Silent Victim

by Caroline Mitchell

  Again, he dismissed my fears with a shake of the head. ‘Babe. We’re leaving. It’s not as if we can go to the police. Don’t let it bring you down. Now c’mon, get some food inside you. Please.’

  I nodded dumbly, taking a fork from the drawer and spearing a piece of his omelette. I’d added cheese, ham and tomatoes, but it tasted like cardboard on my tongue.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  EMMA

  2017

  An hour of fussing over Maggie had taken the edge off my morning, soothing my anxiety and calming my thoughts. Helping others was what I loved most about my business; it made me feel like I was worthwhile. As Maggie twirled in her latest choice of bridal gown, her smile lit up the room. Feeling a warm glow, I watched her sway before the mirror as she sang ‘I Could Have Danced All Night’.

  Josh handed me the camera. ‘One for the scrapbook,’ he said, with a smile to match my own. The photographs had been his idea, and he had hooked up our digital camera to a Bluetooth printer that delivered images in seconds. Every bride was given one when she chose her gown. That and a glass of Prosecco set us apart from other businesses in town. Thankfully, Maggie didn’t drink, or she would have gotten through several bottles by now.

  Coming down from her cloud, she stood before me, flushed from her exertions. ‘I like this one; it feels swishy when I move.’

  ‘Lace suits you,’ I said, handing Josh the camera as I escorted her to the changing rooms.

  Minutes later she was out of her dress and back in her regular colourful clothes. I handed her the photo to add to her collection. ‘Here you go. Don’t you look lovely? Bernard’s a very lucky man.’

  ‘He was,’ she said, with a sense of finality. ‘This is my last visit. I won’t be coming back.’

  ‘But . . .’ I was just about to ask why, when she silenced me with a gaze.

  ‘I know there’s no wedding, I always have. It’s time to join the real world.’ She smoothed down her hair. ‘Still, it was nice while it lasted, and sweet of you to indulge me.’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ I said, still not wanting to burst the bubble.

  ‘My son’s paid a visit. He’s got it into his head that I’m senile. I don’t want to go into a home.’

  ‘But Bernard . . .’

  ‘Is buried in the graveyard. I’ll still visit him, have a little chat, but I know there’s no wedding. Still,’ she chuckled, ‘it was nice to pretend.’

  ‘You do know you can come here anytime, don’t you?’ I said, following her to the door.

  She shook her head sadly. ‘As the saying goes . . . the past is a nice place to visit but not a good place to stay.’

  As I saw her out, I wondered if I would be echoing her words when I was eighty.

  ‘You OK?’ Josh said, handing me a cup of green tea.

  ‘Ta,’ I said, feeling my throat constrict as I spoke. ‘Yeah, I’m all right, just feeling a bit sorry for Maggie.’ I looked him up and down. ‘You look nice.’ Gone were the ripped skinny jeans and sweater. In their place was a pair of smart black trousers and a white shirt. I was going to make a joke about him having a court appearance but given my own predicament, decided to hold back.

  ‘I thought I’d smarten myself up a bit,’ he explained. ‘You know, I was thinking – perhaps we could do a line in hire for gay weddings.’

  ‘I thought we already did – if both brides hire dresses. Why?’ I said, giving him a wry grin. ‘What are you after? Rainbow colour fabrics like the gay pride flag?’

  ‘Sounds good to me,’ Josh said, with a twinkle in his eye.

  I flashed him a smile. ‘What I want to know is . . . how come you get a lovely rainbow flag?’

  ‘I’ll make you a flag if you like. What colour would suit your lifestyle?’ Josh said.

  ‘Black,’ I said morosely. ‘No, make it grey.’

  ‘Like an old pair of knickers too long in the wash?’ Josh grinned. ‘I can’t see it catching on.’

  I chuckled into my cup as I took a sip of tea. ‘You make me laugh,’ I said. ‘Did you actually have any sensible ideas or were you just trying to cheer me up?’

  Josh clicked his fingers. ‘Oh yeah, I thought we could get a photography shoot done of same-sex couples, use them for promo in selected websites and wedding magazines. We could open the business up to a whole new stream of clients. People will travel if they know we cater for everyone.’

