After looking at the photographs, he looked inside the envelope, but there was nothing else. No note. He wasn’t sure what she was after. And he had heard nothing more. They had to be from Terry, no one else would have been able to take the photos. He wasn’t sure how she managed it. Was he in the house when they did it? In his own bathroom while they took them? On close inspection the bites looked fresh. But he knew well enough photos could be manipulated.
He thought of phoning Stephanie, but when he had told her about Terry leaving, she had been less than sympathetic. In fact she had been a bit odd. She hadn’t even asked if he had arranged a party with Andy yet; she didn’t mention Sarah at all. Something was wrong with her, but when he asked, she brushed it off, and as he had his own problems at the moment, he hadn’t pursued it. He’d call her tomorrow. She said she was busy today. Must be with her mother. Thank god he didn’t speak to his family.
If only he could tell Andy. But he wasn’t sure if Andy would understand. Andy had an idea of what Robert got up to, but they had never discussed it openly. Andy may cheat on his wife with her sister, but Robert knew he would never hurt her. He wasn’t the physical sort, like him.
It must be money they were after. The silence was to make him nervous and prepared to pay out more. It was working. At first he was furious. He wasn’t going to pay anything. The photos could easily have been taken when he was out of the house. They couldn’t prove anything. But the two days he had to think about it, the more he knew they would have other ways of proving the photos. He’d have to pay up, otherwise his career was finished. He wished they would just get on with it. Call him and say what it was they wanted. It was going to be extortionate, fucking bitches. Fucking fucking bitches. And the bitch Sarah hadn’t answered his calls. What the fuck was wrong with her? She’d come to collect her car, but didn’t knock or leave a message.
Where was that coffee? Looking at his watch, he saw the film would be starting soon. He’d have to go and get the coffee himself, if he wanted a quick fag before it started. Turning from the doorway, he walked through the hall to the kitchen. Teresa had her back to him, standing at the sink.
‘How’s the coff….’
He didn’t finish the sentence. The door bell rang.
‘Who the fuck is that?’
‘Language!’ Teresa called out.
Robert stared at her, she didn’t leave the sink. He would have to answer the door, but as he turned he heard running footsteps. One of Andy’s sons ran to answer the door. As Robert got to the door, the little boy opened it. Two policemen stood looking down at him.
‘What d’you want?’ Robert asked over the boys head.
‘Mr. White, Michael White?’
The little boy laughed, ‘He’s not Michael, I am. His name’s Robert,’
The policeman who had spoken looked down at him.
‘Good evening sir. We’re looking for a Mr. Michael White?’
‘What for?’ Robert’s heart was beating in his ears. Fucking bitch. She’d gone to the police. It wasn’t money after all.
‘Are you Michael White?’
‘My name is Robert D’Lyn, but I was known as Michael White, yes. Look what the fuck is all this about. It’s Christmas Day you know, and there’s a film about to start I want to watch.’
‘Please don’t use that language sir. May we come in?’
Robert noticed he had his foot inside the door.
‘Please do. Mike, go back into the lounge now.’ Robert opened the door to let the two men in, and the little boy skipped off to the lounge. After closing the door behind them Robert asked, ‘what is all this about?’
‘Is there somewhere we can talk, sir?’
‘Follow me.’
They followed him to the games room. ‘Now what the fuck is all this about.’
‘I’ll ask you again, sir, please refrain from that language.’ He paused and removed a notebook from his pocket. While he was doing this, Robert took out his cigarettes and lit one up. To hell with Teresa. He needed one. It was his fucking house. Fuck Teresa.
‘Do you know a young woman by the name of Sarah Colwyn-Smyth?’
‘I know a girl called Sarah. Yes, but not sure what the fu… what her surname is.’
‘Did you and Miss Colwyn Smyth go to the White Heather on 15
th
November for a meal?’
‘I took a girl called Sarah for a meal there. But I’d have to check my diary for the date.’
‘Can you do that now sir? Please.’
‘Look what is all this about? I’m not sure where my diary is, my P.A. left a few days ago and she did all my appointments.’
‘Can I suggest you look for it, now, sir?’
