I Will Break You (Best International Thrillers)

by Daniela Arnold

  Charly smiled. “Why don’t you put your toys on the free chair next to you, then you can eat in peace.” She winked at Jody. “I cooked something today that I would have sold my grandma for as a kid.”

  Jody widened her eyes in horror.

  Charly raised her hands defensively. “That is only a figure of speech, Jody.” She took one of the plates and put a portion of spaghetti with butter and Marmite on it, the sprinkled grated cheese on top. “I hope you like it as much as I do.” She set the plate on the table in front of Jody.

  The little girl’s eyes shone at the sight of the noodles. Then a shadow flitted across her face. “This is Mama’s favorite food.”

  Charly frowned and took a portion of spaghetti. Then she sat down opposite Jody at the kitchen table. “I know. Your mom and I sometimes cooked it ourselves when we were kids. Or at least we tried.” She smiled at the memory. “A couple of times the noodles were so hard they cracked when we chewed them, and the sauce was so salty it made our tongues tingle. But we never let on anything, we always ate the whole pot until we were nauseous.” Her eyes misted. “I loved your mama so much, Jody. You know that?”

  Jody nodded.

  “I love you very much, too.”

  The girl pulled her little mouth into a shy smile. “I like you too.”

  Charly felt a warm feeling settle over her and knew at that moment she had taken Jody into her heart, wishing for nothing more than that the child could lead a happy life.

  Charly had seen how lovingly Alice had treated Jody, how well they got along, she wondered again why she was here at all. Why had Imogen not seen what she saw: that Jody loved Alice? And that Alice was completely infatuated with the little girl? Wouldn’t it have been better if Imogen had given custody to her sister? She thought about what Alice had told her, that Imogen had not been herself anymore, that she had suffered from panic attacks and delusions, had not been able to think clearly. Had it been this state in which her former best friend had decided that Charly should take care of Jody? And if so, could that decision be taken seriously? She pushed her plate aside. She had lost her appetite. Imogen hadn’t told her sister about a possible affair with her husband. Nor had she told her sister about a previous crisis in her marriage. The question was now, why hadn’t she told her about it? Did she not trust Alice one hundred percent? Or had she not considered it important? Was it perhaps because she was in such a bad state of mind and perceived things around her in a strange way? Had there been no marital problems at all? And also no affair? Had she just imagined everything and told Jake some kind of fantasy? Charly closed her eyes. What made Imogen think there was a connection between her past and what had happened to Adam? Was that also imagination? It couldn’t be any different, could it? After all, she herself was a part of Imogen’s past. They had grown up together in Newhaven, had kept in touch for some time after Charly moved away. Charly gasped. Had something happened in Imogen’s life afterwards that she didn’t know about? Was that why she hadn’t known about Megan’s death? Maybe Jake had gotten confused and thought she was still living here when Megan died. That’s what it must have been like. Megan had only died after she had moved, so she didn’t remember it. But why had a dead woman frightened Imogen? The more Charly thought about it, the more sure she became that Alice was probably right. Imogen must indeed have been ill. The loss of her husband, the gossip from the locals, the pressure from his mother—all this had probably led to Imogen going completely crazy.

  “Can I watch Ariel?”

  Jody’s voice tore Charly from her thoughts. The little girl had eaten all but two noodles sticking to the edge of her plate and was looking up at Charly expectantly.

  “Sure, go on into the living room, I’ll be right there.”

  When she was alone in the kitchen, she picked up her train of thought. Was she right in her suspicions? Alice was absolutely certain that Imogen had been mentally ill, but could she trust her? Charly remembered her face, those sad green eyes, the trembling of her lower lip whenever she talked about Imogen, the love she had for Jody. Why would Alice lie to her? A blind man could see how much Imogen had meant to her. How Imogen felt, Charly could only guess. Both women had only had each other. They had been each other’s only support. It was also a fact that Alice and her sister had connected something to which her own relationship with Imogen, at least in the time before her death, was far from comparable. She forced herself to think about something else, and put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher.

