Behind the Lie

by Amanda James

  Rage fuels my words. ‘You see what you did as a fucking game, having an affair behind my back with some cheap tart?’ I stand up and he takes one step forward, puts the flat of his hand on my chest and pushes me down hard onto the bed again.

  ‘Stand up once more and I’ll make sure it’s the last time you do.’ Simon’s voice is quiet, yet the menace in it brings bile to my throat. I put a shaking hand to my mouth and he leans back against the door again. ‘Yes, a great player – poker should have been your choice of game. But it’s over now. You were never a match for me really. Not in the end.’

  Those words grab my heart and squeeze. Surely he doesn’t mean to…? It’s three-thirty. Come on, Jowan! I must keep calm…’ How do you mean?’

  ‘Well, I guessed you’d come the day before, or even after, the one we’d agreed on, so I took the week off to be sure. Told the receptionist to say I was at work if you called. Messaged her this morning to say when I was supposed to be operating, just in case you were cleverer than I thought and called the clinic. And you were cleverer, weren’t you, my love? Brittany texted me after you’d called. Oh, I told her it was all to do with surprising you, just like I told your stupid mother.’

  His depth of planning terrifies me. I glance at the clock. Where is Jowan? I know the answer to my next question, but I have to keep him talking. That’s what they do on the movies, right? ‘But… but why?’

  ‘Because I needed your mother not to contact you. I knew you’d realise something was up if she asked you why you pretended to me that she’d had a bad back. I couldn’t be sure she’d do as I asked though; that’s why I made the shit up about coming to Cornwall. If she did tell you, then at least you might have fallen for it… Believed you’d pulled the wool over my eyes so much that I was bringing you a ring to show the extent of my adoration. Seems she stuck to her word until today though, judging by the phone call I listened to just now.’

  My heart plummets. ‘You heard that?’

  ‘Yes, I stood and listened at the door.’

  But then he must have heard me talk about the children… heard me mention Ruan! But he can’t have or… I swallow, take deep breaths… just keep him talking. ‘I… I thought you’d just arrived…’

  ‘Good God, no. I’ve been here all the time. I had to make sure I didn’t miss you.’ Simon laughs and this time it is genuine. He seems so very pleased with himself. His eyes look blank…cold like a shark’s.

  He’s mad. Stark raving mad…

  ‘So was that you I heard in the bathroom?’

  ‘Yep.’ He rolls his eyes. ‘That was so clumsy of me with that sodding shower gel. But I was just finishing having a pee when I heard your key in the lock, so I jumped in the shower. Then, once you’d come into the apartment, I realised it was a daft place to hide as you might come in to collect some of your many products, so I nipped into the spare-room wardrobe for a bit.’

  ‘H… how could you be so sure I’d come at all?’

  ‘I couldn’t be.’ He shrugs and picks up the letter from the floor. But I had to be ready if you did. Even parked my car round the corner in old Kevin Lancaster’s space, so you wouldn’t see it. Paid him shedloads too, for the privilege. You see, I think of everything, don’t I?’

  Yes… it seems he does, unfortunately for me. He doesn’t know about Jowan though… I see that it is now three-thirty-five. Where the fuck is he? Realisation dawns that he might not come for a while for whatever reason, God knows what that could be; perhaps he’s gone for a pee, anything… he might ring in a minute to tell me why he’s late. My phone is inches away from my hand on the bed. I try to think of something to say while I try to slide the phone under my hand.

  Simon comes to sit next to me on the bed. I move along it and he laughs. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not going to try anything on. Tell me, how did you find out that our boy was alive? I’m intrigued.’

  My mouth drops open and my heart leaps into my throat. I can’t get my breath! A tremor runs through me. NO! NO! No… no, my ears must be deceiving me. I’m so scared of what he might do I must be imaging it. ‘W… what?’

  ‘You heard fine. That’s what I meant when I said you were good player.’ Simon smiles and folds his arms. ‘I originally thought you’d found out about my affair the day I phoned your mother, so imagine my shock when a neighbour of Mark was kind enough to drop a few hints about the boy. It seemed inconceivable that you had found out, and until I heard you on the phone just now, I wasn’t absolutely sure… I would have got it out of you anyway, but it was nice to just get the information I needed without any fuss.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’ My brain won’t work… my reactions feel slowed down, as if I’m waking from a deep sleep. This does not make sense. ‘You knew he was alive before I did, that Mark had him? But how, and why didn’t you tell me!?’

