by John Marrs
‘I don’t understand.’
‘It’s not Richard, per se, who is responding to your touch. It’s his body – his receptors, his pheromones, his nerves, his muscles – recognising the feeling and the presence of its Match, rather than his brain.’
Mandy sank back into her chair, feeling deflated. For a moment, she’d let herself believe that the impossible had happened; that the power of their Match had woken the man she had been destined to spend her life with. But it was just their shared chemistry playing tricks on her.
When Dr Jenkins left the room, she spent another hour or so sitting in silence with Richard, her hands clasped around his, praying that his body might react to hers again. But there wasn’t even as much as a twitch. Then, giving in to defeat for now, she kissed him on the forehead and promised to visit him again.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said to her baby bump, as she made her way out of the building and back towards her car. She felt a twinge inside as the baby shuffled into a different position. Mandy knew the stress of the day was going to get worse before it could get better. After packing her clothes and belongings, she was going to confront Pat and Chloe, then disappear from their world of deceit for good.
Chapter 77
CHRISTOPHER
Amy wound her arm around Christopher’s as they plodded along the bleak, pebbled beach.
The grey skies, howling wind, drizzle and encroaching tide hadn’t put her off suggesting a long walk along Southwold beach back towards Aldeburgh, so they’d donned their thick jumpers and covered up with the matching blue raincoats they’d purchased from a shop in town.
They passed a paddock by the side of the path with three large, black horses sheltering behind a gate under a tree. Christopher remembered when he was a teenager he’d unlocked a similar paddock gate by the side of a busy road, just to see what might happen. He sat by a ditch on the opposite side and didn’t have to wait long as the travellers’ horses in the field bolted to freedom. It was the second one to escape that had collided with a VW Beetle, its head crashing through the driver’s side of the windscreen, killing both of them instantly. Ever since, he’d held a soft spot for horses.
‘Shall we go somewhere for a coffee and warm up?’ Amy asked, and Christopher nodded his head sharply. He despised being cold and he loathed long hikes. Unless they had a dog on a lead or a specific destination to reach, he didn’t see the point of just going for a walk. But he enjoyed spending time with Amy, and, as being outdoors appeared to make her happy, it gave him an equal satisfaction.
They made their way along the beach, past the brightly painted chalets, up a concrete ramp and along a high street framed by clothing boutiques, galleries and fish and chip shops, before choosing a cosy-looking café.
A young woman with wet hair and an irked expression pedalled furiously on an oversized bike to escape the drizzle, and, for a split second, Christopher pondered how she might look if he pushed her under a passing car. He used to fantasise about that kind of thing frequently as he travelled on the London Underground escalators. He’d look at the opposite side of the moving staircase and play ‘fuck’ or ‘kill’ with anonymous female faces, and it almost always resulted in more kills than fucks. However, Christopher hadn’t felt motivated to play since he’d met Amy.
Once inside the café, they sat by the radiator, draped their wet cagoules across it and waited for a member of staff to take their order.
‘I know you’re a posh city boy at heart, but this isn’t too bad, is it?’ said Amy, glancing out the window as the drizzle turned into a downpour and lashed against the glass. ‘Well, apart from the weather.’
‘No, it’s nice,’ Christopher replied, and he meant it. He couldn’t have given two hoots about the town, but he was appreciating her company.
‘It’s good to get out of London sometimes just to get your head together.’
Christopher knew precisely what she meant, although when she’d suggested taking their first weekend away together in her parents’ static holiday home by the coast, he felt something akin to anxiety. With just four women left on his list before he reached his goal of thirty, he didn’t need any further distractions. Distractions meant mistakes, and he’d already risked losing sight of the endgame by falling into a relationship. But his desire to spend an undistracted long weekend away with Amy was greater than his need to reach his target.
Christopher had contemplated finishing prematurely after Number Twenty-Six. At that point, he’d have still accomplished what he’d set out to do: sending a city of 7 million into panic and generating news headlines worldwide. The killings and the faceless madman behind them had fascinated everyone. ‘What are his motives?’ they asked. ‘How is he targeting them?’ ‘Is there a pattern to where they lived?’ ‘What is the significance behind the stencil mark?’
Christopher was the only person able to answer each question and on occasion it stymied him not to be able to do so or to take any credit for it. However, that was the sacrifice that needed to be made for his crimes to become a thing of legend.
‘Can I ask you a question, Chris?’ Amy said, as their whipped cream lattes were placed on the table. She appeared a little nervous.
‘Go ahead,’ he replied, as he arranged the mugs symmetrically. Her abbreviation of his name no longer seemed to bother him. ‘What’s on your mind?’
‘Nothing really,’ she said, and placed her hand upon his in a reassuring manner. ‘Well, I just need to know – and I hate to be that person who brings this up – but where do you see us going? Am I the one? Do you want to settle down with me and do what every other couple does?’ Her cheeks were beginning to redden, which made Christopher smile. She carried on, her words getting faster and faster. ‘I know we’re Matched but is that enough for you? Because if that’s what you want, you’ve not actually told me. I know you’re a bit different from the other guys I’ve been in relationships with, I get that, but sometimes I find you so hard to read.’
