Behind Closed Doors: The gripping debut thriller everyone is raving about (11 page)

‘Oh, I’m so sorry.’ The young woman looked contrite. ‘Could I ask you for your room number please?’

‘I’m afraid I don’t know it, but it’s on the sixth floor, my name is Grace Angel and I checked in earlier this afternoon with my husband.’

‘Room 601,’ she confirmed, checking her screen. ‘May I ask where you lost your passport? Was it at the airport?’

‘No, I had it here in the hotel.’ I gave a shaky laugh. ‘I haven’t actually lost it, my husband has it, and my purse, he took them and now I can’t get back to England.’ I looked at her pleadingly. ‘I really need you to help me.’

‘Where is your husband, Mrs Angel?’

‘I have no idea.’ I wanted to tell her that he had locked me in the room, but I stopped myself just in time, reminding myself that I’d only thought he had. ‘He left a couple of hours ago, taking my passport and money with him. Look, could you phone the British Embassy for me, please?’

‘If you would just hold on a moment while I speak to my manager.’ Giving me an encouraging smile, she went over to speak to a man standing a little further away. As she explained my problem to him, he looked over at me and I gave him a watery smile, aware for the first time of how unkempt I must look, wishing I had thought to change out of my crumpled travelling clothes. Nodding his head as he listened, he smiled reassuringly at me, and picking up the phone, began dialling.

‘Perhaps you would like to sit down while we sort things out,’ the young woman suggested, coming back towards me.

‘No, it’s fine—anyway, I’ll probably need to speak to the Embassy myself.’ Realising that the man had hung up, I went over to him. ‘What did they say?’ I asked.

‘It’s all being sorted out, Mrs Angel. Why don’t you take a seat while you’re waiting?’

‘Is somebody coming from the Embassy, then?’

‘If you would just like to take a seat, perhaps?’

‘Grace?’ Spinning round, I saw Jack hurrying towards me. ‘It’s all right, Grace, I’m here.’

Fear coursed through me. ‘Get away from me!’ I cried. I turned to the young woman who was looking at me in alarm. ‘Help me, please, this man is dangerous!’

‘It’s all right, Grace,’ Jack said soothingly. He gave the manager a rueful smile. ‘Thank you for letting me know she was here. Now, Grace,’ he continued, as if he was speaking to a child, ‘why don’t we go back up to our room so that you can have a sleep? You’ll feel much better once you’ve rested.’

‘I don’t need a sleep, all I need is to get back to England!’ Aware of people watching us curiously, I made an effort to lower my voice. ‘Give me my passport, Jack, and my purse and mobile.’ I held out my hand. ‘Now.’

He groaned. ‘Why do you always have to do this?’

‘I want my passport, Jack.’

He shook his head. ‘I gave your passport back to you at the airport, as I always do, and you put it in your bag, as you always do.’

‘You know very well it isn’t there.’ I put my bag on the counter and opened it. ‘Look,’ I said to the woman, my voice trembling with emotion. I shook the contents out onto the counter. ‘It isn’t in there and neither is my purse. He took them and …’ I stopped and stared as my passport and purse spilled from my bag, followed by my make-up bag, hairbrush, a packet of wet wipes, a bottle of pills I had never seen before and my mobile.

‘You put them back!’ I cried accusingly to Jack. ‘You came back while I was asleep and replaced them!’ I turned to the manager. ‘They weren’t there before, I
swear. He took them, and then he went out, making me believe I was locked in the room.’

The manager looked puzzled. ‘But you can open the door from the inside.’

‘Yes, but he made me think I’d been locked in!’ Even as I said it I could hear how hysterical I sounded.

‘I think I know what happened.’ Jack picked up the bottle of pills and shook it. ‘You forgot to take your medication, didn’t you?’

‘I’m not on medication, they’re not mine, you must have put them there!’ I cried.

‘That’s enough, Grace.’ Jack’s voice was firm. ‘You’re being ridiculous!’

‘Is there anything we can do to help?’ the manager offered. ‘A glass of water, perhaps?’

‘Yes, you can call the police! This man is a dangerous criminal!’ There was a shocked silence. ‘It’s true!’ I added desperately, hearing people murmuring behind me. ‘He killed his own mother. Call the police, please!’

‘This is exactly what I warned you about,’ sighed Jack, exchanging a look with the manager. ‘It’s not the first time this has happened, unfortunately.’ He put his hand under my elbow. ‘Come on, Grace, let’s go.’

I shrugged him off. ‘Will you please just call the police!’ The young woman who I had spoken to first looked uneasily at me. ‘Please!’ I begged. ‘I’m telling the truth!’