  Simon turns his mouth down at the corners and shakes his head. ‘Oh dear. You really aren’t as clever as I thought after all. You don’t get it, do you? Now I asked you a question. How did you find the boy was alive and trace him to Mark?’

  He is right. I don’t get it, but I think I’m beginning to… and what I am imagining is too terrible to contemplate… I need help and fast. ‘The “boy” is called Ruan. Don’t you remember?’ I say and twist my body to him slightly while I inch my hand in the direction of the phone.

  ‘Yes. I remember. Now tell me.’ His grey eyes ice over – they’ve lost any trace of humour. He’s clenching his jaw. A sure sign that he’s ready to lose it.

  I tell him about Isadora, turning up at Angela’s and how she came to believe me, but that’s all. I don’t want to give Yvonne away.

  ‘I see. It was Isadora that helped me too. My goodness, you are a bit of a sleuth and to do it all alone.’ Suddenly his hand flies out and he grabs my chin between his thumb and forefinger, turns my face towards him. It hurts but I won’t let him see that it does. ‘You are all alone in this, aren’t you?’

  I slap his hand away. ‘Of course I am. Who would believe such a wild story, that my baby was still alive? Not even Demi believed me and I daren’t tell Mum.’

  ‘Hmm. But you’re not telling me the half of it. You told me how you traced him to Mark, but how did you know he wasn’t dead and that Mark was involved in the first place? Just tell me what you know.’

  I look down at the space between us on the bed. I need to think fast to avoid dropping Yvonne in it. My chin is throbbing, which helps my plan. He could never cope with me losing it emotionally.

  My lip trembles as I open the flood gates. Raw emotion breaks from its chains and I sob, ‘Please tell me you weren’t involved… please, Simon.’

  He heaves a deep sigh. ‘I can’t do that, I’m afraid… I’ve been involved from the beginning. I gave our boy to Mark.’

  His words seem to hang in the air between us. They won’t go in. This is impossible. When he said I didn’t get it, I had an inkling, but my God, I hadn’t really believed it… It was unthinkable. He. Actually. Gave. Our. Son. Away? But it made no sense. ‘Why, Simon? Why did you give our boy to Mark? Was he blackmailing you?’ Tears pour down my face and I realise I am on the edge of really losing it. Whatever the answer, I need to hang on to control. If he is capable of that there really is no telling what he might do… and I need that phone.

  Simon screws his face up and the letter into a ball and places it in his pocket. At first he looks like he’s going to cry too but then he sighs and shoves his hands through his dark curls. ‘Blackmail? Um… well, yes, kind of. He did leave me no choice… so in that way he made me do it. I was vulnerable and he knew it. It was a very unfortunate incident.’ He turns his mouth down at the corners again like some vile clown and looks at me.

  ‘An unfortunate fucking incident?’ I give him an incredulous look, shake my head.

  ‘Believe me, love, I only did it because I was desperate.’ I feel his hand on my shoulder and cringe inwardly but don’t move. ‘I hated myself for what I did�
�� but it worked out for the best in the end. You see, I’d lost everything at the casino.’ He spreads his hands. ‘I mean everything. Losing is something I won’t… no, cannot allow. Mark was there, calmed me down. The next day he phoned me. He asked if I’d do anything to put things right, even give him my firstborn. I thought he was joking at first. Turns out he wasn’t. Mark wanted a child; we had two… so we did a deal. A two-million-pound deal…’ His voice tails off and he can’t meet my eyes.

  My mouth falls open and shock stops my words. No fucking wonder he can’t look at me! My mind is finding it so hard to process this. He sold our son… he sold our son… HE SOLD OUR SON! When I speak my voice is a flat monotone. ‘I… I can’t believe it… you sold our son… to the Jensons…’

  ‘Hey. That’s not fair!’ Simon punched the bed, his voice barely concealing his rage. ‘I was helping you really – you were on the edge of depression again and I was worried that having two babies to care for would tip you…’

  ‘I was perfectly fine until you told me our son was too small, might not be strong enough and then that he struggled to take his first breath! And what about the photo of him you showed me? That had to be someone else’s poor baby, I suppose?

