No Turning Back

by Susan Lewis

  Pulling back to look at him, she said, ‘No, Don, that’s something it’ll never be.’

  His eyes remained on hers as the simplicity of her words tore its terrible truth through his heart. It would never be all right, because it couldn’t be, and as the reality of it closed in around him as though to crush him with its might, he pulled her to him again. ‘I’ll sort it out,’ he promised, his voice cracked with emotion.

  ‘How? What can you do? We’ve tried to stop and …’

  Taking her face between his hands, he gazed harshly into her eyes as he said again, ‘I’ll sort it,’ and knowing that this time he’d have to, he sent a silent prayer to a god he didn’t believe in for the help he knew he’d never receive.

  Johnny Johnson’s investigation agency was located on the third floor of a smart, Georgian townhouse, close to Exeter Cathedral. Eva had chosen to drive into the next county in the hope of avoiding anyone she knew; her visit to such an organisation would be bound to evoke curiosity and gossip if anyone saw her. As it turned out, she needn’t have worried, since there was nothing on the doorbell outside, or anywhere else she could see as she walked up the stairs, advertising Mr Johnson’s chosen profession. It was only when he showed her into his office, which appeared to be a room set aside in a spacious flat, that a clue was offered by a slew of crime-prevention leaflets and surveillance technology brochures pinned on his noticeboard along with a couple of ‘missing’ posters. One was a small boy – Terry, aged four; and the other a teenage girl – Kylie – with bunches and tattoos.

  ‘Were they ever found?’ she asked, as Johnson – a slightly overweight man in his mid- to late fifties, with intense grey eyes and a grizzled beard – showed her to a chair.

  ‘Happily, yes,’ he replied. ‘But they’re old cases from when I was on the force. I keep them there to remind me that not all missing kids end up lost for good. In fact, I’m glad to say, most don’t.’

  Unless you give them up for adoption, she couldn’t stop herself thinking.

  ‘These days,’ he went on chattily, ‘I tend to deal more in debt collections, pre-nup investigations, that sort of thing, and occasionally a cheating spouse. Which isn’t to say that missing persons don’t ever come my way, there are just fewer of them. Can I get you a coffee or tea?’

  ‘Coffee would be nice,’ she replied, feeling even more nervous than she’d expected. ‘White, no sugar. Were you in CID?’

  ‘I was indeed. Detective constable with Avon and Somerset for almost twenty years; Devon and Cornwall for the last five until I retired in 2009. Right, I’ll just pop along to the kitchen to do the honours. Feel free to browse the magazines, or to use the facilities, they’re just across the hall. My good wife keeps everything spotlessly clean, you’ll be happy to hear.’

  Liking him in much the same way she did most policemen, since one way or another they all seemed to remind her of Don, she opened her bag to take out the letter of apology she’d received from the magazine. She was wondering what Don would say if he knew she was here. He’d say she was being extreme, of course, that there was absolutely no need to go to such lengths to find out who’d written the letter of complaint when they could simply call up the editor themselves. And no sooner would the words be out of his mouth than he’d realise that it was a ruse, a way of getting to know the investigator before entrusting him with the real reason she was there.

  This was why she hadn’t confided in Don, because she knew he’d do everything he could to talk her out of it.

  ‘So, you’ve received a letter that’s created a bit of a mystery,’ Johnny Johnson said, bringing in the coffee and a small plate of shortbread displayed on a doily.

  Eva cleared her throat. ‘That’s right,’ she confirmed, watching him sit down. ‘As I said in my email, I’d rather not contact the magazine myself, because I don’t want to open up any kind of contact with them.’

  ‘That’s perfectly understandable,’ he told her affably. ‘Do you have the letter with you, by any chance?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ She took it out of its envelope and handed it over.

  As he read through the spectacles perched on his nose he sipped his coffee, and broke off a small piece of biscuit. ‘I must admit, I saw the article,’ he told her, showing no surprise at who she was, though of course he’d have realised as soon as she came in the door. ‘Do you have any theories on who might have written the letter?’

  ‘Not really,’ she admitted. ‘I’ve asked everyone I thought it might be, but it’s none of them, so I’m afraid I’ve drawn a blank.’

