by Carys Jones
Ewan insisted on a McDonald’s breakfast again. He’d clearly developed a taste for them. As he wolfed down his egg-laced muffin, Amanda sipped at her coffee. Each mouthful was horribly bitter even though she’d emptied three sachets of sugar into the little cardboard cup.
‘I can’t wait to see Mummy,’ Ewan grinned as Amanda dabbed at his cheeks with a napkin. He’d managed to get ketchup all over his face.
‘I bet she’ll be pleased to see you too,’ Shane smiled but the gesture didn’t reach his eyes which seemed flat and empty. Amanda saw her own grief reflected in them. It felt strange to consider herself so fragile, like a glass version of the woman she’d previously been. She was now glass and lead rather than flesh and bone. Fragile and heavy all at once.
‘And Daddy?’ Ewan’s green eyes flashed between the two adults at his table. Woody was on his lap, mirroring the child’s penetrating gaze with wide plastic eyes.
‘Daddy…’ Amanda placed a hand on Ewan’s shoulder. This wasn’t a conversation she was ready to have. But she knew she’d never be ready. ‘Daddy won’t be coming back to the flat. It’s going to be just you and Mummy, like before.’
The only saving grace in the mire of such a devastating loss was that Will hadn’t been a constant presence in his son’s life. He’d shown up for the first time in years just under forty-eight hours ago. In a week he’d become a distant memory for Ewan. Soon all thoughts the boy had of his father would dilute to the point where Ewan wouldn’t trust them, would consider them fragments of a crazy dream he’d once had.
And Evangeline?
Amanda did not welcome the conversation she’d have to have with Will’s first wife. How would she even start to explain why she had taken Ewan away? Why Will/Jake hadn’t come back with her? And how much was it even safe to tell her?
‘When we get there, I can do the talking, if you like.’ Shane was watching her from across the table, his coffee frozen midway to his lips. He sensed what was wrong, understood the crinkle in her forehead and the pursing of her mouth.
‘I… um,’ Amanda hadn’t thought that far ahead. Not really. It was like an unpleasant doctor’s appointment. She knew that it was coming, knew that she’d have to attend, but she’d deal with it all when she got there. To dwell on it before would be to invite unwanted fear and anxiety into her life. And she had more than enough to deal with. ‘Let’s talk about it when we get there.’
Her hair, having dried in the car, was somewhere between straight and curly. Sort of crinkled. Each strand filled with kinks and spirals that seemed disorderly. Amanda pushed her fingers through it, trying to tame it. She didn’t want to appear utterly shambolic when she appeared on Evangeline’s doorstep.
‘She’ll just be glad he’s back,’ Shane reached across the table and let his fingertips graze the back of Amanda’s hand. She barely felt his touch. Taking Ewan home felt too much like letting Will go. He was the only part of her late husband that she had left.
‘Yeah,’ she agreed absently. ‘You’re right.’
*
The following two hours passed by in a blur of traffic. Amanda watched the cars speeding by, the sunlight glimmering against their rooftops like they were fish in a stream. Twice she attempted to play I Spy with Ewan but her suggestions were half-hearted. Not that the little boy noticed. She played with his usual level of enthusiasm. He was so resilient for someone so young. It was only in his sleep that Amanda glimpsed the shadow which had settled over him. He would twitch and kick, his face twisting in despair as his breathing quickened. It would last for just a few moments and then the nightmare would release him.
Amanda hoped the dream would fade as time went on. She knew too well the horror of being haunted by trauma in your sleep.
Their arrival in Glasgow came around lunchtime. A blue sky was peppered with puffs of white clouds as the sun beat down on the car park which Amanda now knew all too well. Shane pulled up in an empty corner and killed the engine. He didn’t say anything. Like Amanda, his attention was immediately drawn to the hectic scene across from them, where police cars and an ambulance were clustered together, taking up a number of parking spaces.
As soon as Amanda saw the neon stripes of the police vehicles, her stomach plummeted to her feet. It didn’t take a genius to hazard a guess as to why they were there. Evangeline had clearly called the police, of course she had, any mother in her right mind would have done the same thing. Will had been wrong to assume she’d know it was him who’d taken her son. She was probably pacing around her flat at that moment, head in her hands as she wept for the boy, wondering where he could be and praying that he was alive.
‘Oh God,’ Amanda uttered as she took in the array of official vehicles, their blue lights blinking.
‘Okay, okay,’ Shane was stiffening in his seat, anxiously smoothing out the creases in his top. ‘We just need to get our stories straight.’ He lifted his hands to tidy his hair and as he flipped down his visor and glanced into its little mirror he froze.
‘What is it?’ Amanda was gripping the sides of the passenger seat in front of her.
‘Ooh, police,’ Ewan was up and peering excitedly through his window.
‘The police I get,’ Shane slowly turned around to look at her. Dark shadows had gathered beneath his eyes making his expression appear more severe than it usually would. ‘A kid goes missing, you call in the cops. A patrol car shows up. Maybe two. But the ambulance,’ he threw a furtive glance towards the gathered emergency vehicles. ‘And there’s a first responder there. Why the need for paramedics?’