Robert hoped his diary was by the phone in the hallway, that was where Terry usually left it.
‘I think it’s in the hallway, by the phone.’ Robert left the room to look. As he walked into the hall he took a long drag on his cigarette. Andy was standing there.
‘Is everything all right?’
‘I don’t know? I need my diary. The bitch better have left it there.’
With relief he saw it was there, and opened it to November, flicking through the pages. Yes, there it was, in her handwriting. He took it back into the games room. Andy followed him.
‘Here,’ he held up the diary. ‘And yes, it is in here. Apparently I did see Sarah on 15
th
.’
‘Can you tell us what happened that night sir?’
Robert told the policemen what he could remember. He met her in the car park, he drove to the restaurant, and then he drove her back to her car. He left her there and drove home.
‘You left her there?’
‘Well no, not exactly, I watched her as she got into her car.’
‘She got into her car? Did you walk her to the car? Did you sit in your car and watch?’
‘I don’t know. For f… godsake. I sat and watched her walk to her car.’ Robert lit another cigarette. What the hell was going on?
‘Sir, I would suggest you didn’t sit and watch her at all. In fact she had to fight you off to get out of your car, and had to run to her car. And you chased her to her car, where you tried to rape her.’
‘What?’ Robert laughed, ‘What are you talking about?’
Robert looked over at Andy. He stared back shaking his head then turned and walked out of the room.
‘Michael White, we are arresting you on suspicion of the attempted rape on 15
th
November and subsequent rape on 22
nd
December of Sarah Colwyn-Smyth. I have to caution you…’
.
S
tephanie didn’t look at Jane as she left the office on her way to the car.
‘Stephanie, your next client will be here in a few moments.’
She ignored her and kept walking. She needed to get in the car and drive. Drive anywhere. Go home and take the dogs out. That always helped clear her mind. She should have listened to Jane.
‘Stephanie! What’s wrong?’ She heard her call as she walked outside towards the car. Jane had been right in the past and had once again been proved right, although she would probably never know. She hadn’t looked forward to the session, but she wanted to know why Sarah had done it. What had caused her to call the police? She was still none the wiser to that question, but she now knew more about Sarah than she wanted to.
Robert had called her on Christmas Day from the police station and told her what happened. What was Sarah up to? This wasn’t the young girl who came to see her. What had they done to her? She stuck the keys in the ignition, checked the mirror and reversed out of the car park.
Everything had gone wrong since that night. Well, not everything. Trevor had happened. And so far that had been a good thing.
After finding the dogs drugged in the kitchen she hadn’t known what to do. Help from Robert was the last thing she wanted after spending a restless night, cancelling all her clients and not leaving the house all day. The dogs woke up the next day as if nothing had happened; tails wagging, waiting to be fed and watered.
The only person she could think of had been Trevor. Even at Robert’s house with Sarah, Trevor had been in the back of her mind. It felt as if he had infiltrated her; become part of her. Cammy would have come round and stayed with her, but as much as she loved Cammy, she didn’t really feel she would be much use.
She pulled on to the main road not thinking where she was going. In the end she called Trevor. She thought about the police; they would take a statement and look for finger prints; there was nothing else they could do. And as there appeared to be no theft or break in, there seemed little point in having more strangers roam around her house, contaminating everything, spoiling everything, making a mess. She was quite sure they’d find no finger prints; if whoever had done it, managed to get in without breaking a window, they certainly wouldn’t be leaving any finger prints. And if she went to the police, the newspapers may become involved. She couldn’t afford for that to happen. She’d been far too careful with her privacy, she wasn’t going to let some mad idiot destroy that.
At 3.00 am the following night she could stand the fear no longer; every noise was an intruder; every twitch of the dog’s ear was another one. She called him.
Trevor answered his phone almost immediately.
‘Hello?’
‘Trevor? Is that you? It’s Stephanie.’
‘Stephanie?’
‘Yes.’ She paused not sure what to say. ‘Sorry to wake you.’
