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  I looked at her. I was scared now because nothing made sense. I tried to move my hands but I don’t know if I managed it or not.

  I was aware of moving. Being pushed. Outside. I saw a dog, looking on from the door where the man stood. The man. Was he the policeman? Was he my husband? Or him? I couldn’t find the name in my head as pain washed over me.

  The man blurred as they loaded me into the ambulance. I could see him swim in and out of focus until I was sure I was seeing the ghost of someone I used to know.

  That boy.

  I blinked and he disappeared.

  The doors of the ambulance were closed. Through the back window I could see the old farmhouse. It had never looked imposing before. But its shadow against the fading light made me shiver.

  ‘Are you okay, Elizabeth?’ the paramedic asked.

  I couldn’t answer, but even if I could, I doubt I would have known what to say. Something was very, very wrong and I’d never been so scared in my life.

  I was so tired that despite the pain in my head, and the noise in the ward outside, I could barely keep my eyes open. I had no idea what time it was, except that it was dark. I couldn’t remember what day it was, either. Struggled to remember why I was here.

  Memories slipped in and slipped out again just as quickly. Doctors all around me. Soft voices. It was hard to pinpoint which of those memories related to today and which had been pulled from the recesses of my mind.

  Someone had mentioned a stroke. I’d tried to answer – my words muddled, slurred. I felt some tingling in my right hand – the pull of the cannula in my vein if I tried to move. My left hand, my left side, continued to be useless.

  That policeman, I couldn’t remember his name, he stayed with me for a while. Told me he’d contacted my son-in-law. I wondered why he hadn’t contacted Laura. Maybe she was at work …

  ‘Don’t worry about your dog,’ he’d said. ‘One of my colleagues has taken her to your son-in-law’s house.’ He’d looked genuinely worried about me.

  Had he been in my house, that policeman? I couldn’t remember. Thinking made me so tired. I couldn’t keep my eyes open.

  When I woke, a nurse was by my side, telling me I was doing well, but I wondered why I was alone. Why hadn’t my family come to be with me? Where were they?

  A tear slid down my cheek and the nurse wiped it away.

  ‘It’s okay to be scared, Elizabeth. You’ve been through an ordeal. But you’re in the best place now and you’re getting the gold standard care. I’m told you’re a legend around these parts.’

  I tried to smile – was aware my mouth wouldn’t do what it was supposed to. I kept losing my train of thought. It was as if everything I needed to know was hidden behind a filter that blurred all the edges.

  There was something about a photograph there.

  An orange T-shirt. Too bright.

  And a warning.

  Wednesday, 13 June

  Chapter Forty

  Rachel

  Getting out to see Michael wasn’t easy. The girls were clingy. Paul had decided to stay with us and not go to Belfast. He’d been attentive, warm even, at breakfast. I’d barely slept all night. I knew I needed to make a tough decision. In my head it was probably already made, but I needed to see him all the same.

  I needed to tell him just how complicated everything was. How it was becoming more and more complicated with every day. It had been different before, when I thought Paul didn’t love me and no longer had a vested interest in our marriage. Before Clare died. Before I felt my family was threatened from all angles.

  Michael’s plea to run away with him had been running through my head. Each and every time I thought of leaving the girls, my heart twisted. And in the darkness of that hotel room, my family all so close that I could hear their breathing, the reality of leaving them – hurting them – seemed so alien to me.

  Regardless of what had been happening, it had started to dawn on me that I’d been risking it all over the last months without making the effort to fix the broken pieces first. I was to blame as much as Paul was. We’d both let each other down so badly.

  I woke to Molly still in the bed beside me, her small, pudgy hand caressing my face as if I were the most precious possession in the world.

  ‘I love you, Mammy,’ she said as my eyes flickered open.

  Her love was pure. Without motive. Unconditional. In the early hours in a darkened hotel room, it took my breath away.

  We decided to go home after that one night. To try to make this very abnormal situation more normal for the girls. We had our alarms in place. The house was safer. The girls wouldn’t be going to school or daycare again until everything was settled.

