A cloud of anguish crossed his face, and it was impossible not to feel a little sympathy. I had long picked up a vein of secrecy from what Sarah had divulged, but everything was starting to click now; a defenceless boy hauled up to Scotland, cut off from everyone he had ever known.
The silence hung heavy as we absorbed everything we had told and heard. Lost in my musings, I was aware of a buzz of activity in the background, the clatter of plates, a chime of glasses emanating from the bar as waiters delivered food and cocktails. It left me wondering if we should order something, though no one seemed to be rushing us.
Before I had a chance to say another word, though, I detected movement from above. Joe turned to the stairs and erupting from his seat, waved wildly.
“Jess! Over here!”
Sam followed his gaze as she sashayed over to our table, and how her dazzling smile lifted the gloom like a lantern!
“You’re never gonna believe this,” Joe grinned, “but we’ve found Sam!”
Jess’s eyes widened in wonderment. “Wow! How cool is that? So you’re the boy at the heart of this mystery?”
He eyed her with quiet curiosity, a smile playing around his lips. But with laughter drawn into our conversation at last, I shuffled across to make room for her.
She’d want to sit opposite Joe of course, leaving me face to face with Sam.
Not that I minded - for as Sam and I locked eyes, I felt the adoration behind his smile. It allowed me to temporarily forget our turmoil.
Joe ordered more wine. We mutually agreed on a Sauvignon Blanc, although with a thirty-pound price tag, it didn’t come cheap.
“I’ll pay,” Joe insisted. “You’ll have a glass, won’t you, Jess?”
“Thanks, sweetie, but I’m driving us home, don’t forget. I wouldn’t say no to a Mojito though, with plenty of ice please. Just the one.”
“We can always go halves, Joe,” I burst in but he raised his hand in protest.
“No, I’ll get it! It’s the least I can do if Sam’s treating us.”
The flash in his eye brooked no argument, and finally the penny dropped. Joe wasn’t out to impress me or Jess. Just Sam. Sam with his fashionable clothes and meticulously styled hair, Sam who exuded status.
“Okay,” I relented. “If you insist.”
“I suppose we should order some grub too,” Sam added, “and no skimping, choose whatever you like.”
Scrutinising the menu, we found the choice so overwhelming, he suggested sharing a combo of mixed dishes. Everything sounded scrumptious.
“What happened at the police station then?” Jess leapt in.
“They wanted to go over our statements again,” Joe said, “except neither of us expected him to turn up...” His eyes flickered in Sam’s direction. “Sorry if I seem on edge, mate, but seeing you is a bit of a head fuck.”
“So where have you been all these years?” Jess asked with intrigue.
Sam showed no hesitation in giving a potted history, including his eventual escape from the isolation of Scotland. With a hankering to visit his mum’s grave, he was unavoidably drawn back to London – but here in London he had been recruited by an estate agent, starting out as a general dogsbody.
“To think,” I commented, “all those years and you were that close.”
“I’m glad I stuck with the profession,” he added. “I’m a partner in my own firm now.”
Joe clung to every word, his face alight with curiosity, and Sam seemed just as curious to know about our lives.
Gradually the conversation shifted. Plates of succulent giant shrimp, barbecued ribs and chicken were lowered onto the table, alongside a side dish of lobster mac and cheese. All came with coleslaw, salad and chips. My mouth watered as Joe filled up my wine glass with Sauvignon Blanc, but I hid my smile. No one seemed to have noticed him sneakily ordering from the bar, so he could settle with cash.
“So you all live in Bognor?” Sam mused. “Must be nice to be close to the sea. Any chance I could come and visit you some time?”
“Absolutely,” I breathed, with more joy than intended.
His hand lowered to the table and I felt the featherlight brush of his fingertips against my own. Maybe I had drunk a little more wine than I should have, but the effect was quite pleasurable.
“That would be awesome,” Sam nodded, “I guess we’ll be in touch anyway, with regard to the investigation.”
“Come down and visit us soon then,” Joe kept grinning, “spend a day on our turf and we’ll talk some more.”