‘Look, Grace.’ This time Jack sounded exasperated. ‘If you really want to call the police, go ahead. But do you
remember what happened last time? We couldn’t leave the country until they had investigated your claims and, when they realised they were on a wild goose chase, they threatened to sue you for wasting police time. And that was in America. I don’t think the police here will be quite so understanding.’

I stared at him. ‘What last time?’

‘I really do not advise you to involve the police,’ the manager said worriedly. ‘Unless, of course, there is good reason to.’

‘There’s a very good reason to! This man is dangerous!’

‘If Mrs Angel really wants to leave, perhaps we could call a taxi to take her to the airport now that she has found her passport,’ the young woman suggested nervously.

I looked at her in relief. ‘Yes, yes, please do that!’ I began stuffing my things back into my bag. ‘Please call one immediately.’

‘Are you really going to go through with this?’ Jack asked resignedly.

‘Definitely!’

‘Then there’s nothing more I can do.’ He turned to the manager. ‘I really must apologise for all this fuss. Perhaps one of your staff would escort my wife up to our room so that she can collect her case.’

‘Of course. Kiko, would you please take Mrs Angel up to her room while I call for a taxi.’

‘Thank you,’ I said gratefully, as I followed Kiko to the lift, my legs trembling so much I had difficulty walking. ‘Thank you so much.’

‘You’re welcome, Mrs Angel,’ she said politely.

‘I know you probably think that I’m mad but I can assure you I’m not,’ I went on, feeling I owed her some kind of explanation.

‘It’s fine, Mrs Angel, you don’t have to explain.’ She smiled, pressing the button for the lift.

‘You must call the police,’ I told her. ‘Once I’m gone you must call the police and tell them that my husband, Mr Angel, is a dangerous criminal.’

‘I’m sure our manager will sort everything out.’

The lift arrived and I followed her into it, knowing that she didn’t believe for one minute that Jack was dangerous, or a criminal. But it didn’t matter, because as soon as I was in the taxi I intended phoning the police myself.

We arrived on the sixth floor and I followed her down the corridor to our room. I took the key from my bag, opened the door and stood back, suddenly apprehensive about going in. But I needn’t have worried; everything was just as I’d left it. I went over to my case and rummaged through it for some clean clothes.

‘I won’t be a moment,’ I said, disappearing into the bathroom. ‘I’m just going to change.’

I undressed hurriedly, gave myself a quick wash and got dressed again. As I rolled my dirty clothes into a ball, I felt physically refreshed and mentally stronger. Not
wanting to delay a moment longer, I opened the door. But, before I could step out of the bathroom, a hand shot out and pushed me back inside while another clapped over my mouth, stifling the scream that tore through me.

‘Did you enjoy that little scenario I set up for you?’ Jack asked, his face inches from mine. ‘I did, immensely. And, even better, I’ve managed to kill two birds with one stone. First and foremost, you’ve just proved in front of dozens of people that you’re unstable—the manager is, at this very moment, writing an account of your behaviour earlier on so there is a record of it—and, secondly, you have hopefully learnt that I will always be one step ahead of you.’ He paused a moment to let his words sink in. ‘Now, this is what we’re going to do. I’m going to take my hand off your mouth and if you so much as whimper I’ll force-feed you enough pills to kill you and make your death look like the suicide of an unbalanced young woman. If that were to happen, as Millie’s only surviving guardian, I would, of course, keep the promise we made her and bring her to live in our lovely new house—except that you won’t be there and who would protect her? Have I made myself clear?’ I nodded mutely. ‘Good.’

He removed his hand from my mouth and, dragging me out of the bathroom, threw me onto the bed. ‘Now, I need you to listen and listen well. Each time you try to escape, whether by hammering on the door, or speaking to someone, or trying to make a run for it, it is Millie who will pay. For example, because of your attempt to
escape today, we won’t be going to see her the weekend after we get back, as she is expecting us to do. If you do anything stupid again tomorrow, we won’t be going the following week either. And so on. We’ll invent a particularly nasty stomach bug that you picked up here in Thailand to excuse our absence, a stomach bug that will go on for as many weeks as necessary. So, if you want to see Millie again within a reasonable amount of time, I suggest you do exactly as I say.’

I began to shake uncontrollably, not only at the menace in his voice but also because of the terrible realisation that in coming back to the room to fetch my case, I’d lost my chance to escape from him. I hadn’t needed my case, I could easily have left without it, yet when Jack had mentioned it, it had seemed perfectly reasonable to come up and fetch it. If he hadn’t asked somebody to accompany me I might have questioned his motives in making me come back to the room. And if I had realised sooner that the door wasn’t locked, if I hadn’t fallen asleep, he wouldn’t have been able to replace my passport, mobile and purse.

