The Suspects

by Katharine Johnson

  “We’ll cope.”

  “What about Ali? Don’t you have to ask her first?”

  Jess looked appalled. “No way. If she didn’t support me in this I wouldn’t be with her. You’re my sister. That tiny person in there is my niece or nephew – the closest I may ever get to having a baby of my own.”

  “Thanks. I can’t thank you enough.”

  She looked at me wonderingly. “Don’t be an idiot.”

  I felt a load had been lifted. It was only a solution to one part of my hideous situation but at least I knew now that I’d done one responsible thing and if the worst happened, the baby would at least be safe.

  Chapter Nineteen

  I told Donald about the pregnancy. Most people in the office had noticed by then and rumours were bound to have reached him. He went ballistic as I’d expected, spitting out phrases like “I’m disappointed,” and “you’ve thrown away a place another trainee would have given their right arm for” but at least he didn’t fire me. Once I’d convinced him I was serious about staying in the company he said I could take all four weeks holiday leave at once and he’d turn a blind eye to a week’s sick leave which should give me time to sort out child care. Zak said he’d take off a couple of weeks after me and with Xanthe at home all day now the prospect of being a single mother didn’t seem so lonely and frightening after all.

  In August a pleasure steamer called the Marchioness which had been hired for a birthday party collided with a dredger in the Thames and 51 people drowned. The fact they were young people enjoying a party hit us – although it inevitably led to another row when Zak said the tragedy wouldn’t have received the coverage it did if the people on the boat had been less posh and Stuart saying he should be ashamed of himself.

  On one of those sun-filled weekends I was coming back from a visit to my sister when I met Zak and Imogen who were also walking back up to the house from the station.

  “Em! Are you all right? God, it’s so good to see you.” Zak drew me into a crushing hug which took me by surprise.

  “All good,” I replied, “No news yet.” He was obviously keeping an eye on the dates. It couldn’t be much longer now. I was so heavy and uncomfortable I wanted it to be over but at the same time I wanted to put off the moment for as long as possible because I had no idea how I’d cope.

  “Aren’t you cold?” he asked, feeling my arms.

  I laughed. “Never, these days. Which is just as well – none of my coats fit anymore.”

  “We should get you a bigger one.”

  “Thanks but I’ve got my own hot water bottle right here,” I said, feeling my pregnancy bump.

  I could feel his heart thumping through his jacket. When I pulled back from his embrace I winced as Zak turned his head, revealing a black eye, and what looked like a carpet burn on his cheek and a swollen and bruised lip.

  “What happened to you?” But it was already dawning on me. “Oh wait – you told Chiara about the baby?”

  He grinned painfully. “She wasn’t over the moon.”

  “She did that to you?”

  I put my hand up to the scars. I’d suspected she had a temper and could only guess at the level of anger and hurt she must feel at finding out about the baby but hadn’t guessed she’d be violent.

  “She doesn’t believe there’s nothing still going on between us.”

  “I could talk to her if you think it will help.”

  He shook his head. “It definitely wouldn’t. Thanks, but there’s no point now – it’s over. She wanted me to move away with her and promise I’d never have anything to do with the child – or you.”

  “Oh God, Zak, I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged. “No, in a way it’s a relief. She scares me when she’s angry. It’s bad enough living with Stuart.”

  “She’s done this before?”

  His face flushed. “She usually goes for the areas that don’t show so much.”

  I didn’t know what to say except, “Why didn’t you tell us? And why did you put up with it?”

  He looked away. “Because when she wasn’t hitting me she was lovely to be with. And I thought after what I’d done – you know, with Bob and everything – I was lucky to be with her and didn’t deserve any better.”

  “You know that’s not true.”

  He took my hand. He seemed a bit agitated. “And in any case…”

  Imogen who’d gone on ahead turned round and shouted, “Are you two on a go-slow today? Let’s get some food.”

  “What were you saying?” I asked.

  “No, nothing.”

  We called in at Spud U Like and walked up the road together eating our baked potatoes and sharing stories from our weekends. Zak was still laughing about something as he pushed open the door to my room.

  “Shit.”

  He slammed it shut again. He wasn’t laughing anymore.

  “What is it? Let me see.”

  He was looking at me questioningly. Finally, he shrugged and stepped aside with a strange look on his face. Opening the door again, I stood trying to make sense of what I was looking at.

  Stuart was lying on my bed, his naked body twisting and straining at the silk scarves that held him. His mouth was stopped with a sock. His eyes bulged. His face was streaked with tears, but he was exhausted. A sweet, cloying smell filled the room blending with body odour and urine. His body was caked in something dark. It was a relief to discover it was chocolate. And there were snail trails of cream that had soured in the over-heated room.

  We stood filling the doorway, taking it in. How long had he been there like that? He looked at us wildly, desperate for our help but at the same time apparently resenting us for catching him in such an undignified state.

  “For God’s sake, Emily.”

  Imogen was the first to come to her senses. She picked up my dressing gown, threw it over Stuart’s midriff and started picking at the knots. “Scissors,” she demanded, snapping her hand out.

