I Made a Mistake

by Jane Corry

  And you might not have looked at someone else. Just look where that has got us.

  My heart bled for you, Poppy, having to rake over the details of it all in court like that. I could have throttled that barrister. I wanted to take you by the hand and pull you off that stand. It simply wasn’t fair.

  I knew about your affair with Matthew Gordon long before you realized, Poppy. I suspected it the moment you came back from that work Christmas party. You had a look on your face, you see, which was just like mine when I’d glanced in the mirror after being with Gary.

  You hadn’t consummated it. At least I didn’t think so. The guilt wasn’t there at that stage. It was more like a vibrancy. A new life in your eyes. An excitement. That first flush of love. Addictive. All consuming. Reckless. Capable of doing anything.

  And that’s when I knew we were in real trouble.

  31

  Poppy

  Why is Matthew at Dad’s? To hurt him? No. Surely not. Or am I being naive? Maybe he’s just trying to unsettle me. If so, he’s succeeded.

  Meanwhile, my mind is racing with my other problem. How do I pay him the money he’s demanding without telling Stuart? There has to be a way.

  Then it comes to me. I’ll say I need to use our private account to settle Doris’s claim. I’ll pretend that she’s demanding £50,000. It’s a stretch, but you do hear of people asking for crazy amounts in compensation for the smallest things.

  Of course, that leaves the question of how I will actually pay off Doris. But that can wait. It has to.

  I spend a tortured hour at home (too jittery to even check my emails) while waiting for Betty to get home from her meditation class. ‘I need to go down to see my father again,’ I say, pouncing on her as soon as I hear her key in the lock. ‘I’ve just been talking to him and he doesn’t sound too good.’

  ‘Oh dear.’ Her sweet kind face wrinkles into concern. I used to think Betty was ageless with that lovely skin of hers. She swears by an avocado-and-yoghurt face mask, which she makes herself. But recently she seems to have developed worry wrinkles on her forehead.

  ‘I should be back by the end of the day. Do you mind holding the fort as usual?’

  I always feel I need to ask, even though it’s what Betty does.

  ‘Of course, love.’

  ‘Thank you.’ I give her a quick hug and grab my purse and phone from the kitchen table. That’s when I see the text from Matthew.

  I hope you’re not having second thoughts, Poppy. If I were you, I’d start getting your ducks in a row. You have two days left.

  No ‘Pops’ this time. The ‘Poppy’ shows he means business.

  I delete the message, say a quick goodbye to Betty and leap into the car. Before I switch on the engine I try Stuart’s surgery. It’s virtually impossible to get through to my husband when he’s working. You can’t simply drop everything when you’re a dentist to take a call from the wife.

  ‘You’re lucky,’ says the receptionist, as if she is doing me a favour. ‘A patient has just cancelled so he’s got a spare ten minutes. I’ll put you through.’

  ‘What’s wrong?’ he asks. Stuart knows I wouldn’t bother him unless there was an emergency. My heart pounds. I’m going to have to be careful how I phrase this. ‘I’ve got to go down to Dad,’ I say. ‘Nothing too serious, but I’m a bit worried. He doesn’t sound right.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry. Obviously, let me know if you need anything.’

  I sense my husband’s impatience. This isn’t an emergency in his book.

  ‘There’s something else,’ I say. ‘That client of mine … Doris … the one who is suing the agency for a fractured shoulder. She … she wants fifty thousand pounds or she’ll take me to court.’

  ‘What? That’s ridiculous.’ Stuart doesn’t normally get agitated but I can almost see him getting flushed with panic at the other end. ‘She’s trying it on.’

  ‘The lawyer says that a court case could cost us much more – and will also damage the agency’s reputation. He thinks we should pay her off.’

  ‘But that’s all our savings!’

  ‘I know. I’m sorry.’

  ‘We can’t do that, Poppy. You’ve got professional liability insurance, haven’t you?’