  Molly had clung to me as we’d walked in the front door, afraid of every shadow and every corner.

  ‘What if the bad man is here?’ she’d asked.

  ‘He can’t get in,’ Paul had assured her. ‘The police have put a big magic shield around the house to stop any bad men getting inside. If they so much as touch it, the police come and take them right to jail.’

  Molly had looked at me for reassurance that what her daddy had told her was true. I’d nodded and in that moment, I saw a glimpse of the man I’d fallen in love with. Safe. Secure. Loving. My partner. Not perfect, of course, but then neither was I. I never would be.

  In a selfish way, I still wanted Michael. Still tried to run through useless scenarios in my head in which I could have my cake and eat it. But there was no solution that would work. I knew that. When all was said and done, I needed my family more than I needed him. And more than anything, they needed me.

  I couldn’t seem to sit still. Walked through the house cleaning everything that stood still. Keeping busy until I started to ache. I thought if I kept busy I’d feel less scared. That I’d feel less confused. Less guilty. More sure of myself.

  By late afternoon, when the sun was hot and the house so stifling I was sure I was at risk of combusting, I finally decided that I simply had to see Michael, to tell him that I did need the space he’d offered me only a few days before. In fact, I needed more than that.

  ‘I’m nipping to the supermarket,’ I said to Paul.

  ‘Is that wise?’ he asked. ‘I could go instead.’

  His voice wasn’t harsh. His tone was not argumentative, as it had been before. He sounded concerned – genuinely concerned.

  ‘I’ll take that phone the police gave me and I won’t be long. Paul, I can’t be a prisoner in my own house forever.’

  I was fishing through the cupboards, pulling out a selection of ‘bags for life’ to take with me. The truth was, we did need some shopping, and if I was as quick as I could be around the supermarket, I was sure I could make just a little time to see Michael. I’d text him and ask him to meet me.

  ‘Well, maybe I should come with you,’ Paul said, interrupting my thoughts.

  I told him that wouldn’t be necessary probably more quickly than I should have.

  ‘You should stay with the girls. They need you,’ I added. ‘Besides, I think I just need some air.’

  ‘I know you’re still angry with me, Rachel, about what happened, what I did. And you’ve every right to be. All I can tell you is that I’m sorry, more sorry than I can ever express. It didn’t mean anything. She means nothing. She won’t be part of my life ever again. It was just a way to release tension and I regretted it immediately. She …’

  I put my hand up, shook my head. I had no desire to hear any more details. I didn’t want to hear any more when I had secrets of my own I hadn’t confessed to. Secrets that differed from Paul’s because unlike his, mine did mean something. Had meant something. It would have been easier if they hadn’t. I wouldn’t feel the need to tell the man I was meeting, face-to-face, that not only would I not be running away with him, I also had to stop seeing him.

  ‘It’s not about that. I just need some air, Paul. That’s all it is. I’ve got cabin fever. Claustrophobia. It’s daylight. I’ll be in a very public p
lace. I’ll have the alarm phone with me. If anything happens, I just have to press a button and the police will know exactly where I am. They’ll be there in minutes. I’ll go to Tesco, to be extra secure. Sure, it’s only across the street from the police station.’

  ‘Just be careful,’ he said as I picked up my bag and keys. ‘We need you. I need you.’

  He moved towards me. For a second I thought he was going to kiss me, but something held him back. We had a long way to go to attempt to save this marriage of ours. It wouldn’t be easy. There’d be no guarantees. We’d have to learn how to talk to each other again. To be with each other. To not fear touching each other.

  ‘I won’t be long,’ I said. ‘I promise.’ I smiled, tried to show him I was willing to listen.

  I sent a quick text to Michael before I left. Asked him to meet me in forty-five minutes at the old car park at Ness Woods, a small country park about five miles outside Derry, situated off a small, winding country road. That car park had fallen out of favour some years previously when a new one, complete with a visitors’ centre, had been opened a few miles down the road. Very few people used the old entrance any more and it was likely to be very quiet at this time of day. We’d be safe.

