I sat down beside her, watching her face light up with animation as she got to work.

  ‘What are you doing?’ I asked her, as her fingers moved across the keyboard.

  ‘Well, not a lot is coming up for Caitlyn Dorsett. You can try as well if you want.’

  She pushed the laptop over to me and after fifteen minutes I accepted defeat. If that was her name, she certainly didn’t have much of an online presence.

  ‘They’re divorced though, right?’ Jessica said.

  ‘That’s what Max told me.’

  ‘So she could have gone back to her maiden name?’

  ‘Yes, I suppose so, but I don’t know what her maiden name was and I don’t know how we would find out.’

  Jessica pulled the laptop back towards her and started working away busily again. ‘Right,’ she said. ‘I’ve found somewhere I can search for historical marriage records online. He was married a while ago, wasn’t he? It might be long enough ago to be on this site.’

  I thought about it. ‘He said he got married when he was twenty, and she was twenty-two. He’s forty-five now, so twenty-five years ago.’

  ‘Any idea where?’

  ‘He’s always lived in Habmouth as far as I know. Perhaps that’s where he got married too – or somewhere nearby.’

  Jessica filled in a few details while I pulled my cardigan more tightly around myself. It was draughty in the conservatory, and the blinds weren’t down, the black expanse of glass making me feel oddly exposed.

  ‘Here!’ she said triumphantly. ‘Simple as that, look.’ She pointed to the screen and I leaned forward to see what she had found. ‘Max Dorsett,’ I read, and my eyes travelled across the screen. ‘Spouse’s surname, Riddock.’

  ‘Caitlyn Riddock,’ Jessica said. ‘That doesn’t sound like a particularly common name; we might be able to find her.’

  ‘She’ll be keeping a low profile, surely, if Max might still be interested in her.’

  ‘Maybe,’ Jessica said, as she tried searching for Caitlyn Riddock. Sure enough, there was little to be found, the search results showing women too old or too young to have been the woman Max had married.

  ‘He said she had a daughter,’ I said. ‘He thought she was his. Would that help?’

  Jessica paused for a second, ‘Look at this,’ she said, gesturing towards one of the search results – an old news article about a car accident. She opened it and we both quickly scanned through it. ‘Caitlyn Riddock, 38, was hit by a car and killed late on a Saturday evening, nine years ago,’ I said.

  ‘And she had her thirteen year old niece Grace Riddock staying with her and her family at the time,’ Jessica said.

  I sat back in my chair with a sigh, trying to process what it could all mean.

  ‘It’s probably not her,’ I said. ‘Max never said she was dead.’

  ‘But Max saw a photo of Caitlyn with a thirteen year old girl, isn’t that what he said? And this woman is exactly the right age to be the woman he married.’

  ‘Yes, but–’

  ‘Why was she out late on a Saturday night when she had a teenager staying with her as well as two younger kids of her own?’ Jessica asked.

  ‘Well, it says she lived with a fiancé, Tariq. He would have been at home with the kids.’

  ‘Even so. I think it’s odd.’

  ‘People get hit by cars sometimes, Jess. You can’t read more into this than there is.’

  ‘No, but think about it!’ she said insistently. ‘Don’t you think that photo he saw could have been a picture of Grace staying with her aunt Caitlyn? Max sees it, gets completely the wrong idea and goes and confronts his ex wife, thinking that Grace is his daughter that she’s been keeping secret?’

  ‘And, what, gets a stranger to run her over? It wasn’t Max driving the car. It was a tragic accident.’

  ‘Sometimes accidents aren’t accidents. Maybe he confronted her and she was running away from him, or so upset by him that she wasn’t looking where she was going. Who knows, maybe he pushed her into the road but the driver didn’t see him. It was dark – not long before midnight.’

  ‘That’s a lot of conclusions to draw from very little evidence.’

  ‘It sounds like something he’d do, though, doesn’t it?’

  I put my hand up to my forehead, where an ache was starting. ‘Yes,’ I said, ‘I suppose it does.’

