Before I Say I Do

by Vicki Bradley

  ‘Did you talk to her about this?’ Loxton asked.

  ‘I tried . . . a few times. But love’s complicated.’ Webb shook her head.

  ‘You’ll get no arguments from me,’ Kowalski said.

  ‘We fell out about it,’ Webb said. ‘I had to drop it, otherwise I’d have lost her.’

  Loxton nodded and waited, but Webb didn’t fall for the silent trick again.

  ‘I don’t mean to be rude, but Julia’s on her own.’ Webb glanced at her watch. ‘I promised her I’d go straight over after this.’

  ‘Of course,’ Loxton said.

  ‘Please, don’t tell her what I’ve told you. I’m the closest thing to family she has right now. I would hate her to think I’d betrayed her.’

  ‘We understand,’ Kowalski said.

  ‘We’ll be gone soon,’ Loxton said. ‘We just need to look around. It’s routine.’

  ‘Routine?’ Webb’s frown deepened. ‘He’s not here. When you said earlier another woman . . . you don’t think it’s me, do you?’ She looked hurt. Loxton didn’t blame her. It wasn’t nice, but it was something they had to consider.

  ‘It’ll be a quick walk round,’ Loxton said. ‘There are set procedures for missing persons. Can we start upstairs?’

  Webb nodded but she didn’t look happy. Loxton climbed the creaking stairs with Kowalski behind her. Webb followed them both.

  The house was a two-up two-down Victorian terrace – not bad at all for a woman in her early thirties. The main bedroom at the front of the house was trapped in a time warp, though. A queen-sized bed dominated the room, leaving little space for other furniture. There was a dark dressing table with an ancient oval mirror parked in front of the bay windows. Upon it was an old jewellery box. Loxton couldn’t help but shiver. She expected a ghost to drift past at any moment.

  ‘My aunt left me the house in her will.’ It was as if Webb had read her mind. She paused by the old jewellery box, opening the lid and listening to the tinkling music. ‘She didn’t have any children. I was like a daughter to her. People think I’m lucky to have this house, but I miss my aunt every day. She was always there for me and she had this brilliant sense of humour.’ Webb smiled briefly and then realized who she was talking to. She closed the lid on the jewellery box, swallowed hard.

  Loxton nodded. She knew what it was like to lose someone you loved and not be able to move on. The whole house was a shrine and it seemed Webb was unable to change a thing.

  ‘This is my room.’ Webb showed Loxton into the smaller rear bedroom.

  A practical wardrobe and matching chest of drawers stood by the far wall. A framed photo of a handsome man was on the bedside table.

  ‘My boyfriend, James,’ Webb smiled when she looked at the photo of him, and Loxton felt a pang of jealousy. It had been a long time since she’d felt like that about a man. The last one had broken her heart.

  Expensive stilettos were lined up against the wall along with some plain black ballerina pumps. There was a single bed shoved in the far corner with a green-and-white spotted patchwork quilt thrown over. One patch in the corner had been replaced on the quilt; it was sky blue with white dots. It reminded Loxton of the pink quilt her mother had made for her when she was a child.

  ‘You said this is your room?’ Loxton was surprised by the single bed.

  ‘I’ve been meaning to get a double for ages, but I’ve just been so busy. I work such long hours, there’s never any time for shopping.’

  Loxton nodded in sympathy, knowing what that was like. ‘That’s a very pretty quilt.’

  ‘My aunt made it for me when I was a baby.’ Webb smiled at the memory. ‘Every year she’d add more patches, so it grew with me. She tried to teach me, but I was hopeless at sewing.’

  ‘My mum made me one,’ Loxton said. ‘I was useless at sewing, too.’

  ‘I spilt cola on that corner when I was a teenager.’ Webb pointed at the replaced patch and shook her head at the memory. ‘The stain wouldn’t come out. My aunt had to stich a new patch on; I couldn’t do it myself. I remember being devastated because we couldn’t find the same colour, like it was the end of the world. Silly really looking back, but it’s the only thing she ever made for me, and I love it.’

  Loxton opened the wardrobe but there was nothing unusual in there, just women’s clothing, some still in dry-cleaning bags. She peered under the bed. Plastic storage boxes underneath stuffed with towels and bedding.