Chapter Forty-Five
Of all the visitors who passed through the gates of Wandsworth Prison, none stuck out quite like the two middle-aged ladies who had braved the journey to see Thomas.
With her loosely coiled-up blonde hair and pastel tweed suit, Cecelia held her back straight, refusing to cower under the scrutiny of the other women. The smirks and the sneers had unnerved her at first, the occasional spitting insult - but if they were hoping to get a rise out of her, they would be woefully disappointed.
For deep in her heart Cecelia knew her brother was innocent.
“This way please, ladies!”
Davina glanced up at the uniformed prison guard. She, on the other hand, did not look so confident. A fragile brunette in her fifties, her beauty had evoked even greater scorn. Today her perfectly painted lips trembled, and next to Cecelia, the poor lamb looked petrified. As Thomas’s long term mistress, it hadn’t taken long for the media to transform her into a figure of hate.
Looping her arm through Davina’s, Cecelia led the way. The stench of disinfectant clawed the back of her throat, the clang of metal doors setting her teeth on edge. Yet nothing stirred more horror than the ghost of the man who awaited them.
“Thomas,” Davina sobbed and breaking away from Cecelia, she stumbled towards his table. “Oh dear God, what’s going on?”
“Hello, darling,” he greeted her in a weak voice. “Sit down, both of you. It’s kind of you to come and visit me.”
His deeply brooding blue eyes welled up, spiking her with dread.
“How are you?” she whispered. “I mean, what are you even doing here?”
He suppressed a sob. “They think I’m in league with Cornelius Mortimer, as confirmed by this latest witness - but Cornelius has not yet been arrested.”
She exhaled a despairing sigh. “Oh, Thomas! If you don’t mind me saying so, you look terrible. I hope they’re treating you well in here.”
“Yes, but I have to be kept in solitary,” he croaked. “Considering the crimes I’m accused of, you must surely realise the implications. Even among criminals, there is no worse beast than a child molester.”
“But you haven’t done anything of the sort!” Davina spluttered.
Cecelia placed a comforting hand on her own. “Shh, dear, calm down.”
Gazing at Thomas, she inclined her head. Being on the remand wing, he was permitted to wear his own clothes, but the cut of his Savile Row suit appeared baggy on him, his face pale and gaunt.
“How anyone could accuse you of something so monstrous I will never know,” she breathed, “and as for this latest story...”
“I was nowhere near that forest,” Thomas shuddered. “I-I have never in my life been associated with any of Cornelius’s parties, b-but to imply I was involved in something so sick as a satanic ritual involving children... that I threatened a boy with a dagger... These are foul, wicked lies.”
“But who on earth would accuse you of such things?” Cecelia pressed. “Have you made any enemies recently?”
“I don’t know,” Thomas said. His voice betrayed a crack and before they could say another word, he started crying.
Cecelia’s heart pounded. With everything out in the open, there was no question of turning their backs on him.
It wasn’t as if they hadn’t all been affected.
As a close family member, Cecelia, like Davina, had been targeted too; from malicious threats in the post to eggs flung at her windows.
>
“This is terrible,” Davina whimpered. “What are we going to do?”
“I’m going to talk to David again,” she murmured in a low voice. “The three of us must surely know enough people who can vouch for your good character. Ask your solicitor if he can pin-point the date of this alleged party. We need to check our diaries. Talk to our friends. Find out where you were on the night in question. That is, if you were even in the country.”
“Try not to worry,” Davina added, a little more gently. “We used to travel a lot in the nineties, remember? I’m convinced we’ll find you an alibi.”
He raised his eyes, a bundle of desolation. The tears on his face left glistening trails but studying him now, Cecelia began to fear he might be suicidal, and if he was, who could blame him? Whatever else happened, she yearned to clear him of these crimes before their lives were destroyed forever.
“And what of my accusers?” Thomas sniffed. “Do you have any idea who these ‘children’ are?” Pulling a handkerchief from his top pocket, he blew his nose.