  Now is the time to admit that it doesn’t cover clients who visit the house and that neither does our house insurance. But I can’t do it. It makes me feel stupid. Just like the old Poppy who couldn’t make it as an actress. I might have made it big as an agent. But deep down, I still feel a failure. And I can’t bear to go back to that again.

  ‘Yes,’ I hear myself say. ‘Of course we have.’

  ‘Well then. You’ll just have to use it. I know it might affect your future premiums but that can’t be helped.’

  I hang up, my heart like lead.

  There has to be some solution, I tell myself, threading my way through the London traffic. But what? How can I stop Matthew? Will he still be there when I get to Worthing? What if I find my father slumped on the ground …

  I try calling Reg but it goes through to answerphone. I’m so distressed that I have to slam hard on the brakes at a red traffic light. Concentrate, I tell myself, or you could be responsible, God forbid, for someone’s death. I used to wonder how someone could live with that. But that was before Matthew started to threaten me.

  As I join the A24, I let my mind wander back. How can people change so much? Was Matthew always like this? We’d been together for three long years at drama school. I thought I’d known him. But then again, he’d chucked me for Sandra. So clearly I didn’t.

  I hadn’t put him down as a blackmailer though. I sense he is hiding a lot of anger. He’d been angry with his mother, I remember. Maybe, deep down, he is angry with women in general.

  I need time to find a way to get money. But I don’t have time, unless I can convince Matthew to wait, and I don’t think he’ll do that. Stuart’s savings and mine are in a joint account. Does that mean we both need to sign for any cash taken out? If so, withdrawing it without Stuart knowing would involve forging his signature. But I can’t do that. Can I?

  There’s no car in the drive, I notice as I pull up. Then again, Matthew might have arrived by train and taken a taxi here from the station.

  As soon as I get out, the woman from next door comes scurrying up.

  It’s the same beady-eyed neighbour who had told me about the police arriving when Dad had forgotten to pay for the petrol. ‘Excuse me, do you have a moment?’

  ‘Actually,’ I say, glancing at those awful old grimy net curtains Dad refuses to let me wash because he’s ‘quite capable’ of doing it himself, ‘I’m afraid I’m in a bit of a rush. I need to check my father’s all right.’

  ‘He is, dear. I saw him just now through the back door. Getting himself a cup of tea, I think.’

  That’s something – but is Matthew still with him?

  ‘The thing is,’ she continues, ‘that I couldn’t help noticing your dad had a visitor today.’

  Don’t I know it? I want to say. A visitor who might be hurting my father right now if you don’t let me get a move on.

  ‘Actually, I’ve seen him here before. And I just thought it was odd, because I know your dad’s always saying you’re the only person who visits apart from that other friend of his. Reg, I believe.’

  She has my full attention now. ‘You’ve seen the other man here before? Sorry – when was that?’

  ‘It was the day your father hurt his ankle during all that bad weather. I wondered at the time if I should have said something, but I thought that chap might have just been a door-to-door salesman. Then, when I saw him here again today … well, I thought you ought to know.’

  My heart starts to race. Matthew was here the day Dad fell?

  ‘Thank you,’ I say to her. ‘That is really good to know.’

  ‘Well, you can’t be too careful, can you? My daughter says I have an overactive imagination. Maybe she’s right. All these murder dramas on TV, they give you ide
as, don’t they? But there was something about that man’s expression that I really didn’t like, though he’s good looking, I’ll give him that.’

  ‘I appreciate it.’ Then I take out my business card and press it into her hand. ‘If you’re ever worried about my dad in the future, could you call me on this number please?’

  The woman looks pleased. ‘I certainly will. I know your father thinks I’m a bit of a busybody, but I like to keep an eye on people around here. It just seems the right thing to do, if you know what I mean.’

  I walk down Dad’s path, shaking with fear and anger as Matthew’s words came back to me. ‘I’ll look after your dad for a short time but he needs to take care, don’t you think? Otherwise he might have another accident.’

  Did Matthew push Dad in the first place?

  If he did, I’ll kill him.

  ‘Poppy!’