  Habmouth

  44

  The banging broke through into my dreams until I woke with a start. ‘Poppy!’ Max’s voice called out. ‘Poppy, you can’t ignore me forever!’

  He hammered on the door again. ‘Poppy!’ He was trying the door handle and I started to shake. Sitting up in bed, I hugged my knees and willed him to go away. Before long there was silence and I crept out to the hall. The little security window in my door revealed an empty hallway, but at my feet was a folded sheet of paper he’d pushed under the door, and I picked it up with trembling fingers.

  You might have won this time. But I will never leave you alone. You don’t get to ruin my life and move on.

  I tore the paper in half in rage. After discovering Max didn’t have the knife, I’d slept the best I had for a long while, until he’d woken me by banging on my door. What an idiot I had been to think I would get even one night of respite! I ran over to the window, and when I pulled the curtain aside he was getting into his car. Drive away. Please, just drive away. Leave me alone.

  He didn’t drive away. His car was there for the rest of the night, and it was still there the next morning.

  The new year could be a fresh start for us, Max messaged me. I’m feeling forgiving. Let’s put all the unpleasantness behind us. I know you must be getting tired of this.

  Yes, I was tired of it. I was sick to death of it. My life had no meaning or purpose any more, not when I was too scared to go outside and face the risk of feeling his hand on my shoulder, or hearing his footsteps a pace behind me. But I wouldn’t give up. I’d conserve my strength, and then I would pick a moment that seemed safe, and make a run for it. Max would be starting back at the office after the Christmas break soon, I was sure of it – perhaps even the very next day – and I would have to seize my chance.

  Later that day, I packed my bag carefully, and settled down in bed to get an early night. I’d made my decision now, and though to begin with I’d been at a loss over where to run to, a face had drifted up hazily from the back of my mind – a face from a time when I had been safe, when the future had been something full of excitement and promise. It hadn’t taken me too long to track Harriet down online, and I’d quickly received a reply to my message asking for her address. I had just about enough money left to do what I needed to do. The sequence of events was simple enough. I only needed to get onto a bus without Max seeing me, and then before I knew it I’d be at the train station, boarding a train that would have me speeding away from Habmouth. I would change my phone number and email address, freeing myself from Max’s constant communications without the possibility that he would turn up at my door in a fit of rage. Harriet and Jessica would no doubt be surprised to have me arrive on their doorstep, but I would cross that bridge when I came to it. I had to go to somebody Max would never suspect. Somebody he wouldn’t even know about.

  I set an alarm, but woke well before it. Had I managed to get any real sleep at all? It didn’t feel much like it, though at the thought that this might be the day I escaped restless energy filled my body. Every time I had looked out of the window during the night Max’s car was still there, but if he was supposed to be starting back at the office today he would surely have gone back home to sleep – or at the very least to have a shower. I ran over to the window, but paused before I moved the curtain. What if he was still out there? I couldn’t bear it. Taking a deep breath, I yanked the curtain aside before I could talk myself out of looking, and I gawped at the bare spot in the road in front of the railway bridge. I blinked several times, but the spot remained empty. Neither was there any sign of him when I looked down my street in the other direction. He’d gone.

  I pulled on some clothes, doing everything as quickly as I could. It was possible Max might decide to drop by before he started work, but as he’d still been outside when I’d last checked out of the window at two a.m., I suspected he wouldn’t turn up at my flat this early in the morning. I had a last quick glance around the studio flat before I left. Please let it be the last time I see this place. If I had to come back here in five or ten minutes after having abandoned my plan to escape, I wouldn’t be able to bear it.

  The January morning was icy cold as I took the first step outside the door. Snow was forecast, and I pulled my coat tightly around me. Eyes darting all around, I sought out any sign of Max’s face, Max’s car, but there was nothing. Reaching the corner of the street, I rounded it quickly. The roads were quiet, and my nerves jangled alarmingly. Should I have tried at some other time of day? Maybe when there were crowds? But that wouldn’t help; Max could turn up at any time. Before Christmas he must have been working from home some days, or inventing some excuse to leave the office. There was no time of day that I could truly know I would be safe.

