level is low, so other than some obvious checks, I doubt much has been done.’
‘What about her computer, social media, that kind of stuff?’
‘Nathan doesn’t know the password for her computer. Her social media accounts have been checked as far as possible, but he doesn’t know her friends and everything’s locked down to outsiders. Because of the low risk level, her laptop won’t have been sent for investigation. It’s expensive to do and not a priority.’
‘You’d better get it to me then,’ Jack said, as if that was going to be the easiest thing in the world to do.
‘I can’t do that, Jack – it’s not my case.’
‘So phone Nathan and tell him you’ve got a friend who’s a bit of a dab hand at getting into other people’s computers.’
Tom laughed. ‘Nathan’s got plenty of money. I’m sure he’ll have hired someone to try to hack her computer.’
‘Well, he hasn’t employed the best, has he?’
‘I see you’re as arrogant as ever,’ Tom said, raising an eyebrow at his brother.
Jack grinned. ‘Come on, Tom. A laptop isn’t going to be a problem for me, is it? What have you got to lose?’
‘I’ll think about it,’ he said, staring at the golden liquid in his glass.
The problem with Jack was that he always made Tom question his own ethics. In his career as a policeman he hadn’t always followed the rules, sometimes allowing his belief in justice for the individual to override the laws he was supposed to be upholding. But Jack took this further, arguing that the end often justified the means. It was how he had rationalised some of his past illegal enterprises, which he still maintained had benefited his victims.
Knowing Jack had committed crimes didn’t in any way diminish Tom’s affection for his brother, which came from the heart, not the head. But sometimes Tom found it difficult to know where to draw the line – when to deny Jack what he asked for. And this was one of those times.
42
Last night Thea came for me again, and I felt myself shaking at the thought that I had to go for another treatment. But I wasn’t ushered into the doctor’s study. He was waiting in the corridor at the top of the stairs, no more than a silhouette, backlit by the dim wall lights. They demanded to know if I had made a decision. Was I going to stay, or was I going to take my chances and leave?
I had thought of nothing else. Neither option felt good, but it would feel no better if I had another day, a week or even a year to consider it. They weren’t prepared to give me any more time. I had to make a decision on the spot, so I told them I would stay. I couldn’t see any other option. They seemed pleased, and I felt guilty about not being more grateful.
‘You will be a big help to me in the house,’ Thea said. ‘And the doctor is working on a wonderful research project. You will be able to help with that too.’
I was sure she was referring to the doctor’s exploration of the origins of evil, using me as his source material, and I shuddered at the thought. But what choice do I really have?
The two other women were in their rooms when I returned. I wanted to talk to them, to find out whether they too had been forced to make such a difficult decision, but I don’t know if I can trust them. I still haven’t asked the girl who has the room opposite me why she has a photograph of Paul in her diary.
I was about to go into my room when I heard muffled crying from across the corridor, and I thought maybe I had upset the girl by asking too many questions earlier. I remembered what she had said to me: ‘I don’t know why I did it.’ ‘I loved him.’ ‘I took him.’ But I still didn’t know what she was talking about, so I knocked softly on her door and pushed it open.
‘Are you okay?’ I asked – a silly question, given her blotchy cheeks and bloodshot eyes. ‘I’m sorry if I made you remember something you would rather forget.’
She gave a choked laugh. ‘I can’t forget. The problem is, I can’t remember either.’
‘Do you want to tell me about it?’ I asked, not for the first time.
‘I’ve told you,’ she said.
‘You said you took him and you loved him. But I don’t know who you mean.’
‘I took the baby – Albie. I took him.’ She seemed to be getting slightly hysterical so I sat down and put my arm around her again, pulling her close to me.
We talked about it for a long time, and gradually her story came out – how she had been working as a nanny for a couple who had a baby called Albie, a baby she had dearly loved. And then, for some reason that she couldn’t explain to herself, she had abducted the child. She had brought him here and asked Thea and the doctor to help her keep him as her own. Thea had immediately taken control of the situation, and the baby had been safely returned to his parents. She didn’t explain how, but she was so distressed that I didn’t want to make things worse by asking. Thea and Garrick had been sheltering her here ever since, safe from prosecution for what she had done.
Finally, as I rocked her slowly backwards and forwards, she started to drift and I realised she was falling asleep. I helped her into bed and pulled the covers over her, as if tucking in a child.
It was a long time before I got to sleep myself, my heart breaking for both the girl and for the baby’s parents. She didn’t seem capable of doing anything so shocking, and all I could think was that it had to have been a single moment of madness.
Now it’s morning, though, and a working day. Apparently every day is a working day.
