Ready or Not

by Thomas, Rachel

  Kate finished her conversation in the hall before returning to the kitchen and Sophie. ‘She sends her love,’ Kate said, putting her mobile back into her bag.

  Sophie snorted and turned her tear-stained face away. ‘She can stuff her love,’ she said.

  Kate took her seat opposite the girl. ‘Why were you and Ben taken from your father, Sophie?’

  Sophie put her book down and sighed. ‘Ask social services,’ she said. Her mouth pressed into a hard line and the attitude was back.

  ‘I’m asking you.’

  The girl’s defences had been set high, but Kate could sense them slowly crumbling, despite the guarded shifty looks and the hard set, pouting mouth. She would give her time; let her speak when she was ready to.

  ‘He couldn’t cope with us,’ she eventually said. ‘He didn’t want us there. It was like we were invisible. Sometimes, he wouldn’t speak to me at all. I mean, for like days on end. It was like we were in his way. We were invisible to him.’

  She pulled at a clump of hair that had come loose from the band at the back of her head and distractedly peeled a split end.

  ‘He started drinking,’ she continued. ‘I was practically bringing Ben up for a while. He was too young to do stuff for himself, you know? So I was washing his school uniform, making his dinner. The drinking just got worse, and that was when everything went wrong really, or at least got a lot worse, if you know what I mean.’

  Kate studied the girl and thought her far older than her years. She spoke with the tired acceptance of someone who’d lived a life of hardship, not a fifteen year old whose biggest worry should have been what she was going to wear out that evening.

  She thought of her own mother; of the states she had seen her in as a result of alcohol. In the end, in the months leading up to her suicide, she had been barely recognisable as the woman Kate remembered from her childhood, before Daniel had been taken from them.

  ‘What was he like before, Sophie?’

  ‘Before?’

  ‘Before your mother died.’

  She shrugged and dropped her hair on her shoulder. ‘He worked a lot. He always seemed separate from us, somehow. I dunno,’ she said, ‘Like there was somewhere else he’d rather be, I suppose. It was like he was looking for something. He spent a lot more time working than he did with us. He was always at his bloody computer, or at some work meeting, or away on some business trip. I was never really close to him. I was always closer to mum.’

  ‘And what about Ben?’

  ‘The same. He was always closer to mum.’

  ‘If you knew your father was having an affair, why did you never tell your mum?’

  Sophie chewed anxiously on her lower lip and stared at the table. ‘I was going to,’ she said. ‘I kept building up the courage to tell her and then I just couldn’t do it. I didn’t want them to get a divorce, no matter how much he pissed me off sometimes. He made her happy somehow. She always looked so happy, you know?’

  Kate thought about what Claire had just told her on the phone.

  ‘Were your parents close, Sophie? What were they like together?’

  The shutters slammed closed again and Sophie glared at her defensively again. ‘Why are you asking me all these questions?’ she said. ‘You were looking for Ben. You’ve found him. You can go now.’

  Kate wasn’t ready to go. ‘I just…’ She hesitated, not knowing how to explain herself. What would she say to Sophie? How could she suitably explain her unusual interest in the girl’s father? She could hardly tell her that she had as good as dated him and wanted to know what she had almost let herself in for.

  ‘I said you can go now,’ Sophie repeated.

  Thirty Six

  PC Matthew Curtis had sat through ninety long minutes of CCTV footage from Candy’s. He had only been to a strip club once, when he was seventeen, and it had been one of the most embarrassing experiences of his adolescence. His mates had paid for a dance and watched and laughed as he had turned practically purple, when a stripper gyrated just inches from his face.

  ‘Chill out, little boy,’ the girl had said to him, as hard as the floor she danced on.

  He needed to toughen up, he knew. He’d managed it, early on; he’d done a good job at proving that he had what it took to cut it as a police officer. He managed to switch off: he didn’t let things get to him. He hadn’t meant them to, but the edges were fraying now, and he was sure that people he worked with had begun to notice it.

