Authors: C.J. Johnson
“I'll bet not,” she said smiling. Checking her watch, she gasped at how late it was. Nicole would be about ready to call 999 if she didn't get back soon.
“I have to go,” Cheryl said distractedly as she pondered the most believable explanation that she could tell James and Nicole to explain her whereabouts.
“Will I see you again?” Ryan asked quietly and Cheryl looked at him. He gazed at her with such a puppy-dog besotted expression that Cheryl smiled in triumph.
The rush of power and confidence exhilarated her.
“Maybe. Are you in here often?”
Ryan nodded eagerly. “This is my local.”
“Then I'll know right where to find you.” She kissed him and he moaned as she slid her tongue into his mouth. Holding his hand, the two left the storeroom and went back into the bar.
Cheryl immediately spotted Ryan's friends as they gaped in their direction. For their benefit, Cheryl pulled Ryan to her and kissed him passionately before turning and leaving the bar.
“Wait.” Ryan rushed after her, tugging on her arm as she left the main door. “What's your name? When will I see you again?”
“I'm your mystery lover,” Cheryl told him smiling. “You'll see me again. Soon.”
She walked back to her car, smiling triumphantly. He may be inexperienced with women but the bitter disappointment on his handsome young face showed he understood when he'd been used.
Like what Dave did to me.
Not the same at all
, Cheryl told herself as she got into her car and started the engine. She'd never promised Ryan love and faithfulness; she'd merely had sex with him.
If he'd believed there was more to it, he hadn't got the ideas from her. As far as she was concerned, that put her in the clear.
The lad could use a little toughening up anyway.
Cheryl was waiting at the bar's car park exit when she realised that Ryan was standing outside the bar's main doors. He wasn't moving, but stood completely still as he watched her car.
Cheryl felt a slight chill crawl up her spine and was thankful she'd travelled 30 miles to this bar to avoid running into someone she knew.
Finally, a break in the traffic enabled her to pull out and begin the journey back to James and Nicole's house. Relaxing as Ryan's forlorn image disappeared from her rear view mirror, Cheryl turned on the radio and smiled happily.
She had gotten away with murder and was now a wealthy, young, beautiful widow. She sang along to the radio as she drove into her new life.
Good riddance, Dave. I hope you burn in hell. Forever.
Chapter Eleven
Mike groaned as he forced his sore eyes open, the pain in his head causing him to immediately wonder if he'd fallen and banged it at some point last night.
He couldn't remember.
The bright sunlight streaming through the window made Mike think of vampires and he imagined himself bursting into flames at the harsh glare that seemed to melt his eyes.
Could've at least closed the curtains when I came to bed.
He grabbed a pillow and covered his face with it
. At least I made it to bed
. He tried to remember coming upstairs.
He couldn't.
He did vaguely remember picking the phone up a couple of times to ring Mandy at her parents' house, but he couldn't remember whether he'd actually spoken to anyone.
Considering the state he'd been in, he sincerely hoped not.
He felt a sudden rush of loss so devastating that he groaned again.
Mandy is gone. She left me.
Hot tears began to sting his eyes and he forced himself out of bed and into the shower.
He went about washing, shaving and dressing before heading downstairs to make himself a mug of black coffee whilst trying to force all thoughts of Mandy and the children he'd never have out of his mind. He refused to dwell on thoughts of divorce or the image of her face, so beautiful and full of pain the last time he'd seen her.
Pain that he'd put there.
As hard as he tried, she invaded his thoughts and haunted him for the rest of the day. He cleaned out the garage, did a little gardening then tinkered with a small broken-down motorbike that had become his latest project.
He didn't call Mandy.
She didn't call him.
Finally, come tea-time, Mike was exhausted by the emotional battle he had fought and lost all day. He went inside the house and turned on the TV.
Sprawled on the large corner sofa, staring at, but not seeing the TV, Mike thought of Mandy.
He ran through the argument in his mind, sometimes feeling ashamed, sometimes feeling mortified at Mandy's accusation.