  “Are you coming?” Jody called from the living room.

  Charly pursed her lips. The girl was right. She had to stop brooding about the past, where nothing could be changed, anyway. She had to face the fact that she had failed as a friend. And she had to face it all the way. She had not been there for Imogen for a long time. She hadn’t known her as well as she thought she had. Nevertheless, Imogen had placed so much trust in her and had given her custody of her daughter, and that was what she should now focus on. She had to fulfill the last wish of her dear friend and be there for Jody. Maybe she could at least make amends to herself for abandoning Imogen.

  Dazed, Charly jolted from sleep. She stared into the darkness in confusion, registered that she was lying in bed in the guest room. Slowly, everything came back to her mind. She had spent a nice evening with Jody and watched a cartoon with her. Afterwards she had given her a bath and put her to bed. Jody had persuaded Charly to read her another story, and of course she had been willing to grant her wish. Later, Charly had taken a relaxing bath and checked her cell phone messages and emails afterwards. She had received the confirmation of her dismissal from her boss, including a remark about how absolutely unacceptable her behavior was to him. Andreas had also sent her a message in which he insulted her and threatened her that she should prepare herself for something when she was back in Germany. She hadn’t reacted to either of the messages and decided to inform her ex-boss after her return about the impossible behavior of his son. She’d planned to end the evening with a glass of wine and a movie until she felt that strange tingling sensation again. It started on her scalp, stretched over her neck and down her back to the tips of her toes. A tingling sensation that she had always felt even in Germany and that told her she was being watched. She had taken a sleeping pill from Imogen’s bathroom cabinet, had gone to bed, and a little later she was fast asleep. Until that strange noise had woken her. It sounded like a mischievous giggle that came closer and closer, a horrible noise that made Charly’s neck hair stand up. She flipped back the blanket and raced to Jody’s room. Maybe the little girl had woken up and Charly had misinterpreted the sound in her own waking process.

  Yet when she carefully opened the child’s bedroom door a crack, she saw that Jody was fast asleep.

  Charly’s perception was playing tricks on her. Certainly the excitement of the last few days was responsible for this and Andreas, who scared the hell out of her. Could it be that he was hanging around somewhere around here and watching her from the garden in the evening? On her way back to bed she passed Imogen and Adam’s bedroom. She was confused when she found the light on and the closet door wide open. Her heart racing, Charly entered and looked around. When her gaze landed on the photos lying all over the floor, she blinked in surprise. She went down to her knees, picked one of them up, and froze. Panic shot through her, making her hand shake. She picked up another one of the photographs from the floor and studied it, stunned. Then another one. All the pictures showed Imogen and Adam on their wedding day. But it wasn’t the pictures themselves that caused Charly’s heart to overflow with fear. With trembling fingers she stroked the beaming face of her friend. Or rather, what was still recognizable. Charly felt her stomach cramping. Could Jody be responsible for this? No. There was nobody in the house but the two of them. Since it hadn’t been her, that only left Jody. But why would the little girl deface the wedding photos of her parents by scribbling black felt-tip pen on her mother’s face?

  Chapter 10
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  Newhaven, June 2015

  The next morning Charly felt broken. After the thing with the scribbled on photos she had rolled around sleeplessly for hours and had only dozed off completely at dawn. She had had that dream again where she was standing at the edge of the cliff, only this time she hadn’t let herself fall of her own free will but had been pushed. Charly wondered what her subconscious was trying to tell her through the transformation of this nightmare. Did the dream indicate an impending danger? Did it speak for her doubts about Imogen’s suicide?

  Or was it only a meaningless stringing together of abstruse thought processes?

  Charly sipped her coffee. Then she grimaced. She had used three times as much coffee grounds as normal and the brew tasted the same. Bitter and much too strong.

  She checked her watch. Just before nine. Could she risk calling Imogen’s mother-in-law in London? She had found out the phone number from the information desk and had been wondering ever since whether she should dare or not. She picked up the cordless phone and dialed the number, listened to the ringtone, and jolted when Linda Shaw’s cold and nasally voice came over the line.

