‘Nor does interrogating me help the situation,’ she pointed out tersely.
He massaged his forehead. ‘I wasn’t interrogating you, Laura. You’ve been gone a while and …’ He stopped, emitting another heavy sigh. ‘Your mother came here. About an hour ago.’ He looked warily back at her.
‘Right.’ She felt her jaw clench. ‘And I suppose you invited her in for a cup of tea and another cosy chat about me.’ She eyeballed him accusingly.
Steve held her gaze. ‘In actual fact, I didn’t let her in,’ he said, clearly working now to hold onto his patience. ‘I told her she wasn’t welcome.’
He’d stood up for her? Laura looked at him in surprise.
‘About what you heard us discussing, your mother and me …’
‘My going for therapy.’ She felt herself tense.
‘Don’t you think it might be worth considering?’ he asked. ‘Family therapy, maybe?’
‘What?’ She baulked. He couldn’t be serious, surely?
‘You and me, I mean,’ he clarified quickly. ‘I know you’ve been before, but it might help.’ He shrugged hopefully. ‘It might be useful for me too. At least then I’d know how I could help you, assuming you want me to.’
Laura had no idea what to say. She was being unfair. She knew she was. He wasn’t interrogating her. He didn’t want anything from her other than for her to be healthy and happy, less troubled. He wanted her to be able to confide in him. He wanted to be able to confide in her. To sleep soundly in his bed without having to worry about finding her wandering about in the garden in the dead of night. A normal relationship was what he wanted. How could he ever have that with her?
‘I don’t want to lose you, Laura,’ he said gruffly, ‘but …’ He shrugged and trailed off pointedly.
Laura’s throat tightened as she realised he was issuing her an ultimatum: sort your mess of a life out or else. ‘You don’t want to lose Ollie either,’ she finished, swallowing emotionally. ‘Nor do I.’
Forty-Three
Sarah
Keeping a lookout through the lounge window of her neighbour’s house, Sarah almost cried with relief when she saw Joe arrive.
‘Is he here, Mummy?’ Ollie asked as she turned from the window, his voice tremulous and uncertain.
‘He’s here, sweetheart.’ Sarah helped him from the sofa and took hold of his hand. ‘Thank you,’ she said to Walter, who had kindly taken her in. He was a widower, getting on and a little bit lonely, Sarah guessed. He was always helpful and considerate, keeping a friendly eye on the comings and goings in the neighbourhood. He hadn’t noticed anyone coming and going from her house today, though. Whoever it was had somehow managed to get in unseen.
‘My door’s always open, my lovely,’ he assured her. ‘You can call on me any time if you need to.’ Walking with her to the door, he gave her shoulders a squeeze, which almost caused the tears to spring forth there and then.
Turning to give him a hug, which both surprised and delighted him, she held Ollie’s hand tighter and went to meet Joe, who looked as relieved to see her as she was him.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked, his gaze full of concern as it travelled over her.
She answered with a firm nod. She hadn’t been in control of her emotions on the phone. She’d probably panicked him. ‘Just a bit shocked, that’s all,’ she lied. She was shaking inside. She felt violated, imagining some stranger’s hands touching her personal things, Ollie’s things – that was what had upset her most of all. What kind of animal would do that to a child, invade his world, his safe space, and possibly scar his little mind forever?
‘I’m not surprised.’ Scanning her eyes, his own growing dark with anger, Joe pulled her to him, holding her close for a second, and then eased away to crouch down to Ollie. ‘How are you doing, mate?’ he asked him gently.
‘Okay,’ Ollie murmured, his voice tiny.
‘You sure?’ Joe searched his face.
Ollie nodded, doing his best to be brave, but then his face crumpled. ‘They took Mr Whale,’ he cried, tears escaping his eyes to plop down his cheeks.
Looking pig-sick, Joe pulled him close. ‘We’ll get you a new one,’ he said throatily, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, which almost caused Sarah to crumple.
Whatever Joe had done, however gullible he seemed to have been where his ex-wife was concerned, he cared about her son, cared about her. He was the man she’d thought he was. And he was here for her. Buoyed by that knowledge, her heavy heart lightened a little.
Hoisting Ollie into his arms, Joe leaned to brush Sarah’s lips with his and then gave her an encouraging smile. ‘There’s a car on the way. I’m going inside to take a look. Do you think you could look after your mummy while I do that, Ollie? She’s looking a bit sad.’
Blinking hard, Ollie replied with another small nod, and then reached to hook his arms around Sarah’s neck.
‘I won’t be long,’ Joe assured her, making sure she had a firm hold of Ollie. ‘Do you want to go back to your neighbour’s?’
‘No, I’ll wait here,’ Sarah said determinedly. This was her home. She wanted to go back inside it. She wanted to clean it – though she doubted it would ever really feel clean again.
Joe’s face said it all when he emerged a few minutes later to meet the police car drawing up outside. His expression was thunderous. ‘All right, Joe?’ a woman police officer asked, looking him worriedly over as she climbed out of the driver’s side.
‘Hi, Kayla. I’ve been better.’ He nodded to the male officer who climbed out of the passenger side.
‘How’s it looking?’ The man indicated the house.
‘Pretty grim,’ Joe said, his jaw tight. ‘They’ve trashed the place.’ His gaze flicked anxiously in Sarah’s direction. ‘This is Sarah and Ollie. It’s her house, you gathered that?’
‘We did.’ The woman smiled sympathetically at her. ‘Pleased to meet you, Sarah. Joe’s told us a lot about you. All good, by the way,’ she added reassuringly. ‘I’m sorry you had to come home and find this. You must be gutted.’
‘I am,’ Sarah said, hitching Ollie higher in her arms. Joe had been right. Whoever had done this had trashed the place, just for the fun of it, it seemed. Furniture had been upturned, drawers opened, the contents left spewing out. Cushions had been slashed and strewn about, ornaments and photographs swiped from the shelves. One of her and Ollie laughing together, which she’d loved, had even been trodden on, the glass smashed and ground underfoot. Nothing seemed to have been taken, apart from Ollie’s whale. Sarah simply couldn’t understand the mentality of someone who would do that. Why they would.
‘Any signs of a forced entry, Joe?’ the male officer asked.
‘I can’t see any,’ Joe answered with a despondent shake of his head.
Sarah glanced guiltily between them. ‘The downstairs loo window was open,’ she admitted. ‘I suppose someone could have squeezed in through that.’