‘I didn’t know you were a hardcore sci-fi fan,’ she says.
He looks up. ‘I’m the most hardcore. I was reading Ted Chiang short stories long before they turned his short piece “The Story of Your Life” into the movie Arrival.’
‘It’s very impressive that you know that . . .’
She nestles into him as the theme song begins to play. The more she stays by his side, the less opportunities there are for her to walk the streets alone. Those men can’t touch her now.
He has apologized for slipping up with Nicole countless times, and assured her that he left her apartment long before anything happened. Freya has started to believe that it was simply a case of drunken bad judgment. Nicole was very persuasive, even she experienced this a few times. Freya received an email from Isla a few days ago, showing her evidence from Nicole’s computer that shows, without a doubt, that the advert that haunted her was never even sent. A police officer called her and informed her of the same thing. Even Julian has been relatively well behaved, apart from the occasional lingering hand on her shoulder while she works. There is no need to make any sudden moves. For the first time in ages, all is relatively well.
So what about being here tonight, is making her feel on edge?
Jay’s hand slips under her T-shirt and over her breasts. ‘Gosh, you feel amazing. You’re getting sexier by the day . . .’
There are signs if one looks for them. The slightest softening of her belly, a widening of her hips. Her body is slowly breaking free of its old shape and refashioning into something new. Freya really should tell him, before it’s too late, before the news tells itself, but something is stopping her. Maybe she is addicted to the possibility of two different paths. As soon as she utters the word ‘pregnant’ to Jay, it becomes a decision to be faced as a couple.
She wishes she could ask her mother, ‘Was it easy? Were you forced to keep me because you didn’t have a choice? Or did you feel the kindling of something that you couldn’t let go of? Did you spend weeks agonizing over it, paralyzed with fear, or was the answer always yes?’
Freya has a right to her twenties, to a decade of learning, experimentation and overwork. She has a right to spend her paychecks on shoes and handbags, or boozy brunches of overpriced smashed avocado toast. She has a right to pay back her student loans effortlessly and put money aside for a pension fund. She has a right to travel, and to follow her talent as far as it goes. A baby feels like a sentence, an abrupt end to the carefree life she had planned. She’s seen the articles on motherhood shared on social media – she knows what a challenge it can be. Freya looks towards Jay – would he help her with the same enthusiasm he is courting her now, or would he simply disappear?
He presses pause. ‘Got to go to the bathroom quickly.’
The risotto, while lovingly prepared, is far too salty. Freya grabs the chance to throw it in the bin. Pregnancy has reduced any tolerance for forcing food down. She glances around the kitchen – she’ll never get over how clean it is. Even though Jay has just made a complex meal, the counter tops are spotless. So spotless, that a notepad sticks out.
She really shouldn’t look, not after last time. But an innocent part of her thinks it is a recipe book. There is something revealing about the recipes a person jots down, it’s a window into their secret comforts. And she is right, there is the recipe for pea and chorizo risotto scrawled on the page.
Maybe it’s boredom, maybe it’s instinct, but she turns the page. There is her name, Freya, and a list beneath it.
• Bob Dylan
• Vinyl
• Spicy food
• Italian food
• Sci-fi TV series
• Travel to exotic places
• India
• Receiving small gifts
• Vintage clothing
• Sewing
It goes on and on, until a scream starts surging in her chest. It’s a list of every little thing she likes, a written representation of her quirks on paper. There is something clinical about it, chilling. Freya wraps her arms around herself.
‘I really didn’t take you for one of those nosy girlfriends.’ Jay comes up behind her and wraps his arms tightly across her chest. She can’t move. She has to get out of here, now.
Try to sound calm, back away gently. ‘I’m sorry, Jay, I was just looking at the recipe for that gorgeous risotto you made for me.’
‘You mean, the risotto you just put in the bin?’ The rage burns around his words. She has to leave, right now.