Had he projected feelings onto the Turner widow? Did he believe she was guilty purely because his wife was guilty in being unable to give him a child?
Did his anguish run that deep?
He shook his head at his own thoughts.
She did it. I know she did it.
Don't I?
He thought of the look he'd seen the Turner woman giving him as he was leaving the Harrison's living room. He knew he was messed up and that he had some serious healing ahead of him, but he knew she had killed her husband, no matter what anyone said.
Even Carl didn't believe that murder had been committed.
Mike had been put on leave and it'd been made very clear that a certain amount of compassion was felt for him regarding his personal circumstances, but that compassion would only stretch so far. He was to take a months leave and sort his problems out. He was also to see the counsellor the department had arranged for him.
He didn't want to do any of that. He wanted to move on with his life and forget the past week. His blood boiled when he thought of the Turner woman, how happy she would be right now at fooling everyone. He pictured Dave Turner's body and grimaced.
He was a police officer and a murder had been committed, but there was nothing he could do about it. He wondered if he was dwelling on this situation because it was out of his hands. He could pick the phone up right now and speak to Mandy, but no matter what he did, the Turner woman had gotten away with murder.
The thought that stunned him the most was the answer that had swirled around in his mind all day; did he want to save his marriage. And the answer was, he didn't know.
He knew that he didn't want to lose Mandy, but he had no idea if they would ever be able to get through this. He felt like everyone wanted him to be this rock solid policeman who would stay firm and strong for Mandy while she fell apart.
He tried to picture his life without Mandy, and he couldn't. He knew he didn't want to lose her, but he knew he was afraid of getting her back and everything being different between them.
What would be worse: to lose Mandy for good, or to get her back and have a strained relationship?
He couldn't picture his life without Mandy, so did that mean he wanted to call her and talk to her?
No, it didn't.
He had no desire to talk to or see her because the ugly truth of the situation was, it
was
her fault.
She was the one who couldn't have children, and she had left him because of it. Mike could see only two options: either work things out with Mandy and never have children, or leave Mandy and find himself another woman to start a family with.
It all boiled down to, what did he want more? Mandy, or children.
Both dammit. I want both.
Mike shook his head. There was no picking between the two. Any children of his own that he pictured resembled Mandy, and when he tried to imagine another woman in his life—well, he just plain couldn't.
I love her more than anything. So why am I sat here thinking all this when I should be talking about it with her?
He didn't move and remained staring at the TV.
Where would he start? How could he even begin to say he was sorry when he still felt the way he did towards her?
The Turner woman popped into his mind again as he thought of the conversation with Carl. Mr Turner's alcohol limit had been through the roof and had given further credit to the theory of accidental death, which it had been officially cited as.
All these incidents happening around him and he was powerless to stop any of it.
He didn't think he'd ever felt so helpless in his whole life. Then he thought of Dave Turner, intoxicated on his bed when fire had started to eat at him. He pictured the burnt corpse once again, its hands covering its head. He must have felt the pain, even through his alcohol dulled senses.
At least his pain ended,
thought Mike, then felt terrible for thinking such a thing. A young woman had got away with murder and his wife was infertile.
And there wasn't a damn thing he could do about any of it.
Suddenly, a car door slammed and Mike lurched up from the sofa.
Mandy! Mandy is here.
The tide of excitement ebbed as disappointment when Mike saw his father heading up the front path and he turned away from the window and sat back down with a sigh.
Not that he wasn't happy to see his father; they were very close and no-one could cheer him up like his dad. But he knew his dad had come to discuss Mandy.
The stereotypical motherin-law/daughter-in-law relationship didn't apply to Mandy and his mother; they adored each other. Mandy had probably called his parents to let them know she'd left to save them from hearing it from someone else.
The front door opened and his dad yelled “how do”, his usual greeting.