  Dad is at the front door.

  ‘I thought I saw you out there, love. What are you doing here? If you came to see your friend, you’ve missed him.’

  We make our way into the sitting room, where I help Dad sit down on the sofa.

  ‘Your neighbour,’ I say carefully, ‘told me Matthew Gordon was here before today. You didn’t tell me that.’

  Dad hangs his head. Suddenly he’s gone from being a grumpy old man to a child. ‘He said I wasn’t to tell you.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Matthew said it was part of a surprise for you and that I’d ruin it if I said anything. Apparently it was something to do with your work.’

  Dad looks up. ‘We had a lovely chat. He asked how you were doing now and I told him all about how successful you are.’ There is, touchingly, a discernible note of pride in his voice. ‘He was really interested in that. Asking all sorts of questions about it, he was.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Ooh, I can’t remember. Stuff about your clients, I think, but I might be wrong there. I do remember we talked about the girls though.’

  I can feel the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. ‘What did he say?’

  ‘He spent ages looking at their pictures.’ Dad waved at the frames of my daughters on the mantelpiece, showing a series of Daisies and Melissas through the years in their school uniforms. Melissa looking more like twenty-one than seventeen in the latest. Daisy, with her puppy fat and her sweet, kind face. My blood boils. How dare Matthew try to wheedle his way into my family like this?

  ‘He asked where they were at school. I said they were at different ones but couldn’t remember the names.’ Dad’s forehead crinkled with worry. ‘I told him it would come to me if I waited a bit, but it didn’t. Then he said he had to go. I saw him to the door.’

  ‘Was Matthew there when you fell, Dad?’ I ask gently.

  ‘Well, that’s when it happened. He said he didn’t want me coming to the door to see him off because it was cold. I told him that I might be old but I still had my manners. Matthew held my arm to stop me slipping on the ice. He was ever so upset when I fell over my slippers and hurt my ankle. Called the ambulance for me, he did. He couldn’t actually come with me to the hospital because he had to go back to look after his wife. She’s in a wheelchair, you know.’

  I go hot all over with fury. I almost tell Dad the truth about Sandra but I don’t want to distract him. ‘So why spin me that yarn about the kids knocking at your door and a passing stranger helping?’

  ‘I’ve already explained. He said I wasn’t to tell you he’d been here or it would ruin the surprise.’ He looks worried. ‘I hope I haven’t spoiled it.’

  I can hardly tell Dad that the ‘surprise’ was Matthew blackmailing me for every last penny of my savings.

  ‘No, I’m sure you haven’t,’ I say lightly. ‘It’s fine.’

  Sometimes I cannot believe my father can be both so stubborn and so remarkably gullible at the same time.

  ‘Why did he visit you again today? What did he want?’

  ‘What is this? Some kind of interrogation?’ Dad speaks as though he’s joking, but he looks disconcerted. ‘He said he was passing through and that he just wanted to catch up on old times. A really pleasant chap, isn’t he?’

  ‘Very,’ I say grimly. ‘Now why don’t you sit down and I’ll make a cup of tea.’

  I spend the rest of the day keeping Dad company, ‘helping’ him do his puzzles (‘That piece doesn’t go there, Poppy! Let me do it!’) and making him a meal. But all the time I am wondering what to do.

  I don’t have any proof that Matthew hurt my father. But he might have done. And if I don’t give him the money, he could be crazy enough to hurt him again or – I can’t even bear to think of this – one of the girls. At the very least, he’ll send that photograph of us in bed to Stuart. I am now fully convinced he’d do that.

  I sneak off into the garden to use my banking phone app privately and discover that I can indeed, take out £50,000 from a main branch in two lots of withdrawals on separate days. I don’t even need Stuart’s signature. If I take the first tomorrow, I will just have time.

  I don’t like the idea but …

  ‘Poppy!’ thunders my father. ‘Didn’t you hear me? I said we’re out of beans.’

  ‘No you’re not,’ I say, forcing myself to sound reasonable, even though I literally feel at breaking point. It’s not Dad’s fault.

