by Jack Jordan
Her legs shook until the stirrups squeaked.
The chill of the room crept beneath the gown and touched her where only Dane had touched. To think that their love and need for one another’s bodies had brought her to this. The guilt she felt wasn’t because she was about to terminate a healthy foetus, but because she was going to destroy something that was a part of him.
Ever since the meeting in the doctor’s office, she had been unable to get the sound of the baby’s heartbeat out of her head.
She tried to steel her muscles to stop them from shaking so the doctor and nurses wouldn’t see how nervous she was, but despite her efforts, the chair shook until it rattled on its hinges. The drugs they had fed through the drip were worthless. She could still feel her racing heart and the ache in her abdomen. It was like her body knew.
The doctor spoke softly with a nurse, their backs turned to her to shield their words, as equipment was set up around her. Something knocked into the side of the chair.
‘Are you ready, Naomi?’ the doctor asked.
Naomi nodded and clenched her jaw. Even a flicker of softness would bring her resolve crumbling down.
‘It says on your record that the father isn’t aware of the pregnancy.’
Naomi nodded quickly and bit back the tears. She thought of Dane at home, oblivious to the fact that she was pregnant with the child he craved, and sitting in a chair with her legs open, ready for the doctor to rip it out of her.
‘There are often side effects after the procedure, and this is something your husband will be witness to: bleeding, cramps, and in rare cases, diarrhoea and nausea.’
‘My periods are heavy anyway; it won’t seem odd.’
‘And I’m sure you’ve been told this, but remember that you will be overly fertile after the procedure, so take the necessary precautions should sexual intercourse occur within the first few weeks.’
I did, she thought. I was so careful.
The tears fell from her eyes at the thought of Dane touching her again, the man who had put this thing inside her. They dripped down to her jaw and landed cruelly on her stomach, where the baby was growing. She had promised herself she wouldn’t cry, and yet here she was, breaking like a dam.
‘Are you okay?’
‘I’m fine,’ she said, wiping away the tears. ‘I want this.’
‘Okay. Lie back for me.’
Naomi lowered herself down, listening to the shaking of the stirrups. She clamped her eyes shut and dug her nails into the side of the chair.
Dane, I’m so sorry.
‘The procedure shouldn’t take long, only ten to fifteen minutes, and then we can get you a room to rest in before you leave.’
‘Is this it? The drugs, I mean?’
‘You shouldn’t feel any pain, just discomfort as I manoeuvre the vacuum into the uterus. You’ve been given a sedative through the drip there, and I will inject a local anaesthetic into the cervix so the area is numb.’
She had imagined the drugs would wipe her out and blur the procedure as though she were sleeping through a nightmare. She dug her nails into the palms of her hands. She would remember it all.
‘Shall we begin?’
She nodded.
‘I’m going to do an internal examination first, and then I will fit the speculum, okay?’
She nodded again. She couldn’t bring herself to speak.
Two gloved fingers felt around inside her as the doctor’s other hand pressed down on her abdomen, as if she was trying to make her hands meet.
‘Everything seems fine. I’m going to fit the speculum now.’
The cold steel instrument was placed inside and slowly began to crank open.
‘Try to relax, Naomi, otherwise it might hurt.’
The doctor’s words were warm on her inner thighs, an unwelcome caress.
She longed to cover her face so they wouldn’t witness the pain etched into it, but she couldn’t give them a reason to stop. She relaxed her muscles and felt the speculum crank again with a small sound, like the breaking of a wishbone, and then it was done, she was exposed, vulnerable in front of complete strangers.
‘Now I’ll administer the local anaesthetic … You might feel a pinch.’
Naomi nodded once more, feeling the heat from the overhead lights on her face. Someone dabbed a tear from her cheek with a paper towel.
‘Are you all right, Naomi?’ the doctor asked.
‘I’m fine. Please continue.’
