My Husband's Son: A dark and gripping psychological thriller (25 page)

He sat next to me on the sofa and before he relaxed against the cushions, he reached across to tuck a stray hair behind my ear. As he withdrew his hand, his finger brushed against the delicate skin there and I shivered. I pushed the corners of my mouth into an encouraging smile. I wasn’t sure of his plan, but I needed to make him trust me and if that involved him believing his feelings were reciprocated, then so be it. I figured that if I could get him to drop his guard even a little, I might be able to take my chance and steal the boy away.

‘Jenny kept him hidden for a good few weeks before Keith found out.’ He gulped at his whisky and rested his glass on his thigh. ‘He hadn’t seen or heard from her in a while and she wasn’t returning his calls, so he went to the house. There was no answer at the front door, so he went the round the back. There they were, her and the kid, painting collages at the kitchen table. There’d been so much news coverage. Keith recognised him immediately.’ He shifted on his haunches, trying to get comfortable. ‘Keith’s first instinct was to give him back, no matter what the consequences for Jenny. It was the right thing to do. Jenny agreed but begged for a last night alone with the kid, so she could say goodbye. Keith went home. But then something happened.’

He traced his finger around the rim of his glass and I sensed we were coming to a part of the story he would rather forget.

‘The next day Jenny’s social worker called. Her case had been reviewed and, after years in foster care, Kimberley and Jake were going to be returned.’

He waved his glass in my face and nodded at the bottle of whisky on the cabinet. I did as he asked, making sure to pour him an extra-large measure. I had no idea how well he could or couldn’t hold his booze but, at the very least, I hoped it would compromise his reaction times.

I was about to return to the sofa when I noticed my handbag on the floor. I must have dropped it when he dragged me into the room. Most of the contents, including my mobile, had spilled out onto the carpet, not far from where I stood. I looked at my phone. It was inches away from my left foot. Jason was the last person I’d called. All I needed to do was reach down, press a button and it would start ringing. Once the line was open Jason would be able to listen in on everything Tommy said. If I could find a way to mention our location and make him realise what was going on, he could raise the alarm.

It was a bit of a hit-and-miss plan but, right now, it was all I had. The only problem was how to get near the phone without Tommy realising what I was up to.

On the wall in front of me was a framed watercolour. In its glass I could see Tommy’s outline on the sofa. I looked to my far right, to where Barney was sitting on the other side of the room. If Tommy caught me in the act, who knew what he might do to me or the child? But then, what was the alternative? Do nothing and wait for him to hurt us anyway? I had no choice. I had to try.

My heart thudding, I moved forward, as though I was about to lift his glass off the cabinet. At the same time, I used the back of my hand to flick the top of the whisky bottle onto the floor. Tutting at my own clumsiness, I got down on my knees. While I retrieved the bottle top, I used my other hand to reach for my phone.

Tommy was on his feet in an instant.

‘What are you doing?’

My phone was underneath me. As long as I stayed like this it would be shielded from his view. I had to find a way to hide it, but where? I had no long sleeves to slip it into and its rectangular shape was too large to hide in my fist. My only option was to secrete it under the cabinet to my right. But there was only a thin gap between it and the carpet. Would it fit in such a small space? Inching my knee forward, I gave it a sharp shove towards the gap and, to disguise the movement, simultaneously lifted my hand in the hair.

‘I dropped the bottle top.’ I trembled as I gave Tommy the metal lid. ‘I was just bending down to get it.’

He checked the carpet, suspicious. I tensed, not sure how far under the cabinet I’d managed to get the phone. Closing my eyes, I braced myself. If Tommy saw even so much as a corner of it peeking out, I was done for. But I must have wedged the phone further in than I’d thought, because the next thing I knew he was guiding me back to the sofa.

This time, as he retook his seat I noticed he made sure not to slouch.

Curious as to the source of all the commotion, the boy turned away from the TV and looked in our direction. I tried to give him a reassuring smile but as I widened my lips I realised my teeth were chattering. I didn’t want him or Tommy to see my fear and so I squeezed my jaws together. My mobile phone lost somewhere underneath the cabinet, I decided to abandon any hope of outside help or rescue. The only person who was going to get the two of us out of here was me.