  *

  He spotted Joseph Ryan first. He appeared in the corner of the screen, ordering a drink from the bar. Overly confident, a swagger in his step, he flirted openly with the girl who served his drink then turned to lean with his back to the bar, leisurely surveying his surroundings. He was, Matthew supposed, handsome: dark hair, darker eyes and an athletic, toned physique. His eyes scanned the room, looking over the women as though considering a purchase.

  When Joseph moved again and stepped further into the picture another man appeared closely behind him. Early thirties, dark hair, athletic build again; another one for the ladies by the looks of him. Adam.

  Matthew sat back and watched the figure cross the frame. He skipped the tape forward and pressed pause when he found the best shot of the mysterious Adam. A strange expression crossed his face. He would have to tell the boss. He left the room, stuck his head in next door and called for Chris.

  ‘Come and look at this, boss,’ Matthew said.

  He stood behind Chris as he studied the image on the screen. He’d done his job, but didn’t feel particularly pleased with himself or confident about what was yet to come. He sat back in his seat and aimlessly shuffled some papers.

  ‘Recognise him?’ he asked.

  Chris leaned closer to the screen to get a better look. ‘No.’

  Matthew pressed the pause button again and the tape ran on, showing Adam moving across and out of the frame.

  ‘So,’ Matthew said. ‘How do we find him?’

  ‘Give me two minutes,’ Chris said, leaving the room again.

  Thirty Seven

  Finding two missing children in one day should have been a career highlight, but for Kate it had brought nothing but further misery and confusion. Yes, Stacey and Ben had been found, but behind their disappearances were trails of confusion that didn’t even begin to make sense. First there was this mysterious man who had managed to convince Dean and Nathan Williams to kidnap Stacey Reed, apparently for no reason and at no personal gain. Then there was Neil Davies and the web of lies that he had managed to weave around himself. Kate had been the fly, well and truly reeled in and hooked.

  She pulled into the car park at the station and turned off the engine, put her head on the steering wheel and took a deep breath. Her face was flushed and she could feel a migraine kicking in.

  The conversation she’d had on the phone with Claire Morgan, Sophie and Ben’s aunt, in the hallway of the Evans’ house, replayed on loudspeaker in her mind.

  ‘Kate…’ There was a long pause, as though Claire had been unsure whether or not to continue. ‘I know you must think terrible things of me,’ she’d blurted suddenly, ‘but I was in trouble and I had no one to turn to. I trusted Neil.’

  ‘Your relationship with Neil is not my concern,’ Kate told her, a little coldly. ‘I’m more interested in why you lied to police when you were asked if you’d seen or heard from Ben.’

  ‘I told you,’ she said, her voice wavering. ‘Ben asked me not to say he was with me. He said he doesn’t want to go back to his foster family. I told him we’d have to tell them eventually, but he just needed a couple of days. I thought if I could just keep him happy for a few days I’d be able to talk him round.’

  Kate had stopped by the living room door. The sound of Phil Mitchell threatening Ian Beale came from the TV and, satisfied Sophie’s foster mother’s attention was otherwise occupied, she resumed the conversation with Claire.

  ‘Did Ben say why he didn’t want to go home?’

  ‘It’s
not his home,’ Claire said quickly; a little too quickly, Kate thought.

  ‘His foster parents are good people,’ Kate said, her voice edged with frustration. ‘They’ve been out of their minds with worry.’

  ‘Have you spoken to Sophie?’ Claire asked after a pause. ‘Has she told you what she saw?’

  When Kate said nothing Claire immediately realised she’d made a mistake and knew she’d said too much. She’d now have to explain everything, and Kate had already assumed that it would only make the woman look worse than she already did.

  ‘She told me you were having an affair with her father,’ Kate replied.

  ‘Not exactly what I’d call it,’ Claire said bitterly. ‘I needed money. My boyfriend had left me, I’d been evicted from my flat – I didn’t know who to turn to.’

  ‘Why didn’t you ask Sarah for help?’

  ‘We weren’t talking,’ Claire confessed. ‘She’d washed her hands of me.’

  ‘So Neil gave you money?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Kate had already sensed where this was heading. She leaned against the wall in the hallway, glancing back at the kitchen door. She saw Sophie quickly move away from where she’d been listening and return to her chair at the table.