‘You’re wondering if the outcome would have been different if you had acted differently, aren’t you?’ he said, amused. ‘Let me put you out of your misery—the answer is no, the outcome would have been exactly the same. Had you gone down to the lobby before I’d had the chance to replace your passport, purse and phone, I would have simply put them in your case once you’d left the room—you’ll have realised by now that I was
watching you the whole time—and suggested, in front of everyone, that you had simply mislaid them. Then I would have had the manager escort you back here to look for them. The thing is, I know you, Grace, I know how you will act, what you will say. I even know that before we leave Thailand, you’ll try and escape again, which would be very foolish. But you’ll learn, in the end, because you’ll have to.’

‘Never,’ I sobbed. ‘I’ll never give in to you.’

‘Well, we’ll see about that. Now, here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to get some sleep and tomorrow morning we’re going to go down to breakfast and, as we pass the reception desk, you’ll apologise for the fuss you caused this evening and say that of course you don’t want to go back to England. After breakfast, where you’ll look lovingly into my eyes, I’ll take some nice photographs of you outside the hotel so that we can show all our friends how happy you were here. Then, while I go out to take care of some business, you, my darling, will sunbathe on the balcony so that by the time we go back to England, you’ll have a lovely tan.’ He began to unlace his shoes. ‘After all that excitement, I suddenly feel quite tired.’

‘I’m not sleeping in the same bed as you!’

‘Then sleep on the floor. And don’t bother trying to escape, it really isn’t worth it.’

I dragged a cover from the bed and sat down on the floor, wrapping the cover around myself, numb with fear. Although instinct told me to escape as soon as any
opportunity came, reason told me that it would be much easier to get away from him and to get him put away forever if I waited until we were back in England. If I tried again here in Thailand, and failed, I hated to think what he might do to me. He thought he knew me, he thought he knew how I would act, he had predicted that I would try to escape again. The only thing I could do was wrong-foot him, make him think that I had given in, that I had given up. Much as I wanted to get away from him, my main priority had to be getting back to England, getting back to Millie.

A
s we drive to Millie’s school on Sunday morning, I’m so stressed about why Mrs Goodrich has asked to see us that it’s a relief Jack didn’t bring me breakfast before leaving. He didn’t bring any food yesterday either, which means I’ve had nothing to eat since lunch in the restaurant on Friday. I don’t know why he chose not to feed me but it was probably because Esther helped me finish my dessert, which he would consider as cheating, knowing all too well that I wouldn’t have been able to eat it after the reference he made to Millie’s bedroom. In the sick world that Jack has created for me, there are many things I’m not allowed to do and wasting food is one of them.

My heart starts hammering as soon as we’re ushered into Mrs Goodrich’s office, especially when Janice sits
down with us, her face grave. We haven’t seen Millie yet, so I presume that she doesn’t know Jack and I are already here. But I needn’t have worried; all they want to tell us is that because she’s been having trouble sleeping, which makes her irritable during the day, the school doctor has prescribed something to calm her before bedtime.

‘Do you mean sleeping pills?’ I ask.

‘Yes,’ Mrs Goodrich says. ‘To be administered—with your permission, of course—as and when she needs them.’

‘I don’t have a problem with that, do you, darling?’ Jack asks, turning to me. ‘If it’s in Millie’s interest.’

‘No, not if the doctor thinks she needs them,’ I say slowly. ‘It’s just that I don’t particularly want her to become dependent on drugs to help her sleep.’

‘He hasn’t prescribed anything too strong, I hope?’ Jack enquires.

‘No, not at all, they can be bought over the counter.’ Mrs Goodrich opens a folder on the desk in front of her, takes out a piece of paper and hands it to him.

‘Thank you. I’ll just make a note of the name, if you don’t mind.’

‘I actually gave her one last night because she seemed particularly disturbed,’ Janice says as he types the name of the pills into his phone. ‘I hope that was all right.’

‘Of course,’ I say, reassuringly. ‘You already have my written permission to take any action you see fit in my absence.’

‘What we are wondering,’ Mrs Goodrich goes on, ‘is if there is any reason why Millie should suddenly have trouble sleeping.’ She pauses delicately. ‘Did she seem anxious, or unhappy, when you visited last weekend, for example?’

Jack shakes his head. ‘She just seemed her usual self to me.’

‘To me too—although she was a little put out that we didn’t go to the hotel for lunch,’ I say. ‘For some reason, it’s her favourite place, although Jack and I prefer the restaurant by the lake. But she soon rallied round.’

Mrs Goodrich exchanges a glance with Janice. ‘We rather wondered if it’s because she hasn’t seen the house yet,’ she says.

