The Half Truth (11 page)

They must have drifted off to sleep on the sofa – at some point Tina became aware of John moving restlessly in his sleep.

John’s legs juddered and she felt his body jerk. Tina slipped her arm across his torso and gave a gentle hug. It didn’t seem to have any effect on his sleep pattern, his arms were now beginning to move around. He flung one arm above his head, his legs moving tirelessly. Heat emitted from his body like a radiator.

‘John. Wake up.’

His breathing became faster and more breathy. A bead of sweat trickled down his neck. Tina sat up, now fully awake. His face was soaked with sweat, his eyes partially open. Another convulsion and this time an indistinguishable groan.

‘John. Wake up!’ said Tina, this time with more instance. She gave his shoulder a shake, but this didn’t seem to make any difference. She tried again. Louder and with more force. ‘John! John! Wake up.’ His eyes shot open and he gave a start. It was a moment or two before he could focus on her. She stroked his hair back with her hand. ‘You were dreaming. You okay?’

He rubbed his eyes, looking around him as if checking where he was.

‘Yeah, thanks. I’m fine.’

He didn’t look it. He rubbed his face with his hands and sat up on the edge of the seat. His shirt was damp with sweat and stuck to his back.

‘Are you sure you’re okay?’

‘Yes.’ His reply was curt. He clearly didn’t want to talk about it. Male pride perhaps? He turned round to her and stretched out a hand, covering her own. This time his voice was soft. ‘Sorry, but I am fine. Honest.’ He stood up. ‘Why don’t you go up to bed? You’ve had a stressful day and need your sleep. I’ll stay down here.’

She nodded. Relieved that the difficult decision had been taken away from her. Part of her wanted to sleep wrapped in his arms, to have the security of his body against hers. Yet, another part of her was feeling guilt at the thought.

She stood up and looked at each other. John was the first to move. He leaned in and kissed her gently on her forehead.

Tina studied him. His eyes gave him away. What was he keeping from her? What secrets did he harbour? What demons lurked behind those dark eyes?

John ran the kitchen tap for longer than necessary, watching the water gush into the sink and wind its way round and into the plughole. His nightmare unsettled him. It wasn’t the first time he had suffered from them and it certainly wasn’t the first time that particular nightmare had occurred. In fact, at the height of his nightmare times, it had been the one that risen from subconscious again and again.

He thought he was rid of them, though. This was the first in two years and he couldn’t deny that the timing of its return coincided with being involved with the Porboski case again and, in particular, Tina Bolotnikov.

The uneasy feeling that had begun plaguing him was growing inside like a simmering volcano. He knew it was going to erupt soon and the truth would spew out, uncontrolled, dangerous, destroying everything it touched, including Tina. He couldn’t let that happen. Knowing what it would do to her didn’t bear thinking about.

He made up his mind. This needed to be a controlled explosion. The truth needed to be handled with care.

He nodded at his reflection in the mirror above the mantelpiece. Mind made up. He’d tell her soon. It wasn’t going to be easy, but when had he ever walked away simply because something was difficult? It wasn’t in his DNA.

The thought of her smiling face and gentle laugh drifted in front of him. If he closed his eyes he could imagine the sweet soap-like smell of her perfume and the feel of her soft hair against his face. She deserved to know the whole truth about him.

The next few days passed calmly and quietly. John stayed with Tina the whole time, but had taken to sleeping on the sofa. There was an unspoken understanding between them. Something had shifted since the incident at the café. She knew John wasn’t telling her everything. She was very much aware that neither of them was being totally honest with each other. John knew it too.

More lies. More half-truths.

She didn’t know who or what to believe any more. She was even beginning to question herself. Had she really seen Sasha the other night?

It sounded implausible at times and as the days drifted on, she began to believe that she must have been mistaken. Sasha would not have put her through all this. He had loved her with such ferocity, with such tenderness, with such warmth; there was no way he would have intentionally hurt her. He had no reason to.

As she lay in bed, listening to the occasional car pass by in the still of the night, Tina could hear John once again prowling the ground floor of the house. She wished he would tell her what was causing his sleepless nights. She had listened to him go into the kitchen and run a glass of water. After that the living-room door opened and she assumed that was where he was now.

Tina listened for any sign of Dimitri being woken and was glad that he appeared to be fast asleep. Dimitri was becoming more and more attached to John. He badgered John to play football with him in the garden, delighted in looking at worms and spiders with his new-found friend. Unlike Tina, John didn’t squeal at spiders and comment on how disgusting worms were. No, John took a great interest in examining and studying these things with the five-year-old. Tonight Dimitri had even asked John to read him a bedtime story.

Tina wasn’t sure how she felt about that. How she felt about the whole John thing, really. If she could put her life into compartments, with no overlaps, she could think straight. She knew she was growing fonder of John each day. Yet it was happening very quickly. It had only been a few weeks that he had been about, but at the same time it felt as if he had been around forever. John just fitted into her and Dimitri’s little world like a hand in a glove. It seemed so natural for him to be there.

