by Adam Croft
Jess’s face has changed.
‘That’s if he did get on the plane.’
42
‘Let’s think this through,’ Jess says. ‘Talk me through it. When did he leave? When did you see the email?’
‘I saw it as soon as it came through,’ I said. ‘Tom had already gone. He left for the airport last night. We had a bit of an argument.’
‘Can I ask what about?’
I shrug. ‘I don’t even know myself. I was blind drunk. We were at my best friend’s wedding. I marked the email as unread as soon as I’d read it, so I wouldn’t miss it in the morning. As far as he’s aware, I passed out drunk and never saw it.’
‘Okay, good. That’s good. If he thinks he’s got there before you, we should be safe.’
‘He’s going to know something’s wrong when he can’t get hold of me, though. If my phone’s off, he’ll twig.’
‘He’ll know your phone’s off, yeah. But if you two had a bust up last night, that’ll explain it. Especially if he’s expecting you to be sleeping off a raging hangover today. In any case, there’s not a whole lot he can do from Japan.’
I see what she’s saying, but there’s something telling me I shouldn’t be so sure.
‘Christ, I wish I knew where to start,’ Jess says. ‘Basically, Tom and I met on a dating app. He knew what I did for a living, but I think he saw that as a challenge. People like Tom get a kick out of things like that. The problem for him was that I’ve got quite a strong personality, so he didn’t get away with it. He tried to get me to come off social media, told me it wasn’t a good idea with my job. But we’re trained on things like that. He gave me the sob story about Erin and tried to weasel his way into moving in with me. Told me he was sofa surfing and living in some place his boss had put him up in. But I wasn’t falling for any of it.’
As Jess speaks, I feel so foolish. It’s the exact same story, except I fell for every single piece of it.
‘Then one day he tried getting physical. He’d asked me again about moving in with me and I said I didn’t want to. He flew into a rage and I told him to fuck off out of my house. I said I’d warned colleagues about him and if anything happened he’d be banged up. He hadn’t done anything illegal, but I told him if I ever saw his face or heard from him again I’d make sure he went down. He did get back in touch a few days later. He was waiting for me when I came out of the supermarket. But by then I’d done some digging at work and found out a few things about him. When I told him what I’d discovered, he went as white as a sheet. I told him to fuck off out of Bodmin, out of Cornwall and never to come back, or I’d make sure everyone knew exactly who he was and what he’d done.’
I realise I’m holding my breath, anticipating what’s going to come next. I don’t want to hear it, but I know I need to.
‘Tell me,’ I say, my voice almost a whisper.
‘Look, I’m meant to be able to spot this stuff in people. It’s my job. Because of that, I presumed I was safe. I mean, who’d try this sort of shit with a detective? But he’d been trying to alienate me from my friends and family, causing money issues. I had letters and emails go missing. Same as you.’
‘Tell me who he is. What he’s done.’
Jess takes a deep breath, then lets it out. ‘He told you his parents were dead, yes?’
I nod.
‘They’re not. They’re alive. They live locally. Down towards Polperro. He had a falling out with them years ago. Didn’t have a great childhood, apparently. They couldn’t pin him down and he just went off the rails. Blamed them for it. Then he meets Erin.’
Jess stops talking for a moment and seems to be trying to compose herself.
‘What happened with Erin?’ I ask.
Jess looks out of the window and shakes her head slowly. It looks like she’s trying not to cry.
‘She didn’t leave him, Grace. She didn’t take their daughter away. They died.’
43
I don’t know what I should be feeling, and I certainly don’t know what I do feel. My immediate instinct is to feel sorry for Tom, for the man I love. But I know there’s more to it than meets the eye.
‘What happened?’ I ask.
‘According to what I could find out, it was a car accident. A hit and run. Tom had been in the pub drinking all afternoon and had rung Erin for a lift home. She’d put the baby in the car and they’d driven out to collect him. They were on a road just outside town when it happened. Their car was found in a ravine. They were both pronounced dead at the scene. They found the other car later that night, but it had been burnt out. The driver was never found.’
‘When?’ I ask. But I think I already know the answer.
‘A couple of years back. The same time he claims they walked out and left him. The same time he says his parents died in a car accident. His parents didn’t die, Grace. Erin and the baby did. Tom couldn’t process that, so he twisted it in his mind. He couldn’t bear the thought that they’d just been taken from him in such a totally random and unexplainable way. Maybe he felt guilty that they’d only been on that road that night because of him, because they were picking him up because he’d gone out and got blind drunk again. In his mind, he twisted it so that never happened. They’d just walked out on him and left him. All of a sudden he was the victim. And he got to explain his parents away at the same time. If there were any two people he wanted to die in a horrible accident, it was them. He invented a whole new reality. One that suited him.’
I feel my breathing start to get more and more shallow as my heart begins to race.
‘I… I don’t understand.’
‘Neither did I. Not for a long time. But the more and more I look into it, the more it makes sense. Don’t forget, it’s my job to deal with things like this. I see disturbed people all the time. People who live in alternate realities because they can’t handle the true one.’
