by Gemma Rogers
As well as the rubbish, I had three bags of books, clothes and DVDs for the charity shop too, which I dropped off on my way to Pulse. Ian didn’t show and for that I was grateful. After a two mile run, I spent the rest of my time on the free weights, lifting as much as I could. Tearing muscle tissue and berating myself for not lifting heavier weights sooner. I wanted to be as strong as I could be for Saturday. I should have done more boxing too; being nimble on my feet would have been an advantage. It didn’t matter. What would be would be.
Sunday 28 January 2018 – DC Becker
‘That went well,’ I struggle to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. Functioning on barely three hours sleep feels like torture. I should be used to it by now, but it never gets any easier.
Hicks grunts and collapses in his chair, swivelling it around to face me, legs splayed. He picks up his stress ball from the mess that is his desk, pumping it rhythmically as he chews his lip.
I turn away, my desk is no tidier. Unlocking my screen, I see Guy has sent me an instant message. James, the guy from the mobile phone company, wants me to call him. I pick up my mobile and key in the number. Hicks is still deep in thought and pays no attention as I edge out of my seat and down the corridor to find an empty office.
‘James, it’s Detective Becker. You called me?’ I feel my stomach flutter before he even speaks.
‘Hi, yes. That account. You mentioned patterns, right? Well, I’ve got something a bit weird for you.’
‘Go on,’ I said, my interest piqued.
‘Back in late October, for about a ten day period on and off, the phone is in one spot for hours at a time. It’s kind of strange from what I’ve seen before, that kind of limited movement. Could be work or home address or a friend’s maybe?’
‘Okay, great. Thank you. Could you send me the location and the dates please?’ I give James my email address. The fluttering in my stomach continues and I sense I’m on to something, but I can’t work out what. Hicks is right, something doesn’t quite fit.
I head back to my desk to find him leaning forward, squinting at his screen. I spend the next few minutes refreshing my inbox until it comes through. The triangulation is very similar to the printout I have from yesterday, but interestingly neither Ian’s or Eve’s houses are in the orange circle. This time Ian’s is just on the edge. I stare at the map, running through each road name in my head, trying to make a connection. There’s nothing else there, only housing, with a gym and petrol station on the periphery of the circle. I spot Western Road, which runs alongside an area of green on the map. It rings bells.
I tap the road name into the database and in seconds a solitary result appears on the screen. Eve Harding indecent assault, Grove Park, Western Road entrance, 24 September 2017. Why would she go back there? For some kind of therapy? It doesn’t make sense.
I type in the last date of the pattern from James’s email before the movements went back to normal. Perhaps that will enlighten me? There is a DUI and a domestic recorded on that date but also an attempted assault. Alice King: attempted sexual assault on Blackwater Lane. I scan the notes; the attack was interrupted by persons unknown, resulting in the perpetrator fleeing the scene. My eyes flick back to the pool of orange, searching for Blackwater Lane. It’s there, right in the middle of the orange circle. The other side of Grove Park.
Hicks was right. She’d found him – not only that, she’d caught him in the act.
51
Thursday 25 January 2018
When I was halfway through my workout on Thursday, I jumped as a hand slid around my waist, quickly followed by lips pressed against my cheek. Ian was back. I set my mouth into a smile before turning around to greet him.
‘Hello, gorgeous. Did you miss me?’ His eyes remained flat, not matching the words he spoke.
‘Of course I did.’ Throwing my arms around him for a second before recoiling. ‘Sorry, I’m sweaty.’ I admitted, using it as an excuse.
‘It’s all right, I like it.’ He winked, and I shuddered involuntarily.
‘You just got here?’ I asked, and he nodded.
‘I’m desperate for a workout, feel all pent up.’ He laughed, rotating his shoulders as though he was loosening up for a fight.
‘I’m almost done. Will you be here tomorrow?’
‘Yeah, think so, as long as there aren’t any catastrophes at work.’
I leant forward to kiss him briefly on the lips. I didn’t want him to think I was being weird.
