He’s telling the truth; she can hear it in his voice, see it in his expression. Neither fit with a man who’s been unfaithful, so it’s not another woman causing him to be so withdrawn, so unhappy. What, then?
‘I do.’ Her mouth is too dry with nerves to form the words properly. ‘I do believe you. What’s changed? What is it you have to tell me?’
‘Before I get to that, do you understand now why I’ve always been, well, a bit distant with you? Kept you at arm’s length, when God knows it’s the last thing I wanted?’
‘Yes. Well, I do now. I’m sorry I reacted so badly before. It was just such a shock.’ She attempts a weak smile. ‘Not the sort of thing you find out every day. I couldn’t deal with it, not at first.’
‘I’m sorry, Nat. Finding that letter - I get how awful it must have been for you, I really do.’
They’re able to look each other in the eye more easily now, although Natalie’s still pent up with wondering what Mark has to tell her.
‘And I’ve never been with anyone else whilst with you, Nat. You’re the one I want, except my own stupidity has made us being together impossible.’
‘Why?’ Desperation bursts forth again from Natalie. She doesn’t understand any of this. He’s not making any sense.
‘I’m getting to that. You’re aware I was released from prison under certain conditions? Not to revisit where it happened, not to contact Adam Campbell or any of the Morgan family?’
Natalie nods. The articles she’s read have mentioned the terms of Mark’s release. He’s told her himself about his ongoing monitoring by Tony Jackson.
‘I’ve broken all three since I last saw you, Nat.’
She’s stunned. ‘What…? But
why
, Mark? Won’t that get you sent back to jail?’
‘There’s a strong possibility I’ll be arrested, yes.’
Whatever she’s been expecting he might say, it isn’t this. He’s talking like a madman.
He sighs. ‘It’s hard to explain. I suppose I should talk about Abby Morgan, however hard it is. What really happened that day. I said I would, after all.’
‘Tell me.’
‘You see, I may have been convicted on an equal basis as Adam Campbell, but no way was I as guilty. He beat Abby Morgan with the rake; he was the one who stabbed her. I didn’t do any of it. He was bigger than I was and much more aggressive; it was his idea. Planned it all in advance. Took me along because he liked having an obedient sidekick as an audience.’
Her theory is right, Natalie thinks. Joshua Barker was a kid in the wrong place at the wrong time. Forced into an inconceivable act of brutality by the other boy. ‘He bullied you?’
‘From the word go. He had something evil in him, Natalie, something twisted. He got off on wielding power over anyone weaker, and that meant pretty much everyone his age and younger. The other kids at school were scared stiff of him. I was too, but he had me by the balls from the start.’
‘You didn’t tell anyone? Try to get away from him?’
‘Once. Did my best to avoid him, hang out with the other boys. Didn’t work. As for telling someone, who exactly? Most of the teachers at school were scared of him as well. As for my mother - well, you’ll have gathered what a cold fish she is. You read my grandmother’s letter, after all. My father was dead by then. I had nobody.’
‘So he singled you out.’
‘Yes. He carried a knife, too. Wasn’t afraid to use it. Anyway, that day, I had no idea what he’d planned. I tried to stop him, honest to God I did, but he threatened to kill me.’
‘I thought as much. Once I’d had a chance to calm down.’
‘When the police questioned me, I was shit scared, Nat. I was only eleven, for Christ’s sake. My mother wanted nothing to do with me. All I could think about was how I must be as guilty as Adam, because I stood by and let him do it.’ He shakes his head. ‘I was weak. Too frightened of Adam Campbell to save Abby Morgan. I swear to you, though, I had no part in her death, other than failing to prevent it.’
‘I believe you.’ She does, too. It’s inconceivable anybody could fake the raw emotions etched in Mark’s words, his tortured expression.
‘I’ve always wanted to atone for my weakness.’ His voice is a whisper. ‘Find some way of making amends to the Morgans, crazy as it sounds, since nothing can ever bring Abby back.’
‘I get that.’
‘That was why I went to Moretonhampstead. Even though it’s against all the rules. To get answers. Find out if a way existed for me to make things better.’
‘When did you go?’
‘I attended the annual vigil a couple of weeks ago.’
‘But
why?
Doesn’t it always get televised?’ Natalie’s stunned. An incredible risk to take, she thinks.