He grabs her by the wrists and pulls her close, so close she can smell the alcohol on his breath. ‘You’re an ungrateful bitch, you know that?’ There is something wild in his eyes. It shocks her. Where did all the care of a few moments before go? Where has this apparent hatred come from?
‘Do you honestly think I like Bob Dylan? Or cooking? Or this filthy vintage leather jacket? Or the clothes you sew that make you look like a Junior High drama teacher?’
‘Jay, I don’t understand . . . we’re the same. We get each other.’
‘You will never, ever understand what it’s like to be me,’ he smirks. ‘Do you know what it’s like to enter a room and have your appearance announce itself before you even utter your name? To be assumed as less American because of your surname? Your sob story is very charming, Freya, but to call it the same as mine would be an insult.’
Her thoughts turn to the baby. Is shock bad for her? Her. It feels like a girl. Will this make her sick? Could Freya lose her? A strength rises up in her, enough to push him away and feel for the pepper spray in her pocket.
‘Get away from me!’
He grabs her arms and begins to shake her. ‘What do I need to do to make you trust me? Huh? How much more do I have to bend over backwards?’
The words bubble out of her mouth, like poison. ‘Maybe you could start by not being such a fucking creep,’ she says, gesturing to the notepad. ‘I’m starting to wonder whether Nicole was the crazy one in your relationship, or if you were.’
His eyes flash. She’s crossed a line. Time slows as he raises his hand, his rings glint as she flinches in preparation of bone meeting skin. Her knees buckle and she collapses to the floor. Is that blood she tastes in her mouth? Or fear? She shrinks her body into a ball, instinctively protective. She will survive this, she will fight, she will tell the story that Nicole couldn’t.
Within the chaos she realizes what she knew all along.
She wants to keep her baby.
Chapter 83
Isla
Six weeks after the murder
When she sees a tall, burly silhouette hovering near her desk, Isla thinks with an irrational leap in her chest that it is Simon. Maybe he has found Freya’s stalker. Or he could just be in the area and decided to stop for a visit – she wouldn’t mind that either. As she moves closer, she realizes she really should get glasses. The man is actually shorter than Simon, with the curve of a belly straining the buttons of his shirt.
‘May I help you?’
‘I am Officer White. Are you Isla Davis?’ His eyes barely meet hers.
‘Yes . . .’
‘Is this your computer, ma’am?’
‘Yes.’
Isla looks around her. Is this another stunt Kenneth has pulled? All she sees are the eyes of the other reporters on her. She sighs. Surprise, surprise, she is the rogue journalist in trouble again. Bet they all want to see how this story unfolds.
He steps in front of her with unnecessary sass, she thinks. ‘I’m going to need you to step aside while I search your computer.’
‘I don’t think so. Until you present a warrant, I have a right to privacy.’
He flashes a piece of paper bearing the letterhead she knows all too well. For the first time, her name is on the front.
‘Enough for ya?’ His mouth has too many teeth. It gives the impression that he is snarling.
‘I don’t understand.’
‘Please step aside, ma’am, this w
ill only take a second.’
Isla enters her username and password, then steps away as the officer clicks randomly, with narrowed eyes and the occasional grunt. It’s a strange sensation standing next to her own desk while someone goes through her folders.
Isla steps back again and seethes. Just wait until she tells Simon about this. Where the hell is Kenneth? Surely this counts as police harassment?
The officer looks at her for a long time. ‘Thank you, Isla. I’ve seen all I need to see here. You will be hearing more from me soon.’
He walks off, with a lopsided swagger. It’s all so strange, Isla feels like she dreamed it up. Why would he come into her office unannounced and search through her computer? What was he looking for, who reported her, and what was the alleged crime?
She tries to settle into her morning by mucking around on Facebook and clicking through photos from Kirsty’s latest skiing holiday to Val d’Isère. She writes an affirming comment on one or two of the photographs. Takes a sip of lukewarm coffee, which does nothing to help her racing heart. Runs through the past couple of weeks in her mind.