  ‘What did he ask for in return, Claire?’

  At the end of the line Claire inhaled sharply and sighed. ‘It wasn’t like that,’ she said, trying to convince herself it was true, ‘not at first. He was kind. He looked after me, like a brother would. He knew the trouble I was in. He let me see the kids when Sarah wouldn’t.’

  ‘Why wouldn’t she let you see the kids?’

  ‘We’d argued. We’d been arguing on and off for years.’

  ‘It wasn’t just the flat, was it?’ Kate said, sensing something missing in what Claire was telling her. Sisters didn’t fall out for years unless there was something significant they’d fallen out over. ‘If you and Sarah were close why didn’t you just ask her for the money you needed. I’m sure she would have given you a loan. Most sisters would. What trouble were you in, Claire?’

  There was a long pause. ‘Drugs,’ Claire finally confessed. ‘I owed a lot of money.’ She sighed heavily again.

  ‘Did Sarah know?’ Kate asked.

  ‘Yeah, she knew. She knew I’d been into drugs years ago but she thought I’d cleaned up and moved on. Soon after they moved to South Wales she found out I’d gone back on it and she gave up on me. I don’t blame her really, not anymore. My parents had given up on me – Sarah was the only family I had left. She told me I wouldn’t be able to see the kids and I couldn’t bear that. I love those kids.’

  ‘So you slept with their father?’

  Kate didn’t have the time or inclination to regret her choice of words or the force with which they’d been spoken; she was too angry to apologise or tone them down with retraction. Angry at Claire: angry at herself. She tried to recall if there had been any signs that this was the type of man Neil Davies really was, but of course there hadn’t. Of course, she didn’t know him at all really: or anything about him. He’d been savvy enough to let her do all the talking whilst he sat back and absorbed the details.

  She cursed herself and her bloody naivety.

  ‘What do you mean, ‘not anymore’?’ Kate asked, breaking the silence.

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘You said you don’t blame Sarah, ‘not anymore’. What did you blame her for?’

  There was a long pause. ‘It’s stupid really,’ Claire eventually said. ‘None of it was Sarah’s fault, she wasn’t responsible for me.’

  ‘But…’ Kate pressed her.

  ‘She was always the golden girl,’ Claire explained. ‘Brilliant results at school, sporty, pretty. First person in our family to go to university. My parents were always so proud of her. I was a disappointment in comparison. I could never quite get it right, you know? Not quite smart enough, not quite pretty enough. Just average next to Sarah.’

  ‘So the drugs were a way of getting attention?’

  ‘In the beginning, I suppose. I don’t know. Just got in with the wrong crowd. When someone’s always expecting the worst of you it’s easy to give them what they want, know what I mean?’

  Kate knew exactly what she meant. ‘What about the affair?’ she asked.

  Claire hesitated again. ‘I’m not proud of it,’ she said.

  ‘Look,’ Kate said bluntly. ‘I’m not interested in judging you, that’s not my job. I just want to know why I’ve been sent on a wild goose chase by Neil, and anything you can tell me about the past might help to explain what the hell’s going on here. I’ve spent the last few days looking for a missing child who wasn’t missing, when my time could have been spent doing something far more productive and useful. So just tell me about the affair, Claire.’

  Claire cleared her throat, preparing herself for her confession. ‘I was in love with him,’ she said unexpectedly, taking Kate by surprise. She hadn’t expected the relationship to have reached that kind of stage, although she found it easy to believe that Claire had been reeled in by Neil. Hadn’t he had exactly the same effect on her?

  ‘Not at first,’ Claire continued, ‘but after a while I fell in love with him. I never meant to. It was a game in the beginning. I wasn’t thinking straight, it was the drugs – my head was a mess. My life was falling apart and then there’s Sarah, turning up with her perfect husband and her perfect family and her perfect career. What were they doing moving down here when they’d had their life until now somewhere else? Why here of all places, so close to me, when she’d wanted nothing to do with me for so long? It was like she was rubbing my face in it, you know. She seemed so smug and bloody self-righteous. We had an argument – I’d turned up at the house a bit worse for wear, if you know what I mean, and she told me never to go there again, that she didn’t want me round the kids. And I remember hating her. Just for that moment, I hated her so much. She had everything I wanted. So I took what was hers.’