  ‘Sure thing,’ I said, admiring his business acumen. ‘Do your research, work out how much budget we need for marketing and I’ll have a look.’

  ‘Ooh the boss lady is loosening her purse strings. There’s a first time for everything, I suppose.’

  I was just about to respond when there came a familiar jingle from above the shop door. ‘Saved by the bell,’ I said with a smile.

  As I immersed myself with my client, I came to a decision. Maggie was right. The past was not a good place to live. I could not allow it to eat into my soul any longer. Josh had come on so much since I’d given him a chance. I could move to Leeds knowing my business was in capable hands. It was time to give myself a second chance too. But the only way of doing that would be to find Luke and face up to what I had done. There was one person who would know where he was. His brother had moved away, but he had a sister who, so far as I knew, still lived in Colchester. For a long time I had dreaded bumping into her on the street, and hoped I had changed enough that she would not recognise me immediately. But the days of hiding were behind me now. I thought of Jamie, my marriage, and everything I could not afford to lose. It was time to find Luke and put the ghosts of the past to rest.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  EMMA

  2002

  Holding my breath, I pressed my finger on the stiff plastic doorbell. Luke’s house loomed large and imposing. It was a mansion compared to the tiny cottage I lived in. I cast an eye over his car parked on the gravel driveway, appreciating the scent of the chrysanthemums bordering the path. I felt like I was in a game of knock down ginger with my sister, ready to run at the first sign of life. My grip around the bouquet of sunflowers tightened. They had cost me all my pocket money due to them being imported, but you couldn’t put a price on love. I sniffed the flowers, thinking what a beautiful bridal bouquet they would make. I spent a lot of time daydreaming about weddings, when my thoughts weren’t tied up with Luke.

  The sight of his shadow behind the frosted glass made my heart trip over itself in my chest. Wearing my brightest smile, I took a deep breath as he opened the door. ‘Hi,’ I said breezily, even though my limbs were trembling as I stood.

  ‘Emma? What the fuck are you doing here?’ Luke said, craning his neck from left and right before dragging me inside.

  ‘Steady.’ I emitted a nervous giggle at the strength of his grip. ‘You’re keen.’ But as he slammed the door behind me, Luke’s face relayed he was anything but. From a side room I could hear the sounds of the television and I wondered if we were alone. He was wearing a tracksuit, the zip half undone, revealing his toned chest. The same chest I had run my fingers over just a couple of nights before. Tearing my eyes away, I was taken aback to see the spike of annoyance in his gaze.

  ‘I’ll repeat the question, will I? What are you doing, turning up at my house?’

  My smile fell as I absorbed the frosty reception. ‘I . . . I heard you were sick. I thought I’d bring you some flowers to cheer you up.’

  ‘How did you find out where I lived?’ he said. ‘What if my mother had answered the door? You’re lucky she’s out, or there would be hell to pay.’

  My fingers twisted into the bindings tying the bouquet. ‘You weren’t answering my texts. I was worried.’

  ‘Worried about what?’ he said, running his fingers through his hair. ‘And you haven’t answered my question. How did you find out where I live?’

  I responded with a half shrug, my throat dry. I couldn’t allow myself to cry. I was an adult now. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I thought you’d be pleased to see me.’
I held out the flowers, but Luke just laughed in my face.

  ‘What did I say when we met? I’m not a kid, Emma, and this won’t do. I don’t want you coming here again. So you can take your sunflowers and go home.’

  ‘But I haven’t got any bus fare left,’ I said. Naively, I had hoped he would give me a lift.

  Rooting around in his pocket, he produced three pounds and shoved it into my hand. His lip arched in a sneer. ‘Here, get yourself a few sweets out of the change.’

  ‘Why are you being so nasty to me?’ I said, hurt inflaming my words. ‘I don’t understand.’

  Luke sighed, as if he were speaking to an errant child. ‘Look. What we had was fun, but it’s over now. Best you accept that and move on.’

  The tears I had been valiantly holding back forced themselves to the surface. ‘I don’t understand.’

  Patting me on the back, Luke steered me towards the door. ‘Best not to dwell on it. Off you go, and remember, not a word to anyone.’