The needle penetrated the wall of her cervix. The doctor pulled away and placed the syringe on a metal table with a quiet clank, before asking a nurse to pass her the device that would suck the life from inside Naomi, the thing that was a part of Dane, a part of her, a jumble of cells that should never have been formed.
‘You should be numb now, Naomi. I’m going to begin.’
She couldn’t feel anything at first, but after a few seconds she was aware of the tube deep inside her, pushing through to her womb.
The machine whirred; she jolted in the chair.
‘It’s just the suction, Naomi, no need to worry.’
The tube tugged beneath her skin, as though it had bitten down on her insides and latched onto the living thing inside her, teeth on bone.
Think of Max. Think of … No, don’t think of Dane. Anything but Dane.
The suction filled the tube with squelching liquid and devoured the life inside her with limitless hunger, until she felt she had nothing left to give, and longed for the tube to suck her up too.
She couldn’t block it out any more. Trying to distract herself with other thoughts was impossible. She tried to envisage herself at the beach, but the smell of the sea was tainted with the medical tang in the air. When she thought of the waves rolling in towards the shore and rippling the sand on the beach, the sound of the vacuum gargled up the water and dragged her back into the room.
She lay back in the chair with her eyes closed, too exhausted to stop the tears from coming, and listened to the rumbling from the machine and the rattle of the tube, knocking against the walls of her cervix and pulling at her insides.
I’m so sorry, Dane.
‘Naomi? I said it’s all done.’
‘It is?’
She would have slapped herself if she could. Her tone was weak, childlike. She cleared her throat.
‘I’ll just need to do a further examination, and then we can take you somewhere to rest.’
She longed to stay there for ever, hidden behind the walls of the clinic so she didn’t have to face what she had done. She wondered if people would see her differently now, as if they could somehow spot that she had terminated a healthy baby, her womb its own little death row.
She covered her face with her hands and let the silent tears fall. She would never be able to look Dane in the eye again.
It’s over. My marriage is over.
THIRTY-NINE
Marcus walked through the doors to the ICU with Lisa leading the way. They hadn’t spoken a word on the drive over.
‘We’re here to see Josie Callaghan. It’s urgent.’
‘She’s only just woken up. She needs rest,’ the nurse said without looking up from the computer screen.
‘She’s a witness in a murder investigation,’ Lisa said, thrusting her warrant card across the desk. ‘Keeping us away could mean another woman is attacked, even killed. Is that what you want?’
The nurse looked up then and eyed Lisa’s credentials. Then he got up.
‘This way.’ He led them through the ward. ‘She has her own room; the injury to her neck was … frightening other patients.’
‘They’re in the ICU,’ Lisa replied. ‘Shouldn’t they be too ill to notice?’
‘It was more the visitors, really. They wouldn’t stop staring.’
They passed unconscious bodies lying in beds with tubes up their noses and down their throats. The light at the end of the corridor was flickering off and on.
‘Just here. Her family usually arrive around te
n.’
‘If we aren’t done, they’ll have to wait,’ Lisa said.
‘I don’t think they’ll accept that.’
‘Then don’t think.’
Lisa opened the door to Josie’s room and stepped inside. Marcus nodded to the nurse, in both thanks and apology.
There was nothing welcoming about the room: not the incessant beep of the heart monitor, nor the cold lino floor, nor the flowers already shrivelling in the vase beside the bed. Josie was sitting up, staring at them with those icy blue eyes. The wound on her neck looked like a red choker emblazoned into the skin. Thick stitches kept it together. Marcus tried not to remember how it had looked torn open and packed with dirt.
‘Her voice box was severely damaged and needs time to heal,’ the nurse said, and picked up a small whiteboard and pen from beside the bed. ‘If you want to communicate with her, you’ll need to ask her to write it down.’
Lisa took the board and pen and turned her back. The door clicked shut behind the nurse.
‘Josie, we’re here to find out what happened to you. We’ve spoken to Naomi. Now we want to hear from you. All right?’
Josie hesitated as she took them in, and eventually nodded.