I still know nothing about the other woman, the third Judith. She won’t talk. If ever I get her alone, she just says that her time is coming, that she will soon be free. I don’t know what she means, and I’m not ready to ask yet. She went for a treatment late last night and was gone for a long time. I fell asleep and didn’t hear her come back. She is here now, though, and in a few minutes we will be summoned up into the house to clean. My duties are restricted to the ground floor. I don’t think they trust me with the bedrooms yet.
I’m playing a game, pretending to be under the influence of Thea’s potions. But I’ve ingested nothing that will affect my conscious mind for a while now, and as my brain starts to function normally I am becoming increasingly anxious. One minute I’m
grateful to Thea and Garrick for their help in saving me from arrest. The next, I distrust them completely because of the drugs and the spy cameras. I can’t make sense of it.
I hear the buzzer go, and this time I know it’s not the signal to return to our rooms. I join the other two as we trudge upstairs to start the morning’s cleaning. I have to do the drawing room today, and I lower my head and shuffle slowly along as the others do, making my way towards what always struck me as such a beautiful, restful room. It will be the first time I’ve been back there since I was moved to the basement. Last time I was there – my life before, as I now think of it – I had sherry with Thea and the doctor. Life had seemed dreadful then, but it was nothing compared to this.
The three of us go to a storeroom where there are trays set out with all that we will need – dusters, polish, hand brushes, glass cloths – and the other two head for the stairs. Laden with the tools of what is now my trade, I slowly walk barefoot along the hall towards the drawing room. It is just as beautiful as I remember, and for a moment I wander around, touching some of the lovely items. I can’t help being drawn to the decanters and wonder if I could risk sneaking a small sherry. I hated it when I first came here, but after a few days it became something of a lifeline.
There are several decanters, each with a beautifully engraved silver label hanging around its neck. I can see one that says WHISKY, another BRANDY – Garrick’s tipple of choice – and third in the group is SHERRY. It is tempting, but I know Thea would smell it on my breath, so I simply dust the cut glass. There is another decanter, which looks remarkably similar to the sherry one. It has a tag round its neck with just one letter on it: J.
I quickly take the stopper out of the bottle and sniff. Then I do the same with the one labelled SHERRY. They smell identical.
I have the urge to pick up the decanter and hurl it at the window because I suddenly know exactly why it is labelled J. I stand for a full minute, holding it so tightly in my hand that I fear the crystal will shatter. Every woman in the house apart from Thea is known as Judith. I wonder if they have all been dosed with the doctor’s sherry before being moved to the depths of the cellar?
I turn away from the decanters and carry on with my tasks, but my anger mounts as I move on to the other rooms in this part of the house. I need to stick to my schedule because when the clock strikes twelve I am supposed to return my cleaning things to the storeroom and trail back downstairs. The door has been left open for this purpose, and the last one through closes it behind them.
Finally, twelve o’clock comes, and I take my materials back to where they belong. I’m first to pack away because I’m the only one working on this floor, and suddenly I have an idea. I have time to carry out my plan, I’m sure, before the others come downstairs, and Thea and Garrick are nowhere to be seen, so I scurry along the corridor back towards the drawing room. I rush over and smile to myself as I swap the labels on the sherry decanters. Let’s see how Thea feels about being drugged.
I nearly jump out of my skin as the silence of the house is suddenly shattered by the shrill peal of the doorbell. I have never known there to be a visitor, but I do know that Thea will be coming along the corridor from the kitchen, blocking my escape route. The other girls will be on their way down to the cellar now, but I have no way of getting past Thea.
‘Shit!’ I mutter. What if she brings her visitor in here?
I look around, but there isn’t anywhere to hide. I’ll just have to brazen it out and hope that if she invites her visitor into this room, he or she won’t recognise me from the news. With fumbling fingers, I swap the labels back, terrified Thea will give the drugged sherry to someone else.
I hear footsteps right outside the door, which I left ajar when I came in, and the thud of bolts sliding back on the front door. I crouch down low, in case Thea or her visitor glances in here. There is a brief silence.
‘You!’ Thea says, anger clear in her voice.
‘Yes, Thea. I’m back.’ It is a man’s voice, thick with a northern accent, and there is nothing friendly in his tone. ‘I told you I’m not going to give up – I’ve been telling you that for a whole year. This time I’m not going to be fobbed off. I’m not going anywhere until I’ve seen her. Now get out of my way.’
‘Are you really going to use force against an old woman, Vincent? Surely not even you would stoop so low.’
I hear an exasperated sigh. ‘Not unless you leave me no choice, but you can’t stop me shouting for her. Even in this house, if I shout long enough and loud enough she’ll come. She’ll see me, talk to me.’