A thud from the party wall to Mr Cooper’s house brought Tina around from her thoughts.

‘Not that bloody door again,’ she muttered out loud. After the last episode of randomly banging doors, she had ended up putting a door wedge either side of the door to keep it from shutting. One of the wedges must have slipped somehow.

The noise she heard next set her senses on fire. It wasn’t the gentle bang of the door against the frame, it was a regular pattern of muted footsteps. Tina strained to listen properly. A floorboard creaked and groaned as weight was placed on the top stair. A loud creak that sounded even louder in the dead of the night – then there were more footsteps. Someone was going downstairs in Mr Cooper’s house and she knew, for certain, it wasn’t Mr Cooper.

Tina jumped out of bed and grabbed her dressing gown. The sound travelled so easily through the party walls. With this in mind, Tina took her stairs as lightly as possible. As her feet hit the hall carpet, she felt herself bundle into someone and one arm wrap itself around her, while a hand covered her mouth, muffling the scream she let out.

‘It’s okay, it’s only me.’

Tina relaxed immediately, recognising John’s voice before her eyes adjusted to seeing his face.

‘You heard it too?’ she said.

‘Yes, you wait here. I’m going next door to investigate.

‘Don’t go on your own. If Mr Cooper wakes up and sees you, he won’t know who on earth you are. I’ll come too.’

‘What about Dimitri?’

‘He’s fast asleep. Besides, I’ll lock the door behind us. No one can get in.’

‘But you’re not dressed.’

‘I have my pj’s on underneath,’ said Tina sticking out a leg to show the pink-checked cotton fabric. ‘Just let me put my shoes on.’ She shuffled her feet into her ballet pumps and, as an afterthought, exchanged her dressing gown for a hoody hanging in the hall.

‘You sure you don’t want to nip upstairs and do your make-up before we go? Wash your hair? Paint your nails?’ He smiled, but Tina could tell he was impatient to investigate next door. ‘Come on then, Tonto.’

Tina grabbed a torch from the kitchen cupboard as she followed John out of the back door, locking it behind her. She passed the key to him. ‘Can you put that in your pocket, please?’

He pushed it into the front pocket of his jeans and took the torch from her at the same time. ‘Right, how do we get in? Through this gate?’

‘Yes, it goes straight into Mr Cooper’s garden. The back door will probably be unlocked. I always tell him to lock it, but he never does.’

Tina followed John through the gate and round to the kitchen door. ‘When you said open, did you actually mean open, like this?’

The circular beam of light from the torch illuminated the kitchen door. It was ajar, not properly closed.

‘I definitely closed it when I left,’ said Tina, dropping her voice to a whisper. ‘Maybe a draught has caught it.’

‘You stay right behind me at all times,’ said John. He took his gun from his holster and rested his hand over the other which held the torch. He swung the torch light over and around the door. He hooked the bottom of the door with his foot and pulled it open wider. ‘Try not to touch anything,’ he instructed. ‘If someone has broken in they might have left fingerprints or some sort of evidence.’

The house was in total darkness as they entered, the shaft of light from the torch their only guide. Tina put her hand on John’s back. She felt safe having actual physical contact. There was an atmosphere in the house she hadn’t felt before. The kitchen she had been in countless times over the years seemed alien to her. The familiar cupboards and white goods were now just dark shadows and outlines. The stillness of the house was unnerving and she strained to listen for any sign that someone other than Mr Cooper was in the house. She wished she hadn’t been so insistent on coming.

John shone the light on the closed door of what was once the dining room. ‘Mr Cooper sleeps downstairs,’ said Tina as quietly as she could. They paused and listened intently. The faint sound of Mr Cooper’s rhythmic breathing filtered through. He gave a snuffle, mumbled something incoherent and then the steady in and out of his breathing resumed.

John gave a flick with the torch towards the living-room door, which was open. The street light cast a grungy yellow light pathway into the room. Tina smothered a startled yelp. A tall shadow in the corner of the room took her by surprise. Almost immediately she realised that it was just the standard lamp behind Mr Cooper’s armchair.

‘You all right?’ said John.

‘Yes, I’m fine.’ She didn’t feel remotely fine. The darkness of the house was oppressive. It felt heavy and foreboding. All Tina’s senses were telling her to get out, to run back to the safety of her own home, with all lights blazing brightly.

A creak from upstairs snapped her to attention. John had heard it too. They both looked up towards the ceiling. Another creak – this one slower, more deliberate. A muffled, indistinguishable sound followed. Again it had the feel of being a controlled noise, a slow and deliberate distribution of weight.

John moved into the hall, sweeping the shadows, his torch and gun in unison, the bottom tread of the staircase becoming illuminated. John placed his foot on the stair and slowly began the ascent. Tina followed. Her heart was beating heavily. As they neared the turn in the staircase, John stopped.