‘Yeah, but I had to find out how Abby’s murder affected the Morgans. I had some notion about how, if I knew that, then the way to set things right might become more obvious. Stupid, I know, but my brain wasn’t working too clearly. Not after our break-up. You tore me up, Nat, when you walked out on me, with what you said. Not that I’m blaming you. I was a complete mess in my head, what with having the lid blown off my identity.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Her voice is a mere whisper.
‘So I went to the vigil. Saw Adam Campbell there.’
‘God.’ Natalie’s stunned. ‘What the hell was he doing there?’
‘No idea. Got his mobile number now. He’s left messages and texted a couple of times. We eventually spoke last night.’
‘He didn’t explain why he went?’
‘No, and I didn’t ask, although I will. Listen, Nat, he’s not important right now. Anyway, Michelle Morgan led the vigil, as she always does, with Rachel and Shaun, Abby’s brother and sister.’
‘Nobody recognised you?’
‘Not after fourteen years. I simply merged in amongst the other bystanders. Afterwards, I hung around for a while. Watched Rachel Morgan head back towards Moretonhampstead. I followed, not on purpose, but because my car was parked there.’
Natalie’s confused. Where’s Mark going with this?
‘When we were both in the town, I caught up with her. We started talking.’
Unease prickles down Natalie’s spine. Jealousy starts to uncurl inside her.
‘But why? That’s forbidden as well, isn’t it?’
‘Yes. I felt compelled to speak to her, Nat. She’s so small, so fragile.’
The wrong thing to say. Unlike me, Natalie thinks. Not carrying at least twenty extra kilos in weight, worn as flab on the belly and thighs. Rachel’s slim figure from the YouTube links slides into her brain. Too uptight to say anything, she’s silent, her lips compressed into thin, mean lines.
‘Once I’d managed to convince her I wasn’t a reporter, we chatted. Turned out we share an interest in running.’
Another wrong thing to say. Finding out this woman is athletic to boot presses Natalie’s buttons, and hard.
‘I hoped I could get her to open up to me, tell me how it was for her and her family, find out if she had the answers to the burning questions I had inside. Like where her father was, for instance. Why she seemed so distant from her mother at the vigil.’
Natalie’s silent, the fires of jealousy still licking at her.
‘We made contact through Facebook, ended up arranging to meet for lunch one Saturday in Exeter.’
‘
What?
’ The flames flare higher, fierce and angry.
‘Please, Nat, just bear with me. We met twice, once that weekend and again the following Sunday. She talked about her family, just as I’d hoped. It’s bad, Nat. Terrible, in fact. They’ve all suffered some serious shit.’
Natalie finds her voice, pissed off though she is about Mark lunching with another woman. Twice, as well. ‘Like what? I mean, besides the obvious, losing Abby.’
‘Her mother threw her father out after it happened. He’s now a raging alcoholic. Michelle Morgan, well, she’s as bitter as they come. Turns out she holds Rachel responsible for Abby being taken, because she was supposed to be minding the child, but wasn’t. Rachel blames herself as well. She cuts herself, Nat.’
Natalie’s confused. What does he mean, cuts herself? Then an old memory surfaces, a Channel 4 documentary about people, women mostly, who self-harm. Who slice themselves with knives, pull out their hair, burn themselves. Shit. Serious stuff; Natalie doesn’t feel as envious of the petite, sporty Rachel Morgan as she did a minute ago.
‘Her arms are a mess. Her legs, too, apparently. Anyway, we were chatting and I let something slip, enough to make her realise I must be either Joshua Barker or Adam Campbell. She went ballistic, Nat, as you’d expect. She told me she intends to inform the police, get me arrested.’
Now Natalie understands. Why he thinks they can’t be together; why he says he’s been stupid.
‘Mark, listen to me. She might not go to the cops. If she doesn’t, then it’s all OK, don’t you see? We can be together after all.’
‘No.’ The word slaps her in the face. ‘She’ll tell them, I’m sure of it. She was so angry, and not just because she discovered I’m really Joshua Barker.’ He glances away, seemingly reluctant to continue.
‘Why?’
He sighs, still not looking at her. ‘You’ll get mad.’
‘Tell me.’
‘She’d got the idea in her head, you see, about something happening between us.’
‘Why would she think that?’ Natalie’s suspicions flare up again, hotter and higher this time. ‘Did you do something to encourage her?’
Please God, say no. Even if it’s not true.
