So he’d done nothing. Sophie had shaken him one more time, pushing her angry face closer to his while muttering her final warning, and had gone back into the room, pulling a limp curtain across the doorway. He’d heard her say, ‘It’s that perv: your very own Creepy Guy. Come with me, Liv. Seriously, you need to know who this guy is.’
Olivia had laughed. ‘Okay. Next time you see him, point him out to me. Let’s sort it once and for all.’
‘I can’t believe you’ve not noticed him. Look, Liv, you really do need to be careful. There’s something not right about him,’ Sophie had responded.
Bitch.
From that moment on, he’d had to keep his distance. He’d still been able to watch her, though. He’d even followed her home one night, but then the wonder-boy Danush had stepped out from behind a tree just at the wrong moment, and Robert had had to slide silently into an open gateway to avoid being seen.
He was glad he had hurt Sophie. She deserved it for what she had done to him.
Now he pushed thoughts of Sophie from his mind. He needed to focus on Olivia; she was the only one who mattered.
Robert used the whole journey to Poole to devise his plan. Once the ferry arrived at Guernsey, he would have to find out how to get to Alderney. Even though a boat was going to add a further three hours to the journey, it seemed the safest option.
And then he would find her.
Olivia was going to get the surprise of her life. He smiled at the thought. She had been clever, but she had underestimated him.
Somebody must know where she was hiding. Taking the children out of the school system was a clever trick, but he would start wherever there were the most people – the town centre, if there was such a thing, or maybe he could ask in some of the bars. Somebody was bound to know.
You can’t hide from me, Olivia.
And when he’d found her?
He’d told her two years ago exactly what he would do if she ever left him. And now he would prove to her that he had meant every word.
38
Sophie and I had devised my escape strategy in secret. I had uncovered each of the schemes Robert had devised to bind me to him, and I was aware of all the methods he was using to scrutinise my every move. I couldn’t afford to overlook any part of his master plan. Sometimes I had to allow him to make me look stupid. I knew what he was trying to do, but I had to go along with it, or he would have stepped up his game.
His first trick was with the school, and it was so successful that he repeated it more than once. He promised to pick the children up, and then he didn’t. He left them there, thinking their mummy had forgotten them. He diverted the home phone to his mobile so that when the school phoned to say the children were waiting, he could intercept the call and leave it unanswered. They would believe I had gone out and forgotten my children, or maybe I wasn’t capable of answering the phone. So then they would have to call Robert and explain that I hadn’t turned up.
After the first time I knew what he was doing, but what choice did I have? If I had gone to the school in spite of everything, he would know that I understood his game and he would have devised something worse. And the children were safe. I had no doubt he would finally collect them, acting the role of the caring father struggling to cope with a slightly demented wife.
I knew exactly how he would play it. He would race up to the school gates and apologise, stumbling over his words in his apparent anxiety, giving the clear impression I had forgotten my children – or perhaps that I had a problem: drink, drugs, or some sort of mental instability.
He told Nadine Stokes – the school’s head teacher – that he was going to try to call me each day to check that I’d remembered to pick the children up, and he would do his best to make sure it didn’t happen again. He tried to make me believe that I was the one at fault, and if it hadn’t been for Sophie I might have started to think he was right. He would lull me into a false sense of security for a while, confusing me by telling me that I was doing well, making me question my own sanity. Then he’d do it again.
I know he had a word with one or two of the other mothers, asking them to keep an eye out in case I came for the children and then wandered off, or left with only two of them instead of all three. He put it down to me going through a rough patch. I wouldn’t have known about this, but Robert chose badly. One of the women was a natural bitch – all women recognise them, but men rarely do. While most of the mothers he had spoken to treated me with sympathy if a little suspicion, the bitchy one couldn’t wait to have a dig – to undermine me with the odd comment, thinly veiled with saccharine sweetness and a smile that failed to hide the glint of pleasure in her eyes at somebody else’s apparent downfall.