  The bus stop was deserted. I was five minutes early, and I stood impatiently under the shelter, unable to stop myself turning my head to check up the road, down the road. Just calm down. Any second now, it will all be over.

  ‘Poppy.’

  Jumping out of my skin at the voice behind me, I froze in horror. He’d crept up on me from the path behind the bus stop, and now he was standing beside me, so close I could feel the heat of his breath when he spoke. ‘Are you going somewhere?’ he asked, his eyes on my bag.

  ‘Max, please,’ I said, almost hysterical. ‘Just leave me alone! Please.’

  The bus was supposed to get here in just a few minutes. There were other people about now, some of them walking determinedly towards the stop. Max couldn’t make a scene, not with witnesses. If I could just get on the bus, I’d be safe, wouldn’t I? But he was standing right next to me. Even if, by some miracle, I did manage to get on the bus without him following, he’d seen the bag. He’d guess I was heading for the train station.

  Other people came and stood beside us, and Max stayed silently by my side. He would get on the bus with me, there was no doubt about that. I tried to think. If I could run away from him somehow there would be another train that went to Cattleford an hour later, I could just walk to the station. But he’ll wait for me at the train station. The station was big, but everyone had to go through the ticket barriers to get onto the platforms. He would wait for me in the foyer, and I’d be in no better situation than I was right now.

  The bus arrived, and once the doors hissed open I got on, and he got on behind me. It was busy this morning, and in the crush of people getting on to the bus I managed to seat myself near the door, while he was forced to sit a few rows back from me. All at once, a plan formed in my mind. It was mad, and it probably wouldn’t work, but what else did I have?

  45

  I fidgeted constantly, drumming my fingers on my knee. We were getting closer to the train station, but there was still one stop to go before we reached it. When we stopped there I’d wait until the last second, and then leap off the bus before Max even knew what was happening. He’d get off at the station, I knew that, but I would find somewhere to hide, take off my coat and change my appearance as much as I was able. I had an old hoodie of Dominic’s in my bag – I could put that on with the hood up. If he was fixated on looking for a woman with blonde hair in a plum coloured coat, he wouldn’t pay too much attention to a slim figure in a baggy grey hoodie, especially not when there was likely to be a crowd of people there at this time in the morning.

  The bus stopped and I slowed my breathing. A few people filed off, and some started getting on. I watched the queue, my pulse racing. The last person stepped on, and I grabbed my bag from beside my feet. This was my chance. Exploding out of my seat, I nearly stumbled and fell flat on my face in the aisle, but I steadied myself and raced to the doors just before they closed and the bus pulled away. I caught sight of Max’s face staring at me through the window, and I took a deep breath and ran.

  …

  Less than half an hour later, I nearly laughed out loud as the last of Habmouth disappeared and the train sped out into the countryside. My plan had worked – better than I could ever have expected. Despite spotting Max straight away at the station, with my hair tucked away and the hood close around my face he didn’t give me a second glance. I melted into the other crowds at the ticket machines, and when I risked sneaking a look back as I stepped out onto the platform, there he was hanging around the entrance, looking puzzled and lost. How long would he stand there for? Just a few more minutes? Or would he wait for hours, searching in vain for the woman in the purple coat who would never arrive? I took great gulps of air. God knows what I was going to say to Harriet and Jessica. And Dominic, for that matter. But right now that didn’t matter. Right now all that mattered was that I was safe. My phone beeped:

  I don’t know how you did it Poppy, but I will find you. I don’t care what it takes. I will find you.

  I blocked his number. Yes, it would infuriate him, but now I’d escaped and I knew he didn’t have the knife, I didn’t care about making him angry. His words couldn’t hurt me any more.

  Cattleford

  I barely slept. I lay on my bed, trying to rest, though the knowledge that Harriet was in the house made my skin crawl. But Jessica had been right. It was too late at night to go anywhere else, and Dominic was coming here, it would freak him out if I suddenly gave him a different address.