  “Sorry to disturb you,” Charly quickly explained, “I am Charlotte Beck, Imogen has given me —”

  “I know who you are, my dear,” Linda interrupted curtly. “What do you want?”

  Charly cleared her throat. “I wanted to ask you something… Imogen’s suicide, it all seems strange to me. First Adam, then Imogen. I don’t know, haven’t you ever wondered what might be behind it? And who?”

  “What are you trying to say?”

  “According to Jake Bishop, Adam was having an affair and his and Imogen’s marriage was on the brink of divorce. Imogen told him herself. Alice, however, is sure that this is not true because Imogen never mentioned it. However, Imogen and her half-sister had not known each other for very long, so I don’t know how she would know if Imogen told her the whole truth. That is also the reason for my call. I need to know if it is true. Did Adam have an affair? And were there problems in their marriage?”

  Linda Shaw sighed heavily. “Why is that important? Adam and Imogen are dead, so nobody will ever know what really happened.”

  “I am trying to reconstruct what happened, and to do that I need to know whether Adam had an affair or not. And whether Imogen was mentally ill, as everyone claims.”

  Linda Shaw laughed bitterly. “Did you know that I never liked my daughter-in-law?”

  Charly paused, then said, “Her lawyer mentioned something of the sort. Imogen herself never spoke to me about it.”

  “I found Imogen to be a moody and imperious person. She had my Adam wrapped around her finger, harassed him, forced him to move to that dump with her.”

  Charly jumped into the breach, attempting to defend her dead friend. “Her mother, Grace, has fallen seriously ill. Imogen wanted to be with her, to take care of her.”

  Linda didn’t go for it. “She made my Adam’s life hell when the pregnancy didn’t work out. I could also well imagine that in reality she was the one having an affair.”

  “I don’t think so,” Charly blurted. “Imogen would never have betrayed Adam.”

  “My Adam was a good boy,” Linda said quietly. “He loved his wife, would never have been unfaithful to her. I’d stake my life on that. Imogen was the one with the loose mouth, with the rampant lifestyle before she met my son.”

  Charly remained silent. What Linda Shaw had said was true. Before Imogen and Adam became a couple, Imogen had not been a child of sadness. She had gained experience, tried a number of men, lived her life.

  “Do you not find it strange that first Adam died and then Imogen?”

  “The police are on the case, and they will eventually find out why my boy had to die, I’m sure of it. As for Imogen, I wouldn’t be surprised if she had something to do with Adam’s death. Maybe she killed herself because she could no longer look at herself in the mirror. It could be that guilt drove her insane.”

  The woman’s voice sounded hard and ice cold.

  Charly’s eyes narrowed. “Aren’t you at all sorry that Jody, after her father, has now lost her mother, too?”

  For a moment there was silence on the line. Then Linda started to laugh. It was a laughter full of bitterness and hatred. “She was the one who decided to leave her child behind alone. It was she who jumped. This is so typical of Imogen. Always choosing the easiest way. What mother does that—for whatever reason?” She cleared her throat. “And what mother leaves her child to a stranger with whom she happened to be friends decades ago? Do you have any experience with children at all?” Linda apparently didn’t expect an answer, because she continued before Charly could respond. “That’s why I will do everything I can to get the court to award custody of Jody to me. She is my granddaughter, the daughter of my dead son. I will not give up until I have her with me.”

  Charly timidly knocked on the door, holding Jody with her other hand. The little girl was jumping around excitedly and humming a song. After a brief moment of decency Charly pushed the door handle down and entered. The desolation of the room made her shiver. Bare white walls, a bed with a guard rail that dominated the room, a small sitting area consisting of a wing chair and an occasional table, and a tiny bathroom hidden behind a papier mâché partition. Shocked, Charly looked up at the older woman, who groaned and lifted herself out of the armchair. Grace White, Imogen’s mother. Her blonde shoulder-length hair was streaked with gray threads and her once bright blue eyes sat in dark cavities, looking at her in a way that made Charly pause. Empty. The word hit the mark. Grace White’s gaze was lifeless. Nevertheless, she smiled and held out a wrinkled, scrawny hand to Charly.