‘She has no desire to see you – not now, nor ever again.’ I hear the fury in Thea’s voice. ‘She’s told me not to let you in. She doesn’t want anything from you. It’s over, Vincent. You’re done.’
The man speaks in a low growl, and I can only just pick up his words, although the tone speaks for itself. ‘You’re lying. She’s my wife. She would never have left me without an explanation.’
There is a bit of a scuffle and Thea gives a small yelp. Should I go to her aid? Is he hurting her?
‘Give over. I didn’t hurt you.’ His voice is closer. He must have got past her.
‘Get out of my house,’ she says, anger and determination in her voice.
‘She’s going to have to tell me herself if she wants a divorce. I’m not taking your word for it.’ Then the man yells, ‘Judith! It’s Vincent! I’ve come to get you. We’re going home. Judith!’
43
My thighs are beginning to ache from crouching for so long, but the man who calls himself Vincent has finally left, promising to be back very soon. Which Judith was he searching for? The one I’ve been speaking to has only been here since November, so it has to be the older woman. Is she the original Judith, and Vincent her husband?
After Thea slammed the door on him, I heard her stomp off to her kitchen, muttering to herself. I could tell the incident had disturbed her, but I’m sure she would be furious if she knew I had heard everything.
All I care about now is whether I will be able to make it back down to the basement unnoticed, so I creep along the corridor on tiptoe, moving as quickly as I can, and push open the door that leads into the small room hiding the entrance to the cellar. In the dim light the door looks as if it is closed, and my heart sinks. I inch towards it, certain that when I push against it I will find it locked and will have to admit to Thea that I have broken her rules. I should be safely back downstairs with the others by now, and I have no idea how she will react. Will she tell me I have to leave?
I nudge the door with my bare toe and sigh with relief. They have left it ajar for me.
Closing the door as softly as I can, I scuttle down the stairs. The women are at the table. The younger one looks up, and I know I am going to have to speak to her again. Something is far from right in this house, and without drugs in my system I am seeing things more clearly every day. The older woman hasn’t lifted her eyes.
‘Is your husband called Vincent?’ I ask her.
She slowly raises her head and looks at me, deep frown lines between her eyes. ‘No.’ She seems unprepared to offer any more, but if she isn’t Vincent’s wife, who is?
The younger woman is still looking at me, and I indicate with my head that she should follow me. I don’t know if she will or not, but I walk to my room and wait.
I don’t hear her approach, her soft bare feet making no sound on the lino, but when I look up she is standing in the doorway. She says nothing, so I pat the bed by my side. She frowns at me, as if I am asking her to do something dreadful, but then her features relax a little and she makes her way towards me.
‘What’s your name?’ I ask her. ‘And don’t tell me it’s Judith. I know you’re not Judith.’
She looks perplexed, as if this is all too much for her, and I realise I must try to wean her off the drugs if I am going to get any sense out of her. She doesn’t answer, and I reach for her hand.
‘Listen, I’m not spying on you,
but when I first came down here I had a bit of a look around. I’m sorry, but I found your diary.’
Her eyes open wide. ‘I’m not supposed to have that. Thea will take it if she finds it.’
‘Well I suggest you find a better place to hide it then. How did you get it down here? They haven’t let me have any of my own stuff.’
She drops her head, clearly not wanting to tell me.
‘I’m not going to tell tales, you know,’ I say softly. ‘But I want to understand the whole set-up because at the moment I’m not comfortable with how it all works. Please, trust me?’
She is quiet for a moment longer. ‘I went upstairs when they were away.’
I don’t speak, scared that anything I say will throw her and stop her talking.
‘I learned the combination for the keypad by the door. I’ve got an ear for a tune – I used to be a pianist, quite a good one. Anyway, they went away for a while just before you came. I worked out which numbers had to be pressed and in which order from the sounds made by the keys. Do you understand what I mean?’
I know exactly what she means.
For a moment I am puzzled about Thea and Garrick going away. Then I realise it must have been when they were with me, in Myanmar. It’s hard to believe they left the girls here on their own.
‘What did you do about food? Didn’t you try to run away?’
For a moment she looks terrified. ‘It wasn’t a problem. Thea left all the meals in the freezer. They were labelled for each day. And why would I run away? They’re helping us. But I was worried there might be a fire or something and we would be trapped, so I wanted to know how to get out if that happened. And then…well, once I was in the house and I knew they wouldn’t catch me, I was curious and went snooping. I found where Thea had hidden all of my things. Everything was still there. My phone, my house keys, my credit cards, my cash – even my passport. I only took the diary. I don’t suppose she’ll ever check.’
Come A Little Closer Page 19