‘You think they’re not here for us?’ Amanda wondered cautiously. It felt too good to be true. The police had to be there for them, waiting to cart them away in handcuffs. Perhaps they’d already found Will out in the woodlands.
‘Maybe not,’ Shane nervously cleared his throat. ‘Let me go out and investigate. I’ll get a read on the situation and come straight back.’
‘What… wait,’ Amanda’s body tightened. She didn’t want Shane to go. Didn’t want another man she cared for to leave her side and possibly not return. But he was already stepping out into the morning sunshine, remembering that he himself was a cop and pushing back his shoulders and confidently striding towards the block of flats in which Evangeline lived.
‘Aww, can we go too?’ Ewan pleaded, scrambling to undo his seat belt. He unlocked it and then came to sit on Amanda’s lap which gave him a better vantage point to look out at all the cars. He seemed entranced by the cars, but Amanda sensed that he wanted closeness, safety, that the shadow of fear still covered his every move. Whilst Ewan gazed in wonderment at the cars and their flashing lights and bright stripes, Amanda looked towards the block of flats. Shane hadn’t been able to go all the way in. There were uniformed police blocking the entrance, along with bright yellow tape criss-crossed over the main door. Shane was now chatting to the police, nodding his head as they engaged him. Amanda watched, holding a breath in her chest. Gestures were made with arms. More nodding. More gestures. But no one was pointing at Shane and shouting. No one was approaching him with handcuffs, telling him that he had a right to remain silent.
‘Mummy doesn’t like it when the police are here,’ Ewan said as he squirmed in Amanda’s lap, trying to get a better view of what was going on outside.
‘I can imagine she doesn’t.’
‘But I do,’ Ewan declared brightly. ‘I usually sit up in my room and watch them, but it’s way better down here. Do you think they’ll let me sit in one of their cars?’
‘Maybe,’ Amanda replied tightly. ‘Let’s wait for Shane to come back and see what he says.’
She didn’t have to wait long. With his entrance into the flats barred, Shane was striding back towards the car, still possessing the stance of a man who belonged, of a man who wasn’t currently crippled by nerves.
When he reached the car he didn’t climb back in. Instead he opened Amanda’s door and stared down at her.
‘We need to have a word.’
>
‘Oh.’ Amanda coughed, trying to dislodge the lump which had suddenly formed in her throat. Shane’s body language screamed that something was wrong. His shoulders were too high, his jaw clenched like he was holding something in. Something awful. ‘Sweetie, can you just wait here a second?’
‘Awww,’ Ewan protested as she lifted him from her lap and placed him back on his side of the car. ‘But I want to see the cars and Mummy. Can I see Mummy now?’
‘You can in a minute if you sit nice and still like a good boy.’ Amanda was smiling brightly at him as she backed out of the car, but the second she turned to face Shane the smile died on her lips. ‘Well, what is it?’
‘I spoke to the cops over by the door,’ Shane jerked his head back in their direction.
‘And?’
‘They are here for Evangeline.’
Amanda reached for the car to steady herself. So this was it. They were about to be arrested and Shane was somehow managing to put on a brave face. She wouldn’t be nearly as composed. Already she could feel her bones shaking, trying to send sorrowful shudders throughout her entire body.
‘But it’s not like that,’ Shane grabbed her upper arm and drew closer to her, lowering his voice. ‘She didn’t call them.’
‘Then who did?’
A sad sigh left Shane. ‘The neighbour who found her.’
‘What?’
‘The cops said it looked like she OD’d.’
‘Wait… what…’ Amanda felt dizzy. This couldn’t be happening. ‘So where is she? Is she at the hospital? Then let’s go.’
‘Amanda,’ Shane gave her arm a squeeze and said her name so softly, too softly.
‘No,’ she gasped as tears fogged her vision. ‘No.’
‘The cops said she was DOA. There’s no sign of foul play so they are treating it as an accidental death. They’ll be leaving the scene within the hour.’
Shane massaged his temple.
‘It really doesn’t add up to me. There’s definitely something strange going on, but the cops won’t let me near the place, I have no jurisdiction up here.’
‘She’s…’ Amanda rubbed furiously at her eyes as the tears kept coming. ‘No, that can’t be. What about?’ she glanced down into the car where Ewan was pressed against the other window, watching the gathered emergency vehicles with fascination. He didn’t know they were there for his beloved mother, or that Evangeline was just a few feet away zipped within black plastic on a stiff metal gurney. Fate had just dealt the boy an unbelievably cruel hand. He was now deprived of not one parent but two.
‘Really we need to hand him over to the authorities.’
‘But he doesn’t have anyone,’ Amanda rasped the words as she teetered on the verge of hysterical tears.
‘I know but—’
‘And what if it wasn’t an overdose?’ the thought came suddenly to Amanda, desperate and dangerous. She dropped her voice to a fierce whisper. ‘What if someone broke in and did that to her?’
