Christ, why hadn’t he taken her more seriously? Furious with himself, he headed for his car. He damn well should have. Instead, he’d dismissed her concerns, as good as ridiculed her. He would never forgive himself if any harm came to her or Ollie.
He was taking a risk professionally, but he needed to talk to Christopher Jameson, establish why he’d told Sarah that Laura was dangerous. He’d clearly been trying to warn her, but of what? He’d given her vague details, that was all. Joe needed more.
Arriving at the guy’s place of work – he hadn’t had to do much digging around there; the man’s profile had been on LinkedIn – he approached the reception desk and showed his ID. Two minutes later, Christopher Jameson emerged from one of the offices.
‘Is there a problem?’ he asked warily. He was clean-cut, wearing a business suit; he didn’t appear outwardly aggressive, but that was no indication that he wasn’t. Abusers, male or female, often seemed reasonable on the surface. He had a slightly guilty look about him, but Joe couldn’t blame him for that. Most people did when approached by the law.
‘Is there somewhere we can talk privately?’ Joe indicated the office Jameson had just come from.
The man scrutinised him cautiously, and then nodded him through.
Joe waited until he’d closed the door, then, ‘I’m not here officially,’ he said.
Jameson narrowed his eyes. ‘So you’re at my place of work for what reason exactly?’
Joe guessed he was pissed off at him for turning up here. He had every right to be. ‘Laura Collins,’ he said, and waited, studying him carefully.
The man emitted a short, scornful laugh. ‘Sorry.’ Shaking his head, he pulled the door open again. ‘I have no wish to discuss Laura Collins or anything to do with her.’
‘Right.’ Joe stayed put. ‘When I said I wasn’t here officially, I should clarify that I meant I wasn’t here officially yet.’
‘For fuck’s …’ Cursing agitatedly, Jameson shoved the door closed. ‘Do you realise what she put me through?’ He eyeballed Joe angrily. ‘She accused me of being abusive.’
Joe held his gaze. ‘Were you?’
‘Only when I threw her out,’ the man growled irritably.
Joe pushed his hands into his pockets, trying to keep the whole thing low-key. ‘So why did you throw her out?’
Jameson eyed the ceiling, his jaw clenching. ‘She’s sick,’ he said, jabbing himself in the temple. ‘She needs help. Not that she’ll admit she does.’
‘And you think she’s sick because?’
Sighing, Jameson drew in a long breath. ‘Is this something to do with the woman who accosted my son in the school playground?’ he asked.
Accosted his …? That didn’t sound like Sarah. But then she had been desperate. ‘Could be,’ Joe said non-committally.
The man arched a curious eyebrow. ‘She has a kid, doesn’t she?’
Joe didn’t answer. He wasn’t about to disclose anything about Sarah he didn’t need to.
‘She told me she did,’ Jameson went on, confirming that he knew anyway. ‘I’ll tell you what I told her. She needs to keep him away from Laura. She’s dangerous.’
‘You have reason to think so, presumably?’ Joe asked, making sure to keep any inflection from his voice, despite his growing unease.
‘And some,’ Jameson said shortly. He looked him over cautiously again, and then appeared to back down. ‘She was obsessed with my son. I don’t mean she tried to compensate for the fact that she wasn’t his real mother. It was more than that. She took over care of him completely. She seemed to love him immediately …’ Pausing, he laughed wryly. ‘More than she did me, that soon became clear.’
‘So why was that a problem?’ Joe urged him.
‘It wasn’t,’ the guy said, ‘at first. But then she started banging on about Liam being in danger, about her having to keep him safe. Christ only knew what from. She started to smother him. Wouldn’t let him out of her sight. She called him Jacob a few times. I guessed that was something to do with the kid brother she lost. To me, it seemed as if she was substituting Liam for Jacob, as if she thought he was him. I don’t know. It sounds a bit nuts, but I began to think that maybe she was trying to re-create history out of some sense of guilt.’
‘I see.’ Joe felt the hairs rise over his skin.
‘She wrapped him in cotton wool,’ Jameson continued, a despairing edge to his voice. ‘Liam couldn’t go anywhere in the end without her shadowing him. It wasn’t healthy. He wasn’t happy.’
‘And the crunch point?’ Joe asked. ‘I’m assuming there was one?’
Jameson tugged in a breath. ‘She took him swimming. Liam couldn’t swim, but she took him anyway. Afterwards, she said she was trying to teach him.’
Joe looked at him, puzzled. ‘Isn’t that a fairly normal activity for a parent to undertake with their child?’
‘In an outdoor pool at midnight?’ Jameson eyed him wearily. ‘We were on holiday. Liam couldn’t swim because he was scared of the water. He gets that from me, I’m aware of that.’ Running a hand over his neck, he looked away. ‘His mother drowned.’ After a second, he locked haunted eyes back on Joe’s. ‘At a Norfolk seaside resort, can you believe?’
‘Jesus.’ Joe was taken completely aback. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, silently cursing himself for not familiarising himself with the man’s history.
‘Yeah, me too.’ Jameson smiled regretfully. ‘She went in to try to save a boy who was in trouble. She hadn’t realised there were rip tides. I’d taken Liam for ice cream. He was too young to remember it – at least I hope he was – but he saw it all. The thing is, Laura didn’t seem to be aware of what she’d done. As in, completely unaware. She was sleepwalking, I think. She did that, wandering about in the dead of night. I found her outside several times. Anyway, that was the final straw. She refused to get help, and I’d had enough. That’s when I realised just how dangerous she was. I made myself a promise that she would never see him again.’
Forty-Five
Sarah
Sarah double-checked with Becky that she was okay to pick Ollie up from nursery and then drove to the hospice. She wanted to talk to Laura face to face, without Steve around and certainly without Ollie. She had no patience left for half-truths and lies. She wanted the whole truth – and she wanted to look Laura in the eye and know she was telling it.
Parked outside the hospice, she’d almost given up waiting, thinking Laura must have left early and she’d missed her, when she saw her come out. She was chatting to a colleague, so didn’t see her until Sarah had climbed out of her car and was walking towards her. ‘Laura, hi,’ she said. ‘Do you think we could have a quick word?’
There was a flicker of uncertainty in Laura’s eyes, and then she quickly arranged her face into a smile. ‘Sure, no problem,’ she said. ‘See you tomorrow, Marie.’
Giving her friend a wave, she veered off towards Sarah. ‘Do you fancy grabbing a coffee? If we walk up to the main road, there’s a Costa. Or we could go to a pub if you—’