  I scrabbled around in my washbag, glad to have something to do. Stuart was groaning and fuming. Zak stood there looking incredulous and amused. Imogen attacked the knots with her teeth. Stuart’s ankles and wrists had angry, weeping sores where he’d obviously struggled for ages. I was calculating back to when we’d last seen him. Nobody had been in since Friday.

  “Look, I…” I began.

  “Don’t,” she said. “I don’t want to hear it.”

  “No but hang on. I didn’t do this.”

  “Emily. What part of ‘don’t’ are you not getting?”

  Zak ripped the sock from Stuart’s mouth. “This may seem an obvious question but what the hell were you up to?”

  Stuart brought up his freed left arm to nurse the bruised corners of his mouth. His arm shook and didn’t seem to be able to go where he wanted it to. His voice trembled with emotion and exhaustion and incredulity. He tried to talk but it came out as a rasp which turned into a coughing fit. Zak grabbed a bottle of water from the floor by my bed that was probably a few days old but in the circumstances that didn’t seem important, removed the top and held it out for Stuart who downed it in a few noisy gulps and pushed it back at us for a refill.

  I stumbled off to the bathroom, ran the tap and handed it back to him. I guessed he hadn’t eaten or drunk anything all weekend. Stuart looked round at us and sank his head back against the rails.

  “Xanthe,” he wheezed.

  “Xanthe. Why would she leave you like this?”

  It seemed a joke too far even for Xanthe. Stuart had always had a soft spot for her, but she must have had better acting skills than I’d thought to have got him to go along with this seduction scene. But to leave him for so long, knowing that we’d find him like that – I’d thought of her as mischievous but never cruel.

  “She said it would be fun,” he said rubbing his wrists and scrabbling at his skin.

  Selfishly, I couldn’t help thinking about the smears and flakes that were ending up on my sheets and my dressing gown right next to his
skin and whether they’d ever come out. I hadn’t planned on spending the night in the launderette.

  His whole body shuddered. “I wanted to see what it was like. It was fun at first. Then she said she’d be back in a moment and disappeared. I waited, thinking it was all part of the game. But ten minutes passed, and the house was silent. After half an hour it was obvious she wasn’t coming back. Then it started to really hurt. I thought my limbs were going to be starved of oxygen. I actually thought I was going to die.”

  A tear escaped down his reddened cheek. “I’m such an idiot.”

  “No you’re not,” I told him. “But why on earth hasn’t she come back? I can’t believe she’d leave you like this even for fun. Something must have happened.”

  “She’s gone to Sweden to see Erik,” said Imogen. “That Swedish PR guy she met at the trade fair. She told me on Friday she was going to the airport after work.”

  There was a silence as we digested this.

  “She could have called,” I said. “She could have at least let us know what she’d done, made sure someone would come and untie him. I know she’s forgetful but how can it slip your mind you’ve left someone tied to a bed?”

  And why for God’s sake had she chosen my bed? I didn’t say those last words, but Stuart must have read them in my expression.

  “I’m sorry about the bed. Mine has an upholstered headboard.”

  And Xanthe’s was a futon with no headboard at all. But she could have asked.

  “You don’t understand.” He clutched my arm. “She’s gone to the police. She knew I’d have stopped her going. This was all a ruse to incapacitate me. We need to get away. I thought you were them.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  As if I couldn’t guess.

  “She’s dropped us all in it, hasn’t she?” said Zak. “Gone and told them everything. She picked a time when most of us were out. She knew Stuart would stop her, so she found the only way she could to restrain him, given that she’s five foot nothing and you’re what, six two?”

  Stuart nodded weakly.

  “But she must have forgotten the rest of us were going to be away this weekend. I suppose she thought one of us would be back yesterday or this morning.”

  Never assume. It was what they drummed into us every day during our training. I couldn’t believe Xanthe would make such a basic mistake.

  “We should leave,” said Stuart.

  “That will only make us look guilty,” said Zak.

  “Which we are,” I reminded him.

  “Yes, but not of everything. They’ll pin the lot on us if we run now.”

  Chapter Twenty

  The police didn’t come that day or the next. But each morning we woke wondering if they would. Xanthe’s disappearance was a worry but my mind was taken off it a few days later when I went into labour as I was carrying some shopping back to the house. The others were all out at work but Mrs Parker next door must have spotted me hobbling into the house because she seemed to appear out of nowhere, made all the arrangements, waited with me until the contractions were close enough, put me in her car and drove me to the hospital.

  The birth was pretty horrendous in my opinion but the midwife recorded it as “standard” so I suppose it could have been a lot worse. But the baby was perfect. Her skin was paler than Zak’s but darker than mine. She had a lot of black hair and the cutest nose.

  From the moment I saw her I knew that I had someone in my life who I would always love unconditionally. This tiny person whose life had started in such an unpromising way, who was separate from me but a part of me. I just hoped I’d be able to stay with her long enough for her to remember me.

  Zak came as soon as he got Mrs Parker’s message at work. I could tell as soon as he took the baby in his arms he’d fallen in love with her as deeply as I had.

  “Do we have a name?”

  “I was thinking Olivia. Liv.”

