Be Careful What You Hear (9 page)

I wanted to
check on Grace first. It wasn’t unknown for her to sleep through
the night – we’d been extremely lucky in that respect. But when I
hadn’t heard from her for all those hours, it always sparked
anxiety in me.

‘Hello,
poppet,’ I whispered, standing over the cot. She was still asleep.
The unfamiliar surroundings and even the storm obviously hadn’t
disturbed her the way it had her mother.

‘Morning,
George,’ James said from behind me.

I didn’t turn
around. I just kept my eyes on Grace. ‘Morning.’

‘Did you sleep
okay?’

‘Yes,
surprisingly. How about you?’ I felt that I needed to ask.

‘Woke up a few
times. The sofa is not the most comfortable. But I deserve it.’

‘I didn’t do it
to punish you,’ I said, turning to face him.

‘I know. I
know. Do you fancy breakfast?’

I nodded and we
settled down to eat.

‘What would you
like to do?’ James asked, as we tucked into a bowl of granola
each.

‘What do you
mean?’

‘Do you want to
pack up and leave this morning? Go home?’

‘I don’t know.’
I honestly hadn’t thought about it, even though now the question
had been asked it seemed a perfectly reasonable thing to have
considered.

James seemed
surprised by my lack of conviction. ‘I thought you might want to
get home as soon as possible, and send me packing.’ He seemed
deadly serious.

‘I won’t be
doing that,’ I replied, without really thinking. Whether it was my
heart talking or not, I don’t know. But I knew as soon as the words
left my lips that it
was
what I wanted. ‘That doesn’t mean
there aren’t going to be hard times,’ I added. ‘It will take
time.’

‘Thank you,’
James smiled, reaching out to take my hand. I pulled it away before
it met mine. He nodded his understanding. ‘If you do decide that
it’s best for us to go home early, then I totally understand.’

‘Maybe it’s
best that we deal with it here,’ I said.

‘Maybe.’

He got up and
dropped his empty bowl into the sink. ‘Well, we survived the
storm,’ he said, gazing out of the kitchen window at the now calm
world outside. ‘We could go for a walk along the coast later,’ he
said, returning to his seat. ‘There’s a lovely Blue Flag beach just
a mile down from here.’

‘Sounds good.’
I heard Grace stirring from the bedroom. ‘You know,’ I said, before
I left to see to her, ‘my mother used to say that you don’t measure
the strength of a marriage in the best of times; you measure it in
the worst of times.’

***

We went for
our walk along the coast, taking in the beauty of the North Devon
environment. The weather was clear, fresh and bright, affording us
spectacular views along the coastline and out to sea. We descended
to the beach that James had mentioned, and spent an hour exploring
the rock pools and caves that had been left exposed by the
retreating tide. Grace was snug in the baby carrier, sleeping part
of the time. She particularly enjoyed seeing the sea life that had
been left stranded in the pools – including several starfish and a
crab.

Things felt
strangely normal while we were out. We even shared a few laughs,
although there was no physical contact. It was only upon our return
to the cottage for lunch that I again began to brood over the
affair.

And then, just
after we had finished lunch, someone knocked at the door.

We looked at
one another. Then James jumped up and peered around the kitchen
window, to see if he could catch sight of the visitor.

‘I’d better
answer it,’ he said, making for the door.

‘Wait!’ I said,
halting him in his tracks. ‘What if it’s her?’

Now there were
a series of bangs. Someone was hammering on the wood with what
sounded like a clenched fist.

‘Please!’ we
heard a voice shout through the letter box. ‘Please, let me in to
explain!’

It
was
Sophie.

11

‘Please, just
let me in!’

James looked at
me for direction. I couldn’t think fast enough. I really didn’t
want her in the cottage, but what other alternative was there? ‘Be
careful,’ was all I could manage.

James nodded.
‘Maybe you should take Grace into the living room.’

I didn’t need
asking twice. I lifted her out of the high chair and retreated to
the next room. There was no way that I wanted Grace to be caught up
in something like this, even if she was too young to understand
what was happening. I stood just behind the living room door,
waiting with trepidation as James approached the front door.

‘Sophie,’ he
said, through the still closed door. ‘You shouldn’t have come
here.’

‘I need to
explain!’ she shouted. ‘Let me in,
please
!’

She began
banging on the door again.

‘There’s no way
I’m letting her in while she’s in that state,’ James said, entering
the living room. ‘No chance.’

‘James!’ she
shouted.

I held Grace
closer to me. ‘So what are we going to do? We can’t call the
police, that’s for sure. We can’t call anyone.’

James ran a
hand through his hair. ‘I don’t know.’

‘James, open
the door!’

More
banging.

‘I’ll jump
right off this cliff if you don’t let me in.’

‘I’m so sorry,
George. This is all my fault. And I’ve got to sort it out.’

He turned back
towards the door.

I blocked his
path. ‘What are you doing?’

‘I’ll go
outside and talk to her; calm her down. Don’t worry – I won’t let
her into the cottage.’

I thought for a
second, then nodded. It was a far from ideal scenario, but I
couldn’t see what else we could do. ‘Just watch out, James. Please,
be careful.’

He kissed me.
‘Whatever you do, stay in the cottage.’

12

I took up my
position again by the living room door.

‘Sophie, I’m
going to open the door, and we can talk. But we do it outside, not
in the cottage. Do you understand?’

‘Yes.’

‘Move back from
the door then, and I’ll come out.’

I felt sick as
I heard James first unlock, then open the door. I’d half-expected
Sophie to rush at the entrance in order to get inside, but there
was no other sound until the door closed.