  Claire stopped talking. Kate put a hand to her head as though touching the migraine that had started working its way across her temples.

  ‘You must think I’m a real bitch,’ Claire continued, ‘and I was. I didn’t care. I did it at first just to prove that I could, as if sleeping with Neil meant that I was somehow as good as Sarah. For a while I thought that Neil actually wanted me – I thought that it was me he wanted to be with really, not her. He knew that it’d become more than I’d ever meant it to be and he started making all these promises. He didn’t mean any of it, not really. And I knew that, even then, but I let it go on and then it went on much further than I’d ever meant it to. It was like I’d started the game and he took hold of the controls.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell her?’ Kate asked. ‘If she wasn’t talking to you anyway, why would it have mattered? Surely it would have been best for Sarah to know what her husband was really like. Wouldn’t that have been your ultimate revenge?’

  ‘Would you confess to that?’ Claire asked, laughing bitterly. ‘Anyway, he threatened me, and I’d seen enough of him by that point to not test him on it. He’s not who he seems to be, Kate. He already tried to kill me once - I wasn’t going to give him a second chance.’ Her voice suddenly cracked. ‘That’s why I had to keep Ben here. I was afraid what he might do if I didn’t. Not to me, but to Ben. Neil was a mad bastard before, but he’s something else now.’

  Kate sat on the bottom step of the Evans’ staircase. Yet again, the conversation had taken another unexpected turn. ‘What do you mean, he tried to kill you once?’ she said.

  ‘He tried to strangle me after I told him I was going to tell Sarah everything and he would have gone through with it if Sophie hadn’t walked in on us.’ Claire’s voice shook. ‘Sophie had been in the kitchen listening to us, but neither of us had realised she was there. She was supposed to be at some after-school thing.’

  There was a silence as Claire tried to steady her voice. ‘Neil found out where I was living and he brought Ben here last Sunda
y,’ she said quickly, getting the words out before she could change her mind again. ‘It was a total shock – I hadn’t seen Neil in years and I didn’t want to see him again. He told me to keep Ben hidden. He said if the police came around asking questions I was to keep my mouth shut and pretend I hadn’t seen either of them. So that’s what I did. I’m so sorry, I didn’t have a choice. You have no idea what he’s capable of. He’s not who you think he is.’

  Kate leaned against the wall. An alcoholic was one thing: a failure as a parent, another. This was something completely different; a different league of total shit and a dangerous, manipulative control freak. Kate tried to clear her mind of the thought of him and think.

  ‘Listen Claire,’ she said, ‘If Neil gets in touch, I don’t want you to tell him you’ve spoken to me. This is important, you understand?’ She reasoned that if Neil knew, he might do something extreme or at the very least, do a runner. ‘You promise me?’ she said.

  The thought of sharing lunch with Neil, of being close enough to inhale the scent of his aftershave, made Kate feel sick. The thought of him leaning in to kiss her made her blood run cold.

  Claire could give Kate a promise that she wouldn’t tell him, but what were her words worth really? This woman had let down her whole family, the niece and nephew she claimed to love so dearly, and she’d lied to the police before, as easy as making a promise she had no intention of keeping. Whose words could Kate trust anymore?

  Had Claire been as easily seduced by him as she almost had? Hadn’t she admitted to falling for him, though she’d had glimpses of the person he really was? She remembered the touch of his skin on hers and hated herself for being so naïve.

  She wouldn’t tell him, Kate thought. The risk was too great: Neil knew where she lived and if he was going to hurt Claire then the fact that she had Ben with her wouldn’t be likely to make any difference. She hadn’t been dealing with a caring, vulnerable man who’d been devastated by the death of his wife; she’d been confiding in a liar: a controlling, manipulative man who was nothing like the person she had so naively assumed he was.