‘I wasn’t asleep.’ She didn’t know what to say and eventually he said, ‘Hang on a moment.’ She heard a muffled sound, his voice speaking to someone, but she couldn’t make out the words. She wanted to hang up, felt stupid. What was he going to do? How could he help her? And he was with someone.
‘How can I help you Stephanie? You’re not phoning for a date at this hour? Are you?’
‘No. Sorry, I shouldn’t have called.’
‘You have,’ his voice softened. ‘Now tell me, what’s wrong?’
‘Actually, it’s difficult. I hope you don’t mind, I didn’t know who else to call. I’ve got a bit of a problem and not sure what to do about it. You just seemed like the type of person who’d be able to help.’
‘OK. What sort of problem?’
Stephanie explained some of what had happened. She told him she didn’t want to involve the police, that she didn’t want to be alone, but at the same time she didn’t feel she could leave the house. She didn’t tell him about the white van or the flowers, only about the break in. She didn’t tell him she had called Jane to cancel all her appointments for the following day. There was certainly no way she could pay attention to all those poor-me, self-indulgent clients of hers. He was very good. Listening and not asking awkward questions. After about half an hour she gave him her address and he came round. He stayed the next day, even taking the dogs for a walk one at a time, so she was never left alone. They really loved him. And he stayed the night. The first time since she had left Robert, a man slept in her bed. The first time she spent the whole night with a man. He hadn’t really left since.
Stephanie found herself driving up to the downs.
Although she went to her mother’s for Christmas lunch, when she got home Trevor was there in the lounge, the dogs content at his feet. He prepared a small meal for them to share in the evening. For a second she felt a twinge when the dogs hadn’t come bounding to meet her; they barely lifted their heads to acknowledge her presence when she walked into the lounge. Since Trevor had stayed, there were no more flowers, no more phone calls and she let the jealousy go. She checked her rear view mirror, she realized she hadn’t seen a white van for days. She settled on the settee next to Trevor, his arm wrapped around her comfortably and when her mobile rang, she didn’t jump.
It was Robert, calling with the news of what Sarah had done. It didn’t make sense. She had seen the way Sarah looked at Robert, she heard the way she talked about him. The allegations were awful, and the police claimed there were photographs as well as a doctor’s report of the attempted rape. The alleged rape was her word against his, but with the other evidence it was likely to be believed. She knew Robert got out of control sometimes, but Sarah had been hers, not his. He wouldn’t do such a thing with her toys. Stephanie was grateful for Trevor’s complete lack of interest in the situation.
Stephanie pulled into a car park. She kept the engine running to keep warm and she felt for the metal bar, pushing the seat back as far as it could go stretching out her legs, making herself relax.
When Sarah arrived for the session Stephanie hardly recognised her. She held her head high, her hair tied back, her coat expensive and new. She wore a little make-up.
‘Good morning Sarah, come in.’ She told her pointlessly, as Sarah was already in.
‘Good morning Stephanie.’
Sarah sat down without being asked, and Stephanie walked around to her desk and sat behind it. She wasn’t going to sit out front for this appointment.
‘Why?’
Sarah looked at her, and smiled, not with her eyes, just her mouth.
‘Because I can. And because you’ll never know why. However I’m going to tell you something else. I thought I’d tell you about myself. Tell you what you should have known by now. I’m going to answer all the questions you should have asked me already. The reason I was here, but didn’t have the courage at the time to speak about.’
‘I’m listening.’ Stephanie settled herself down, behind her desk.
‘I doubt that. But I’m going to tell you anyway, because I need to tell someone. However before I start, I want you to assure me. What I tell you, you can never tell anyone else? Is that right?’
‘Yes. You have my complete confidence.’
‘No matter what I say?’
‘No matter what.’
‘Just to make sure. If you do ever tell anyone, I’ll tell everyone what you did to me. I’ll tell them how you were the one to set me up with Robert. How as a client of yours, you knew what he was like.’
Shocked by the demand, Stephanie replied,
‘You have my word.’
‘I came to you, because I needed help. I needed help, your help… my mother. That is what you are paid for? Isn’t it?’ Sarah’s voice got louder. ‘Isn’t it? I mentioned her often enough, but you didn’t think it was important.’