I rushed over
to the living room window and could see James and Sophie outside,
right by the cliff’s edge. Sophie was gesticulating and shouting,
while James was trying to calm her down. Part of me longed to go
outside and see if I could do anything. But James was right – I
needed to stay inside, with Grace.

Suddenly Sophie
headed for the edge and James raced after her, rugby tackling her
just before she could jump. They both hit the ground short of the
drop.

I breathed a
massive sigh of relief.

I watched as
they got to their feet. The shock of the event must have calmed
Sophie down, as she just stood there, looking at James. James
reached out and they embraced.

Jealousy flared
and I wanted to rip them apart.

He would never
touch that woman again, if I had my way.

They released
their hold. James was looking towards the rear of the cottage. He
said something and then Sophie turned to look.

Their confused
expressions turned to horror.

Both began to
run as the car appeared. James went left, and Sophie right. The car
slammed right into Sophie and took her with it over the cliff.

I turned away
from the window, numb with shock. My body was shaking and I buried
my head against Grace, bursting into tears.

Outside I could
hear James shouting.

Epilogue

The emergency
services found Michael’s car and body at the bottom of the cliff,
along with Sophie. Neither of them stood a chance, such was the
drop down to the rocks below. Michael had left a note at their
house, explaining how he knew about the affair. In the letter, he
admitted to doing things to James, including cold calling him and
sending the bleeding heart warning. The police and coroner were
satisfied that Michael had intended to kill himself, and his wife.
The assumption was that he had followed Sophie down to the cottage,
possibly thinking that she was going there to meet with James.

Maybe seeing
Sophie and James embrace had provoked that final, violent act.

It took some
time for us to really move on from what happened. And some days, it
was still difficult. But we were in many ways stronger as a family
than we had ever been.

I’ve often
thought, what might have happened if Sophie’s pregnancy had not
been cut so cruelly short.

But life isn’t
that easy to predict.

###

THE END

###

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Read the
opening chapters to The One You Love, the first novel in Paul’s
bestselling Emma Holden trilogy. Filled with twists, turns and
cliff-hangers, the trilogy has sold over a quarter of a million
copies worldwide, and has received over 2000 five star reviews. In
the UK it is published by Hodder and Stoughton (Hachette).

The One You
Love

(Emma Holden
trilogy, book 1)

Emma Holden’s
nightmare has just begun. Her fiancé vanishes, leaving the battered
and bloodied body of his brother in their London apartment. Someone
is stalking her, watching her every move. And her family are hiding
a horrifying secret; a secret that threatens all those she loves.
In a desperate race against time, Emma must uncover the truth if
she ever wants to see her fiancé alive again.

Prologue

He watched
from the boat as they sailed past the sights of London – the
thrusting steel spires of Canary Wharf, the domed O2 Arena, then
Tower Bridge and, finally, the London Eye and Westminster. The sky
was deep blue and the sun’s heat intense, so the cooling river
breeze was heaven.

After
disembarking, he headed for the tube. The day in the capital had
been enjoyable. But now the holiday was over, and the real business
was just beginning.

It was
time.

Soon she would
know just how bad it felt.

1

‘
Em, it’s Will. Where the hell is that fiancé of yours? He
didn’t turn up at the meeting place, and he’s not answering his
phone.’

Emma Holden
pressed her mobile into one ear and cupped her hand over the other,
but still struggled to hear what her brother was saying over the
chatter of the busy London pub. The Irish theme bar was heaving
with twenty- and thirty-somethings – mostly City workers
celebrating the end of the working week and the beginning of a
long, sunny August Bank Holiday weekend. Emma, however, was
celebrating something far more important – her wedding, due to take
place in just over a week’s time. And while this place wouldn’t
usually have been her first choice for a night out – it was so busy
that it was difficult even to turn around –somehow it seemed
perfect for a hen party.

‘Hang on a
minute,’ she shouted into her phone, reaching around a group of
people and handing her drink to her friend, Lizzy. She nodded and
smiled as Emma gestured that she was going outside. ‘I’m going
somewhere quieter,’ Emma shouted into her mobile as she began to
weave her way through the crowds. ‘Can’t hear anything in
here.’

After a
monumental effort she reached the door and exited into the sultry
night air, leaving the rest of her ten-strong hen party inside. The
distinctive central London summer smell hit her: a mixture of fast
food, beer and exhaust fumes. For the first time that evening she
felt the alcohol going to her head, somehow ushered on by the
waning sunlight.

‘Sorry about
that,’ she said, stepping out onto the crowded pavement – the heat
wave that had baked the country for the past two weeks had really
brought out the revellers. ‘That was my fault – Lizzy persuaded the
barman to turn the music up. Now it’s so loud my eardrums feel like
they’re about to burst. I only noticed your call because I had my
mobile out, showing Lizzy and the girls some photos from last
week.’

‘
Em,’ Will said. His serious tone made Emma check herself, as
though he’d just issued her with an order. ‘Where’s Dan? He didn’t
turn up in Covent Garden, and he’s not answering his mobile or your
home phone.’

‘What?’ Emma
absorbed the news as she watched a garish, white stretch limo
cruise past. A group of laughing girls, heads out the window,
toasted passers-by with glasses full of champagne.

‘Yee ha,
cowgirl!’ one of the girls shouted from the limo window. For a
second Emma was confused, before remembering what she was wearing.
The Wild West outfits had been Lizzy’s idea. And dressing up was
compulsory, especially for the bride-to-be. She took off her
cowgirl hat and held it under her arm.

Will was out
with a group of Dan’s friends – a mixture of university mates and
colleagues from the web company where Dan worked. ‘We even went
over to your flat,’ Will continued. ‘Thought he might be running
late, but he’s not answering the intercom. We’re all standing
outside there now. I also tried to reach Richard, but he’s not
picking up either. They’re not with you lot, are they?’