Read His Kidnapper's Shoes Online

Authors: Maggie James

Tags: #Psychological suspense

His Kidnapper's Shoes (28 page)

BOOK: His Kidnapper's Shoes
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‘The lady you dreamed about? The one I told you wasn’t real?’ I forced my voice to stay calm.

‘Is she really not real?’ His disappointment hurt me right the way through.

‘No, sweetie, she’s a dream. Like the girl with the dark hair.’

‘She’s not real either?’

‘No, my love. Sometimes our dreams can seem very lifelike, but that’s all they are. Just dreams.’

He was quiet for a while, and I wondered whether he was starting to fall asleep at last. Then he gazed up at me. ‘The other children at school all have daddies. I don't have a daddy.’ I thought my darling boy was going to cry. ‘Why don’t I have a daddy like everyone else?’

I had no idea what to say apart from another lie. Matthew Hancock came to mind; I’d pretend he’d died, telling Daniel the good parts, such as they were, and leaving out the bad. So long as Daniel had a father he believed in, to be on a par with the other children - that was the most important consideration.

‘Everyone has a daddy at some point, darling.’ I chose my words carefully. ‘You had one too, like all your friends at school. But yours was special, sweetheart. He got chosen to go and live with the angels in Heaven.’ Even though I had no religious beliefs, I found myself grateful for the weekly Bible class they taught at nursery school. He loved stories about baby Jesus and the angels; I hoped they would help explain things to him in a way he would understand.

‘He’s an angel too? In Heaven?’

‘Yes, darling. That’s why he’s special. Mummy and Daddy loved each other very much, and wanted to get married, but Daddy got taken by the angels and Mummy got very upset but she knew Daddy was safe and well in Heaven.’

‘I’m glad,’ he said solemnly. ‘I’m glad Daddy’s with the angels.’

‘Mummy is too, darling.’ I kissed him. ‘Now go to sleep, my love.’

I’d been right; the time had definitely come to find a father for Daniel. Ian Bateman, dark, attractive and hopefully single, came to mind. I thought he was probably about thirty; some people would say too old for me, but I didn’t think so. Males my own age held no appeal, based on my experience with Matthew Hancock. Older and presumably wiser sat just fine with me, assuming he liked me. I liked him well enough from the little I’d seen. Besides, I hardly had a wide choice of men available. I didn’t know if I could ever love anyone again, but I wasn’t looking for love, the sweep me off my feet and down the river kind. I’d settle for companionship and a father figure for Daniel. It would be a bonus if the man concerned were attractive, like Ian.

He came into the office again a couple of days later. Maria slipped out of the room at one point, throwing a wink at me, and I found myself alone with him.

We made small talk for a while, with me acting like a gauche teenager, stammering from time to time. The fact he might be marriage material unnerved me; I found myself wondering what he’d be like as a husband. I gave myself a mental shake, forcing myself to concentrate on what he was saying. He carried on the conversation for a few minutes longer before making his move.

‘I’d like to take you out on Saturday night,’ he said.

I didn’t reply. I was too taken by surprise even though I’d hoped for this. The voice inside my head, the one that frequently belittled me, had done a good job in convincing me Ian Bateman would never be interested in me. Mousy, dull little Laura Covey, the voice had said. He’ll want someone smarter, funnier, prettier.

‘We’ll drive out to a steak restaurant I often go to. I’ll pick you up at half seven.’

‘Yes,’ I managed. ‘I’d like that.’

Saturday night. I’d need a babysitter for Daniel, and the idea of leaving him with anyone else was unthinkable, what I’d vowed I’d never do. I thought quickly. I may as well tell Ian about Daniel right now. He had to understand about him and accept the situation or else there was no point.

‘Could we meet up Sunday lunchtime instead?’ I smiled at him, willing him to be OK with this. ‘It’s my little boy, you see. I don’t know anyone available to babysit. If you don’t mind…’ Please God, let him not mind. ‘If I brought him along…maybe we could have lunch or something?’

Perhaps I imagined it, but I thought his face fell slightly. ‘You have a child?’ he asked.