“The police have refused to name the victims,” she muttered, “but I can ask David to probe into this. You know my husband, he’s a good barrister.”
Braced in his chair like a condemned man, Thomas wiped away his tears, took a number of slow deep breaths and forced his head upright.
“Are you honestly prepared to do that for me?” he asked.
“I said I’d try, didn’t I?” She gave a cool smile.
“Liars and fantasists, the lot of them,” he spat, “and if it’s possible to prove my innocence, I will fight this to the bitter end...”
Cecelia watched mesmerised, as his expression turned to stone.
“I want the whole world to know this entire charade was a set-up. And whoever is responsible will pay dearly for what they have done to me.”
Chapter Forty-Six
Staring ahead blankly as Jess turned into our avenue, I had barely noticed we were nearly home. It was a dark, clear night, and the stars made sharp pinpoints of light in the sky, yet on the edge of my mind flickered Sam’s face.
“Well,” Joe said at last, “some day this turned out to be.”
“I’m still trying to get my head around it,” I mumbled. “I never imagined he would just turn up like that...”
“Back from the dead, eh?” Jess teased. “Amazing how things pan out.”
Switching off the engine, I saw her catch Joe’s eye in the rear view mirror.
“Cheers for driving,” he said warmly. “Fancy coming in for a nightcap?”
She stifled a yawn. “No thanks. I’d best be heading home, I could do with an early night, but let’s hook up again tomorrow.”
“See you soon, Jess,” I added, and sliding out of the front passenger seat, I made myself discreet.
Joe hung back, shuffling into the seat I had vacated. It seemed obvious they wouldn’t want to be parted without a kiss first, so I unlocked the door to the house and left them to it. Blinded by the blaze of light in the hallway, I dragged my weary limbs forward.
All I craved now was a cup of tea.
But before I had a chance to gather my thoughts, I noticed the light flashing on my answering machine. I nibbled my lip. Without knowing why, a prick of anxiety sharpened my senses.
“Hi, Maisie, I hope everything’s okay with you, but can you call me as soon as you get a chance?”
“Sarah!” I gasped to myself.
Something was wrong. I could hear it in her voice, a note of fear I did not like. So without delay, I dialled her number.
“Hi,” I blurted. “Is everything alright? You left a message. In fact, I’ve only just switched my mobile back on and saw two more missed calls.”
Joe lingered in the background. Having finally extracted himself from Jess’s embrace, he had taken over the task of tea making.
“Thanks for calling back,” Sarah whispered, “but before I say another word, has Joe received any more abuse on his Twitter account?”
“Not that I know of...” I met his eye across the lounge. “He doesn’t use Twitter so much, since the police proceedings began.”
Joe’s face buckled into a frown.
“Why?” I pressed. “What’s happened?”
“Someone’s threatened me too, but on Facebook Messenger. Keep your interfering nose out of things that do not concern you, otherwise there will be consequences. This is your first warning.”
I clung to the handset, my heart racing.
“Do you want to know what’s really creepy, though? They sent an image of that house I visited in East Grinstead. It looks like it’s been downloaded from Google maps, but that’s not the point. This must have some bearing on me visiting Yvonne Draper, your friend’s social worker.”
“Sam,” I breathed in amazement. Sagging into my chair, I could no longer ignore the irony. “I can’t think what they’d be trying to hide now. Sam’s alive! We’ve found him, or rather he found us. He turned up at Charing Cross Police Station today.”
“Really?” she responded. “That’s great news. Sorry to dampen the mood.”
“Don’t be. We’re just as gobsmacked... but I don’t understand. Can you take a screen shot of this and send it to me? We need to inform the police.”
“I-it is possible, yes,” Sarah shivered, “except there’s worse...”
“What’s going on?” Joe demanded, and lowering two steaming mugs of tea onto the table, he crashed down into the chair opposite.
“Sarah’s been threatened,” I mumbled. “Sorry, what were you saying?”
An uncomfortable silence stretched between us. This, I realised, affected us both, so it made sense for Joe to be listening. Staring at him in trepidation, I flipped the machine to speaker mode.