The silence weighed heavy, pushing down on Tina’s shoulders, squeezing her from the sides, condensing the space around her like a car being crushed at the scrapyard. Her instincts were urging her to turn and flee down the stairs. She moved ever so slightly closer to John. The movement of her feet on the tread caused a creak in the board. She stood still.

Not a sound could be heard. John moved around the half landing and up onto the first floor. Tina followed. John’s light beam settled on the open door of the front bedroom. Without hesitating, he went into the room. Tina waited in the doorway.

The moon shone through the naked glass and as Tina peered into the bedroom, she watched John check everywhere, even under the bed and behind the open curtains. He turned his attention to the window and reaching up, pulled the small fanlight shut, hooking the metal catch onto the prong.

‘There’s nothing here,’ he said, turning to face her. ‘It must have been this window causing the door to bang.’ He pushed his Glock into the safety of the holster.

Tina wasn’t convinced. ‘I didn’t realise the window was open and there’s not really any wind tonight.’

‘I’ll check the other rooms, if you like, but I’m sure this is our culprit.’

He sidestepped her as she stood in the doorway. Opening the doors to the other two rooms and the bathroom, he performed a sweep of each area, again checking under the beds and behind curtains. ‘Definitely nothing here.’

‘But you heard it too,’ said Tina. ‘It must have been sufficient for you to come and investigate.’

John looked thoughtful. ‘Maybe we are both a bit jittery. If there was anything more sinister here, it’s gone now.’

‘I don’t like it. There was definitely someone on the staircase, I’m certain. It wasn’t my imagination. Or yours.’

‘As I said, nothing here now.’ He steered her downstairs and towards the back door, pausing on the way to listen outside Mr Cooper’s room. ‘He’s snoring. He hasn’t been disturbed at all.’

Tina went to protest that she still wasn’t happy but then remembered that Dimitri was home alone. ‘Let’s get back.’

Tina watched Dimitri eye John from across the top of his cereal bowl. He had that look on his face he got when he was thinking about something. Tina and John had returned from Mr Cooper’s the previous night and the first thing she had done was check on her son. He was fast asleep, just as she had left him.

She had sat downstairs with John for ten minutes while they went over the events of that night, but neither of them had been able to come up with a completely plausible or reassuring explanation. In the end they had reluctantly decided to drop the subject. However, the incident was well and truly logged in Tina’s mind.

‘I’ve got to make a few calls,’ said John, standing up and taking his coffee with him, he hooked up his blue Harrington jacket.

‘Where’s your black coat?’ said Dimitri.

John looked round. ‘Black coat? I don’t have one.’

‘Yes you do,’ said Dimitri. He grinned as if John was teasing him.

‘Sorry, fella, but I definitely don’t have a black one.’

Dimitri dipped the spoon into the chocolate-coloured milk in his bowl. ‘You had it on last night.’

‘Last night?’ Tina stopped buttering her toast. ‘When did John have a black coat on?’

Dimitri looked from his mum to John.

‘You’re not in trouble,’ said Tina. ‘It’s just neither of us can remember the coat.’ She smiled reassuringly at her son, though the corners of her mouth felt tense. ‘Dimitri?’

‘When you came to see me in my room.’ Dimitri’s voice was matter of fact. He pushed the spoon into his mouth and noisily sucked the milk up.

John slowly sat back down at the table. Tina shot him a warning look. She would handle this.

‘And John was wearing a black jacket?’

Dimitri gave a big sigh. ‘Yes. I pretended to be asleep, but really I was peeking. You didn’t know, did you?’ This time his face lit up with excitement.

John shook his head and smiled.

‘No, I didn’t see you. That was clever of you.’

Another exchange of looks passed between Tina and John.

‘You’re very clever, indeed. Tell me, what was John doing when you saw him?’

Dimitri’s face broke into a broad smile of satisfaction. ‘You picked up Billy the Bear. Can I have him back now?’

‘Billy the Bear. He’s a stuffed toy.’ She noted the concerned look on John’s face. ‘Do you have Billy the Bear?’ Her voice was practically a whisper. John shook his head.

‘But you took him. I want him back.’ Dimitri let his spoon clang noisily into the bowl and sat back in his chair with folded arms.

‘I’ll find Billy the Bear later,’ said Tina. ‘In the meantime, we need to get you dressed for school. Come on. Let’s go and brush your teeth. There’s a good boy.’ Tina stood up and ushered Dimitri from the table.

Once upstairs, she left Dimitri in the bathroom brushing his teeth and hurried into her son’s bedroom. Billy the Bear, was a present from Sasha. He had given it to Tina when she found out she was pregnant. A gift for their unborn child. Billy the Bear usually sat on the bookshelf just inside the door. There was an empty spot the soft toy usually occupied.

Dimitri came into the room. ‘I told you, Mummy, John took Billy.’

The tide of foreboding that had been brewing, rushed her like a spring tide, drenching every fibre in Tina’s body with fear.