No Longer Safe (21 page)

He rubbed his jaw and there was a prickly silence. ‘I think,
perhaps, we should call it a day, don’t you?’

He left the room and this time he did bring back my coat.

‘Stuart?’ I blurted out. ‘Look – it’s not that I’m accusing
you of anything.’ I took the coat, but let it fall over the arm of the sofa.
‘I’m confused – all those questions about whether Karen was in LA or not – I
can’t see why it would matter to you.’

‘Is that what you’re worried about?’

I dropped my eyes to the carpet. ‘You pop up out of the blue
– my knight in shining armour, so lovely and attentive  – and I suppose it
feels a bit too good to be true – like there must be another reason why you’re
coming round to the cottage all the time.’

He looked genuinely hurt. ‘How I feel…about you…is totally
real. Honestly. I really love your company – you’re warm, gracious, sincere.’
He ignored the hand I put out trying to stop him. ‘It’s true.’

He withdrew his hands into his hips, shaking his head. ‘But,
okay. There is something. Something I haven’t told you.’ He reached for my arm
and pulled me back to the sofa. ‘I’ve told you part of it already.’
He had? Which bit?

His expression looked pained. ‘I told you my brother had
been injured during an armed robbery…’

‘Yes – but, what’s that got to do with this?’

‘It’s a long story. Last year my brother, Tony, and his wife
split up – and their grown-up son disappeared.’

‘I still don’t—’

He lifted his hand to shush me. ‘The lad always had a turbulent
relationship with his mother and when they broke up – it hit him hard. Tony was
going downhill by then and I don’t think his son could cope with any more
emotional distress. He walked out one night in March, this year. There’s been
no word from him since.

‘He seemed to slip off the edge of the earth – he closed
down his bank account, stopped using his phone… My brother wants nothing more
than to have him back, but he was in no fit state to go looking for him. So –
for the last few months, between teaching commitments, I’ve been trying to find
him.’

My eyes were glued to his face, wondering where all this was
going.

He went on, ‘I was hopeless on my own – I was certain my
nephew had changed his name – so I hired a private detective.’ He broke into a
smile. ‘That’s why I laughed when you asked me if
I
was a detective – I’m such an amateur at
this kind of thing.’

‘Go on…’

‘Anyway, two weeks ago he contacted me to say he’d tracked
down a young man he thought was Charles.’

‘Charles?’ I sat upright, gripping the arm of the sofa.

‘Yeah. His real name is Charles Wishart, but apparently, he
changed his surname to Smith.’ He rolled his eyes.

A faint buzzing sound started inside my head.

‘Jim followed his trail to Glasgow and managed to find out –
from chatting to some of Charlie’s tipsy mates in the pub – that he was heading
this way. It was the best lead we’d had, so I booked a cottage, thinking I
could stay in the area and look for him. It was a bit of a long shot, but I had
to try.’ His eyes met mine. ‘I’m not here for birdwatching – I think you saw
through that – sorry.’

The buzzing was getting louder. ‘Did you…f-find him?’ I
stammered, ‘This…Charles?’

‘I thought I spotted him leaving The Cart and Horses the
night before you arrived, but when I got outside, I lost him.

‘Then the police were talking about the little boy being
snatched and they had a description of the man seen running across the field
that day. I had to tell them I thought it sounded like Charlie. He’d been
wearing a brown leather bomber jacket when I saw him in the pub.

‘He’d never been in trouble with the police before, but Jim
told me the guys in the pub said he was planning on doing some kind of “job”
and then taking off to Europe.’

The sound inside my head had escalated to a thunderous
drilling.

‘It’s not looking good for him,’ he added.

No, it’s not.

The words were all there – bursting to come out.
It’s not looking good for him at all, because I found
your nephew, Stuart – and he’s dead
…

A new image flashed into my mind. Stuart must have been
within yards of Charlie’s body, festering by then in the byre, when he’d
visited me at the cottage.
You can stop
looking, Stuart. I know exactly where Charlie is now. He’s in the lake. Karen
and I threw him in there yesterday morning.