‘See you tomorrow then.’ I sashayed away, hoping he was watching. I had to make myself irresistible. I needed him to ask me to come back to his on Saturday night after dinner. I couldn’t assume it was a foregone conclusion. From previous experience of being alone with Ian, I didn’t think it would be too much of a problem.
In the evening, I spent over an hour on the phone to Jane. We talked about her packing, which amazingly she hadn’t started yet. I wasn’t surprised, she always left everything until the last minute. The countdown to her leaving was edging ever closer and my heart ached. She could tell I wasn’t myself and kept trying to probe, but I told her I was just sad she was going, that was all. She didn’t believe me, she could tell something else was going on. It was impossible lying to someone who knew you so well, but I couldn’t tell her about Ian now.
Friday 26 January 2018
I woke late again on Friday morning with no motivation to get out of bed. My muscles ached from the gym and I struggled to raise my arms above my head to wash my hair. I couldn’t face Ian knowing what was coming tomorrow. I’d make an excuse about why I couldn’t go to the gym. I was going shopping for a new outfit. He’d like that, me getting all glammed up for our date. His ego would be nicely inflated even before I arrived.
Ben joined me for a quick breakfast when he got home from his night shift. I hadn’t seen much of him all week. We’d turned into ships passing in the night, gone were our themed dinners and movie nights.
‘How are things?’ he asked, spooning cereal into his mouth as I slurped my protein shake.
‘Good. Going to look into doing that personal training qualification next week,’ I lied to make conversation. To fill the crevice between us. It was as if we didn’t know what to talk about any more. The banter had dried up. I didn’t want to hear about Amy and, thankfully, he spared me that. At the same time Ian was a topic I wanted to avoid too.
‘That’s good.’
‘Any closer to finding a flat?’
‘That’s on hold for a bit.’
‘Oh?’ I shuffled forward in my seat, chastising myself for being so obvious.
‘Yeah. Amy just likes to get ahead of herself.’ I couldn’t agree more.
When Ben left to go to bed, my shoulders felt lighter, not because he’d left the room but because he’d seen sense. It was too early for them to move in together. I knew it was none of my business and I had my own motives to want to slow things down, but it had got serious way too quickly.
I stared at Ben’s closed door. There was so much I wanted to say but couldn’t. It may be the last time I saw him for a while, maybe even forever. It was melodramatic but so was my mood. I couldn’t think about it any longer, I had to get to work.
When Jason came to relieve me after my shift, I managed a quick workout, skipping and floor exercises. My arms were too sore to box. I did what I could and when I had no more left to give I returned home. I wanted to make a few phone calls.
I rang Debbie for a catch-up. Ten minutes in, I realised it had been a terrible idea. She droned on about her workload, although she was in no rush to get off the phone to me and back to it. I almost slipped up when she asked me about the puppy. I needed to keep better track of the lies I told. I explained, sadly, that he had passed away. I felt awful lying about something so horrid. I tried Jane again, but it went straight to voicemail and I assumed she was working.
Lastly, I rang Mum who seemed pleased to hear from me. She told me she’d posted the wedding invitation yesterday, so I should get
it in a day or two. It was going to be a simple registry-office affair and Patrick couldn’t wait to meet me. If only the feeling was mutual. The house had been put on the market.
‘It’s selling for £400,000. I couldn’t believe it.’ That’s a lot of gin. Although she sounded relatively sober and more positive than I’d heard in ages. I wished my mother well, promising under duress I would be there for the wedding in a month’s time.
When I’d had enough of being social, I gave in and poured myself a drink. The sound of ice chinking against glass whilst on the phone to my mother planted the seed in my head. I wanted to numb the dread that had been slowly creeping up on me all day. When I finished the elderflower gin Ben had originally bought, I popped downstairs to get another bottle. Whilst in the shop, I bought cigarettes and crisps which I intended to use to soak up the alcohol as I couldn’t be bothered to cook anything.