  His eyes came up to hers. ‘Am I allowed to ask why it’s important to know?’

  Feeling her cheeks burn, Eva said, ‘It’s just curiosity really, and, well …’

  When she didn’t continue he simply smiled and said, ‘Do you mind if I take a copy?’

  ‘No, no, please do.’

  After he’d run it through his printer he handed the original back and sat down again.

  Realising she either had to leave now, or come to the real point of why she was there, Eva braced herself as she prepared to continue. ‘There is one other thing,’ she began awkwardly.

  Appearing unsurprised, Johnson merely smiled encouragement.

  ‘It’s not related to this, exactly,’ she informed him, ‘or not at all, in fact. You see, I have a son who I gave up for adoption. He’ll be sixteen soon. I know I’m probably not allowed to ask this …’ She stopped as his hand went up.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said gently, ‘I think I know where you’re going with this, and I’m afraid it’s a search we really can’t undertake.’

  Feeling every bit as crushed as she had by the judge’s ruling, Eva forced herself to her feet. ‘I understand,’ she said shakily. ‘I’m sorry for asking.’

  ‘Please don’t be.’

  Wanting to get out of there before she disgraced herself any further by breaking down, she hooked her bag over her shoulder and turned to the door.

  ‘I’ll be in touch as soon as I have news about the letter,’ he told her.

  ‘Thank you,’ she mumbled, and furious with herself for what she’d done, when she’d never really been in any doubt about what the outcome would be, she hurried down to the street as though trying to escape the frustration and despair that was building inside her.

  Livvy was standing at the counter pretending to be on the phone when the shop door opened and her mother came in.

  ‘Oh my God, it’s you,’ Livvy gasped, clasping a hand to her heart.

  Startled, Patty glanced over her shoulder. ‘Were you expecting someone else?’ she asked.

  Livvy put the phone down. ‘No, not really,’ she replied. ‘It’s just a couple of girls who came in here last Saturday were looking in the window just now.’

  Blinking, Patty said, ‘I don’t think I’m following this.’

  ‘It’s OK, they’ve gone now,’ Livvy told her. Then, registering how pale and dishevelled her mother looked, her tone immediately changed. ‘What’s wrong?’ she demanded. ‘Do you feel ill?’

  ‘No, no, I’m fine,’ Patty assured her. ‘Just a bit of a headache. I’ve popped in to find out what you’re doing tonight. Actually, whatever it is, can you cancel and come over to the house?’

  Panic sprang to Livvy’s heart. ‘Oh, my God, Mum, you’re …’

  ‘It’s not what you’re thinking,’ Patty cut in quickly, ‘I swear, but we do need to talk.’

  Livvy wasn’t liking this one bit. ‘What about?’ she demanded. ‘Is it Jake? Oh my God, something’s happened to him.’

  ‘He’s fine, everyone is – actually, he texted earlier to say he’ll be staying in London for a while when he gets back.’

  ‘I know, I got it too. Mum, what’s going on? You look totally terrible.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘There’s a mirror, see for yourself.’

  Patty didn’t move.

  ‘For God’s sake, will you please tell me …?’

  ‘I will,
darling, tonight. Can you come without Dave? Actually, maybe he could join us later. I’ll organise some food.’

  ‘I can do that. What I …’

  ‘Please don’t press it now,’ Patty implored. ‘I have something to tell you that is not related to my health, but it is important. Now, I’m due in Beaminster at five, so I have to go. Come when you’ve finished here. I should be home before you get there.’

  For several minutes after the door closed Livvy stood staring at it, all concerns about the stalking shoplifters completely forgotten as she tried to imagine what was stressing her mother. She hadn’t seen her like that since her marriage had broken up. Grabbing the phone, she quickly dialled Patty’s mobile. ‘Dad’s dumped you again, hasn’t he?’ she cried.

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Patty snapped. ‘Now, please try to behave like the grown-up you are and wait until this evening.’