This is too much. Too much to take in. Too much to believe. Twenty-four hours ago, everything was normal. Everyone was happy. Now I’m in Cornwall, speaking to someone who’s trying to tell me Tom is some sort of lying psychopath, while he’s on the other side of the world, a couple of hours away from thinking I’ve dropped off the face of the earth.
‘I’m not sure,’ I tell her. ‘I need time.’
‘You might not have time,’ Jess says. ‘Listen, you came here for a reason. You didn’t hang around. You knew when you woke up this morning that something wasn’t right. You didn’t sit on it. You drove straight down here and went to a lot of effort to track me down. Deep down, you know the truth. Trust your gut, Grace. The alternative really doesn’t bear thinking about.
Trust your gut. She’s starting to sound like Tom. Telling me to stand on my own two feet. Do what I feel is right. Stop listening to others. But I have to. This time I have to listen to others. I know I need to listen to Jess.
‘Grace, think about it. I know the things I’ve told you have rung a lot of bells. Calling you Butterfly. Taking you off social media.’
‘How do you know about that?’ I ask her.
‘That’s how I tried to find you first of all. I thought it was a bit weird you had no social media presence at all. And when I told you about Tom trying to get me to come off social media, your face dropped. Then I knew he’d done the same to you, too.’
‘How did you find me? In the end, I mean.’
‘I googled your name and saw that you worked for the events company. There was an old, archived LinkedIn page. I looked on the company’s website and found your picture and email address. I knew you’d look just like me. Like her.’
‘Her?’
‘Erin. I was only half joking earlier when I said Tom has a type. That’s not the full truth. The truth is he doesn’t just want a woman to look like Erin. He wants them to be her.’
44
‘Butterfly was the name he gave to Erin,’ Jess tells me. ‘I’ve been doing a lot of digging on Tom. I’ve spoken to his old friends. His family. I know I should lea
ve well alone, but I needed to know. I needed to uncover everything, so I could warn people whose life he comes into.’
This all sounds weird to me. Obsessive, almost. ‘Why not just use your job? Have him arrested?’
‘There’s no evidence of any illegal activity. He’s very clever.’
‘What about this?’ I say, unzipping my coat to show her the marks on my neck.
‘Was that him?’ She asks. I nod. ‘We can log that for you if you want. But I doubt it’ll do much good. It’ll be your word against his, and it’s extremely unlikely anything will be done about it. Even if it is, he’ll get off with a warning and a free pass to do whatever he wants to you. And I seriously, honestly dread to think what that could be, Grace. Don’t forget this is a man who doesn’t have a stable grip on reality. He’s willing to lie, cheat and live a false double life in order to get what he wants. He’ll go to whatever lengths it takes to keep the truth a secret. He’s quite literally built his whole life around it. I’m pretty sure the only reason I managed to get out and scare him off is because of my job. He knew he had too much to lose and had bitten off more than he could chew. At first, he must have seen me as a challenge. Turns out it was a challenge that was beyond him.’
My head is all over the place. ‘Okay,’ I say. ‘Let’s assume for one minute I believe all this. I mean, I don’t want to. But if I do. What now? I can’t scare him off like you did. And what if he comes back? Surely now that two of us know the truth, if he is what you say he is, isn’t that too much for him to risk?’
‘I’m not going to lie to you, Grace,’ Jess replies, her voice lowered. ‘That’s a very real risk. And it’s one I’m deeply worried about. That’s why I needed to get in touch with you. It’s why I used your work email address. I presumed that would be safe from him.’
We share a look, and it’s one I don’t like. One which tells me absolutely nothing on this planet is safe from Tom Ramsay.
‘What, then?’ I ask. ‘If the police can’t do anything and I can’t do anything, what am I supposed to do?’
Jess stays silent for a few moments, and I can see she hadn’t quite thought this far ahead.
‘I’ve got an idea,’ she says, eventually. ‘If he’s tracking your location, he’ll be doing that using some software installed on the handset. We need to get you a new handset and put your SIM card in it. Then you’ll still be able to contact him and confirm he’s in Japan. That’ll buy us a few days.’
‘And how do I explain that? If he suddenly can’t track me, won’t it look suspicious?’
‘No. Tell him you lost your phone or it got stolen. That’d explain it going offline for a while and could even help cover your tracks if he does manage to see it’s been on the move. It’s not perfect, but it’s all we’ve got.’
I look at her and see something in her eyes. I know she’s telling me the truth. I don’t want to believe her. I want her to be wrong. I want Tom to be the loving, caring man I know. But there’s too much. It’s overwhelming. And after what happened last night, I know there’s another side to Tom. And I know I need to act fast.
45
Sunday 16 February
After our chat last night, Jess and I headed from the pub to a supermarket to pick up a cheap smartphone. I managed to get a cheap Android handset for £50. None of the numbers were saved on my SIM card, and I couldn’t risk turning on my own phone, but Jess came up with the ingenious idea of installing Tinder on the new phone so I could access my old messages and get Tom’s number that way.
I sent him a message as soon as I had it, telling him my phone had been stolen but that I was alright and was having to use an old handset until I managed to sort a replacement. He phoned me straight away, but I didn’t answer the call. I waited until it stopped ringing, then called him back — Jess’s idea — so I could hear if the phone made an international connection tone. It did. He was telling the truth about being out of the country, at least. That buys me a few days.