Still I played along. Even when he suggested that dreadful schedule on the kitchen wall, I agreed it would be a good idea. Any fool could see that it wasn’t there to remind me of what I should be doing. It was there to control me, so that if Robert came home unexpectedly, which he liked to do sometimes to ‘surprise’ me, he would know exactly where I was. When he dialled 1471 on the telephone to see who had last called, he needed to be sure I had logged every call. Otherwise, he would have been suspicious.
And then there were the cameras. He hid them well, but not quite well enough. I’ve always hated housework with a vengeance, but I did it. It was my job, after all, and I did it well. If I had to live in a cage, it might as well be a gilded cage in every sense. I was living in relative luxury with no freedom, so whenever I thought I was going to cry, I would get down on my hands and knees and scrub the kitchen floor. If I sat still and did nothing – because really, once the house was clean there was precious little that I had to do – a sense of dejection and hopelessness would descend on me. So I would immediately set to and polish the furniture. I knew every nook and cranny of that house, which meant that nothing within those four walls was a mystery to me. Not even his precious locked study. But once more I acted dumb and let him get on with his games, while all the time planning my escape with Sophie’s help.
Getting out of the house was easier than I thought. There were no cameras in the hall or on the landing, or – thank God – in the children’s bathroom. And there was no bath in our en suite. So I got into the habit of taking long baths every couple of days. I would go into the bedroom and play a game of pretending to grab a bathrobe, twist my hair up in a knot, select some toiletries from my dressing table and disappear off camera for an hour and a half. Then I would reappear in my bathrobe and lie on the bed reading a book. A perfectly relaxed day.
I had no idea how I was going to make my final escape, though, because I didn’t have a pound to my name. I couldn’t take any money from my household allowance, because Robert knew where every penny went. I had to earn some, and earn it quickly.
Sophie and I toyed with so many ideas, only drawing the line at prostitution. And yet, in many ways I’d been doing that for years – having sex with a man I didn’t love who kept a roof over our heads. What’s the difference, really?
Sophie offered to lend me the money – my escape fund – but how would I ever be able to repay her? Anyway, it wouldn’t have been enough. I needed to have sufficient money to support us until we were safe. And I didn’t know how long that might be.
Finally we came up with a plan that stood a small chance of success. It was risky, and there was every possibility that it wouldn’t work, but I had to try something. So I borrowed just five thousand pounds from Sophie, and gambled it all by becoming an online trader. I had studied economics, for goodness sake; surely I could make some money this way? I bought the smallest laptop I could find and hid it in the blanket box in the spare room, under all the bedding we’d bought for when we had guests; all still in its packaging and unlikely to ever come out. I knew Robert wouldn’t find it. Sophie had already used her unbelievably extensive contacts and had set up my false identity and bank account, and all transactions were online so it was remarkably easy to get going.
To start with, th
ough, it was a disaster. I was basing my decisions on short-term information, and not really thinking and planning ahead. I realised I needed to look at the economic landscape as a whole, and by using my knowledge and working hard at it, the decisions became more educated. The first four thousand pounds disappeared in no time at all, but finally I got the hang of it. I started balancing my risk and things began to look up. The money had nearly gone though, and fear was making me too cautious. I was gaining, but too slowly. So Sophie lent me more – another ten thousand – money I might never have been able to repay if I’d failed in my task. I needed to make enough to escape, and gain the confidence to believe I could continue earning in the future, because Robert must never find us.
But now I’ve done it. I’m free and I feel as if the tight clamp that was holding my body and mind together has been released. It finally feels safe to sleep at night, and gradually I have stopped waking every two or three hours to check that my children are still here, still safe, still with me. It’s been two weeks now, and we’ve hidden our tracks so well. The kids have been great. They’ve adapted brilliantly to island life, and even though I’m teaching them at home at the moment, hopefully they’ll soon be able to mix with the other children – when they are used to their new names.