  ‘Yes, it was,’ Simon says with a little shrug. ‘It was quite fortuitous actually. A baby died at the clinic a few weeks before, and so I took a photo. I knew what the plan was by then and that photo was a nice touch – made it seem so real that Ruan had…’

  ‘You evil fucking bastard!’ I yell and raise my fist, but his hand’s a blur. A fire shoots through my cheek and my head spins under the force of his slap. I fall on my side on the bed sobbing. Then I realise the phone is under my ribs and I shove my arm underneath me and slip my fingers around it. I hope it’s not upside down as I try to figure out where the number nine is. Three little pushes, that’s all it takes. Then his arm goes under my belly and he yanks me into a sitting position.

  He puts his lips to my ear and I shudder. ‘I thought we’d established that you are no match for me. Give me the phone, Holly, or I’ll break your arm.’

  The ice in his voice chills my blood and I know there is no point holding on to it. I hand it over and he tosses it into a corner of the room. I try to hold back my sobs but they are an unstoppable torrent. There’s a look in his eye that I haven’t seen before. Worse than a shark’s now. It’s as if he’s detached, devoid of emotion. I have to keep him talking. Must.

  Through my tears I say, ‘How… how did you do it? Jonathan had to be involved, didn’t he?

  ‘Jonathan?’ he laughs. ‘Good God, no! I got rid of him just after he’d delivered the twins, with an emergency call. That’s why his second in command had to do your stitches. I arranged for a porter to bleep Jonathan to say he was needed downstairs – a senior partner was needed urgently. Same guy sent a medic to call me outside the room. Slipped this porter a fifty-pound note, told him to keep his mouth shut. I couldn’t have Jonathan popping down the corridor to see how little Ruan was doing, could I? He was surprised and very upset when I told him that our boy had died. Jonathan said, although he was definitely on the small side, he thought he’d looked healthy enough from the short glance he’d had at him before he’d been called away. I told him that his lungs were the problem; he struggled to breathe and died before we could get him in a ventilator and that these things happen… and they do, of course. Jonathan accepted that, had to. Why would he doubt me?’

  The fact that he’s proud of himself makes me choke on a sob. There must be someone else involved – the guy that paid off Yvonne?

  ‘You need to stop that noise now.’ He grabs a handful of tissues from the side table and shoves them at me. ‘Dry your eyes. We need to talk calmly.’

  ‘But the nurse that took him for checks… surely she would have suspected some…’

  ‘I paid the nurse off too; she helped me. Whisked him out of there fast before any of the operating team had a good enough look at him, and crucially before he cried… though he did give out a bit of a whimper… I think?’ He stops, looks up to the left as if he’s recalling something normal, everyday, a story about what the weather was like last week.

  So I was right. I knew I’d heard another cry. Bless my boy. It was as if he’d been trying to tell me what was happening. I close my eyes on more tears, try to concentrate on what he’s saying…

  ‘Anyway, the team were told to expect that he’d be taken out, him being small and all. And it was much more than fifty pounds I paid the nurse, I can tell you.’ Simon twists his mouth to the side. Then he shrugs. ‘Had to be done though. It’s nice that you thought I was innocent in it all. I really wish I could have been.’

  There’s a silent scream inside my head. He paid Yvonne. Simon did. He was the person she daren’t name! But if it was just Simon behind the whole thing all the time… why didn’t Yvonne tell me? The answer comes back immediately. How did she know that I wouldn’t crack and tell my husband everything? Drop her and her daughter right in it? My God, what a nightmare… the facts that he wasn’t being blackmailed, did it all by himself, sold our son, showed me a photo of a dead baby, sprinkled fake ashes, said he’d organised a funeral, are all there in front of me, but so hard to swallow. How could the man who loved me, who I thought the world of in the early days, turn into such a monster? There’s ice in my blood, my whole body is trembling.

  ‘Anyway, that’s all done now. I said we need to talk calmly, my love,’ he says and traces a finger down my cheek, scrapes a teardrop and licks it off.

