Chapter Nine
Now
Friday, 30 October
The candle flickers, lighting up the board on the wall – my mood board. I think that’s what people call them. It’s nothing more than a piece of cork with push pins attaching all my research to it in an orderly fashion. I stare at the photo of him as I grab a marker pen and slash a huge cross over his face. He’s gone, but it doesn’t end there. This is just the beginning.
I place a sheet of paper in the printer and double-check the most important letter I will ever write before I print it up. Gloved hands, of course. I wouldn’t dream of touching the paper or the envelope. I know how these things work. Not that it will matter much, once a team of journalists have had their grubby hands all over it, any evidence would probably be destroyed with layers of fingerprints.
The map to my right tells me where I go next and who will come to me. I have everything well planned. Years of preparation now finally have a purpose. Today, I’m stronger than ever and that strength will only grow. I’m more ready than I’ve ever been.
My body feels electrically charged as I run through the details of the next piece of the puzzle. Those nights where I’d wriggle in my sweat-drenched sheets mulling over these moments made it all worth it. The days where I’d be eating breakfast and look down at my empty plate of toast, not remembering the process of actually eating it. The only clue was the taste of molten margarine coating the back of my throat, threatening to reach further down my gullet before forcing it back up. That’s no way to live. There are pleasures in life and they are there to take so that’s what I’m doing. I’m no longer going to hide or deny who I am and what I want.
Staring at the little screen, I scan my words. The letter is perfect. It says everything I want it to say and, for once, people are going to want to know who I am. Maybe they will find out who I am. Who knows? A grin spreads across my face. I’m back.
Look at me, see me; open your eyes; for if you don’t, I will open them for you.
Then I see you in my mind’s eye, the most important cog in this wheel. I scrunch my eyes in the candlelight and focus on your features. It’s an old photo of you in uniform, one of you getting presented with a tuppenny-ha’penny award many years ago. You look so young, but behind your smile lies a haunted expression. You spend all day lying about who you are, just as I do. You’ve been hurt too. We’re so alike and I will make you see that. I need you to see.
The printer finishes chugging and spits the page onto the floor. I struggle to scoop it up and crease the corner a little as I get hold of the paper. It’s not easy working in gloves. I fiddle with the new pack of envelopes until I’ve opened them and stuff the letter into one. It’s ready to go. I blow out the candle and sit in darkness. There’s nothing as soothing as a naked flame but the smell of one that has just been extinguished; that’s true fear. You’ll find that out soon enough. I need you to feel it too.
The images on my board are now in darkness and my nose is tickled by the stench of the smoking wick.
Time to close up for the night. I slam the door to the pitch-black attic, trapping my secret world behind it. That locked up world has no right to exist in my daily life and the two shall never cross. To everyone else, I’m just a standard member of the community. Not too good and not too bad. I don’t stand out and I don’t totally fade into the background. I’m plain old me.
The bells finish clanking on the back of the door. They have aged, like me, and the last three await their destinies. For now, I have a letter to post and my walking boots are calling. The letter I posted yesterday should reach you soon. That one’s just for you.
I pick up my burner phone and see that I have a reply to my messages. Someone is lying awake. The news I gave her would keep anyone awake at night. I reply.
Be there. I have so much to tell you. You deserve to know the truth about him.
The snoring below pauses as do I. I freeze midway down the stairs and wait. Then it starts again, just as it will continue all night long. That’s what normally happens anyway. The nights are mine, all mine.
I grip the letter and smile. I’d kiss it if I was sure my DNA wouldn’t be trapped in the paper.
Hello DI Gina Harte. I have some news for you – Terry’s back.
Chapter Ten
‘What the hell are you doing?’ Cherie flinched as Christian turned the hall lights on. ‘It’s four in the morning.’
He wasn’t meant to wake up. He’d been sound asleep. ‘I was—’ She paused. Nothing she could think of was going to make any sense. ‘I think I sleepwalked. It must be my new tablets. I woke up on the drive.’
‘And you got dressed?’
She looked down. How to explain that one? Her mind whirred from one excuse to another. I don’t remember. I slept in my clothes. He wouldn’t believe either; he’d seen her get changed for bed.
He pushed past and padded into the kitchen, hitching his lounge pants back up a little to not trip over the hem. ‘And you drove in your sleep?’
She shrugged her shoulders. She’d driven the car onto their drive and the previous evening, she’d reversed in. He was definitely more astute than she’d originally thought. She peered out through the dried up egg on the kitchen window as she tried to think of an excuse. There’s no way she could tell him the truth.
‘No.’
‘No what?’ Hands on hips, he gave her that look, the accusatory one that irritated her.
‘No, I didn’t drive in my sleep.’ Her mind whirred. ‘I sleepwalked down the stairs and into the kitchen; then I woke up confused. I couldn’t relax so I got dressed and went to the all-night garage.’
He took a few paces towards her until their noses almost met. ‘Really?’
She didn’t want him to know about the secret in her bag, not after what she’d put them all through in the past, but it was better than the alternative. ‘Yes, really.’ She pushed by him and leaned over the sink. If only she’d backed in, he’d be none the wiser. She’d have got away with the sleepwalking excuse and could have explained it as being anxiety triggered.
‘Okay. What did you buy?’
She kicked the cupboard. ‘You’re doing it again, questioning everything I do.’
‘After what you’ve put me through in the past, I feel as though I’ve earned that right. You’ve abused my trust in you too many times. I’m trying to protect this family and last time I looked, you’re part of it.’ He snatched her bag.
‘Give it back.’ This was part of her plan. Not an ideal part but it was okay for him to see. The contents of her bag would give him something to latch onto. She tried to reach over but he kept turning his back towards her as he dropped her purse onto the floor, followed by a packet of sweets; then he dropped a few scrunched up tissues and a make-up bag. Her compact shattered on the floor and he stopped.
‘You’ve broken it. That was my grandmother’s.’
Ignoring her, he continued to rummage. ‘So this is what you were up to.’ He pulled the offending item out of her bag.