‘Yes. No. Maybe.’ He clears his throat. Why won’t he look at her? Tension pulls her stomach as tight as stretched canvas.
‘What happened?’ Her voice is high, shrill.
‘It was nothing, honestly.’
‘What did you do?
‘She did it, not me. I didn’t want -’ He exhales noisily. ‘Nat, you mustn’t think -’
‘Tell me. For fuck’s sake, just spit it out.’
Mark sighs. ‘The first time we met. I was about to leave. She kissed me.’
Natalie doesn’t believe he just said those words. He kissed this woman? After saying he doesn’t want anyone else? Bastard. Before she can give voice to her anger, he’s speaking again.
‘It was simply a kiss, Nat. Nothing more, I swear. She started it, not me. I felt sorry for her, and it just happened.’
‘You kissed Rachel Morgan. Who you’re expressly forbidden to contact in any way.’ Fury washes over Natalie. In the space of one minute, Mark Slater has been transformed in her head from innocent victim to unfaithful boyfriend. This is a man, after all, who first tells her she’s the only woman for him, and then admits kissing somebody else. Irrelevant that she’d already dumped him prior to him meeting this woman. Or that the bitch initiated what happened.
Besides, it’s not just anybody he’s kissed. No, he has to pick the sister of the child he’s been convicted of killing. No wonder Rachel Morgan is so devastated, so angry. Natalie Richards is too. She’s been a fool to hope for a future with such a man. Right now, she’s no idea whether anything he’s said so far has been true; she’s struggling to untangle what’s real and what’s not. All she’s certain of is Mark has admitted to kissing another woman, an admission pushing down hard on every insecure button she has.
He obviously registers the change in her tone from cool to frigid. ‘It didn’t mean anything -’
Pathetic. So weak. The kind of crap her father gave her mother whenever he fucked some new piece of skirt. The age-old excuse given by faithless partners everywhere, in the deluded belief that meaningless betrayal is somehow preferable to deliberate intention. If it means so little, why do it?
‘I can’t deal with this crap.’ She’s amazed how steady her voice is, despite the turmoil she’s struggling to contain. ‘I can’t trust a word you say anymore. There must have been some attraction between you and this Rachel, or else you’d have approached either her mother or her brother after the vigil.’
‘That’s not how it was. She seemed so vulnerable, I guess, not as strong as Michelle or Shaun. Besides, they were busy lighting a candle for Abby. It was pure chance she was parked close to me back in Moretonhampstead. Anyway, it seemed too good an opportunity to pass up. I never came on to her, honest, Nat.’
‘Yeah, right. You’re a total bastard, you know that?’
‘Can’t disagree with you there.’ His voice is sad, resigned. ‘You deserve better than a screw-up like me, Nat. That’s what I’m here to tell you. It’s why we can’t be together, even if Rachel doesn’t tell the police.’
‘Too right we can’t.’ Her anger is beginning to assert itself now. The arsehole. He kissed his victim’s sister, for fuck’s sake. Sick, bloody sick. ‘I hope this Rachel woman does get you sent back to jail. You deserve to spend the rest of your miserable life there. I bet you did kill that kid, you and that other bastard.’
‘Wait, Nat. Please. There’s something else I need to tell you. It’s important. About how we met -’
‘
What?’
‘That day when I first saw you. I’ve not been entirely truthful -’
The final straw. Natalie snaps. ‘Get the hell out of here. You’ve not been honest about one single thing. Not ever. About you, about us, about anything. Fuck off, Mark. I never want to see you again. If this Rachel Morgan doesn’t call the cops on you, I will.’
23
SEE YOU WEDNESDAY
Midday on Wednesday. Another cold, damp day in Moretonhampstead. Mark’s waiting to meet Adam Campbell properly for the first time in fourteen years. Weird, as well as frightening, to talk to him on the phone Monday night. Mark replays the conversation in his head, desperate to avoid thinking about Natalie. In his mind, it’s two days ago and he’s sitting on the sofa in his flat, screwing up his courage to do what’s necessary.
Adam answers straight away, as though he’s been waiting for Mark’s call. His voice still has the power to instil fear, command compliance, even after fourteen years.
‘Been expecting you. Why’d you take so long to call?’
Mark’s unsure how to respond. No way does he want to reveal what he’s been up to with Rachel Morgan. He opts for deflection. ‘Been busy. Stuff, life, that sort of thing. You know how it is.’