‘I think you’re being a bit melodramatic here, Tom.’
‘Do you? Maybe this will convince you. A few years ago this same group believed they had locked Emma, her son Ollie and her stepdaughter Tasha in a house and burned them to death. Yes, that’s right – they set fire to a house with a woman and two children locked inside. It was Tasha – thirteen years old – who was their main target. Jack and I foiled their plans, but if the wrong people learn that Jack is alive, they won’t hesitate to hurt Lucy – or Harry – if that’s their only means of getting me to tell them where he is. That’s how serious this is and why it’s essential that you tell nobody. Have I made myself understood here, Kate? I’ll show you the photos of the burned house, if you like.’
Kate’s skin had lost colour, and for once she had no smart riposte.
‘Understood. But Tom, if this is a real threat, I think there’s one thing you’re going to have to agree to. Lucy should come with me. To Australia.’
95
One week later
It’s a few days since Ash and I spoke about all that has happened, and since then I’ve been avoiding another discussion because my focus has been on Millie. I’ve been doing everything I can to make her believe that life is back to normal, and Sami has stripped the walls in her bedroom so she can choose a new colour scheme.
Nousha has risen to the challenge of helping Millie to recover in a way that I wouldn’t have expected, and I’m proud of her. She took one look at Millie’s white face and the black circles around her eyes and it was as if something clicked. She recognised that here was someone whose problems were far greater than her own, and since then she has fussed over Millie, doing her hair, painting her nails – not that I approve, but Millie likes it – and she’s generally trying her best to make my little girl relax back into being a child. It’s a hard feat to pull off after she has experienced something so dreadful.
Steve, who I had to thank for helping me find our daughter, has agreed to pull back for now. He understands that his daughter doesn’t need any more complications in her life. Besides, I think he’s embarrassed by the fact that although he did wait around further down the road, he drove off when he saw a stream of cars without headlights coming in the opposite direction. He suspected they were police, and he knew he was well over the limit, thanks to his water bottle of vodka, so he left, convincing himself that, as the police had arrived, he was no longer needed.
I know a bit more about Ruth/Shona now. She became Shona with the simple aim of getting to know me – the obstacle to her happiness. We don’t think she originally planned to abduct Millie, but by getting close to me and gaining an insight into my life with Ash, she believed she could gradually undermine our relationship with the Tinder image, the reference to the seven-year itch, the phone hidden in his study that I was supposed to find. But I didn’t play ball, and she knew Ash was pulling back from her before I could discover the truth.
I’m putting my feelings for Ash to one side for the moment. Even if I decide that I can’t get over his betrayal, I can’t ask him to leave. Millie needs the stability, and if he and I split she will be devastated. I can’t do that to her. At least, not right now.
Since Ash and I talked, I’ve realised how much I love him. Do I blame him for what happened? There’s no denying that he was weak, foolish, and his relationship with Ruth – the name I am training myself to use because it makes her feel more remote – has damaged my respect for him. I worry that if we stay together I will always be checking on him, never sure of him again, but Tessa has tried her best to persuade me to be pragmatic.
‘He wanted to marry you, and you know it wasn’t just because of Millie – it was because he loves you. He felt rejected, and men aren’t great at rejection, you know. Besides, although people always consider an affair to be the ultimate betrayal, think of all the other kinds of damage people do to each other – physical abuse, coercive control, addictions: gambling, drugs, alcohol. The list is long, and some women live with it every day for the whole of their married lives. In Ash’s case, this was an episode – one that you might find you’re able to forgive. Ash wasn’t to know she was as unbalanced as her patients.’
Ash has never once blamed his infidelity on my rejection of his proposal, but I have to admit to myself that I didn’t give enough thought to how I made him feel. I was convinced that for him marriage was a convenient way of, at least to some extent, securing his relationship with Millie, and I thought it a nonsensical solution to a non-existent problem.
There is so much I would lose if Ash and I were to separate – not least his siblings – the kids. Sami and Nousha have been so supportive, and as Sami is living across the road with Tessa, he pops over every day to carry on with the decorating. I’ve no idea how long their relationship will last, but while they’re happy, good luck to them.
I was beginning to think Ash and I were getting back on track, but this morning he asked me to agree to something that almost made me physically sick.
‘Ruth has asked me to visit her,’ he said.
She’s on remand in Styal Prison only fifteen miles from here. I wish she was at the other end of the country.
‘Are you going?’
‘Will you forgive me if I do?’
‘Do you want to see her?’
I listened as Ash explained that he wanted to go because he needs some closure of his own. I don’t know what that means, and I’ve never entirely understood this obsession with closure as a defined moment in time. I wanted to scream at him that of course he shouldn’t go; it’s a ridiculous idea and too much to ask. But I didn’t. I hate the fact that I have to think before I speak now and just hope that will change over time, and I will be able to relax, to breathe, to be myself.
In the end I told him it was his choice and, giving me a look that I can only describe as desolate, he left. I don’t suppose he knows how to behave any more than I do.
I’ve been trying to keep myself busy cooking while he’s been out – the one domestic chore that doesn’t bore me senseless – but now I hear the front door slam. He’s back.
I stay where I am, stirring the Bolognese for tonight’s dinner – another of Millie’s favourites. I don’t turn, but I know he’s behind me. I’m scared of what I might see in his eyes, and more than ever I want us to get back to who we used to be.
‘Jo, I need to talk to you.’
I give the pot a final stir, stick it in the oven and turn towards him, gripping the chrome towel rail of the Aga with both hands. He looks exhausted, the skin around his eyes black, and I wonder what she’s done or said. I don’t ask; I wait for him to speak.
‘You told me that Ruth said she was pregnant when the police arrived.’
I nod. We haven’t talked about this because I keep praying that she was lying, but the thought looms uninvited when I least expect it.
‘It turns out that it’s true,’ he says. I look at his eyes and see nothing but confusion. He doesn’t know how he should feel. ‘She says the baby’s mine.’