  “Sister Patricia, how nice to see you,” she said and sank back into the pillows.

  “It’s me, Charly,” she said and smiled at the woman. “I brought someone with me who was longing for you.” She nudged Jody toward her grandmother and whispered “Give Grandma a kiss.”

  Jody just stood there looking at her grandma with eyes wide open, and sat on the floor to play with her doll. Charly could not blame the child. The atmosphere in this room was oppressive, sad, and devastating in a way that made Charly momentarily breathless.

  “Oh, how rude of me. Would you like a drink?” Grace flashed a smile, reaching up to her eyes and seeming to wipe away the dull veil. Charly opened her mouth when the woman’s expression changed. “My little Charlotte.” Then a cheerful laugh. “What brings you to the island?”

  Charly came closer and crouched down in front of Grace, taking the old lady’s hand. “I’m here for Jody. She needs me now that Imogen…” She choked back a sob.

  Grace’s smile changed, became sad, then her eyes filled with tears. “Her funeral was beautiful, just as she would have wished. But you weren’t there… why didn’t you come to accompany my daughter on her final journey?”

  Charly gulped. “Because I did not know. Edward Clark contacted me a month after her death. No one informed me. I’m sorry.” She burst into tears. “Why did she do this, Grace? Why did she just throw her life away?”

  The old woman lowered her eyes. “I would give my life to get an answer to that question.”

  Charly wiped the tears from her face. “The reason for my visit is… did Imogen tell you anything about Adam having an affair? Or that their marriage was on the brink of breaking up because of it?”

  Grace pondered for a while. “Yes, but that was quite a long time ago. As far as I remember, Imogen had forgiven him for the slip.”

  “Do you happen to know who this other woman was?”

  “My daughter never talked about that. I don’t even think she knew it herself.”

  “Alice claims that Imogen never told her about a marital crisis. She is sure that Imo was afraid of something and was very sick. Mentally ill.”

  “Alice?” said Grace. “Who is Alice?”

  “Imogen’s half-sister, don’t you know anything about her?”<
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  Grace frowned. “Oh, Alice, right. Imogen told me they had contact with each other.”

  “Why didn’t you ever tell Imogen that she had a sister?”

  “I only found out myself after my husband died. It was quite a shock, I must confess. The fact that my husband kept it from me for so many years, that he had a mistress and a daughter with her… that was hard. I did a little research and found out he had been paying child support for years behind my back, and that Alice even wrote him letters.” She shook her head. “He never opened them, let alone answered them, he just hid them from me. I don’t think he ever saw his daughter. A shame.”

  “Then why hadn’t you told Imogen yet?”

  Grace picked her head up. “Her father is dead, and he was her hero. Her one and only. How could I have told my daughter that her father had a child with whom he wanted nothing to do? That he cheated and lied to us for years?”

  Charly nodded and tried to look understanding, although she felt completely different about it inside. “And you, Grace? Have you made contact with Alice? Or with her mother?”

  The woman pressed her lips into a firm line. “No. I thought about it… then pushed the thought far away. This thing was none of my business. Alice was none of my business. I just… I couldn’t.”

  Grace picked nervously at the hem of her sweater and sniffled. When Charly looked into her face, she noticed that the woman was back in her own world. Disappeared into the haze of her Alzheimer’s. She nudged Jody, who was completely engrossed in her game. “Say goodbye to your grandma.”

  The girl climbed onto Grace’s lap, and hugged the old woman. Then she crawled back down, picked up her doll, and ran to the door. Charly followed her, catching her by the arm just before she could escape from the room. She turned to Grace one last time. “Thank you so much. You have helped me a lot.”

  The woman lifted her head, stared at Charly. “Nice of you to visit me, my dear. Take care of Jody, you hear?”