Shame polluted every cell of my being. Stuart wasn’t the bad
guy in all this – the person with something to hide. That was
me.

I couldn’t bear any more. I didn’t feel at all well. I ran
for the door and bolted upstairs to the bathroom. The next moment, the entire
meal that Stuart had prepared so beautifully was ejected into the toilet bowl.
I sat on the floor, coughing and trying to breathe, as Stuart’s footsteps came
closer up the stairs. ‘Alice? Alice are you okay? Alice?’

He tapped on the door. I splashed water on my face and
called out the only word I could think of, ‘Sorry…’

I opened the door and fell into him. ‘Sorry…’ I said, again.

‘Are you alright?’

I held on to him, unable to say anything. Right there, right
then – this experience felt like the most dreadful thing in the whole world.
But I couldn’t say anything. How could I?

‘I’ve poisoned you,’ he said, straightening up, biting his
lip. ‘I told you I’m a terrible cook. I’m so sorry.’

I held my stomach. ‘Maybe I’m allergic to something…’ I
wiped a band of sweat from my forehead with my fingers, hating myself for
letting him think this was his fault.

‘Let me get you home,’ he said urgently. ‘Will you be okay
in the Land Rover?’

I took hold of the doorframe with my free hand. For a fleeting
moment, I thought I might be swallowed up in a panic attack, but it passed.
‘Yeah…I think so… thanks…’

We went downstairs, slowly and deliberately, and he held my
coat for me.

‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘You went to such a lot of trouble. I
really appreciate it.’

We barely said a word on the way back to the cottage. When
he pulled up, I unfastened the seatbelt and turned to get straight out so there
was no awkward moment over whether or not we should kiss. I felt desperately
ashamed of myself.

He took me right to the door, more or less holding me up.

‘Thanks for…’

‘You get yourself better and we’ll talk some more. I haven’t
told you the whole story.’

I stumbled going up the steps and he caught me. ‘There’s
more?’

‘Not now,’ he said. ‘I’m not sure of my facts yet. I don’t
want to make a mistake. I’ve got some calls to make. We’ll speak tomorrow,
okay?’ He stroked my arm. ‘But, be careful,’ he said, his voice hushed.
‘Especially where Karen is concerned.’

It was unnervingly quiet when I got inside. The place
felt deserted and for a moment I wondered if they’d all left. As quietly as I
could, I lifted the latch to the sitting room and peered around the door. There
was no light on, just the flickering of candles. Two had already dripped solid
trails of wax down the Welsh dresser, two more were creating a conspicuous fire
hazard standing in saucers on the carpet. A strong waft of pot hit me.

The three of them were lying on the rug in front of the fire
like corpses. They were all stoned. Karen made an attempt to raise her head,
but flopped down again.

‘It’s-you,’ she said, as one word. It sounded like a sneeze.

Mark rolled onto his back. ‘She’s back,’ he groaned. Jodie
put out an arm to thump him, but missed.

I could hear Mel faintly whining through the baby monitor,
but Karen had her hands over her ears, blocking out the noise. In a matter of
days, she had sunk from being attentive and devoted to careless and
irresponsible. What was she playing at? 

Without a word, I left them to it and crept into Karen’s
room. Mel was quiet now as I stood over the cot to take a look at her. Her
little belly was rising and falling gently and evenly under the blanket, her
arms spread out above her head. The woolly hat had slightly dragged down over
one eye, but I didn’t dare touch it in case I woke her.

I slipped out before I could get caught; I knew there’d be
hell to pay if I was found intruding.

I woke the next morning and, for the briefest
nano-second, I thought I was back in my room at home in Wandsworth. Then I felt
the rough tufts of the candlewick bedspread under my fingers and it all came
back.

With a shudder of despondency, I missed Mum and Dad’s bland,
run-of-the-mill company, the delicate wisteria pattern of the wallpaper, the
home-embroidered pillowcases. Everything there suddenly seemed cosy. In
comparison, everything here felt coarse and threatening. I never thought I’d
ever feel that way about our antiquated little home, but I ached to be back
there.