  I consider running and then know it will do no good. Surely Jowan will be here any minute? I do as he asks; blow my nose for good measure. Look at him expectantly – anything to keep him calm. ‘Talk about what?’ I say.

  ‘What happens next. I know you have been through hell because of… well, what happened. But we have a choice to make. I can end the affair with my lovely lady. We can go forward together and try to make a life as a family, or we can part. If we part, I’ll divorce you of course, and you won’t get a penny of my money. The kids will suffer obviously, as you’ll have to get some kind of a job.’ He shrugs and slips an arm over my shoulder; his hand brushes my breast and I want to scream. Then he kisses my hair. ‘Your choice, love.’

  Realisation dawns that he actually must be mentally unstable – insane. Has to be if he thinks we can just start again after what he’s done. My skin is crawling at his nearness and I look desperately at the clock. Three-forty-five. His other hand strokes my leg, and inside my head a silent scream starts up again. I’m trembling and nausea waves through me. I might vomit. Then a small voice grows louder until it’s louder than the screaming, and it yells over and over – Survival. Survival. I take a deep breath and say, ‘Perhaps we could try again… for the sake of the children at least. It will take me a while to trust you again… but…’

  ‘Oh, Holly. Thank God! This is beyond my wildest dreams…’ The arm draped over my shoulder comes up under my neck and he pulls my head tight against his. I can smell sour sweat on his skin and a whiff of alcohol on his breath. Then his voice goes from excited to calm. ‘But then I know you’d say anything at the moment. No. I don’t think so. I wouldn’t have you back in a million years. You see, Lauren, the woman that I’m having an affair with, is your replacement. It’s time for you to go, you lying, conniving little bitch!’

  His words send shockwaves through me, but I’m too late. I try to fight, but his thumb is at the base of my Adam’s apple, in my windpipe, and there’s a pressure at the side of my neck… it grows dark and I’m falling.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Jowan woke to the sound of a car alarm. He’d been dreaming of Afghanistan again and the alarm had inserted itself into a training session. He’d been running through the desert, a heavy pack on his back, sweat stinging his eyes, thighs burning, and his heart hammering in his chest. He’d felt like a trapped animal, desperate – the alarm had terrified him, what did it mean? Was he about to die in a
bomb just like his friends? But he wasn’t in the marketplace, was he? He was training in the desert. Everything had become muddled, mixed up together, slowed down, and then his eyes had flown open.

  Relief at finding himself in the dark concrete underground car park didn’t last long as he looked at his watch. Three-fifty. Fuck! The alert hadn’t gone off on his phone for some reason. He couldn’t have set it properly. Jowan scrabbled in his pocket for his phone and punched in his security code. Nothing from Holly. Perhaps she’d lost track of time. Nevertheless, he felt such a letdown. Through the windscreen he saw a young woman hurry to the screaming car and suddenly there was quiet. He glanced at Holly’s designated parking space. Empty. Well, that was something.

  Jowan rubbed sleep from his eyes and called Holly. It rang out – went to voicemail. That wasn’t like her. He decided not to leave a message, but jumped out of the car and hurried to the lift. Outside the apartment Jowan noticed that the door was open a fraction. Why would Holly have forgotten to lock it, given she was so scared of Simon finding her? About to just stroll in, he thought twice. Maybe it was his army training, but he decided to err on the cautious side.

  The fall of his feet made no sound as he crept down the hallway to the living room. Nothing. The kitchen was empty too. Then he heard muted voices. Head on one side he thought one was Holly’s, but he couldn’t make out her words. The other was male. Jowan crept back into the hall and, back to the wall, he made his way to the master bedroom. The door was open slightly and he held his breath, listened.

  ‘Because I can’t trust you to be quiet. Yes, I know you just said that you don’t care about seeing me banged up and all you want is a quiet life, but that’s not good enough for me,’ the male voice said.

  ‘Why would I do otherwise, Simon? I just want an end to it. I have my babies, friends, family…’ Holly said. Jowan thought she sounded fairly calm, but he could detect a tremor in her voice. What now? Burst in, take Simon on? His instinct told him to wait a moment.