Lisa sat beside the bed. Marcus stood at the foot and watched the woman closely. He knew she was about to weave lie after lie; he could see it in her eyes.
Josie took the whiteboard from Lisa. She struggled to hold the pen with the heart monitor clip on her finger. She switched the clip to her other hand, with a brief bleep from the monitor. Marcus noticed the steadiness of her hands.
‘What happened, Josie? How did it all start?’
Josie began to write. The squeak of the pen made Marcus’s teeth ache.
I went to confront Naomi about the affair. She told me to come back later. She said we should go for a walk.
Bullshit, Marcus thought, and gripped the bed frame.
Josie rubbed the writing away with the side of her palm and started again, skirting through grey clouds of ink lingering on the board.
She took me into the woods, said we would have privacy there. I wasn’t scared until she pulled out the knife.
Marcus went to speak, but Lisa raised a finger to silence him. Her eyes never left the whiteboard.
I ran away. I didn’t think she would catch me, but I tripped and fell. Naomi came up behind me and grabbed my hair until my head was off the ground.
You’re lying, Marcus thought as he watched her hand slide across the board. She wrote with such ferocity and flow, he wondered if she actually believed her own lies, or whether she had been planning what to say from the moment she woke up. She flipped the board over to write more, too impatient to wait.
She cut my throat and left me there. I couldn’t stop the blood. I packed it with mud. Everything went dark.
He couldn’t restrain himself any longer. ‘Bullshit!’
‘Marcus, leave the room.’
‘She’s lying to our faces and you’re letting her!’
‘Get out!’ Lisa stood from her chair.
‘I won’t let you get away with this,’ he said to Josie. ‘I swear to God I won’t.’
Josie tried to speak. Her hand rose to her neck.
‘Marcus, leave. Now.’ Lisa pointed to the door.
Josie sat up and gripped the bed sheet. ‘Naomi … tried … to kill … me.’ Her voice cracked with the strain.
‘You’re lying,’ Marcus spat.
‘NAOMI TRIED TO KILL ME!’ Josie screamed. ‘NAOMI … TRIED … TO … KILL … ME!’
Blood began to stain her teeth. She coughed violently. It splattered on the white sheets and bled from the wound on her neck, oozing around the stitches and dribbling towards her chest.
‘Get help!’ Lisa ordered. ‘Get help now!’
Marcus barged his shoulder into the door frame and stumbled back through the ward. As he placed his hands on top of the nurses’ station, he noticed that Josie’s blood had splattered on the back of his hand. The nurse spotted it and his face went white. Marcus didn’t need to say a word. As the two men ran towards the room, Marcus realised that Josie had orchestrated the whole thing. She knew Marcus could see right through her. She was getting him out of the way.
The nurse burst through the door. The heart monitor was racing and blood was flying from Josie’s lips in hacking coughs. He pressed a button on the wall and an alarm sounded above their heads. Josie began to choke on her own blood.
‘Leave!’ Lisa shouted over the cacophony.
Marcus looked at Josie, at the blood spitting from the wound in her neck, and was sure he could see the twinkle of a smile in her eyes.
He turned and left with his heart beating in his throat. He stared down at his bloodied hand as nurses raced towards Josie’s room, and wondered how he had let himself be so easily manipulated. He was a detective, for God’s sake, and he had been led right into her trap. He was a damn fool.
Beneath the shame, fear began to spread.
If he was taken off the case, who would protect Naomi?
FORTY
Marcus sat before Lisa’s desk in silence.
They had barely spoken since the visit to the hospital, and he had been left with paperwork to attend to for the rest of the day. He hadn’t noticed the pivotal moment when Blake stepped into his shoes beside Lisa, accompanying her out of the office and having meetings behind closed doors. Lisa had gradually teased Marcus’s responsibilities from his grasp, until Marcus found himself completing Amber’s old duties: sifting through paperwork, answering the phones that never seemed to stop ringing. He hated it, but if Lisa had pulled him into her office for an apology, she would be waiting a very long time. He couldn’t persecute an innocent woman, even if it meant saving his own neck.