Christopher frowned. ‘What do you mean by “different”?’
‘Well, you play your cards pretty close to your chest, don’t you? It’s like there are things going on under the surface that you keep from me and, once upon a time, with other boyfriends, that would have been excuse enough for me to have walked away. I mean, I’m a police officer, for God’s sake. It’s my job to be suspicious even with my nearest and dearest but with you, it’s … it’s different. It’s like whatever you are not telling me doesn’t really matter.’ She paused for a second, and Christopher really hoped she was right, that his secret didn’t really matter. ‘It isn’t something that’s going to change my opinion of you. It’s hard to explain, but rather than making me feel insecure, it has the opposite effect – it makes me trust you more. I trust you to have your secrets and that they won’t hurt me.’
Christopher felt a sudden urge to strip away the layers he’d spent years building and explain everything about who he was and what he’d been doing. He wanted her to know that while people had loved him in the past, he had never known how to accept it until now; how before Amy appeared he was merely living to type, but now the dark side of his nature, which formed so much of who he was, was diluting. And for the first time in his life, he wanted to be completely honest and vulnerable for someone.
He paused and closed his eyes, opening his mouth for the big reveal. But self-preservation prevented his voice from escaping. He reminded himself that if he gave up on his mission now, then for the rest of his life it would become his only regret. A tiny portion of him would resent Amy for coming between him and his killings, and gradually that rancour would grow from a seed into a tree that would eventually block out the light that shone from her. And it scared him what he might do to her if he ever felt himself begrudging her.
‘I want everything that you want,’ he said quietly, and meant it.
Then he stared at the table, afraid to look her in the eye in case she saw straight through him and realised the man she loved had no soul.
JADE
With just two days until she began the next leg of her Australian adventure, Jade was no longer as eager to leave Kevin’s family farm as she had been.
Mark’s kiss had changed everything. Loyalty and common decency had initially kept them apart, but after giving in to their emotions that one time in the pool, they were now making up for lost time, stealing as many moments as they could when nobody was looking. Jade would accompany Mark to town to pick up supplies, holding his hand on the gearstick; their arms would brush up against each other’s at the dining table and she’d assist him herding the cows into the sheds before fixing them up to the milking machinery. Every minute spent with Mark made Jade’s heart threaten to beat its way out of her chest.
He was an addiction she didn’t want to be free of. And the more she had of him, the more she craved.
As she packed her suitcase and prepared herself for her forthcoming solo journey around Australia, the need to be with him was the strongest it had ever been. She felt short of breath when she thought of what the next five weeks might feel like without him nearby, and an ever-growing part of her wanted to stay on the farm.
Then, on Jade’s final night, she decided their kisses, hand-holding and infrequent frissons were no longer enough. She slipped the silver band from her wedding finger and left it on her bedside table, then closed the door to the guesthouse and silently padded towards Mark’s bedroom in the main house. Her hands felt clammy as she reached for the handle and she prayed to God he wasn’t going to reject her advances. But his door was already ajar and, when she pushed it open, she found him lying awake facing her, as if he’d been expecting her to come.
He pulled the sheet to one side to invite her in.
‘Come with me tomorrow,’ Jade whispered afterwards, her body exhausted and her lungs close to breathless.
‘You know I can’t, it’s too complicated.’
‘Don’t you think I know that? I was the one who married your brother.’
‘And I’m the one who’s just screwed his wife.’
‘What did you just say?’ she asked, pushing herself away from him. ‘Is that all I am to you, a shag?’
‘I’m sorry, it’s not what I meant.’
‘It’s what you said, though. I’m not some cheap slapper who jumps into bed with any lad.’
‘I know, I know and I shouldn’t have said that.’ Mark reached out to hold her hand.
‘You and I know there’s something here that’s bigger than both of us.’
Mark nodded.
‘So come with me. It doesn’t have to be tomorrow, it could be in a week or a fortnight’s time. Just tell your parents you need to get away from here to clear your head. Give us some time together on our own to figure out what this is. You owe us this chance.’
‘Jade, I’m needed here.’
‘And I need you.’
‘I can’t do that to my family or to Kevin’s memory. How can I tell people … people who came to his funeral two weeks ago, that I’m in love with my sister-in-law?’
Mark’s use of the word ‘love’ made her blush and her body felt as if it was burning up. ‘But if I feel the same, how can it be so wrong?’ she asked.
Mark shook his head apologetically, and threw himself flat against the bed, staring up at the ceiling, as if waiting for divine intervention to tell him what to do. Jade suddenly felt awkward and very naked. Rejected and frustrated, she slipped her T-shirt and underwear back on and opened the door to go back to her room.
‘I am worth more than this, Mark,’ she snapped. ‘And if that doesn’t sink into your head pretty bloody soon, it’s going to be too late.’
As she turned back towards the door she was shocked to see Mark’s mother Susan glaring at them both from the corridor, her face a mixture of fury and disappointment.