  Loxton struggled back down the steep ancient stairs, wondering if Webb’s aunt had ended her days falling down them. Webb followed close behind her.

  As Webb and Loxton entered the living room, Loxton saw Kowalski shoving papers back into the sideboard drawer. He had the good grace to look embarrassed.

  Webb peered around Loxton and her mouth fell open. ‘What are you doing down here?’

  ‘Sorry, just went into house-search mode.’ Kowalski cringed. ‘We need to get going, Alana. Something’s come up. Thank you for your time, Ms Webb, it’s appreciated.’ Kowalski slipped out of the front door fast.

  ‘Thank you again, Miss Webb. Apologies for my colleague – he’s used to drug raids, not missing persons cases.’ Loxton smiled at Webb apologetically as she left.

  ‘What were you doing?’ she hissed at Kowalski as they hurried down the path, Webb staring after them.

  ‘I thought you’d be a little bit longer upstairs finishing off a “Loxton search”.’ Kowalski made quotation marks with his fingers. ‘Anyway, that doesn’t matter. I’ve had two missed calls from Winter. He never calls twice. Something’s happening.’

  Loxton’s mobile began to ring. She fished it out of her pocket: Winter.

  ‘You need to divert to Surrey Docks.’ Winter was talking quickly. Something had excited him. In police work, that never boded well.

  ‘Why?’ Loxton’s heart sank.

  ‘Uniform are there. I think they’ve found Mark Rowthorn. It’s not looking good.’

  ‘Understood.’ Winter hung up on her. She felt a sadness settle on her, making her feel physically heavier.

  Kowalski was watching her carefully.‘What’s happened?’

  ‘We’re going to Surrey Docks. Winter thinks Rowthorn’s turned up.’ She handed him the keys and climbed into the passenger seat.

  ‘Kurwa,’ Kowalski’s clenched fist slammed into the steering wheel.

  ‘I know,’ she said.

  They both knew that’s where the bodies washed up.

  Chapter 13

  Julia Talbot

  Tuesday

  The Night Jar Bar was quiet, but then I supposed it would be at 6pm on a Tuesday. It was next to a nightclub of the same name, which was promoted as an exclusive club. I scanned the room but couldn’t see anyone in a green dress. I ordered a gin and tonic to steady my nerves and sat in the far corner, hoping Chantelle wouldn’t spot me straight away. I wanted to at least figure out if she was alone.

  I’d checked every social network site I could think of, but I hadn’t found anything more about her, which was worrying. She had to be a reporter, about to splash my face across tomorrow’s tabloids as the weeping fiancée. I should have known better than to come here, but my desperation to find out what she knew had got the better of me.

  I forced myself to stop checking Facebook Messenger every few seconds.

  Then the thought hit me: I was here on my own, and no one knew where I was.

  My stomach knotted in panic. What if it really was some macabre nutter? What had I been thinking? I could get up and leave – but then I’d never know.

  Each table was garnished with a trendy square glass vase filled with dark red snapdragons. The flowers reminded me of childhood summers playing in my back garden. The time before it had all gone wrong. I opened up a flower and let it snap shut.

  ‘Jenny?’ My old name. A man’s voice.

  I looked up so fast I was dizzy for a moment. His voice was different but the same.

  Jonny.

  It was like he’d been stre
tched out. He towered above me. His dark blue eyes were the same, but there was little else left of the boy he’d been. I couldn’t speak. I was frozen to the spot. My two worlds were colliding and I felt like I was between them, being smashed to pieces. Of course it was him who sent the message.

  I tried to get past him, to run, but he blocked my way, putting his hands out in front of him, silently telling me to sit back down again.

  A warning.

  I sank onto the chair. This man was dangerous. I could never escape that day and now Jonny was stood in front of me, wanting payback. I’d always known this day would come. I felt my blood turn cold and I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry and tight.

  I couldn’t see a weapon on him. I checked the bar, but no one was paying attention to us.

  ‘Why are you here?’ My voice sounded strained. Hoarse.

  ‘Just to talk, that’s all.’ He sat down opposite me. ‘I know you think I did it. But I’m innocent and I want to prove it to you.’