‘You can’t seriously believe Naomi attempted to kill Josie?’ he said finally.
‘No, I don’t,’ Lisa replied, her hands laced together on top of the desk. ‘I believe she colluded with her ex-husband. I don’t think she did it alone.’
‘But it doesn’t make sense. Dane would have taken her back in a heartbeat; they wouldn’t have needed to hurt anyone.’
‘You’ve met Josie,’ Lisa replied. ‘She’s not exactly easy to get along with. You think she was just going to comply with their wishes?’ She sighed. ‘You need to remember that sociopaths think differently to the way we do. Just because we can’t fathom the reasons behind the crimes, it doesn’t mean that the accusations are wrong.’
Marcus went to respond, but she raised her hand.
‘I didn’t call you in here to talk about whether you believe her or not. Blake’s on the case. This is about the situation at the hospital.’
‘She was lying to our faces. I couldn’t stand back and watch as you lapped up every word.’
‘The woman survived the attack. Why the hell would she pin it on Naomi if she knew that the person who had really tried to kill her was still out there?’
‘You said sociopaths think differently,’ Marcus replied. ‘And that if we can’t understand their reasons, it doesn’t mean—’
‘You think a young woman who had her throat slit from ear to ear would lie about the person who was holding the knife? She told you it was Naomi over and over, until a stitch in her neck snapped, for Christ’s sake.’
‘She’s lying. Why would she only blame Naomi? Dane’s watch was found at the scene. Why let him walk and pin it all on Naomi?’
‘She’s young and in love, which makes her stupid.’
‘It means she’s unreliable. If the person I loved tried to kill me, I don’t think I’d let that slide. Would you?’
‘Maybe Dane wasn’t there at all. Maybe Naomi planted the watch. He obviously believes he’s being framed.’
‘Josie is hiding something from us and you don’t even care.’
‘I don’t care?’ Lisa stood up and peered down at him. ‘I’m here fourteen hours a day, often seven days a week, because all I do is care about this town. I’ve been doing this
job for years, working on cases just like this. You think you know better than me?’
‘I know that you’re trying to bury the Hayley Miller case, hoping it will disappear. The only reason you took me to see Josie was because you don’t want Blake near her. Probably wise, since he was a suspect in her sister’s disappearance. Is that why you’re pinning this on Naomi? So the truth won’t lead back to him?’
‘And here I was giving you the opportunity to apologise.’
Marcus stood up and adjusted his jacket. Lisa walked around the desk without taking her eyes off him, and stopped in front of him.
‘You’re assigned to desk duty unless I say otherwise. I’m going to bury you in so much paperwork that you’ll be begging me to forgive you. Once I’m through with you, you’ll be willing to incriminate your own damn mother if I tell you to.’ She jabbed his chest with her finger. ‘Now get out of my sight.’
Marcus stared into her eyes. Lisa was cruel and corrupt; even her touch made him feel sick. She was never going to back down.
But neither was he.
He stormed out of her office and headed for the door. He needed fresh air, to get away.
If Lisa planned to incriminate Naomi for crimes she hadn’t committed, he’d have to do everything he possibly could to prove her wrong, before it was too late.
FORTY-ONE
Naomi opened the front door and listened to the light patter of the rain.
The week she had spent locked up inside her house after being released on bail had felt like months. Seven days breathing in the same stale air, wandering from room to room. She was terrified at the thought of stepping out into the world again, but she couldn’t be alone any more. With only her own thoughts for company, she found herself dragged into the darkest depths of her mind, where the cliffs called to her. She couldn’t stay inside the house a minute longer.
Dane was out on bail too, the newspapers said. Her mother would read the articles aloud, even when Naomi asked her not to. Rachel had been the one to pay her bail, selling her car and her jewellery, taking out a second mortgage on her house. Grace wasn’t to know.