“In here, dad,” Mike called, mentally preparing himself for the painful conversation his dad was about to force him into. He suddenly felt like he had the day he'd come home at the age of 14 after having his first beer with his friends.
His dad strode into the living room, took a seat in the two seater sofa and openly studied him. Mike stared at the TV. As always, his dad won the battle and Mike finally glanced at him.
Leaning forward with his large arms resting on his knees, his father frowned. “Well, you don't look good son.”
“Thanks, dad,” Mike replied sarcastically.
His dad leaned back. “Want to tell me what's been going on then?” Not one for beating around the bush, Robert Jamison always got straight to the point.
Standing up, Mike said “I'm sorry dad, I really don't want to talk about it.” He headed into the kitchen, his dad on his heels.
“Well, that's a shame coz I came here to talk about it. So, what're we gonna do now?”
His father took a seat at the kitchen table while Mike poured some vodka into a glass. Watching but saying nothing, his dad cleared his throat as Mike downed the glass then poured himself another.
“What has Mandy told you?” Mike asked, knowing his dad wouldn't leave until the topic had been discussed. His father sighed. “I want to hear from you.”
Downing a second glass, Mike said “she's left me." He turned and faced his dad who now regarded him with worry. “She's infertile and I don't support her enough. So, she left me.”
“You make that sound like an accusation. She said you've been distant, that you won't even look at her. At first she thought you were struggling to cope with it, but now she feels like you blame her and that you're angry with her. Mandy's just found out she's never going to have children of her own, Mike. She needs your help and support—“
He flinched as Mike slammed his glass down. “
She
needs support? What about
me
? I can't have children either now. It affects me just as much as it does her, but Oh no! I'm supposed to take it on the chin and help her through it and because I can't, because I'm actually affected too, she leaves me. She's turning to me to help her through something that's her fucking fault!”
Stricken speechless by his own outburst, the anger and blame in his voice and the absolute shock on his father's face, Mike turned and leaned on the kitchen counter, his head bowed in shame.
The way he felt right then, he didn't believe anything, no words or action could have jolted him out of the dark place he felt buried in.
But his father's next words did just that.
“Your mother and I lost a baby before we were blessed with you.”
Mike raised his head but didn't turn around.
“A little girl.”
Mike squeezed his eyes shut and heard his dad's chair scrape back and he stood and approached him, stopping directly behind Mike.
“I'm not gonna patronize you and say I know how you feel, because I couldn't possibly, but I do know the pain of losing a child and the effect it has on a marriage.”
“Why wasn't I ever told about this?”
His father sighed, a weary sound heavy with decades worth of grief and heartache. “We didn't see the need to tell you. A routine scan detected a problem with the baby and we were sat down and told our daughter couldn't possibly survive outside of the womb, if your mother ever even made it to full term. Your mother was taken in and induced. She came home the next day no longer pregnant. A month later, we separated.”
Mike turned and looked at his father, who appeared to have aged in the last few minutes. His childhood had been a happy one, untainted by domestic quarrels or absent parents.
He couldn't even picture his parents arguing, let alone imagine them separating. Sure, they quarrelled and disagreed, but he'd never heard them shout and scream at each other.
He and Mandy had often commented on the strength of his parents' relationship, the banter that went on between the two and how they still seemed to enjoy each others company so much. Mike had hoped many times that he and Mandy would still be that close in years to come.
This revelation gave him hope that his marriage could still be saved.
“How long were you apart for, dad?”
“Not long, maybe a month or so. Your mother stayed at her parents' house.” His dad looked him in the eye. “Watching you just then reminded me of how I felt all those years ago. That coz I'm a man I was supposed to feel nothing and support your mother who was so grief-stricken the doc gave her medication to get her through it. No-one asked me how I was feeling. I can at least say I know how that feels. Of course, back then, men weren't supposed to have feelings, and they certainly didn't discuss painful issues. But things are different now. I apologize for wording it the way I did. Mandy doesn't just need your support, you need hers also. You need each other if you're gonna get through this. Do you love Mandy?”