‘I doubt it,’ I say quickly. ‘I mean, she understands that we prefer her to see it once it’s completely finished rather than with half of it covered in dust sheets and ladders—unless she mentioned something to you, darling?’

‘Nothing at all,’ Jack confirms. ‘But if it’s bothering her, I’m perfectly happy for her to come and see it as soon as her bedroom’s finished. The only danger is that she’ll probably fall in love with it and won’t want to leave,’ he adds with a laugh.

‘I think it’s probably the thought of leaving here that is weighing heavily on her mind,’ I suggest, ignoring the way my heart has suddenly plummeted. ‘After all, it has been her home for the last seven years and she’s been very, very happy here.’

‘You’re right, of course.’ Janice nods. ‘I should have thought of that.’

‘And she’s particularly attached to you. Perhaps you could reassure her that you’ll always keep in touch, that you’ll continue to see her once she’s left,’ I go on. ‘If you want to, that is.’

‘Of course I do! Millie has become like a little sister to me.’

‘Well, if you can tell her that you’ll come and see her regularly once she’s moved in with us, I’m sure that will be enough to allay any fears she may have.’

Jack smiles, understanding only too well what I’ve just done. ‘And if Millie says anything, anything at all, no matter how insignificant it may seem, that gives you cause for concern, please let us know,’ he says. ‘All we want is for Millie to be happy.’

‘Well, may I say once again how fortunate Millie is to have you both,’ says Mrs Goodrich.

‘It is we who are fortunate,’ Jack corrects modestly. ‘In fact, with both Grace and Millie in my life, I count myself as the most fortunate man in the world.’ He gets to his feet. ‘Now, perhaps we can take Millie to lunch. Although she’ll probably be disappointed that we won’t be going to the hotel—I’ve reserved a table at a new restaurant. It’s meant to have the most wonderful food.’

I don’t bother getting my hopes up. If Jack is taking us somewhere new, it means he’s already checked it out.

‘We go hotel today?’ Millie asks hopefully, when we go to fetch her.

‘Actually, there’s a new restaurant I’d like to take you to,’ Jack says.

‘I like hotel best,’ she scowls.

‘Another day. Come on, let’s go.’

Millie’s face is glum as we make our way to the car, the frustration of not being able to go to the hotel evident. I manage to give her hand a squeeze as we get into the car and, understanding that I’m telling her to be careful, she makes an effort to perk up a bit.

During lunch, Jack asks Millie why she can’t sleep at night and she tells him that she can hear flies buzzing around in her head. He asks if the pill that Janice had given her the night before had helped and she says that it did, that she slept very well, ‘like baby’, so he tells her that we’ve given our permission for her to carry on taking them whenever she needs them. She asks if Molly has come back yet and, because my throat has suddenly tightened, as it always does when I think of Molly, it is Jack who tells her gently that it is unlikely she will, that she was probably found by a little girl who doesn’t know that she’s a runaway and loves her very much. He promises that as soon as she moves in with us, he’ll take her to choose a puppy of her own and, when Millie’s face lights up with happiness, the urge to grab a knife off the table and stick it deep into his heart is overwhelming. Sensing this perhaps, Jack reaches out and covers my hand with his, making the waitress who has come to take away our plates smile at this display of affection between us.

When we’ve finished our desserts, Millie says she needs to go to the toilet.

‘Go on, then,’ says Jack.

Millie looks at me. ‘You come, Grace?’

I stand up. ‘Yes, I need to go too.’

‘We’ll all go,’ says Jack.

We follow him along to the toilets, which are exactly as I thought they’d be, a single one for women and a single one for men, the two doors side by side. The Ladies’ is engaged, so we wait on either side of Jack for it to become vacant. A lady comes out and Jack’s hand grips my elbow tightly as a reminder that I’m not to tell her my husband is a psychopath.

As Millie disappears into the cubicle, the lady turns and smiles at us, and I know that all she sees is a charming young couple standing so close to each other that they must be very much in love, which makes me realise, once again, how hopeless my situation is. I’m beginning to despair of anyone ever questioning the absolute perfectness of our lives and, whenever we are with friends, I marvel at their stupidity in believing that Jack and I never argue, that we agree about absolutely everything, that I, an intelligent thirty-two-year-old woman with no children, could be content to sit at home all day and play house.

I long for somebody to ask questions, to be suspicious. My thoughts turn immediately to Esther and I wonder if I should be more careful what I wish for. If Jack becomes suspicious of her constant questioning, he may decide
that I’ve encouraged her in some way and my life will be even less worth living. Were it not for Millie, I would gladly exchange death for this new life that I lead. But were it not for Millie, I wouldn’t be here. As Jack has already told me, it is Millie he wants, not me.