  Because she was all about life – something wonderful that had come out of that terrible night.

  “Liv it is.” Zak looked down at her sleeping in his arms. His eyes glistened as he said, “This is the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to me. You know I never knew who my father was – or my mother either for most of the time I was growing up. I don’t want it to be like that for this little one. I’d do anything for her – and you. We may not be a conventional couple but we’re Livvy’s parents, you and I, and no one can take that away from us.”

  ***

  It’s amazing how such a tiny being can make everything else in your life seem unimportant. Those first few days with Livvy were all-consuming. Night ran into day and I became morbidly fascinated by how I managed to function with so little sleep. It was strangest during the day when everyone else was out. I felt even more cut off from reality than I had over the past few months. I wondered each day if Xanthe was going to turn up. She’d said she’d help with the baby after all. I also regretted telling her she could borrow my clothes that didn’t fit while I was pregnant because she’d obviously helped herself to my coat before she left and it was getting chilly. Who knew if I’d ever see that again?

  I was pushing the pram up Park Street a week later. It’s a very steep road that leads from the cathedral up to the university tower and pushing a pram up it is no easy task. I had my head down and was telling myself with grim determination that the burn in my thighs was better than a gym session when Chiara appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. The pavement was crowded, and the traffic was flying past and there was no way to avoid each other.

  She looked into the pram, noting how like Zak Livvy looked and asked rather stiffly how things were going.

  She looked horrified when I told her about Xanthe’s disappearance. “God, such a shock for you all. I’m sure they’ll find her though.”

  We walked in uncomfortable silence for a few moments. She was on her way back from a client meeting and her heels clicked on the paving. I caught sight of our reflection in shop windows as we passed and thought how elegant she looked compared to me in my old clothes and trainers.

  “I thought I’d found the perfect partner in Zak,” she said. “He was smart, funny, kind – and I loved the poems he wrote. But sometimes it was like coming up against a locked door. There was a barrier I knew I’d never get past. He’d never let me in. As though he had a guilty secret. He confided in you, though, didn’t he?”

  I felt her eyes searching mine but busied myself with adjusting Livvy’s blanket, so I wouldn’t have to answer.

  “When I discovered the baby was his, it hurt so much. Not that I want one – not yet anyway - I want to live my own life first. But he could have told me earlier. I understand why he didn’t, but it made me feel shut out – discovering there was something so huge in his life that he wouldn’t share with me. I know it happened before he met me. I know he wasn’t unfaithful, but he’s still deceived me for a long time. You all did.”

  “I’m sorry, Chiara.”

  “All I wanted was for Zak to put it in the past and come away with me. He said I was forcing him into a corner, giving him an impossible choice. He said there was nothing to discuss. So you see I couldn’t stay. Not in a relationship where I had to take third place. If I did I was just going to get more badly hurt.

  “I never understood his obsession with your house – it’s a nice enough place but really it’s you guys he couldn’t drag himself away from. I couldn’t compete.”

  “Honestly, we didn’t plan for any of this to happen.”

  She shrugged.

  “Perhaps I’d have been jealous of you anyway Emily. It’s not a looks thing, obviously, but something in the way his voice changes when he speaks to you. The shared looks, the way you finish each other’s sentences, the things that for God’s sake nobody but you two seem to find funny. I might seem confident, but I’ve never had what you have between you.”

  “What we have is probably different from what it seems.”

  She gave me an odd look.
“Whatever you say. But as it turns out, the baby was such a minor thing. It didn’t seem possible that he could have a worse secret than that.”

  She must have seen my expression because she said, “Yes, I know about the body in the basement. Xanthe broke down one evening and told me what you all did to that poor man. I couldn’t believe you could be so callous…”

  My heart stalled. How could Xanthe have done this to us? Why had she betrayed us? I tried to explain the circumstances, but she didn’t want to listen. When we reached a cross roads she went off in a different direction for her bus.

  She said good bye but as I turned to go she mumbled something like, “Say hi to Zak. You’re welcome to each other.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  November

  “And then there were three,” muttered Zak as we watched the police car slide away from the church yard after Xanthe’s funeral, weave through the yew trees and disappear out onto the road.

  A middle-aged man with a limp asked half-heartedly if we’d like to join the family for refreshments after the service but I got the feeling he was trying to make the directions as difficult as possible to follow. In any case, the last thing any of us felt like was standing around making small talk to a family Xanthe had clearly turned her back on years ago with gossip circulating about the tall, blond man who’d been bundled into a police car back at the church – hadn’t he been with us?

  And of course, we had things to talk about.

  The car we’d hired for the day stood in the lane by the church where we’d left it.

  “I suppose I could…” began Zak.

  “Don’t even think it,” Imogen said. “In any case, Stu’s got the key.”

  Not knowing the Essex village where Xanthe had grown up, we walked for ages past Camberwick Green-style village greens, duck ponds, farm fields, cute little thatched cottages and modern housing developments and even the odd windmill in the hope of finding some public transport. It was November. The wind cut across the low-lying land and the ground was thick with leaves. I was worrying about how long it would take to get back to Livvy and our next door neighbour who was looking after her.