  An immediate reply told me Michael would see me there and that he couldn’t wait. I drove off, hoping I was making the right decision.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Rachel

  I hurried around the supermarket in a daze. I kept my head low. I felt vulnerable in a way I never had before, reluctant to draw attention to myself. I threw items into my trolley – the basics to get us through a couple of days – and tried to shut out any unwelcome thoughts.

  What if the killer had followed me here? He mightn’t be able to hurt me, here in this public place, but he could still get close enough to touch me. To spook me. To find more out about me. More ways to inveigle his way into my life. Could he be the man who’d asked me if the brand of shampoo he was buying was the best for highlighted hair? Who’d said his wife had asked him to pick some up and he didn’t want to get it wrong? Could he have been the man who’d brushed into me as I waited at the checkout line? He’d apologised profusely, taking a cursory glance at my trolley. Was that something more sinister than simple nosiness?

  I didn’t know who to trust, and I found myself fumbling with my purse and bank cards as I paid for my shopping and packed it into bags.

  ‘You’re all fingers and thumbs,’ the cashier said with a smile.

  I gave her a weak smile. A wicked part of me wondered if I should tell her the truth. That she would be on edge, too, if she was possibly being hunted by a killer.

  Crossing the car park, I felt my pulse quicken as I pushed my trolley between lanes, hyperaware of the moving cars around me. Aware of doors opening and closing. Aware of the man standing by the trolley station, smoking a cigarette and looking around as if he was waiting for someone. I assigned his more distinctive features to my memory: a tattoo the full length of the calf of his left leg of a footballer mid strike. A Celtic band tattooed on his arm. A red Adidas T-shirt, baggy grey shorts. Sunglasses. Stubble. Short back and sides.

  As I loaded the last of my bags into the car, he walked away – waving to a young woman pushing a trolley out of the shopping centre.

  I climbed into my car and as I reversed out of my space, I saw a familiar-looking blue car in my rear-view mirror. I couldn’t be sure, but I was fairly confident it was the same one that had stopped in the lay-by where Michael and I had last met. There was no one in the driver’s seat, but even so, I pulled an envelope and a pen from my bag and scribbled down the registration number.

  Trying to settle myself, I set off on the short drive to meet Michael. But as I was still queuing to leave the car park, I noticed the same blue car was second in line behind me. The beeping of a car horn brought me back to my senses. The queue of traffic in front of me had cleared while I was staring through my rear-view mirror. Hands shaking, I drove off.

  My eyes darted to the mirror again. The blue car was now directly behind me. I could just make out the shape of a figure driving, the same black hoodie that I’d seen before was pulled up over their head. Was it the same hoodie-wearer who’d been outside Molly’s crèche?

  I reached my hand across to the passenger seat, felt around for the phone the police had given me. All I would have to do was press one button.

  I remembered the police station across the street, so I doubled back on myself. The blue car turned too, continued following me. It was only when I pulled into the lay-by outside the station gates that it sped up and raced past. Trembling, I put my head on the steering wheel and wished for everything to go away. I jumped when my own mobile rang seconds later. It was Michael phoning to see if I was on my way.

  Hearing the timbre of my voice, he knew something was up.

  ‘Rachel, are you okay? What’s wrong?’

  I was shaking so hard by then that my teeth were chattering and I couldn’t stop shivering.

  ‘I think I’ve just been followed.’

  I heard a sharp intake of breath. ‘Who by? Where are you?’

  ‘Remember that blue car that was at the lay-by the other night? It followed me out of the Tesco car park. I’m sitting outside Waterside Police Station now. I figured if I drove here, whoever it was wouldn’t be able to get to me.’

  ‘Jesus, Rachel! I don’t like this. Stay there. I’ll come to you.’

  I shook my head. ‘It’s too public here, Michael. We might be seen.’