  ‘You were convicted in court. Tell me why you’re really here.’ I was surprised by my own bravery.

  ‘Because you framed me,’ Jonny said. ‘We both know that.’

  ‘I didn’t frame you.’ If I shoved the table into him would it give me time to run? ‘You’re crazy. Please—’

  ‘I know what you did,’ Jonny said. ‘And I get it. You thought it was me. You wanted me to rot in prison. So you planted the ring with my blood on it onto Rachel’s body to make it look like it was me. I didn’t blame you for what you did. The police were desperate to pin it on me. They must have pressured you. Except it wasn’t me, Jenny.’

  I could still picture the purple crystal of my ring glinting at me even now. My favourite colour back then. I’d thrown away anything purple after that day, refused to wear it. I’d never tried to frame him. I tried to think what he was talking about, but everything back then had been so confused, the chaos of tall policemen in the house and determined reporters following me to school. Everything had been a blur. ‘You aren’t meant to come near me. It’s on your life licence. You’ll go back to prison and never get out this time.’ I had my bag on my lap. I inched my hand into it, searching for my mobile. If I could just find it, then I could dial the police.

  ‘I may as well be in prison.’ Jonny shrugged, his eyes angry. ‘I can’t get a proper job. If I have kids, they’ll take them away from me. I’m deemed too big of a risk. I need to clear my name. That’s why I’m here. I just want a life – that’s all.’

  ‘Clear your name?’ He couldn’t prove he was innocent. He was lying and I didn’t know why. I clenched my mobile so tightly in my hand I thought it might break.

  ‘Let me help you find Mark.’ There was an agitated energy in him and he kept tapping his finger, as if trying to keep himself calm. ‘Prove I’ve never meant you any harm.’

  ‘How can you help me find Mark?’

  Jonny scanned the room and lowered his voice. ‘I have ways of finding people. Ways the police don’t have. I do background checks for this guy, make sure his clients are who they say they are. I find out every single thing about them. If I can help you find Mark, then you tell the police what really happened that day in the woods with Rachel. Tell them it wasn’t me. That you planted the ring. I would have grounds to appeal. They would clear me. Don’t you want to know what really happened back then?’

  I couldn’t let him go there. He’d been found guilty, justice had been served, and I’d somehow managed to escape all of it. I couldn’t get dragged back into a past I’d spent my life escaping. He was lying. ‘I know what happened. You were convicted of murder.’

  I wouldn’t let this destroy my future with Mark. He didn’t know about any of this. How would he feel if he found out I’d been lying to him for years? I’d paid enough. None of it was meant to have happened. She wasn’t even supposed to be there.

  ‘Jenny, there was someone else in the woods that day. Don’t you remember? When I ran away I saw him, a figure running. There was a rough sleeper in the woods. It was him. You must have seen him?’

  There’d been no one else. ‘It was just us two, Jonny. You and me.’

  He shook his head in frustration. ‘Maybe you didn’t see him, but I did. The police wouldn’t listen to me. Look, if I can’t find Mark, you’ll never hear from me again.’ Jonny bent towards me, desperate now. ‘You can go back to thinking I’m a monster. But if I help you find Mark, then maybe you could think about helping me. That’s all. No strings attached. Do you know anything about where Mark could be? What’s happened to him?’

  ‘I want to leave.’ The door was just a few metres away.

  ‘Look, I know you’ve tried hard to run away from it all. I don’t want to have to drag you back there, but it’s destroyed my life.’ He’d started to tap his foot, his leg jiggling in agitation. ‘I want to go straight, Jenny. Just give me one chance to prove that it wasn’t me. I need this.’

  I pulled my jacket closer around me despite the warmth of the bar. Seeing him brought it all back. ‘Have you done something to Mark? Have you hurt him?’ He was so much bigger than me.

  ‘You knew me back then. I was just a normal kid. I would never have done that. Jenny, use your head for once. Stop listening to what everyone else has told you must have happened and think. There was a man in the woods that day.’ His blue eyes bored into mine.