I looked at the bottle of sleeping tablets beside me. I’d
had to take another one last night after Stuart’s shocking disclosure. I’d
already taken more than I’d wanted to this holiday. I knew I mustn’t have any
more.

As I got dressed, Stuart’s revelation about his connection
to Charlie rattled around inside my head like a silver ball inside a pinball
machine. He could hardly have had a more innocent and honourable explanation
for his mysterious behaviour. Now, I needed to know the rest of the story and
what part Karen had to play in it.

I glanced down out of the window as I pulled up my jeans, my
entire body shivering in great spasms. The thing about cold is it makes you
crave cosiness – fires, hot drinks, the warmth of others. Yet, everything in
the house had an extra layer of hostility – not just because of the chilly
living space, but the lack of genuine connection between us. We were all
separate – like strangers – without any real allegiance to each other. It made
the temperature drop even further.

Karen was in the kitchen, sitting alone at the table,
holding her head up with difficulty. Her chin was squashed into her palm and
her eyes were barely open. I whispered a polite, ‘Good morning.’

She grunted.

‘Can I get you anything?’ I asked, waving the kettle in the
air.

‘I’m going for a bath,’ she said, heaving herself to her
feet. ‘Can you keep an eye on Mel? She’s out of her cot in my room.’ She
grimaced. ‘But leave the curtains closed, okay? Everything’s too bright…’

‘Yeah. Sure.’ I hurriedly made a coffee and took it upstairs
with me. Karen crossed in front of me, clutching a towel, walking towards the
bathroom like a ghost. I remembered from our college days that she didn’t
handle the aftermath of cannabis too well.

I switched on the dim lamp beside Karen’s bed and rooted
around in the toy box. Mel was sitting on the floor in the shadows playing with
a paper bag.

‘Now – let’s see what we’ve got here,’ I said. ‘Do we want
to play with bricks or rings?’

‘Ger-ger,’ she spluttered, flapping her arms.

‘Come and choose,’ I said.

She crawled over to the box and I held her steady as she
looked inside. She picked up a plastic dinosaur and flung it away, pulled out a
fluffy dog and let it fall, then chose a small ball that tinkled as it moved.

‘We’ve got a bit more energy this morning, haven’t we?’ I
said. ‘That’s nice.’ I was really thinking, that’s
normal
– certainly much more what you’d expect
from a nine-month-old baby. It occurred to me that maybe Karen had been too
high last night to remember to give Mel a sedative.

Mel sat down on the carpet in her all-in-one babygrow and
put the ball in her mouth.

‘No, let’s not eat it – let’s play with it.’ I sat a couple
of feet away from her and rolled the ball to her legs. She felt for it and
threw it back. ‘Wow – that’s it – good girl.’ She jiggled around on her
backside, chuckling.

Repetition was the key to keeping her interested – so we
went back and forth, back and forth as she squealed with delight. Then she sent
it back slightly to one side and it rolled all the way under the chest of
drawers.

I had to lie flat on my stomach to find it. I groped into
the darkness, trying not to think of the legacy of dead insects that had been
accumulating under there over the years. My fingers came across something, but
it wasn’t the ball.

It crackled as I touched it and felt like a crumpled plastic
bag. I pulled it out and glanced behind me at the closed door; I didn’t want to
find Karen standing over me wondering what I was doing. I opened it; inside was
a rolled-up pair of stained rubber gloves.

I heard the click of the bathroom door opening.

I squashed the gloves into the plastic bag and rammed it
back under the chest of drawers. I had just picked up the ball again when Karen
walked into the room.

‘Why the guilty look?’ she asked, rubbing her hair with the
towel. I wished she couldn’t read me so well.

‘Just, she’s crying again – and I’m meant to be entertaining
her.’

Karen knelt down and picked up the ball. ‘Don’t worry about
it. She’s a bit out of sorts – aren’t you?’ She waved the ball at Mel, then ran
it across the floor to her. Mel repeated the last trick she’d learnt and threw
it under the chest of drawers.