  By the time Eva came through the door, half an hour later, there were two people in the shop and one in the changing room, so it was a while before Livvy could tell her about Patty’s visit. ‘Mum was here just now,’ she finally managed. ‘She wants to talk to me about something this evening, but she wouldn’t say what it was. I don’t suppose you have any ideas?’

  Eva looked up from the invoices she was sorting.

  ‘She swears it’s not about the big C,’ Livvy ran on quickly, ‘but you should have seen her – she looked dead strung out again, and I definitely got the impression it’s something serious.’

  Feeling as unnerved as Livvy looked, Eva tried to imagine what could be on Patty’s mind, but after asking the same questions Livvy had about Jake and Reece, she ran out of suggestions.

  ‘I don’t know why, but I’m actually feeling scared,’ Livvy admitted.

  Eva was too, but trying to play it down for both their sakes she said, ‘I’m sure it’s something very simple, and she didn’t realise what vibes she was giving off. She’s like that sometimes when she’s stressed or in a hurry.’

  ‘That’s true,’ Livvy conceded, grasping the straw.

  ‘But when you do find out,’ Eva said, ‘don’t forget to call and let me know.’

  Chapter Ten

  It was gone seven o’clock and pitch dark by the time Eva turned her Smart car into the layby outside the gates, where she gave a wave to the surveillance camera just in case Don was watching. She knew he was already at home because he’d rung while she was in Waitrose wanting to know what time to expect her. As it turned out she was a little later than she’d guessed at, having detoured to the farm shop on the way back to collect some food for Rosie and order fresh supplies for Elvis, whose fodder had to be delivered, since it wouldn’t fit in her car. Unless she took the Range Rover, of course, but after driving it to Exeter that morning, she’d swapped it for the Smart on her return home.

  So, her darling husband would no doubt be pretty hungry by now, she was thinking to herself as she started up the drive, and was no doubt snacking on salami slices or cheese to keep himself going until the evening meal was ready. She hated to nag about his weight, particularly when he was in far better shape than many men his age, but now he was approaching fifty she couldn’t help worrying about his diet. Only last month they’d attended the funeral of a friend who’d had a heart attack on the tennis court, and he’d been two years younger than Don. So it just went to show that no matter how active someone might be – and with all his sailing, golf and running around for the business Don was certainly that – it was always important to eat healthily.

  Inhaling the wonderful scent of woodsmoke that was drifting across the fields as she got out of the car, she went to take her shopping from the boot, loving the cold nip in the air that was making the prospect of a cosy evening at home doubly enticing.

  ‘Goodnight,’ a voice called out from round by the sheds.

  Looking up, she saw the gardener kicking off his wellies before climbing into his truck.

  ‘Goodnight Jack,’ she called back. ‘Has Don paid you yet?’

  ‘Just,’ he confirmed. ‘I told him the bonfire’s out, so no need to worry. She’s just going to smoulder a bit for a while.’

  ‘OK, thanks. Say hi to Jeanie for me.’

  ‘Will do.’

  As she headed for the house, loving the sense of nostalgia that came with chill autumn nights, she found herself wondering what everyone else was doing tonight, especially her son, wherever he might be, out there in the black beyond. Was he happy? Was he looking forward to his birthday? Livvy must be at Patty’s by now, so she wondered how their chat was going, and what it might be about, then she was thinking of Jake and the fabulous time he was having on the shoot. It wouldn’t surprise her if he did decide to take up modelling full-time, but she hoped he wouldn’t. Far better that he continue with his plans to become a lawyer. Did her son’s ambitions lie in the same direction? Or was his heart set on becoming a vet, or a banker, perhaps a musician?

  Would she ever know?

  ‘Hey, there you are,’ she laughed, as Rosie and Elvis rushed to wedge themselves in the conservatory doorway. ‘Yes, yes, your dinner’s here, but I think you’ve probably eaten by now.’

  ‘They have,’ Don told her, coming to take the groceries and swinging them over the odd couple to carry them to the counter next to the fridge.

  After fussing her beloved beasts, Eva edged them into the kitchen, while starting to unbutton her coat. ‘Mm, it’s lovely and warm in here,’ she murmured approvingly. ‘Did you light the fire in the den?’