  Paralysed with disbelief, I stood frozen on the step as the door slammed behind me. The flowers fell from my grasp, my limbs barely able to make it up the gravel path. What had he meant, ‘Best not to dwell on it’? What had I done wrong?

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  LUKE

  2002

  ‘Here, you look like you need it,’ Lorraine said, shoving a freshly made coffee under my nose.

  ‘Cheers,’ I said, gratefully accepting it from her grasp. Sitting in the staffroom, I had chosen my moment carefully, wearing enough of a hangdog expression so she would ask me what was wrong. She was known as a caring soul, a busybody in my opinion, always ready to stick her nose into other people’s business. But on this occasion I wanted to turn it to my advantage; feed the rumour mill before it turned on me. Lorraine smoothed her long black skirt, her beaded necklace jangling as she sat. She had had her blonde hair cut short recently, giving her a pixie look.

  I thought about Emma, wondering if she had taken off her sunflower necklace and noticed the ‘Made in China’ stamp on the back. I hung my head, hiding my smile. How I would have loved to have seen her expression as she realised she had been played. At least I’d managed to dump her before Christmas and spared myself the expense of another piece of tat.

  ‘All right, mate? Students been running you ragged?’ Sean Talbot’s heavy paw clamped down on to my shoulder, spilling my coffee on to my hand. I shook my fingers to disperse the droplets, shaking my head in mock protest. Now the second of my fellow teachers was here, the stage was set. I had deliberately robbed myself of sleep, and would put the dark circles under my eyes to good use. A few years older than me, Sean was a giant of a man. He was dark haired, often unshaven, but very popular with staff. I had made it my business to befriend him from the onset: donating spare concert tickets, buying him an extra round in the pub. It had been worth the cost of my generosity to keep my name clear.

  ‘Have you got five minutes to spare?’ I said, knowing their classes didn’t begin for another twenty.

  ‘Of course, luvvie,’ Lorraine said, wearing a concerned smile.

  I got up and closed the staffroom door before sitting back down. ‘Only this is a delicate matter,’ I said. ‘I’m not sure how to handle it.’

  ‘Go on then, spill the beans,’ Sean said, loudly slurping his coffee.

  ‘It’s one of my students, she’s developed a bit of a crush on me.’ I exhaled, like a kettle too long on the boil, tensing my body for effect.

  ‘Let me guess, Vanessa Baker? The one that wears her skirt up to her backside?’ Sean said. ‘I think she fancies all her teachers, that one. You just have to be careful not to say anything that might be taken the wrong way.’

  ‘That’s just it,’ I said. ‘It’s not Vanessa. It’s Emma Hetherington, the last person you could accuse of being a flirt.’

  ‘Emma?’ Lorraine piped up. ‘She’s so quiet. What makes you think she’s got designs on you?’

  I exhaled loudly, shaking my head. ‘I suppose I’ve only myself to blame. She’s a real talent. I was giving her some extra art lessons, but lately she can’t stay away.’

  ‘She’s had problems at home, poor girl. She’s been very isolated since her mother walked out on her. I’ve been trying to get her involved in some clubs after school but she acts as a carer to her father too,’ Lorraine said.

  ‘I know, she’s confided in me a lot. At first I thought I was helping, but now when I’m in town I see her everywhere I go.’

  ‘You don’t think she’s following you, do you? Maybe you should report it to the head.’

  ‘That’s the last thing I want to do. The poor girl’s just started coming out of her shell. From what she’s told me, she doesn’t have many friends in her life right now.’

  ‘Yes, mate, but you’re not her friend, you’re her teacher,’ Sean said. ‘You need to keep things on a professional level, otherwise you’ll come unstuck. The same thing happened to me last year. Remember Jenny?’ He turned to Lorraine and she responded with a knowing nod.

  ‘She found my mobile number,’ Sean said. ‘She started texting me after school. My girlfriend went ballistic, gave her a piece of her mind.’

  ‘What do you think I should do?’ I said. ‘I don’t want to go to the head with this, not yet.’

  ‘Put an end to those extra classes, at least until things cool down. Don’t leave yourself vulnerable. Keep the classroom door open during lunch, so if she wanders in, everything is open and above board. I’ll talk to her again, see if I can get her involved in some group activities.’