I thought Ben was working, but when he came out of his room I could tell he was dressed to go out. Probably taking Amy out for dinner. Lucky girl.
‘Where you off to?’ I asked.
‘I’m going for a drink with Jason. Want to come?’ He eyed the empty bottle still on the table, moving his gaze onto the newly opened one.
I shook my head. In other circumstances I would have jumped at the chance, but I wanted to drink alone tonight. Also, it would be nice for Jason to have Ben to himself for a bit. ‘Tell Jason I said hi. Have fun.’
‘Are you having a party for one?’ he asked, his lip curled.
‘Yep. I’ll catch you later for post-party drinks,’ I said, raising my glass in a toast.
Ben laughed, his eyebrows raised, humouring me. ‘Catch you later. Go easy okay.’ He jabbed a finger towards the bottle and I nodded.
A while later I fell asleep at the table, my head resting on my arms. When I woke, the flat was dark and my head pounded. Switching on the light and filling a pint glass with much-needed water I saw it was past eleven. Maybe Ben would be back soon, and we could have a drink after all. I downed the water in one go and poured myself a small shot of gin to take to bed. I hadn’t checked my phone all night and saw I had two missed calls and a text from Ian.
You okay? No gym today?
He was such a control freak. He had to know everything, where I was, who I was with. I hated him. Tears welled up in my eyes. Tears of anger and frustration but also fear. I could pack a bag and run. I could make an excuse and break things off before anything happened. I could even pretend he wasn’t the one and carry on dating him. I snorted at that thought, but the point was, I had a choice. I’d tried to give his name to Emmerson, but I didn’t try hard enough. I couldn’t blame her. Her mind was elsewhere. Concentrating on bringing new life into the world, where I was planning to end one. I had to stay strong. Hold onto my anger. He was a monster and he was going to pay. He would be held accountable for what he did to Sophie and the others. I would be the one to do it.
I lay down, running over how I thought things would go tomorrow, again and again. What if this happens? What if he does that? Every possibility thought out. One thing was for sure, if anyone walked out of that flat tomorrow, it wouldn’t be him.
52
Friday 26 January 2018
Ben didn’t stand a chance when I knocked on his door in the middle of the night. My mind set on fulfilling a need for comfort, so strong I’d given up with reason. He’d arrived home drunk, crashing through the front door and stumbling into his room. Rousing me from the sofa where I’d dozed off, still clutching the bottle of gin, television playing in the background. I’d waited a few minutes before going to his room. He stood, half dressed, in the doorway, bathed in red light from his lamp. Interrupted as he got ready for bed.
Puffy eyes and cheeks hot, I chewed at my thumbnail, anticipating the forthcoming rejection.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked, swaying slightly.
I wrapped my arms around his waist and pressed myself against his cold body, nuzzling my head into his chest. His breathing shallowed and I felt a stirring in his groin.
Ben pulled away, as I thought he would. Before he could object, I rose onto my tiptoes and pushed my lips against his. Softly at first but then with urgency. After a few seconds he wrestled me away, holding me at arm’s length.
‘Eve?’ I knew he was thinking ‘what about Amy?’ but I didn’t give a shit about her. I needed him, there in that moment. He had to know how I felt in case this was our last chance. I was tired of hiding it anyway. I forced my lips back upon his, daring him to stop me, but he didn’t.
Later, I woke as the sun prised its way through the curtains. Ben snoring beside me and my head pounding, hangover in full swing. I desperately needed the toilet and a drink. Had I been chewing sandpaper last night? Creeping out of bed, I slipped on my pyjamas. Pausing to take in the fleece material. To think I’d worn those as an outfit for seduction. I tiptoed out of Ben’s room, easing his door closed so as not to disturb him. I had no idea what this meant for us. No words had been spoken. For all I knew Ben would wake, distraught at the terrible mistake he’d made. I didn’t want to wait to see that look in his eyes. To see him choose her over me.