Maternal love welled up in me. ‘Yes. Daniel. He’s four years old.’ I pulled my purse from my bag. ‘Look at his photo. Isn’t he adorable?’

I had a twinge of disappointment at his lack of reaction. I told myself he had a lot to take in. Dating – assuming we did start dating – someone with a young son, a single mother, shouldn’t be taken lightly. I must make allowances.

‘There’s the Royal Oak,’ he said. ‘They do a good carvery on Sundays, and they have a children’s play area. I’ll pick you up around twelve-thirty.’

We swapped telephone numbers and he left, saying he’d see me on Sunday.

Lunch at the Royal Oak went well. Ian seemed stiff with Daniel, but from what he told me he’d had very little experience of children. The time flew by before I realised four o’clock had come and gone. Ian insisted on settling the bill, waving aside any attempt from me to pay my share. As I put away my purse, defeated, he leaned across the table and grasped my hand.

‘We’ll go out again sometime this week,’ he said. ‘When are you free?’

Bingo, said a small voice in my head.

I gave him a big smile. Playing hard to get wasn’t part of my game plan. ‘Whenever you are.’

We started dating regularly. Ian’s bossiness didn’t bother me too much. I found it easier to fit in with him rather than argue about things I didn’t care about anyway. All part of our unspoken bargain, I told myself. I’d get what I needed from our relationship, and in return I’d do things Ian’s way.

To my surprise, he took me to meet his parents on our third date. He explained they would babysit Daniel if we wanted to go out on our own in the evenings. I hated leaving my darling boy with other people but his parents seemed reliable and Ian obviously considered the matter settled. Besides, we needed to spend time by ourselves if our relationship stood any chance of progressing. There was the sex part to consider.

I told myself getting our first time in bed out of the way would be good for me, papering over the vile memory of the rape. I didn’t doubt Ian would be a kind lover and if I wanted this to go anywhere, I had to get over this hurdle.

I invited him to the flat for a meal the following Saturday, timed for after Daniel’s bedtime. I cooked lamb casserole, a good safe choice, followed by cheesecake, teamed with a decent bottle of wine.

‘This is great. You can really cook,’ he said, after his second large helping. I laughed, drank some more wine and congratulated myself on how lucky I’d been to have found this man. I saw myself married to him, cooking hearty meals and running his house, being a great mum to Daniel and a good wife as well; Ian would grow to love Daniel and we’d be happy together. I’d finally have the life I’d always wanted.

We polished off half the cheesecake and most of the wine and collapsed laughing on the sofa; Ian started kissing me and I realised the time had come. I’d already downed enough alcohol to blunt my fears a little.

‘Let’s take this somewhere more comfortable,’ he said, and pulled me towards my bedroom.

Thankfully, Ian had brought condoms with him. I forced myself not to think about the vileness of my rape, but about before, with Matthew Hancock. I’d never particularly enjoyed what he’d done to me and I’d never come, but I told myself I could do this; all I had to do was to let go and everything would be fine. I breathed in deep, willing my rigid body to relax. Large hands explored me in a way Matthew Hancock had never bothered to do and gradually I loosened up. It was easier to allow Ian to take charge, as usual; I had neither the confidence nor the experience to take the lead in bed. I doubted Ian, being the old-fashioned type, would want me to anyway. The sex ended up being better than I’d expected, to my surprise; I realised the thought of our next time in bed didn’t seem anything to fear.

Afterwards I lay beside him, cuddled up.

‘I’m in love with you,’ he said. ‘I fell for you the minute I saw you. Those beautiful blue eyes.’

‘I love you too.’ A lie, but I reminded myself to think of the bigger picture. Yes, my behaviour was calculating, but I figured I would bring enough to the deal to ensure Ian got a fair bargain too. I’d make a good wife, if he turned out to be a good husband. I’d do all the traditional housewifely things like cooking and cleaning, which I loved doing anyway, and I’d make his life comfortable for him. Fidelity wouldn’t be an issue; Ian would never have to worry about me sleeping with anyone else. It would be a bonus if I grew to care for him. I didn’t need love to make this work. Liking, trust and mutual respect should be enough.