  ‘But if she starts stalking you or acting weird, you’re going to have to report it to the head,’ Sean interjected. ‘Don’t leave yourself open to allegations. Get there first, before she does.’

  I nodded. He was voicing my thoughts. The part about Emma following me was a lie. But I had received three texts already this morning. She was too clingy for my liking, and not worth putting my job at risk for. It was time to nip this dalliance in the bud, before things got out of hand.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  ALEX

  2017

  If betrayal had a smell, it would be that of tar – the kind that sticks to your shoes in the heat of midsummer and bubbles like a living thing on the road. Emma and I had offered each other weary smiles as we pretended everything was all right. I had shrugged off her concerns that someone had invaded our home, tapping on the window while I was away. She must have imagined it. How could this be possible, when Luke had been in the pub with me that night? I felt sick at the thought – and at the prospect of what I was about to do. Involving our son in our troubles was the last thing I wanted, but I desperately needed to know the truth. Jamie squealed with delight as I lifted him in the air, pretending to drop him, only to take him in my arms again. I inhaled the scent of liquorice shoelaces on his breath, allowed only on the condition that he brush his teeth afterwards. Plopping him on our bathroom counter, I wore my best smile. I had locked the door. Emma would be horrified if she knew what I was about to do. But then how many times had she visited our little bathroom to force herself to vomit when she had eaten just minutes before? The scent of lemon bleach and floral air freshener gave her away every time. If only the rest of her secrets were as easily deciphered. Reaching across the counter, I carried out my own form of betrayal.

  ‘Ready to brush your teeth?’ I said, watching Jamie’s eyes roam to the DNA testing kit in my hands.

  ‘What’s that?’ he said, his childish lisp melting my heart.

  ‘It’s a special way of cleaning your teeth. First, you open up . . .’ I gently held his chin between my finger and thumb, dropping it open to insert the bud. ‘Then I give it a little wiggle like this.’ I moved the swab left to right as instructed. ‘Then, hey presto, you’re now ready to brush your teeth.’

  Jamie’s tongue roamed over the inside of his gum where I had gathered his DNA. ‘But what was that, Daddy?’

  Daddy. The word speared my heart. My smile w
obbled and I fought to keep my tone bright. ‘It’s just to check that you’ve not eaten too many sweets. We’d better not tell Mummy, she might not let you have them again. What say you give your teeth a good brush now, have them all nice and clean?’

  I set him down from the counter and ruffled his hair. Pocketing the kit, I had never felt so low. I said a silent prayer that it would give me the answers I wanted.

  ‘Smells nice,’ I said, inhaling the aroma of white wine sauce as I stepped into the kitchen. Pots and pans bubbled on the Aga, filling the room with steam. The extractor had packed up long ago, and I had not got round to fixing it. I opened the back door, allowing the breeze to sweep the steam outside.

  Emma sniffed, tears streaking down her face. ‘Onions, they get me every time,’ she said, nodding towards the chopped pile. ‘It’s chicken, cauliflower cheese and some nice new potatoes.’ She rinsed her hands under the tap before drying them on a tea towel. ‘What are you looking for?’

  I continued to rummage in the kitchen cabinet drawer. ‘Car keys. I swear I’ve just left them here.’

  ‘They’re on the hook in the hall. You’re not going out are you? Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes.’

  ‘I thought I could get us a nice bottle of wine to go with our meal,’ I said, blurting out the best excuse I could think of.

  Emma closed the back door, rubbing her arms as the intrusive breeze plucked goosebumps on her skin. ‘I’ve got some, I was using it for the sauce.’

  I glanced at the wine label. ‘I’m sure we can do better than that. I won’t be long. I promised Jamie I’d pick him up some ice cream.’

  Emma raised an eyebrow. ‘Ice cream and sweets in one day?’

  ‘It’s OK, Mummy,’ Jamie piped up from where he was colouring at the table. ‘Daddy’s got a special way of checking my teeth.’

  ‘Oh yes?’ Emma raised an eyebrow in my direction. ‘A dentist now, are we? Is there anything you can’t do?’