They thought it was such fun to start with when I asked them to pick a name from their favourite characters in books or on television. These were to be our holiday names. And they stuck with it. Billy is now Ben, Freddie is George – potentially the most difficult choice but as he’s only four I don’t think we need to worry so much – and Jaz is Ginny. She really wanted to be Hermione, but I told her to choose another name from Harry Potter, because Hermione was too memorable. Ginny is apparently Ron Weasley’s sister, and so guaranteed to be cool in Jaz’s eyes. I’m now Lynn. I would have chosen something more exotic, but Lynn’s an easy name and enough like Liv that I’m comfortable with it.
There were a couple of dodgy moments when the children used their pretend names at home, but Robert never paid them that much attention so he probably put it down to the normal silliness of children. And there was the time when the Alderney hedgehogs came on the television. Jasmine’s look of horror was such a giveaway, poor child. But I don’t think Robert noticed.
I knew from the beginning that wherever I chose for our new home, we would have to visit it long before our final escape. A woman alone with three children, no matter what we had done to change our appearance, would stand out like a sore thumb if we had arrived out of the blue. So we’ve been here twice before, and made ourselves as visible as possible. When the police inevitably report that we’re missing, they will have no photos and nobody here believes we are newcomers.
The children haven’t asked many questions. Billy – no, I must call him Ben – asked me why I’d decorated my bedroom in our new house so that it exactly matches the bedroom at home in Manchester. I couldn’t tell him the truth, and I hate lying to them. I said it made the house feel more like home. That time is over now, but for seven nights last week I had to lie on the bed pretending I was in Manchester while I spoke to Robert on FaceTime. I can’t wait to rip the room to bits and change every single plum-coloured cushion from the colours of my nightmare. Tomorrow I’m going to get a big box and stuff every identifying feature out of sight.
I even had to kit out one room so that it looked bland enough to be a typical bed and breakfast room with the requisite pair of patterned cushions in a colour not too masculine and not too feminine – a nice mid blue – placed at an angle against the pillows and the matching throw over the bottom third of the bed piled high with neatly folded clean towels. I knew that when I spoke to Robert he would want to look around the room and see the view from the window, so thank goodness I was able to show him a strip of beach. There was nothing to make him think I was anywhere other than Anglesey. Not so much as an ice-cream van. Just a long stretch of bright, pale sand. He had to be reassured that everything was exactly as it should be, and I’d chosen my fake location well. Robert had never been to Cemaes Bay, so he wouldn’t know the difference.
The children can’t believe how lucky they are to be living this close to the beach every single day, and not just for holidays. It pushes everything else to the backs of their minds, and they will have had three or four months of this before the reality of winter takes the shine off. Perhaps by then I will be able to send them to school. But I don’t know. While Robert is on this earth, I am not sure we will ever be safe, because he has made it very clear that he isn’t prepared to live without me.
For now, though, I feel secure. There is nothing to guide him to us here, and gradually I am beginning to relax.
39
‘Liv? Oh thank the Lord for that. I can’t tell you how relieved I am to hear your voice.’
Sophie hadn’t realised that she had been holding her breath.
‘Are you okay, Soph?’ Liv asked. ‘I’ve been worried about you. You’re usually so prompt. I nearly called you, but I didn’t know for sure if it would be safe. Are you okay? Is your mum okay? I thought maybe she’d had another fall, or something.’
Liv was rambling, and Sophie knew she had to shut her up. But she didn’t know how to tell her what had happened. Thank God she had left her special pay-as-you-go phone – or ‘Liv phone’ as she called it – in the car when she’d unpacked the shopping. At least Robert hadn’t got his filthy hands on it.
‘Listen – I don’t want you to panic, but he was here. Robert. The arsehole was here. In my fucking house.’
Sophie could have kicked herself. She didn’t mean to sound so angry. She had planned to be calm. But as soon as she mentioned his name her anger and hatred boiled over. She heard a gasp and realised how stupid she’d been. Liv had so much to worry about and she didn’t need to add to her distress.