Chapter 79
NICK
Nick’s appetite had all but disappeared. Each time he tried to fill his empty, rumbling stomach, he felt like bringing it back up again. So instead he stuck to his diet of cigarettes, chewing gum and bottles of flavoured water.
His initial reaction to discovering he was going to become a father was to shy away and he’d check himself into the central Birmingham hotel room he’d stayed in when he and Sally first separated. Unlike Alex’s apartment that was littered with his possessions, this anonymous room would help him think without his judgment being clouded.
Hour upon hour of solitude followed, as he stood at the ninth-storey window, taking in the city’s diverse skyline. He’d discovered that by removing the four screws from the window frame, he could disable the safety catches that prevented the window from being opened fully. He held the first two screws in the palm of his hand and an idea came to him. He quickly dismissed it, yet still he continued to turn the remaining two with a teaspoon. It was a solution that could put a stop to him being everyone’s problem, he reasoned.
Nick chose not to respond to any of Alex’s text messages that evening. He didn’t know how to tell that him that, instead of travelling to London to renew his passport, he’d actually spent the evening with his ex-girlfriend trying to come to terms with the fact that he could have a child by the end of the year. As the tone of Alex’s unanswered texts became more and more concerned, and the calls and voice-mails more frequent, Nick decided to switch his phone off.
A gentle breeze drifted through the window and reached Nick’s face but he didn’t register it. Instead, he recalled how he’d always wanted children but it was Sally who hadn’t been so sure. They’d reached a compromise that they’d wait until a couple of years after they married and would let nature take its course. But their city break to Bruges saw an end to that and now they were dealing with the consequences.
‘You can make this happen or you can make this stop,’ Sally had been at pains to point out, and he believed her. ‘I’m just presenting you with the facts. You can either be a father or not. I just know I can’t do this by myself. I’m not threatening you or giving you an ultimatum.’
It didn’t feel that way to Nick.
He was pragmatic in his approach and had worked through each viable way he could play a part in his child’s life and still remain with Alex. He figured he could still emigrate to New Zealand and, with flight prices falling year-on-year, he might be able to afford a return trip to the UK at least once a year, even twice if he was careful with his money. The rest of the time, he could watch his child grow up via FaceTime and Skype. It wouldn’t be ideal, but it was what thousands of armed service parents did, stationed countries apart from their children. And there’s no reason why Sally might not also bring their child over to visit. This was all on the assumption that she’d view this idea as ‘not being alone’. She was so scared of raising the baby by herself and he wanted to be there as much as he could. He couldn’t face thinking of the other option Sally had presented him with.
It was too big an ask of Alex to remain in London. He needed to be with his sick father. He was deteriorating by the day and he knew Alex was eager to make the move to be with him as he saw out his final weeks. If the shoe had been on the other foot, Nick would’ve put his family’s needs before his own too.
There were other ways around the problem, but all of them ended with the same result: Nick would be a bit player in his child’s life and that would never be enough for him. If he was to be a father, he wanted an active role in raising their child.
But a worrying thought began to creep into his mind and it frightened him. What if he resented the child for coming between him and his Match? What if every time he looked into its eyes, they would reflect the emptiness of his own? Nick shuddered.
The thought of being unable to see his soulmate for an indefinite period of time made Nick’s body ache. Not being able to laugh with him, be responsible for his gawky grin when he walked into a room, or hear the rise and fall of his chest as he slept, made Nick feel physically sick. And if he felt like this while they were still
in the same city, what would it be like once they were a world apart? Nick knew deep in the marrow of his bones that it would be too much to bear. Trying to come up with one answer to suit everyone was like trying to push the tide back into the ocean with a broom.
He swallowed hard and then glared at the remaining two screws in the window’s safety catches and closed his eyes. He had made his decision and there was no going back.
Chapter 80
ELLIE
‘Hello, Ells, I think it’s time we talked, isn’t it?’ Tim said, smiling broadly. His voice was carefree and melodious in tone, but his superficial grin undermined it. He leaned back in her chair behind the glass desk and sipped from a tumbler, then swirled the ice around. The lead crystal decanter that contained a much sought-after Scotch sat atop the drinks cabinet, purposely left out and unplugged for Ellie to notice.
This wasn’t the Tim she’d been head over heels in love with; this was Matthew, an unknown quantity, a man she had yet to meet but one she already hated. She fumbled around in her jacket pocket for Andrei’s panic alarm.
‘I know about the alarm and feel free to alert the giant to my presence if you like. I’m not going to stop you.’
Ellie turned to leave and press the button, but Matthew spoke again:
‘But if you do, you’ll never find out why I went to all this trouble to fuck with you.’
She stopped in her tracks, and remained with her back to him.
‘And as a scientist who has spent her life figuring out problems, I bet you’re just dying to know why.’
Ellie turned towards the drinks cabinet and mixed herself a gin and tonic. She straightened her skirt, sat down on one of the two sofas, crossed her legs and waited for Tim to join her on the sofa opposite. Her initial bewilderment at finding him there had been replaced by a sudden steely resolve. If he wanted to talk, he would have to come to her. She would not pander to any man.