She hasn’t done anything to justify interest from the police, or has she?
Chapter 84
Freya
One year ago
Graduation night, the moment Freya has been working toward her whole life. It took less than a minute to walk across the stage, to shake the Dean’s hand and to accept her degree, but already she feels different. Life will be better from here on out, she can step boldly into her future.
Hattie, Jasmin and Kate are waiting outside the hall after the ceremony. They crowd her in a hug, a tangle of four black graduation gowns.
‘You did it, you really did it!’
‘And you made the Dean’s List as well! You can do anything now!’
Some of her classmates shake her hand and congratulate her. To them, she is just another smart girl, but her friends understand the impossibility of this achievement.
Kate turns toward the door. ‘Right, girls, are you ready to throw off your robes and take these gorgeous dresses out and celebrate?’
Kate’s parents had booked a private booth at an expensive steakhouse. Hattie and Kate chatter happily, while Jasmin scans the menu for vegetarian options. Freya handles everything from the menu to the salt cellars with the greatest of care.
Kate’s father is a portly, jolly man, with a relaxed demeanor who never appears to work too hard. He raises his glass of wine. ‘A toast, to all four of you lovely ladies and your future – the world is yours!’
Their glasses clink loudly, and they burst into laughter.
‘Now,’ he says, ‘order anything you like.’
Kate’s mother, petite and blonde, adds, ‘Wait! A special toast to the genius responsible for our Kate passing her degree: here’s to Freya!’
Freya can’t bear to have all eyes on the table focusing on her like this. She blushes furiously. ‘I just helped Kate a little bit every now and then. She passed all on her own.’
Kate breaks a hot loaf of bread and butters it, passing a slice to Freya. ‘That’s not true, and you know it,’ she whispers.
She’s right. Although Freya intended to only help Kate every now and then, it was clear from early on that Kate battled to learn. No matter how many tutors or special resources her rich family threw at her, she seemed destined to fail. Year after year, Freya pushed forward in her studies, and dragged her best friend along with her, one ghostwritten assignment at a time.
As they toast and laugh and enjoy course after course, it dawns on Freya that the night is an entrée into a new society. Kate’s money could get her so far, but a degree will get her further. Without Freya’s help, she would have been an embarrassment to her family, a privileged but untethered soul destined to chip into the family trust fund as she floundered to find herself.
Kate, with purple lips and wine-stained teeth pulls her closer, and whispers in her ear.
‘You will never understand how much your help means to me, how much it means that you sacrificed your time, year after year. One day, I will do something just as big for you. Wait and see. You deserve the world, Freya, and I will do anything to help you get it. Anything.’
Chapter 85
Freya
Six weeks after the murder
Her jaw aches from the impact of his fist, and a light violet bruise blooms on the left-hand side of her face. It’s bad, but it could have been worse. In this room, a darker bruise would have helped.
‘Julian, you have got to believe me. Jay was about to seriously injure me last night.’ She doesn’t add the most important bit, and I am nine weeks pregnant.
Jay didn’t know who he was messing with. Being a woman alone for much of her life, Freya knew how to defend herself. She’d screamed in his face to distract him, then used the rage coiled inside her to deliver a powerful kick to his balls. As he doubled over in agony, she held her jacket over her face and pushed on the pepper spray, hard. Fighting through the fog, and coughing through her makeshift mask, she wrenched his front door open and ran all the way home until she was safely locked in her room, wheezing and stomach churning. Jasmin, the only one home, rushed her to the ER, where they checked that she and the baby were OK.
There were things she left behind last night: her special silver bracelet, the only bra that fits her right now. But she will not ask for these things back. She is far too angry.
Julian’s eyes crease in concern. ‘Freya, I’m so sorry to see you like this. Have you seen anyone about that bruise? Do you need some time off?’