  I sat dazed for a moment. This wasn’t the adult Jonny I’d feared all these years, a violent thug, his face ugly with hate and murder. This Jonny was agitated but controlled, if a little desperate and sad. He had a crew cut, there was stubble across his jaw; he was handsome. He didn’t look like a killer. He looked like the Jonny I remembered, the Jonny from before.

  ‘I’ve got to go.’ I pulled the strap of my bag over my shoulder, kept my mobile in my hand, and staggered past him. I was terrified, but I had to keep going.

  ‘Wait.’ He chased after me. ‘Jenny, just wait.’

  A few other patrons turned to look, but quickly dismissed us as just another drunk couple having a domestic. I rushed onto the pavement, people having to move out of my way, desperate to get some space between Jonny and me. He had to dodge past a man, jumping into the road, just to keep pace with me.

  ‘If I’d done something to Mark, why would I come and speak to you? That would be crazy!’ he shouted.

  I spun round and faced him, my hands balled into fists. ‘How did you know he was missing? And how did you know he was connected to me?’

  People pushed past us. He looked around and spotted a closed shop entrance. He pulled me under its awnings, out of the way. I shrugged his hand off my arm, gripping my mobile tightly.

  ‘Like I said, my job is to find information on people. When I was released, I needed to find you, to speak to you. Your new name was good, but Kayleigh wasn’t as careful as you. I knew if I found her there’d be a good chance I’d find you. I checked out your life. Your fiancé. I didn’t want to approach you blind. If I wanted to hurt you, I would have done it by now and you’d never have known it was me. I saw you’d set up a Facebook page because your fiancé had gone missing and I thought this was my chance to show you I’m not who you think I am.’

  I wrapped my arms around myself. I’d thought I was hidden, safe, but all that time he’d known where I was.

  ‘I’m not here to hurt you.’ He clenched his fists as if he was frustrated. His voice became hard. ‘I’m risking everything by speaking with you. I need to prove the police got it wrong back then.’

  The rage inside me burned but I didn’t know what to do with it. He was trying to play me. This felt like some elaborate game of revenge. Or did he mean what he said? Was he innocent?

  ‘You can get me on Facebook Messenger. I’ll let you know if I find anything. If you want, you can call the police right now. I’ll be on the CCTV meeting with you. I’ve breached my licence. You can have me locked away again to serve out the rest of my sentence. You’ve got all the power, Jenny. I’m not messing with you.’<
br />
  ‘I don’t want anything to do with you. And if you make contact again, I’ll call the police.’ He must know I would never go to the police. I didn’t want my old life catching up with me. I’d worked tirelessly to stop Mark from knowing who I really was. If I told the police I was linked to Jonny, the past would be splashed across the papers within twenty-four hours, and the future I’d dreamed of would be over before it had begun.

  He pulled a packet of cigarettes out of his jeans pockets, lit one and took a drag. It was the same brand we’d smoked all those years ago. It was as if we were behind the bike sheds in school again, catching a precious ten minutes together.

  ‘Want one?’ He offered the packet to me.

  ‘I don’t smoke.’ I pushed my hair behind my ears, my mind whirring, trying to figure out the man in front of me.

  He laughed and pulled out a cigarette anyway, lit it using the one from his mouth and offered it to me. ‘Look, no one can blame you for having one cigarette right now. You look like you need it.’

  I shook my head. He shrugged, stubbing the offered cigarette out on the wall and pocketing it.

  ‘The police will be watching you,’ Jonny said. ‘Be careful. They get a bit het up on spouses. And trust me, sometimes they get the wrong person.’

  ‘You need to stay away from me.’ I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I felt sick with him stood so close to me. All the old feelings of hate and disgust swimming in my stomach. I tried to figure out whether he was threatening me, or whether this was still part of his act of pretending to help.

  ‘Laters,’ he said as he walked away, and he glanced back over his shoulder at me, nodding a last goodbye.

  This was the start of something dangerous. He was out to get me, I was sure of it. And I couldn’t even go to the police for help. I’d had so many nightmares about Jonny Cane over the years. Him stood over Rachel, blood dripping from his hands. Him watching me as I smashed Rachel’s skull in. Sometimes the dream was of him swinging a rock at my face. I would wake up dripping with sweat just before the moment of impact, my arms thrust forward, shielding my face.