53
Sunday 28 January 2018
I’m taken back to my cell, my interview with the detectives concluded. This must be it now, the questioning finally over. I’m itching for a cigarette and knowing I can’t have one is making me irritable. No one has so much as glanced through my viewing hatch in ages. I think it must be a handover of staff, the changing of shifts. The van will be on its way to pick me up.
I sit, jiggling my legs and chewing what is left of my thumbnail. How did it go so wrong? I want to be at home, reunited with Ben. At least he has Amy and I know he will look after the flat for me. I trust him to take care of things while I’m gone. Will I get bail? Will I be allowed home before the trial? Surely not on a murder charge; I don’t hold out much hope. Although it’s possible, I have no previous record. I can’t think about it now; my mind is consumed with thoughts of spending the night in prison.
I am in danger of bringing up the bolognaise. My stomach is tightly wound like a spring and I’m assaulted by repeated hot flushes. Ridiculous, given the icy temperature of the cell. My solicitor is right. I have to plead not guilty and stick with self-defence. I may still be able to walk away from this nightmare. Could I afford a proper solicitor, one that is likely to be able to get me off? Or do I stick with my Candy Crush-playing freebie? Can you put a price on freedom? My brain is overloaded. I could do with some more sleep as I got so little last night, but I am too wired to nap. Dreading the knock on the door, coming any minute. My gaoler leading me away. I heave, unable to hold onto my dinner any longer and just make it to the metal toilet before spraying the bowl with half digested pasta. The acrid smell wafts from the pan. I’m in hell.
54
Saturday 27 January 2018
Feeling awkward, I didn’t want to be in the flat when Ben woke, plus there was something I needed to do. I threw on some running gear, grabbed my debit card and phone and headed out into the morning sun. The air was crisp, but there was no frost on the ground. I was so desperate to feel something, anything. It led me to Ben’s door last night and into his bed. I didn’t give him a chance to say no or push me away. I wanted to erase every touch of Ian’s and replace it with Ben’s. I wanted my body to know Ben’s hands on its skin, to remove the imprint Ian had left last year.
A guilty weight thudded in my stomach as I ran. I’d been weak, selfish even. The boy I loved belonged to someone else, Jane was going to be gone for a long time and Mum was starting a new life with another man. I allowed myself a moment to wallow and think about what could have been. How my life could have been different if I’d never been in the park that morning? If I’d realised how I felt about Ben before it was too late? If I’d tried harder to help my mother.
With a heavy heart, I threw my iPhone into the bin furthest from the flat before looping back on myself. I’d restored factory settings bef
ore I left the house, but I couldn’t be sure the PetCam app had truly been deleted. I knew some data could remain, but I thought it would be on the hardware not on the SIM. It was the only way to be sure. On my way back, I stopped off at Carphone Warehouse on the high street and purchased the cheapest android smartphone they sold. I put my old SIM back in and hoped I’d get the hang of how to use it quickly. I walked back from the shop, playing with the new device. Checking my texts, photos and browsing history for anything untoward. I was hoping there wouldn’t be a desire to look too hard.
When I returned home, Ben was still snoring, and I lay on my bed, hopeful for a few more hours sleep. All my emotions put away in the box marked ‘for later’ in my head. I had nothing to lose. I was going to even the scales of justice, or I would die trying.
Around midday there was a knock at the front door. Ben still hadn’t emerged, so I answered it. I hadn’t showered since my run and looked a mess. Amy stood in the doorway beaming, clutching a dry-cleaning bag, her face falling instantly when she saw it was me.
‘Is Ben in? His phone is switched off,’ she said curtly.
‘I believe so,’ I replied, moving to let her pass.
She knocked quietly on his bedroom door before letting herself in and closing it behind her. I hung around in the kitchen and made myself a sandwich, praying he wasn’t inside telling her what we’d been up to last night. After around ten minutes of pacing, they both came out. Ben looked dishevelled, Amy complaining how much he stunk of booze as she entered the kitchen and flicked on the kettle.