Ian told me he wanted us to move in with him not long afterwards. A few months later, I held out my left hand and showed Maria my engagement ring.

I did have the odd moment of concern about Daniel, though.

Ian didn’t really pay him much attention or seem particularly interested in him, although I could tell he tried his best, for my sake. But it didn’t come naturally to him and Daniel seemed to pick up on his reserve, not interacting much with him. It was the only thing giving me any concern. I’d wanted to give Daniel a father and yet the two of them were awkward and uncommunicative with each other. It wasn’t how I’d pictured things in the fantasy world in my head.

In the end, I told myself not to chase perfection and to be grateful for what I had. I’d found a good steady man, who told me often he loved me. I said the words back to him, guilt hammering in my brain for lying. I did feel something for him, but it wasn’t love, and I doubted it ever would be. I turned up the heat on the good housewife role when I got those moments of guilt, and cooked and cleaned my way out of them. I told myself I’d be mad to look for someone else, especially when I had Daniel and many men wouldn’t be prepared to take on another man’s child. The parenting thing would come to Ian in time; he hadn’t been used to children, after all. I had to be more patient.

So one day I stood beside Ian in the local registry office and made my vows, and I swore to myself I’d uphold them, even if I couldn’t do the eternal love bit. Liking would have to suffice instead, and that day I truly believed it would.

 

30

 

 

 

WALKING WOUNDED

 

 

 

 

Daniel meant what he’d said. He’d run his mouth off for long enough; he needed to give Annie her turn. She didn’t say anything at first, her expression clouded again. Give her space, he reminded himself. Eventually she spoke.

‘Sometimes things happen in life when you least expect them and everything gets thrown out of kilter and nothing can ever be the same again. You’re not the same person anymore.’ She looked at Daniel. ‘I guess that’s more or less what happened to you. Suddenly you’ve found your family and lost a girlfriend, and you’ve had to rethink your whole identity. I can understand why you’re angry and confused. But you’ve gained more than you’ve lost, Daniel. You have a whole new family, and in time, the pain over your girlfriend will fade, believe me.’

Silence again for a while.

‘I was married,’ Annie said eventually.

Perhaps that explained the clouded look. The age-old story; she’d been married, and her husband had been unfaithful. Sympathy hit him; he'd not known her long but he recognised her warmth, depth and insight and any man who hadn’t done likewise must have been a complete fool.

‘We adored each other. Our marriage turned out to be everything I thought it would.’

So this husband hadn’t been such a fool, then. He waited.

‘I met him when I was twenty-two. I’d had one or two boyfriends before, but nothing serious; then I met Andrew. I’d started a job in marketing down on the south coast. He worked for one of our client companies. We began dating and we both realised straightaway we were meant for each other. He didn’t give a toss about me being nothing to look at. Oh, don’t say anything,’ as Daniel opened his mouth, ‘I’m well aware I’m no beauty. With this nose? Give me a break. But that didn’t matter to him. He wasn’t anything to look at either. But to me, he was the most wonderful man in the world. He had brains, he had a heart and he loved me. So kind, too. We got married within a year.’

‘Children?’

‘No. We talked about them, but the time never seemed quite right, and I think we were happy just being with each other. It might have happened one day, who knows?’ Her face had a shuttered look again.

‘I had Andrew for ten years. Ten years that couldn’t have been happier, before he was taken from me.’ Her eyes filled and he moved across the sofa to hold her. She pulled away and fumbled in her bag for a tissue.

‘Sorry. His loss still gets to me badly. It’s not been long, you see. Only six months.’

‘What happened?’

‘I went to visit my mother one night. Andrew didn’t come with me; he had a bad cold. I kissed him goodbye and told him I’d be back soon.’

She blew her nose and went on. ‘The front door was slightly open when I got home, which rang all sorts of alarm bells with me. I was certain I’d shut it when I left. As for Andrew, he was such a careful man; he wouldn’t have done something like that.’

Only one possible outcome to this story, thought Daniel, and a damned ugly one. Dear God.

BOOK: His Kidnapper's Shoes
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