‘Oops – it’s gone the wrong way,’ I said, letting Karen
reach for it. Karen made a
humph
sound I
couldn’t interpret.

‘Listen, I don’t want to interfere,’ I said apologetically,
‘but she’s been really sleepy lately.’

‘Yeah – she’s still on medication – will be for a while. The
tablets keep her calm, but it means she’s drowsy. I can’t do much about it.’

‘Right.’ I got up. ‘I’ll let you get changed,’ I said.

‘Oh, Alice…’

I swallowed hard and turned back.

‘Thanks…’

I waved her words away. ‘No problem. Any time.’

After breakfast, I needed to get outside. The
cottage continued to feel like a place where bad things happened. Corruption
had seeped into the walls and carpet and I felt it leeching into my skin like
noxious rays. I grabbed an extra fleece from my room and made sure I’d turned
the heater off.

I glanced at my slippers on the mat by the bed and seeing them
there, huddled together, brought another wave of homesickness. I sat down for a
second to control this sudden sense of abandonment.

I didn’t want to think about how many miles from home I was,
how I didn’t have an immediate means of transport and, even if I did, the
weather was cutting cottages like ours off from the rest of the world at
regular intervals. Both inside and outside was forbidding – nowhere felt safe.

Outside, it was deathly quiet; the snow had gone completely
and the landscape appeared innocent and unscathed, like the icy weather had
never been there. But it felt like a trick, a test set to lure me into another
dangerous situation.

I thought about the stained rubber gloves I’d found under
the chest of drawers. Had Karen hidden them? Or had they been tucked under
there for months?

As I wandered past the byre, my phone chirped. It was Nina.

‘Listen – I have what I think is good news,’ she said.

‘Tell me.’ My voice sounded desperate.

‘Are you okay? Where are you? I tried your landline but they
said you’d gone.’

‘I’m just outside the cottage. I’m…alright.’

‘I know you’re concerned about Stuart claiming to work at
Edinburgh University.’

I felt a shiver trail over my skin. ‘And?’

‘I made some calls and a tutor by the name of Stuart Wishart
is
working at Edinburgh University as a
locum
. He was brought in to the History
Department at the start of the Autumn term and admin haven’t added his name to
the staff list, because they don’t know how long he’s staying.’

In an instant the doubts melted. I had to stop myself from
punching the air. ‘So, it’s all above board!’

‘I thought you’d be pleased!’

‘Thank you, Nina, for taking such trouble.’

I didn’t know whether to fill her in on Stuart’s connection
with the man she’d spotted running across the field. I didn’t want to talk
about Charlie.

‘What are you up to today?’

‘Not entirely sure. I think I’m catching up with Stuart.’ I
decided to tell her a fragment of the background just in case she found out
some other way then wondered why I’d not said anything. ‘I saw him last night.
Apparently, he’s in this area looking for his nephew. He’s been missing for ten
months. Stuart’s searching for him to help his brother.’

‘Oh – that’s sad. Is he making any progress?’

I felt my cheeks go hot. ‘I don’t think so.’

‘Well – let me know if you get any free time and want to
hook up.’

‘I will. Thank you.’

It occurred to me that had I met Nina at Leeds University, I
might have looked up to her in the same way I’d latched on to Karen. Nina was
generous, warm and showed an interest in me – those same qualities had
bewitched me with Karen when I was younger. Only now it didn’t occur to me to
suck up to Nina or put her on a pedestal. It was good to know those days were
in the past. I didn’t need to feel inferior to anyone any more.

I ended the call and noticed I had a missed call from
Stuart. A burst of adrenalin fizzled in my chest; I didn’t need to be wary
about him now. I was about to press
connect
call
when his Land Rover pulled onto the track. I waved and he drew up beside
me, the window open, the engine running.

‘How are you feeling this morning? You look a lot better.’

‘I am,’ I said, reaching over and kissing his cheek. He put
his hand on my neck and pulled me to him, so our foreheads touched. ‘I’m sure
it wasn’t your meal,’ I said, kicking at the tufts of grass near the front
tyre. ‘And I’m the one who owes you a big apology. I feel terrible about
doubting you.’ I told him what Nina had found out.