  ‘Does it matter? Can we not just be seen?’

  He was pleading and I knew he wanted me to say to him that I didn’t care if anyone found out, but I did. I had to care.

  ‘Please, Michael. I … I’m sure he’s gone now. I’ll come to you. It’ll be okay.’

  With more than a hint of frustration in his voice, he agreed to wait for me. Told me to be careful, just as Paul had done.

  My nerves were still on edge as I turned the car onto Oughtagh Road towards the country park. Even the dappled shadows from the trees on the ground had taken on a sinister look. I kept glancing back in my rear-view mirror, wondering if I’d see that blue car again, wondering what I’d do if I did.

  When I finally reached the car park, I sagged with relief to see Michael’s car. Tears sprang to my eyes when he got out of it and starting walking towards me, enveloped me in a bear hug so tight that it stilled my shaking. I let him whisper that everything would be okay. Let him whisper that he wanted to protect me. I let him tell me he loved me, even though I knew that I was going to hurt him.

  ‘I know in the grand scheme of things we’ve not known each other that long, but sometimes you just know, Rachel, and I know with you. The thought that someone could hurt you …’

  His voice trailed off and I looked up into his green eyes, so vibrant against his swarthy skin. He bent his head towards me and kissed me, full on the lips with such tenderness that I wished I could feel like I did in that second forever.

  I should have pushed him away. I knew that in kissing him back I was lying both to him and to myself, but I needed this. I needed him. Adrenaline was still coursing through my veins. My senses were still on high alert and I couldn’t resist.

  I allowed the tenderness of his kiss to give way to passion. I gave myself permission to give in to my body’s desire.

  ‘I don’t have long,’ I whispered to him as his lips snaked their way down my neck.

  His hand slid from my waist to my breast, cupping it gently until I gasped with pleasure. I stumbled backwards, felt his body push mine against the side of my car. I could feel he was hard, could tell from the way he hitched my skirt up, pressing himself against me so that I felt the delicious weight of him pinning me to the car, that he wanted me.

  I could shut everything out. I could pretend not to be scared. Or hurt. Or confused. I could give in to my base desire just to feel desirable. To feel wanted.

  I pushed him back from me for just a moment. Just enough t
o open the car door. I stood in front of him, lifted my T-shirt over my head and then lay across the back seat.

  He bent down and climbed in over me, his hand sliding up the bare skin of my legs to my thighs, pushing them apart. I slid my hands inside his T-shirt to feel the firmness of his muscles, the soft hairs on his chest, and I couldn’t hold back any longer.

  I unbuckled his jeans, revelled at his sharp intake of breath as I took him in my hand, and then revelled in my own pleasure as he took control, pushed my hands above my head and entered me.

  For those minutes, nothing else mattered. There was silence amid the chaos and calm instead of fear. It was the perfect lie.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Rachel

  ‘Have you thought about what I said?’ Michael asked afterwards. ‘Because I was serious, you know. Even though I know it’s complicated. Come away with me. We can start again elsewhere and no one needs to know it’s us.’

  ‘That’s a lovely fantasy,’ I told him.

  We were still wrapped together, our bodies sticky with sweat.

  ‘It doesn’t just have to be a fantasy, Rachel. I know it sounds all romantic and corny, but let me take you away from all this. To somewhere safe. I’ve got some savings. I can keep us afloat until I find more work. That’s the thing with being a carpenter, I have skills and I can travel with them. You can work anywhere. Teach. English or creative writing, or take that time out – you always wanted to write a book. But most of all, just be away from this, from Paul and from this psychopath.’

  As pretty as that picture was, it wasn’t realistic. Real life was different. What kind of mother would I be to leave my children in the midst of such trauma? How selfish would I be just to walk away? Didn’t what Paul and I had – what we’d shared for seventeen years now – didn’t that deserve another chance at least?

  And what if the killer didn’t stop just because I was gone – if he turned his attention solely to Julie, or to my girls?