  ‘Look.’ I go into the kitchen and open a cupboard. There are rows and rows of beans, some with sausages and others without.

  ‘That’s all right then,’ he says. Instantly, he is calm again.

  ‘Would you like me to cook you some?’

  ‘No. I’m not hungry. I just wanted to know they were there. I’m going to finish my puzzle now instead.’

  He sits down at the dining room table. There’s a 10,000-piece set there with a picture of the sea on the cover. How can he be so good at that when he gets confused about milk and baked beans?

  I notice then how filthy his kitchen floor is. It’s covered with dried egg yolk and something else that I can’t identify. I find a mop in a cupboard and start to clean it. I feel calmer at once. There’s something so soothing about the steady rhythm of the mop. The washing away of all the stains and the grime. It helps to make me feel I’m in control again. Then, while Dad is still occupied with his jigsaw, I tackle the bathroom, the loo and Dad’s bedroom.

  When my phone goes, I’m amazed to see that three hours have passed. Betty’s name flashes up on the screen. She’s probably wondering what time I’ll be back. I should leave soon. I’m behind enough with my work as it is and I need to be with the girls. As for Matthew, my head is still in an impossible muddle.

  ‘Poppy.’

  Just as before, I instantly know something is wrong.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Coco.’ Her voice is raw with grief. ‘She’s gone! Daisy was walking her in the park when she stopped to get her phone out of her bag. Her arm got twisted round the lead and a man walking past offered to hold Coco so she could take the call. Apparently they then both ‘disappeared’.

  I can hear Daisy’s hysterical sobs in the background.

  ‘I don’t know what to do. The awful thing is that the identity disc on the lead broke off just before she took it out. So no one will know how to get her back to us. Daisy wants to call the police.’

  ‘Did she say what this man looked like?’

  ‘Apparently he had dark hair swept back from his face and a large nose. He actually introduced himself to her. Said his name was Matthew, although he’d probably made that up.’

  His words come back to me. ‘I’ll look after your dad for a short time, although I’ve got to get back to London to attend to some business.’ He must have driven straight to London from Dad’s. He knew where we lived. Maybe he saw Daisy coming out of the house. He’d paid close attention to the children’s pictures from his previous visit, dad had said. He’d have recognized her. Followed her into the park. The thought of him coming so close to my little girl makes me feel sick with rage and te
rror. He’d given his name purposely so she’d tell me and spook me out.

  That’s it. He’s gone too far now. I have to do something about this. Once and for all.

  32

  Betty

  I started to monitor your movements, Poppy. I know it sounds awful. But I had to. I couldn’t let you risk your marriage as I had risked mine.

  ‘Too late for that,’ Jane whispered to me in my head. Sometimes I fancied I could actually smell her expensive floral perfume as if she was right next to me.

  When you said you were staying at a hotel near your dad’s, I had this weird premonition that you might be meeting someone there. You wrote down the number for the hotel. Remember? But you left out a digit and you didn’t give the name. Your mobile was switched off. I wondered if you’d done all this on purpose. It was the sort of thing I might have done if we’d had technology like that, back in the day. Then I recalled you saying that that Sally had recommended the place where you were staying. So I rang her for the details. I thought I might talk to you. Update you on the girls. Remind you that you had a family at home just in case.

  ‘I didn’t suggest a hotel,’ Sally told me.

  My heart sank. So you’d lied.

  ‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘It must have been someone else. It wasn’t that important, anyway. I just wanted to check she’d got there safely but she’s not picking up her mobile. Please don’t tell Poppy I rang, will you? I don’t want her to think I’m fussing.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘My mum’s the same even though she’s nearly ninety! It’s natural to worry. But I’m sure she’s OK.’

  That morning, when you came back from Worthing, my worst fears were confirmed. You had slept with him this time. I just had to look at your face. This time, there wasn’t that excitement I had seen before. It was guilt. Pure and utter guilt. You regretted it already. I just knew it.