“An hour later,” Sarah continued, “there was another message, and that one proves they know where I live. They attached a scanned newspaper article. The story of a fire from two decades ago.”
“Oh my God,” I reacted. “Did this happen in Rosebrook?”
“It did,” Sarah croaked, her voice tight with fear. “Whoever sent this knows its significance. I don’t know if Mandy ever told you about the fire at the community centre, but my husband was trapped in the building. He nearly died, Maisie and that’s not the worst. It’s the wording in the message that alarmed me.”
“Go on,” I urged her. “What did it say?”
“Do not contact the police and in case you need another incentive to keep your mouth shut, we know who your foster son is...” She sounded close to tears. “What if Connor’s in danger?”
Joe’s mouth fell open. To think we had made such progress today, and now Sarah’s family was being victimised as a result – it was enough to turn my blood to ice.
“I daren’t involve the law. You can’t imagine the stress this is causing.”
“I can,” I argued, “and I’m sorry I ever involved you, but I don’t get why you’ve been targeted. We spoke to Sam today and he told us everything. There can’t be any more secrets we don’t know...”
“That’s all very well, Maisie, but maybe your enemies don’t realise this. Would you mind putting all this in an email for me?”
“Okay,” I said. “But who is this person, and how did they find you?”
“I accepted a friend request from someone calling themselves ‘Gemma Black.’” A shuddering breath passed through the speaker. “I took a look at her profile, which I now suspect is fake - a nondescript portrait, a couple of posts about tracing a half-brother to hook me in... I didn’t think anything of it.”
“But I never accept requests from people I don’t know,” I whispered.
“It’s different for you. I’m used to strangers approaching me. It’s my job and like I say, she looked harmless, but that was before I got these messages.”
“Oh Sarah,” I murmured, my heart sinking fast. “Is there anything I can do?”
Another sigh resonated from the speaker. “Right now, I could do with a break. Peter and I w
ere thinking of going to Devon for a few days to talk things over... but preferably away from Connor. I don’t want him to be frightened.”
Locking eyes with Joe, I knew what needed to be said.
“Then why doesn’t he come and stay with me for the weekend?”
“I was hoping you’d say that,” she replied, the relief evident in her voice. “Does this mean you’ve completed your course in respite care?”
“I’ve got one more module, which I’ll do this week... and all I have to do is keep an eye on him, right? He can watch TV, read books, he’s got his Nintendo DS. I’ll take him down to the beach again and if it’s low tide we can go fossil hunting.”
“Maisie, that would be great, as long as you keep your guard up. Just one more question. Is your friend, Joe, still lodging with you?”
He met my gaze with a shrug. “Is that a problem?” he whispered. “I can always bunk up with Jess for the weekend. Make some space.”
I gave a silent nod. “Joe doesn’t have to be here, so no worries.”
By the time the call ended, I felt light headed.
Just thank God for Joe’s diplomacy, given the horror of the situation.
“Come on, Maisie,” he added warmly. “It’s the least we can do, and I’m sure Jess’ll be cool about it. Strikes me we owe your friend big time.”
“Thanks,” I nodded back. “I knew you’d understand.”
What I didn’t want to tell him was that in order to allow me to care for a minor, the authorities would want to run checks on him too.
Flopped in an armchair, he had discarded his tie, his shirt splayed open, top buttons undone, exposing little dark wisps of chest hair. Returning his smile, I realised for the first time how happy I was for him, having Jess to fuss over him. Someone who understood his needs, especially at a time like this.
Chapter Forty-Seven
The past was becoming clearer, but the future remained unknown; and Joe in particular, was soon to experience a chain of events that would completely alter his destiny. It began shortly after he had unpacked his overnight bag. Jess was ecstatic to have him to herself for the weekend and in the absence of Maisie, yearned to make their time together extra special. These were the memories he would cherish; a candlelit bath shared in blissful solitude, luxuriating in an ocean of bubbles. As his eyes wandered, he found it hard to contain his smile. She had even positioned a champagne bucket on the side.
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