She expected Shane to rebuke such a suggestion, but instead the shadows over his face darkened as he bowed his head towards hers. ‘It’s possible,’ he agreed, his voice flat and monotone. ‘I’ve seen this kind of thing before. Maybe McAllister did have a hand in it. Maybe he’s trying to draw Jake out, maybe he doesn’t yet know…’ his voice trailed off.
‘And that means we can’t just enter Ewan into the system and hope for the best! McAllister might still be hunting him. And once he does find out what happened back in those woods and might want revenge and—’
‘Amanda, I know but—’
‘He’s lost both his parents.’ Something between rage and grief was coursing through her body, intensifying her tears and making her limbs shake. ‘We’re all he’s got, Shane.’
‘Okay, dammit, I know.’ Stepping back, Shane racked his hands through his hair. ‘But what then? What are we supposed to do?’
Amanda looked around at the gathered police cars, at the ambulance, at the blue sky above. This was Will’s world, not hers. But her husband was gone. She’d held true to the vow she’d made for him during their modest ceremony.
Till death do us part.
But Will had left her an enduring legacy. It currently sat watching the drama unfold on the car park. Ewan had his father’s dark hair and his mother’s brilliant green eyes. He was an orphan, a victim in a very dangerous adult game of cat and mouse. Amanda wasn’t prepared to let Ewan or Will down.
‘We take him with us.’
Shane blinked and looked at Amanda as though she’d lost what little of her mind she was still holding onto.
‘What? We can’t!’
‘Yes, we can,’ Amanda stated confidently. Her brain was already piecing together the elements of a plan. ‘We take him back with us. We’ll figure something out when we get back.’
Shane paced away from the car and then turned on his heel and stormed back towards her. ‘This is madness, you know that right? And dangerous. This is so, so fucking dangerous.’
‘He’s just a little boy. I can’t leave him alone in this world.’
‘Argh, Jesus Christ, Amanda.’
‘All you have to do is take us back. Take us back home. After that this isn’t your problem anymore.’
‘No.’
‘Shane, just—’
‘I mean, this is my problem. I’ll be there for you. For both of you. So long as you’re sure this is what you want to do?’
Amanda looked up, felt the warmth of the sun on her face. Somehow the world kept turning even though Will was gone. She needed to adapt, needed to be strong.
‘It’s what Will wanted,’ she concluded resolutely. ‘We’re going to honour his final wish. We’re going to keep Ewan safe. I’ll protect him with my life if I have to.’
'I won't let it come to that,’ Shane was at her side, protectively wrapping one arm around her shoulders.
Amanda lowered her gaze and stared towards the horizon. ‘You might not have a choice.’
We hope you enjoyed this book!
Carys Jones’ next novel is coming in spring 2017
More addictive fiction from Aria:
Find out more
Find out more
Find out more
For more information, click the following links
Acknowledgements
About Carys Jones
Become an Aria Addict
Acknowledgements
Firstly I need to thank the amazing team at Aria, especially Caroline Ridding and Sarah Ritherdon. Their guidance helped me turn Wrong Number into the story it is today and I’m so grateful for their continued support.
I also need to thank my friends and family for always being so patient with me and indulging my strange quirks thus enabling me to be the kind of person who lives inside my own imagination most of the time.
Rollo. You don’t do much – you just sit and stare at me with your chestnut eyes and keep my feet warm when you lie against them. But you’ve been there for every sentence, every rewrite. Writing can be lonely at times, thank you for sticking with me for the long haul.
And finally to you, dear reader, I offer my heartfelt thanks. You’re the reason I do this – I write my stories in the hope that they will be read.
About Carys Jones
CARYS JONES loves nothing more than to write and create stories which ignite the reader's imagination. Based in Shropshire, England, Carys lives with her husband, two guinea pigs and her adored canine companion Rollo.
Find me on Twitter
Find me on Facebook
Visit my website
Become an Aria Addict
Aria is the new digital-first fiction imprint from Head of Zeus.
It’s Aria’s ambition to discover and publish tomorrow’s superstars, targeting fiction addicts and readers keen to discover new and exciting authors.
Aria will publish a variety of genres under the commercial fiction umbrella such as women’s fiction, crime, thrillers, historical fiction, saga an
d erotica.
So, whether you’re a budding writer looking for a publisher or an avid reader looking for something to escape with – Aria will have something for you.
Get in touch: [email protected]
Become an Aria Addict
Find us on Twitter
Find us on Facebook
Find us on BookGrail
Addictive Fiction
First published in the UK in 2016 by Aria, an imprint of Head of Zeus Ltd
Copyright © Carys Jones, 2016
The moral right of Carys Jones to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act of 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
9 7 5 3 1 2 4 6 8
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN (E) 9781786692481
Aria
Clerkenwell House
45-47 Clerkenwell Green
London EC1R 0HT
www.ariafiction.com