‘Unsurprisingly,’ he said, returning to his story, ‘that call changed things. Keith didn’t want to do anything that might put Jenny’s reunion with Kim and Jake in jeopardy. They needed a plan that would allow them to give the child back without implicating Jenny.’

He sighed and I realised he was retreating into himself again. Not wanting to waste any more time, I tried releasing my jaw a little and was relieved to find that the chattering had subsided.

‘What did he decide?’ I coaxed, getting him to focus.

He lit a cigarette and took a drag.

‘He had some notion of leaving him in the street with a name tag or outside a police station, somewhere he’d be found safely and quickly.’ He scratched at his beard. ‘Meanwhile, Jenny was becoming more and more attached to the child.’

Tommy cleared his throat, readying himself for the next part of his story.

‘Keith is all set to go through with it. It’s getting harder and harder to keep the child a secret.’ Tommy’s voice had changed. It was becoming more confident. He seemed to be coming to the part of the story he was the most comfortable with. ‘That morning he goes round to Jenny’s house. She’s watching something on TV, some drama, and one of the parents smacks the kid. Mikey turns to Jenny and says, “My Daddy does that to me. He makes me cry.” ’

‘What?’ I was incredulous.

Tommy shrugged, not caring to get into it.

‘Mikey made it sound like a regular thing. After that Jenny was adamant. She would not give him back. She made all kinds of threats.’

‘Threats?’

‘She told Keith that if he tried to return the child anonymously she’d report him. She said that now he was involved and she’d make sure everyone knew it.’

‘And he agreed?’

He nodded at Barney. ‘What do you think?’

I thought of Kimberley, behind the counter in the caff.

‘Jenny kept him even after she got her kids back?’

‘She told Kimberley and Jake that while they were gone she’d had another baby. They still don’t know any different.’

He smiled at the boy.

‘I remember the first time I met him. He was such a funny little thing. He kept whistling the tune to this advert he liked, except he couldn’t really whistle properly. It made me laugh.’

I followed his gaze. Wearing trainers with flashing red lights in the soles and totally absorbed in watching his cartoon, the child was oblivious to us and the things we talked about. Things that had decided the course of his life so far. In his features I could see the curve of Vicky’s lips and the line of Jason’s nose. I tried to imagine what it would be like to have him in front of the TV in our living room at home. His toys scattered all over the floor, a third place at the dinner table. Would Jason and Vicky share custody or would they have to see him together for a period of time, until he could readjust?

Tommy had emptied his glass and so he got up for another. While he helped himself to the last of the whisky, I took the opportunity to scan the length of the room from right to left. The boy was sitting watching TV by the window, the farthest spot from the exit door. Not only that, but I realised the whole time I’d been here Tommy had made sure to keep himself positioned between me and the child. I took in his bull-like back, arms and shoulders. If I tried to get past him, he’d easily overpower me. I wouldn’t stand a chance. No, I needed to find a way to get Barney nearer to the door, somewhere that Tommy could no longer act as a human barrier. That way, if and when the time came, I’d have half a chance of being able to grab Barney’s hand and making a run for it.

‘What about you?’ I asked, struggling to understand his place in it all. ‘How did you get involved?’

He laughed and returned to the sofa.

‘Hard not to. You know what they say about family affairs.’

‘Family?’

‘Keith and Jenny are my brother and sister. Half-brother and sister if you want to get technical.’

I thought about the difference in accent between him and Keith.

‘We grew up in different parts of the country,’ he explained, acknowledging the puzzled look on my face. ‘Every holiday Dad would bring me to stay with them.’ He smiled. ‘We’ve always been close.’

I thought of the bleached-out snap in its silver frame. Tommy had said it was of him and his brother and sister: Keith and Jenny.

‘So you took care of Barney, the three of you?’

‘I was in the Navy from the age of eighteen.’ He rubbed the tattoo on his right forearm. ‘By the time I came out, Keith and Jenny had been taking care of him for a couple of years. At first, they’d made sure to move around every few months or whenever people started asking questions. But then they started to relax.’

He was starting to slur. Good. The whisky was taking its toll.