He switched off the engine and the chugging stopped. ‘No –
you did the right thing to check up on me. I could have been anyone – weaving a
web of lies to deceive you.’

‘Well – it happens,’ I said, straightening up, nipping my
lips together. ‘There are a lot of con men out there.’

‘Of course, I wasn’t thinking,’ he said. ‘I should have
understood that you’d need to be more cautious with people. Sorry.’

‘Let’s stop saying sorry, shall we?’ I said lightly.

‘It’s a deal.’ He gave me a high-five and I laughed.

‘I know it’s still early,’ he went on, ‘but I thought you might
like to risk lunch with me?’

He patted the passenger seat. ‘I promise I won’t cook. I
wondered if you fancied a drive over to Ebersley – it’s about fifteen miles –
there’s a lovely restaurant over there, does simple home-cooked food,
apparently.’

He tapped his stomach. ‘You could just have something light,
if you’re not feeling a hundred per cent.’

His hair looked thick and freshly washed. Within the space
of twenty seconds, he’d touched my shoulder, squeezed my hand and given me a
spine-tingling smile. This man had a magic ingredient that won me over in an
instant.

‘I’d love to,’ I said and walked round to the passenger
door.

We chatted on the drive over as if we’d known each other for
years, stopping at several spots to admire the view. I felt I could give in to
his enchantment now, certain that his allure wasn’t that of a siren, leading me
onto the rocks.

We pulled into the car park. ‘Can I ask you something?’ he
said, sounding more serious. 

I sat up straight. ‘Okay.’

‘Well – I’d like to tell you something first and then ask
you my question.’ He switched off the engine and we both unfastened our seat
belts, so we could face each other. ‘Right – here’s what I want to say.’

His mouth twisted to one side as if he knew he had to get
this right. ‘I think you’re a gentle, kind, thoughtful and basically
irresistible woman.’ I swallowed hard. ‘I’m in the middle of a grim divorce –
not instigated by me, but I came here in the hope of getting my head clear
about a few things as well as trying to find Charlie.’

He didn’t take his eyes off mine. ‘This wild place has been
exactly what I needed to help me see that…my wife is right…we
have
drifted apart over the years and we’re
not made for each other anymore – probably never were.’

He peeled off his driving gloves and put them on the
dashboard. ‘What has helped me see the wood for the trees – is you. Because I
feel something for you I’ve never felt for her.

‘It’s hard to explain, but Sandy is a forthright woman. Now,
that’s good – of course it is – she’s strong and assertive and knows her own
mind, but what I see now, since I’ve met you, is that she’s selfish. I’ve spent
most of my life trying to placate her and fit in with the way she wanted
everything to be.’

He rubbed his hands over his knees. ‘The point is, I don’t
think Sandy and I ever brought out the best in each other. I think we were
rivals – or she certainly felt that way about me. Our marriage was a power
struggle to her and she had to win every time. I let her win – but that meant
giving up a part of myself.’

I thought briefly of Jodie and Mark.

‘Go on…’

‘I gave up honesty, the truth. I gave up integrity. I gave
up my point of view. It applied to small things – like choosing which plants we
had on the patio, but also big decisions – like having children. Sandy never
wanted them – and I did. I tried to fight my corner so many times, but she
either stormed out of the house or dissolved into tears. In the end, I stopped
asking.’

I put my hand on his. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Maybe that’s why I feel safe with you. I can talk to you,
be open and not fear that you’re going to judge me. If you disagree – that’s
fine – that’s no problem, but it’s your manner that I find so heart-warming.
It’s something to do with respect. How can I put it?’ He leant his elbow on the
steering wheel, looking at me. ‘I think you’re a beautiful person – on the
inside as well as the outside.’

I didn’t know where to look. ‘That’s probably the nicest
thing anyone has ever said to me.’

‘You see?’ He held up his palms as if to say
I rest my case
, then put a fingertip on my
cheek. ‘And now I’ve made you cry.’