  ‘No, not yet,’ he replied, and pulling the cork from a bottle of white wine he filled two glasses, while she went to hang her coat in the utility room next to Elvis and Rosie’s pad.

  ‘Don’t tell me, you’ve been on the phone ever since you got in,’ she smiled, coming to give him a kiss. ‘I know you have, or the snack cupboard would have been raided by now.’

  With the ghost of a smile he handed her a glass as he said, ‘You know me too well.’

  ‘Mm, I’ve been looking forward to this,’ she admitted, after savouring the delicious dark berry and wood flavours, and sipping again, she said, ‘OK, I guess I’d better start unloading these bags.’

  ‘Don’t worry about them for the moment. I … I want you to come and sit down.’

  Surprised, she said, ‘But I should at least put the seafood away.’

  ‘There’s something I have to tell you,’ he said, ‘and … Well, I think it would be better if you were sitting down.’

  Feeling an unsteadying unease starting to creep over her, she said, ‘Has something happened? What …?’

  ‘Everyone’s fine,’ he assured her quickly, and taking her hand he led her to the table and gently eased her into a chair.

  Her eyes were wide, almost like a child’s, as she watched him sit down too. ‘Is it the deal?’ she asked, when he seemed unsure how to begin. ‘Has something gone wrong?’

  ‘No, no, it’s not about that.’ His eyes came to hers and her heart turned over to see how anguished he was. ‘There’s no easy way of saying this,’ he told her.

  She waited, searching his face, her breath so shallow that it was hardly there. Something serious had happened, or was about to, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know what it was.

  ‘Eva, I …’ He swallowed hard. ‘I’m leaving you,’ he said softly.

  Though his words hit her heart like a blow, she knew she must have misunderstood, so she simply continued to stare at him.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said roughly. ‘I’m … I – I don’t know what else to say …’

  ‘Do you mean you’re going away?’ she broke in. ‘Is that what you’re saying? It is, isn’t it?’

  His eyes went down as he said, ‘I think you know what I’m saying.’

  She sat back in her chair, a horrible tightness clenching her chest as she started to shake. She was in a nightmare, she had to be, because this was Don who she loved and who loved her. He would never leave her …

  ‘I know this is hard �
��’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ she whispered. ‘I thought we were happy. Are you saying you’re not?’

  He looked away again, and as her world began to shatter into a thousand pieces she felt a horrible panic starting to rise up inside her. ‘Don, what’s happening?’ she cried. ‘I don’t understand. I thought you loved me.’

  ‘I do,’ he insisted, ‘it’s just … Oh God, Eva, I’m sorry …’

  ‘You have to explain. Why are you doing this?’

  ‘Sweetheart, please don’t make me hurt you any more than I already am.’

  Her face was stricken with shock. Her head was reeling. ‘This isn’t making any sense,’ she told him. ‘If you love me … This isn’t really happening, is it?’

  He tried to speak, but no words would come.

  ‘What have I done?’ she urged. ‘Please tell me what …’

  ‘You haven’t done anything,’ he told her, his voice thick with pain. ‘It’s me and what I’ve done.’

  ‘But … Oh my God, are you in trouble? Have you …?’

  He was shaking his head.

  Though understanding was trying to dawn, she couldn’t let it. She had to be wrong, she just had to be, because Don would never cheat on her, or lie, or do anything to hurt her, and not only because he loved her – he’d just said he loved her and he wouldn’t lie, he never lied – but because it wasn’t in him to be that kind of man. So it had to be something else.

  In the end, she said, ‘I need you to tell me that what I’m thinking isn’t what you’re saying. Please, Don, please,’ she begged when he turned his head away. ‘This isn’t you speaking. Something’s happened … I don’t know what it is, but this isn’t you.’

  ‘Eva, I’m sorry, but what you’re thinking is what …’

  Her eyes were desperate as she said, ‘Actually, I’m not thinking anything, so why don’t we just have dinner now and be as we always are. Shall we do that? Please can we do that?’

  ‘Oh, Eva,’ he said brokenly.

  ‘No!’ she cried, reaching for him. ‘No, no. There isn’t anyone else, is there? Please tell me I’ve got it wrong.’