‘Mikey adores Jenny. As far as he’s concerned, she’s his mother. And he loves his brother and sister. He’s happy.’

I wanted to scream at him. To rail and shout about how much unnecessary heartache they’d caused. To make him understand that their selfishness had ruined Jason’s and Vicky’s lives. It galled me, but I had to keep my mouth shut. I gave him the sweetest smile I could.

He reached out to stroke my cheek.

‘We raised him and loved him like our own blood, Heidi, you have to know that.’

But, I thought, he wasn’t your son to raise.

‘So you haven’t hurt him,’ I asked, working hard to keep the bite out of my tone. ‘Keith and Jenny haven’t hurt him?’

He recoiled, shocked at the suggestion.

‘We would never do that. We wanted to protect him.’ His voice dipped an octave. ‘We’d do anything to keep on protecting him.’

My veins felt like they were slowly being lined with concrete. Concrete that would harden and expand, busting me up from the inside out. I nodded and took his hand in mine. I’d worked it out. I’d realised the only way I might be able to get the boy closer to the door.

‘Why come back to the North-East after all this time, to where he was first taken? Surely that was asking for trouble?’

‘We had no choice. Keith and Jenny are from round here. Their mum was diagnosed last year. Liver cancer. Stage four. They were desperate to come and be with her for the final months. I knew it would be risky, but what can you do, it was their mum.’

‘Was?’

‘She died last week.’

‘And Keith and Jenny?’ I asked. If my plan was going to work then I needed to make sure they weren’t due to turn up here at any moment or that they were waiting downstairs in the car park. ‘Do they know you’re here with me? Do they know that I know?’

‘Jenny knows nothing about any of this and Keith never recognised you. He has no idea who you are. He doesn’t read as many papers as I do.’

‘But where are they now?’ I asked, anxious for specifics.

‘They’re staying here tonight, in the hotel. Jenny’s at work. Late shift. Keith’s got some mates over to watch the football.’

‘Look,’ he said, misreading the expression on my face. ‘You don’t need to worry. I’m going to talk to Keith and Jenny, explain your connection, assure them you can be trusted. I know you’ve had the odd wobble. Totally understandable. But you’ve more than proved yourself.’

The reason I thought I was here kept shifting. Tommy wanted to introduce me to Keith and Jenny. That meant he thought I was still on side. He hadn’t brought me here to hurt me. But what would happen if I did something to make him doubt that? What then?

‘I know you find it hard to admit.’ He took my hand and placed it on my sternum. Then, gently, his hand on top of mine, he began guiding it down, inside my blouse. ‘How much you like me, how much you like what I do.’ His hand still on top of mine, he pushed my fingers in underneath the edge of my bra. ‘But that’s all part of it, isn’t it Heidi?’

I wanted to contradict him but I didn’t, I couldn’t. I needed him to keep believing everything he’d just said was true.

‘You’re obviously not getting what you need from your husband, otherwise why do you keep coming back for more?’

He nudged my fingers forward, onto my nipple, and withdrew his hand. Then he sat there for a few seconds, watching. When I held the pose he’d created, he smiled, vindicated.

‘We’re leaving in the morning. Come with us if you like.’ He nodded at my hand, still inside my bra. ‘We could have fun. Real fun. Where do you fancy? Spain? France?’

‘You want me to run away? With
you?
’

I failed to hide my displeasure and he moved back, away from me.

‘I mean, it’s just – leaving the country,’ I said, trying to backtrack. I adjusted my bra and withdrew my hand. ‘Seems a bit extreme.’ But it was too late. I’d messed up. His lips were puckered, his eyes narrowed. I was losing him.

‘What?’ His voice was thick with contempt. ‘You want to stay here with your husband? With those stories he peddles to the police and the press. You want to stay with a liar?’

Liar? I thought about the argument I’d had with Jason this morning.

‘He never told you?’ He shook his head. ‘You really don’t know?’

I didn’t rise to the bait.

‘Everything he and his missus said happened that day is a fairy tale. I don’t know why they lied, but they did.’

There was no way he could know the secrets Jason had shared with me. It wasn’t possible.

‘Jenny thought it was because she felt guilty, the wife. If she hadn’t left him alone like she did, then it would never have happened.’