  I got up early, thankful that there was no sign of Harriet, and after showering I set to work packing up my belongings, mind whirring. If I left with Dominic, perhaps we could get a flat together. He had his student loan and his job at the restaurant. Maybe once I’d had the baby I could find some childcare and get a job. But what if there really is an audit at QHM? What if I get caught?

  I heard Jessica and Reef go out, and then a short time later the front door slammed shut as Harriet left for the shop. I spent the morning drifting listlessly around the house, exchanging a few words with Jessica once she returned after dropping Reef at school, but her mood was heavy too, and the house was oppressive with misery. The thought of Max’s ex-wife Caitlyn kept turning over in my mind. Was Jessica right? Was the Caitlyn we’d found online really the Caitlyn Max had been married to? And if so, had Max been involved in her death somehow? It was a bit of a coincidence that he mentioned seeing a photo of her with a teenager right around the time that she died, when the Caitlyn we’d discovered had had a teenage niece staying with her.

  I had to stop dwelling on it. It wasn’t helping me. I tried to focus all my energy on imagining the moment when Dominic arrived. How I would feel when I caught sight of his face – his hair that would have grown too long while he was away – his warm brown eyes that still took me back to the days he’d turn his little heart-shaped face up to me as a child, the days when I had been his whole world. I had to forget Max, and Harriet. I had to put them in the past where they belonged. Hopefully I wouldn’t even have to lay eyes on Harriet again since she’d hidden away at the shop, no doubt too ashamed to face me.

  I messaged Dominic, saying that I was happy to come and meet him at the station, but he insisted it was fine and that when his train got in he’d make his own way to Harriet’s house. The time passed excruciatingly slowly, and once it was mid afternoon and I knew it wasn’t too much longer until I would finally hold Dominic in my arms, the front door slammed and I dashed downstairs.

  ‘Harriet,’ I said flatly. Of course it was Harriet. It was hardly like Dominic had a key to the house.

  ‘Poppy,’ she said, her voice like glass.

  I was so shocked to suddenly be presented with her that my mind went completely blank. ‘Dominic will be here soon,’ I said, since no other words came to me.

  ‘How nice for you.’

  She made her way through to the kitchen and started filling the kettle, and I followed her. ‘Are you still not going to even try and explain yourself?’ I said, my voice rising.

  ‘I have nothing to explain.’

  ‘Nothing to…’ I stared at her in astonishment. ‘Harriet–’

  ‘I thought we were friends!’ she said. ‘I thought you trusted me.’

  ‘And I thought the same.’

  She pointed her finger at me. ‘No, you thought I was going to steal your baby!’

  ‘You were going to steal my baby!’ I said, although my voice faltered. She wasn’t acting how I expected her to. She didn’t seem guilty. She seemed hurt, if anything. ‘You’ve given no other explanation for what you were up to,’ I continued. ‘And all this so-called looking after me, all these gifts, the hospital bag, the plan you hatched to get me out of the way–’

  ‘Yes, that’s right,’ Harriet said, her voice scathing. ‘Just because you know I can’t have a baby of my own and I’ve shown an interest in yours, of course that makes me some sort of child abductor.’

  ‘Then prove that I’m wrong! Why did you find out about getting a passport for a baby behind my back if it wasn’t because you wanted to take him out of the country without my knowledge?’

  ‘I don’t want to tell you why I was doing it. Why should I explain myself to somebody who makes such vile accusations about me? You don’t want my help? Fine. Go off with Dominic and throw everything I’ve been trying to do for you back in my face.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ I said. ‘What are you trying to do for me? It seems to me like the only person you’ve been thinking about is yourself!’

  Harriet scooped up her phone from the work top and started jabbing angrily at the screen. ‘Here,’ she said, holding it out to me. ‘Read it.’

  I took the phone from her, though the words swam in front of my eyes for a moment. ‘Plane tickets,’ I said.

  ‘Yes. For all of us. Even Dominic.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22