‘Oh Sophie, no. Oh God, I’m so very sorry. What did he say?’
How could she tell her that it wasn’t so much what he said?
‘He’s not going to give up, Liv. I’m sorry, but you’ve got to believe me. He was mental, incensed, practically foaming at the mouth. Look, I’d spare you this if I could, but he’s going to move heaven and earth to find you. Are you sure you’re safe?’
‘Never mind me, what about you? Did he hurt you? Is your mum okay? Please tell me Robert didn’t hurt her? I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean you to suffer.’
Sophie heard a sob from the other end of the phone, and screwed her eyes tight. Bugger.
‘Mum’s fine. Don’t worry. We’re both fine – but Liv, are you sure you’re safe?’
‘I think so. I don’t know how he could find us here. There was one little slip at home, but Robert wasn’t paying much attention. We’ll be fine. But it’s you I’m worried about. How the hell did Robert find you? Why did he even come looking for you?’
‘Listen, I need you to calm down because I’ve got quite a bit to tell you. So, first of all, where are the kids? Are they okay?’ Sophie asked.
‘They’re fine. Actually, they’re having a whale of a time.’ There was a pause from the other end of the phone, and Sophie could practically see her friend trying to pull herself together. ‘They’re playing on the beach. I’m sitting on a bench nestled in the sand dunes, watching them. If it wasn’t for everything else, I’d feel like I was in heaven. I just need to watch the waves for a moment and listen to them gently whooshing on to the shore, and I’m calm again. It’s amazing how soporific it is.’
Sophie relaxed. Liv clearly felt she was in a safe place, and right now that was the priority.
‘Well, don’t fall asleep on me. I need to tell you what’s been happening. First of all, Robert knows I’m the one who’s been staying at Mrs Evans’ place in Anglesey.’ Sophie waited, expecting an explosion of sound from Liv.
‘Oh,’ was all she got. She waited to see if Liv would say more, but it seemed to take her a while to gather her thoughts. ‘How did that happen? Do you know?’ Liv said with remarkable calm. This wasn’t supposed
to have happened.
‘I think I’ve worked it out. There was a dreadful couple staying at the place. The wife never had her stupid camera out of her pudgy little hands, and I’d been dodging around for a couple of days to avoid the silly cow. Anyway, I was coming out of the front door, and she got me. I turned back quickly, but apparently she’d managed to capture my profile. She sent the photo to Mrs Evans at the guest house. God, I’m a stupid idiot. I should have snatched the camera and thrown it in the sea. I’m so sorry, Liv.’
Sophie couldn’t help thinking that she’d let Liv down.
‘Sophie, darling, please don’t apologise for anything. You’ve been amazing. You’ve done more than I could ever have asked of anybody. Just tell me what happened.’
‘Your creep of a husband came a-calling.’ Sophie told Liv the rest, leaving out anything to do with tying to chairs or knives in wounds. Liv listened without saying a word.
‘Then finally, he asked me where you were.’
‘And what did you say?’ Liv responded quietly.
She couldn’t tell Liv she had passed out at that moment so wouldn’t have been able to answer even if she had known.
‘Well, I don’t bloody know where you are, do I, so I didn’t tell him anything. You made the right call there. I wouldn’t have told him, but it’s better that I really don’t have a clue.’ Sophie paused. She was now going to have to explain about the police. But before she did, Liv started talking.
‘But how did he know where you live, Sophie?’
Sophie sighed. Liv had still failed to completely grasp the depths of Robert’s early obsession, in spite of all that had happened since.
‘Liv – listen to me. Robert wasn’t just some guy who had a crush on you all those years ago. He was as obsessed then as he is now. You came with me to see my mum lots of times, and Robert being who he is, there’s more than an outside chance he was following you, watching you. It’s what he does. So he would know exactly where my mum lives. He couldn’t have known I’d be here, but he had a pretty good idea that she might actually know where I was – and I guess he just hit the jackpot.’
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