He sounded so normal on the phone. As if nothing had happened. I tried to sound as normal as possible, but I reckon I probably failed. Still, he’d have been expecting me to sound a little off with him after what happened last night. Plus there’s the hangover. I reckon I’ll have had a bit of leeway in that regard.
For now, I need to keep up the pretence that everything’s normal. That means I need to be at home.
I was awake all night, trying to work out the best course of action. My heart says the best way to move forward is to wait for Tom to get back from Japan, then let him down gently and tell him I don’t think it’s working out. At this stage I’d have every legal right to kick him out of the house before he gains any right to stay. My head tells me it won’t be that easy, though. Jess had to use her police background to warn him off. I have nothing.
The scariest thing was Jess telling me that there isn’t anything that can be done. With no evidence — or even suspicion — that Tom’s broken any laws, the police won’t get involved. Jess gave me details for who to call and what to do if Tom refuses to leave or gets violent again. And she’s advised me to make sure I record everything.
That’s why tomorrow I’m going to go to a specialist shop on the outskirts of London which sells covert recording equipment. It means I’ll be able to store a day’s worth of recordings on a tiny chip hidden inside a pen, a plug socket or a photo frame. It all sounds ridiculous saying it, but Jess is right: I need to protect myself. If anything happens, or if Tom gets violent, everything will be recorded and can be used against him.
I don’t know whether the next few days will allow me to get my head straight and prepare for what’s to come, or if it’ll make things worse, making my anxiety build and stopping me from sleeping at all.
Either way, I don’t have much choice. I have to go home and keep up appearances. For now. There’s nowhere else I can go. There’s nothing else I can do. And that’s why I hope to God the plan works.
46
Friday 21 February
When Tom called me last night to tell me he was about to board his flight, I almost had a full-blown anxiety attack. I’ve managed to keep a lid on things for the past few days. Thankfully he’s only been able to call me once a day while he’s been away, and I’ve been able to hold it together for the ten or fifteen minutes we had to speak.
I told him I was having to go through my contents insurance for a replacement phone as I didn’t have any money. Partially true. My old phone is off — and staying off — and hidden in the box of Christmas decorations in the loft. That gives me the best part of a year to get rid of it or work out how to transfer things I need off of it and onto a new device without it registering as being switched on.
Even though I knew he was going to be in the air for over eleven hours and wouldn’t be home until this morning, I still froze with fear every time I heard a car pass the house or someone making a noise outside. It’s crazy. I know I need to calm down. If I’m reacting like this to absolutely nothing, how am I going to be when Tom walks through that door? I need to keep a level head. If he spots any sort of weakness or insecurity, he’ll capitalise on it and take control of the situation.
I decide that preparedness is key. I’ve checked and double-checked the recording gizmos I bought. There are two: both ballpoint pens with hidden microphones, each of which can record up to twenty-four hours of audio. One’s on the side in the kitchen, and the other is in the living room. They even function as working pens, which I found both impressive and scary at the same time. I’ve set them both running already. Tom isn’t due to even land for another twenty minutes, but with twenty-four hours of recording space, I can afford to play it safe.
I use my laptop to track his flight, and it eventually lands a little ahead of schedule. Fifteen minutes later, Tom texts me to tell me he’s landed and is through passport control. I estimate it’ll probably take him a good half an hour to pick up his luggage and get back to his car, plus an hour to drive home. All of a sudden, that doesn’t seem
very long at all.
The time passes quickly, and I’m only about ten minutes out on my estimate when I hear the sound of Tom’s car parking up outside. I look out of the bedroom window and watch as he opens the driver’s door, walks round to unlock the boot and takes his suitcase out before walking towards the house.
At that moment, my phone rings. I look at the screen. It’s Cath.
‘Cath, sorry. Can I call you back?’
‘Uh, yeah. But listen. There’s something you need to know. It’s about Matt.’
I hear the thud of Tom resting his suitcase against the front door while he searches for his keys.
‘Cath, please. I’ve got to go. I’ll call you back.’
I hang up the phone, take a deep breath and walk downstairs. I’ve practiced what I’m going to say over and over in my head over the past few days, like an actor about to walk out on stage.
I hear him fumbling with his key in the lock, trying to figure out why it won’t work. It’s because I’ve had the locks changed, Thomas. I’ve been planning ahead. You might have thought you were the one in charge, but you’re not. Not any more.
I wait for him to knock on the door, then I insert my own key and unlock it, before opening the door to the man I’ve spent the last few months loving, but who now seems like a stranger to me.
‘My key doesn’t work for some reason,’ he says, looking at me.
‘I know,’ I reply. ‘There’s a reason for that. I think we need to talk.’
47
Tom steps inside the house with his suitcase, and I have to admit he’s doing a great job of looking confused.
‘What’s this all about?’ he asks, putting his case down in the hall. ‘What’s going on?’
‘I’ve been doing a lot of thinking recently, Tom. I don’t think we’re right for each other. I think we should go our separate ways.’