‘Yes, I went to the ER last night. They took my case very seriously.’ The attending doctor wrote a note, booking her off for two days, stating a trauma and early pregnancy as a reason. She also stated that her injuries appeared to be the result of physical abuse. But if Freya had taken the time off, and shown Julian the note, Julian would then know her secret.
Freya’s voice grows shrill. ‘Did you hear what I just said?’
He sips his green tea slowly. ‘I’ve heard arnica works miracles. You rub it in gently and then – bam – it’s gone the next day. I have a great homeopath, if you’d like an appointment with him. He’s usually booked for months in advance.’
Why won’t he acknowledge what she just said? She changes tack.
‘Julian . . . I have taken photographs of my face, and I intend to report Jay Singh to the police for assault.’
He leans across the table. ‘Whoa! Easy there! This is a personal matter between you and Jay.’
Freya is trembling. Julian didn’t see Jay’s face last night and the way it contorted with rage. If she hadn’t acted quickly, who knows what could have happened.
‘I wouldn’t come to you unless it was important. I honestly believe that Jay is a danger to me, and the rest of my female colleagues.’ There has to be justice, some sense of accountability.
Julian looks out of his office, taps his fingers on the side of his mug.
‘Don’t you trust me?’ she asks, her voice shaking.
Julian looks up and speaks slowly, as if she is a child. ‘Let me put this in perspective for you. I have a director who has been with the company for two and a half years and has been directly responsible for our massive growth in the market. Then, I have a young woman who has just joined the company who starts making baseless accusations against him, after they have been romantically involved. And yes, I do know that you two were romantically involved, Freya. I know everything that happens here. This is the same woman who has reported me to HR for alleged sexual harassment. What would you do in my shoes?’
‘My accusations are not baseless,’ she says, but she has already begun to feel overpowered.
‘Jay came into my office this morning to say that you lashed out at him last night. You were so intoxicated, apparently, that you fell as you attempted to punch him. He looks terrible – his eyes are red and swollen.’ From the pepper spray, Freya realizes.
Julian continues, anger edging
into his sing-song voice, ‘You don’t see him pressing charges, do you?’
Freya is so shocked, she cannot speak.
He sighs. ‘This is the problem with hiring millennials. You are too young to understand how to be in the world yet. Breakups happen, Freya, and it’s hard, but I’m not here to coach you out of it, and you can’t let it affect your work. Not everyone gets promoted as quickly as you were – I only did that because I trusted you. I did you a favor. Now, I’m not so sure.’
‘You know how hard I have worked, Julian, especially in the last few weeks.’
‘Hmmm . . . have you, though? Just in the last week you have taken time off for’ – he holds his fingers in exaggerated quotation marks – ‘being sick and have run randomly out of meetings with no explanation.’
It’s not fair, she wants to shout. What about all the late nights and early mornings? Or the weekends spent obsessing over getting the project just right? The light of his office is cold, his expression confrontational. It feels like her every effort has been forgotten.
‘This job means everything to me.’ She can feel her throat constrict as she utters the words. Freya has become used to being the top of the class. To be told her efforts have fallen short feels alien, wrong. Her cheeks are aflame.
Julian’s eyes seem to soften. ‘I know, which is why this behavior is so out of character for you. Storming in here and accusing one of my directors of assault? This is not the Freya I know.’
Freya feels so lonely, it’s as if it is burning into every inch of her skin.
He continues, ‘Tell me, Freya, what’s really going on here?’
She plays awkwardly with the button on her shirt. Legally, she does not have to tell him she is pregnant yet, right?
But as he stares at her, mouth half upturned in a patronizing smile, she gets the feeling that somehow, he is no longer on her side.
Chapter 86
Isla
Six weeks after the murder
Isla sits and waits for the disciplinary hearing to assemble. Two coffees down and she’s got more than a fleeting rush of jitters. The adrenaline and her are one, a flickering channel of light trying to occupy the space on the hard office seat.
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