A shudder has gripped Felicity. ‘Nothing,’ she says. ‘I must have left a window open. Go on.’
‘Sarah called me one evening in April, seriously worried. Ezzy was skating up and down the drive, screaming abuse about me. I called Mum and headed round there myself.’
His glass is empty. She tops it up from the bottle.
‘We had a confrontation in the street,’ he says. ‘I told her she had to leave my family alone, she told me I was a cheating bastard who would get what was coming to me.’
‘Did your kids see this?’
‘No, thank God. Sarah kept them at the back of the house. So, the police car pulled into the estate, Ezzy realised I’d shopped her and she came at me. She could move like lightning.’
Joe finds he can no longer sit down.
‘I honestly didn’t know what had hit me. I just remember lying on the road, hearing her wheels speeding away, and knowing I was in a whole heap of trouble.’
‘Were you badly hurt?’
‘I lost a lot of blood and went into shock. Luckily, the police were on hand and paramedics arrived very quickly. There was some damage to my small intestine that was fixed by surgery. Could have been worse.’
‘What happened to Ezzy?’
‘She vanished. A couple of weeks later, while I was still in hospital, some of her belongings were pulled out of the Cam. We assumed she’d drowned, whether accidentally or by taking her own life, we had no idea. Officially, she’s missing, presumed dead.’
‘But she might not be? Dead, I mean.’
‘No confirmed sightings in nearly four months. She’s either dead, or long gone.’
Joe’s breathing has spiralled, as it always does when he thinks about Ezzy Sheeran. He feels the need for fresh air and is about to go to the back door when Felicity puts down her drink and gets down off her stool. He watches her take the three steps that will bring her close enough to touch. Slowly, as though approaching a nervous animal she reaches out and takes hold of his shirt.
‘What are you doing?’ His breathing is quickening again.
The buttons slip apart easily. ‘Checking on your progress,’ she says.
‘Felicity.’ He takes a step back, but she is holding on to his shirt. He can’t easily get away. She opens the fabric and her eyes drop to his stomach. The scar she has revealed is ugly and obvious. Before he can stop her, she drops to her knees and presses her lips against it.
He gasps aloud.
She runs her lips along the ridge of the scar, tilting her head to reach its upper edge. He puts his hands on her shoulders to pull her back to her feet and finds there is no strength left in his arms.
‘This is a really bad idea,’ he says, and his voice has the undercurrent of a moan.
She stands, so that they are almost face to face. ‘I am not your patient any more,’ she reminds him.
He sees her lean in and knows she is about to kiss him. He doesn’t give her chance. His hands grasp hold of her hair and he sees the snarl of triumph on her face. As his mouth finds hers, the dumbest thought occurs to him, and then he loses the ability to think. They kiss for long, long seconds, until he thinks that perhaps he has stopped breathing.
He breaks away and gasps for breath. She pulls his shirt from his shoulders. Her hair falls around his hands as he pulls her top over her head. He clasps her around the waist, they are staggering backwards towards the island. A glass falls to the floor and shatters. They ignore it.
A loud hammering sounds on her front door. They freeze and look at each other in shock.
‘It’s him,’ she whimpers. ‘He’s here. He’s found me.’
The banging sounds again. ‘Open up, police!’ calls a voice.
Joe bends to pick up his shirt. He pulls it on and hands Felicity her top. When they are both dressed again, a matter of only seconds, he steps to the kitchen door and looks down the hallway to the glass panel in the front door.
‘It’s my mother,’ he says.
56
Joe
‘Are you out of your mind?’
Joe closes the door of Delilah’s car feeling as though he has gone back in time. He is twelve again and about to get the mother of all bollockings.
Delilah looks a mess. There are mascara smudges under her eyes and her skin is dry and grey. Her pink hair needs combing and he can see an inch of dark roots. She is wearing loose, pull-on trousers and a stained T-shirt.
‘Seriously, have you lost your fucking mind?’ she snaps at him. ‘She is your patient.’
‘Not any more.’ Joe clips his seat belt and realises there are still two buttons of his shirt unfastened. He will not touch them in front of his mother. ‘Seeing as how you’re here, Mum, you might as well drive me home.’ He glances up to the upper windows of Felicity’s house. If she is watching him he can’t see her.
His mother bangs both hands down on the steering wheel in temper. ‘What the hell were you thinking? After Ezzy Sheeran? After Bella Barnes? Joe, you could be struck off.’
‘Nothing happened.’ As he speaks, he realises something major has happened. With Ezzy and Bella he, technically, stayed on the right side of professional conduct. With Felicity, he has crossed a line.
Delilah starts the engine and pulls away at speed. She drives quickly and recklessly through the emptying streets. No, he hasn’t crossed a line, Felicity pulled him over it. And he let her. Remembering the random thought that sprang into his head as they kissed – This isn’t Felicity – he realises how little he knows of her.
‘Have you been following me?’ he asks, when they turn into his street.
‘No. But we are monitoring her. We picked her up on CCTV an hour ago and you were recognised. The team let me know as a favour.’
‘And you thought you’d save me from myself?’
His anger is fading. His mother has probably done him a huge service. Had she arrived ten minutes sooner, his professional integrity might still be intact.
‘She’s leaving town,’ he says.
‘Good.’
Silence in the car.
‘Soon?’ Delilah says hopefully.
He shrugs. He doesn’t know. Felicity has no plans to see him again. Her attempt at seduction had been entirely manipulative. Now, if he raises concerns about her mental health with her new GP, she will claim, with some truth, that the two of them have an intimate relationship. On top of the accusations he faced over the Ezzy Sheeran case, not to mention the suspicion that Bella Barnes, as well, got too close, it could end his career.
Three times now, he has allowed himself to be compromised by vulnerable and – might as well face it – attractive young women. His judgement has been seriously at fault.
Delilah pulls up outside his house and they sit in silence. Joe wishes he was twelve again, because when he was twelve there were no problems his mum couldn’t fix.
‘Thanks,’ he says, in a small voice.
He feels her hand cover his.
‘There’s something wrong,’ he says. ‘More than her health problems. She’s just admitted to being married and I think she’s genuinely afraid of her husband.’
‘Name?’ Delilah has switched instantly to police mode.
‘Frederick Lloyd, I assume. She calls him Freddie.’