The Replacement, page 16
Her pale cheeks are a little flushed. It occurs to me that perhaps Bekah isn’t used to people baring their souls. Perhaps she is used to cold, hard facts. She’d said as much yesterday.
‘You told me yesterday that you weren’t social services. That you were investigating a crime. I didn’t do anything to Jem. I was worried about my children. That he would find a way to take them away. He knew what that would do to me. He knew. And now he has.’
She pulls in her lips. ‘What would it do to you?’
I stare at her. ‘It would lessen me. What he did already weakened me, but he wanted more. I thought I was imagining it. He did everything he could to make sure I was least able to function. He hardly paid maintenance. He taunted me with her. Bit by bit I was less and less. He pushed and pushed, but it was only when Jem’s car was found that I put it together. He wanted me to fail. He wanted me on my knees. I was an inconvenience. And now, Jem is too. She’s gone, and I’m here. I can’t prove this, either, but I feel it. I feel it inside.’
She looks at me. Her eyes soften. She clasps her hands in front of her.
‘There’s something else, Lauren–’
I interrupt. ‘Jem’s dog. She would never leave that dog. And Daniel did seem genuinely upset when he came over to mine. But that woman… did he…?’
She shakes her head. ‘Mr Wade stuck to the facts. He didn’t make a complaint against you. The things I said yesterday were my theories. He hasn’t put it together. But I have. You in the house. Recently. For whatever reason. You knew a lot about his movements with this woman. The cameras hidden in your home.’
Her breathing is shallow and quick. Her exterior is cool, but I can tell she is panicking. I think about Jem and her smirk. Her holding Angel’s hand as she walked her into school and side glancing my car where I sat weeping. Her kissing them and waving as they ran into their classrooms. The pink, pink room, and the roses. The understated gold-edged life she led compared with my lead-weighted existence.
Whatever has happened to her, I know she doesn’t deserve it. I desperately hope that she is found and returned to Daniel as soon as possible. I feel for her parents, having barely put Angel in her place for a second and experienced the pain of empathy. She asked me for help. And I would have if I had known how.
But this. This. Admitting to my episodes of deep jealousy is sacrificing myself. Being jealous is one thing, but playing it out is another. I would never, ever be able to explain what I had done adequately. I don’t even know what the consequences would be. My mind reels over stalking and harassment, and potential charges as I weigh up my options.
I can’t. I can’t sacrifice myself for Daniel. Or Jem. I can’t lose my children. Chances are she will find out anyway, but hopefully Jem will be found before that. I thought I would be free once I got the cameras back, but in reality, I am more trapped than ever. Just waiting around for Bekah Bradley to find out I was watching my ex. I rub my arms and tell myself I am sorry. Sorry for doing it. Sorry for ever thinking it was the right thing. I suddenly blurt out my feelings.
‘Where’s the line? Where is it?’
‘I’m not with you? Line?’
‘Yeah. He hurt me. Badly. I thought I wouldn’t recover. Yet there was no one to tell. Lisa, yeah, she listened. But her answer was to have a good time. Like in Sinead O’Connor’s “Nothing Compares 2 U”. You know?’ She nods. I spew out more. ‘My mum’s dead and my dad’s in Spain. I have no one else. I had to provide for my kids and keep a roof over my head. All the time I felt like I was dying. But I couldn’t report a crime. When does it become a crime? Where’s the line?’
She thinks and then speaks. ‘I was going to say when it harms someone. But no. It’s not that. It’s when something happens to break the law. Criminal law. So, I’m thinking more Alanis Morrissette. “Your House”. Problem is, life isn’t forgiving, is it?’ I shake my head. Her eyes are shining, and I see a glint of empathy. She continues. ‘And it’s one thing thinking those thoughts or writing a song about them. But it’s another thing following through. I guess that’s where the line is. It might not seem fair, but that’s where it is.’
I nod. My throat tightens to suppress the truth. I was in a bad place won’t cut it here. I can’t ask her what the consequences will be if I tell her what I did. She already knows what Daniel has told her and no charges have been brought for that. But I know if he found out I have been in his home – I shiver – his and Jem’s home and spied on them, he would make me pay. I shudder when I think of the camera in their bedroom. How would I explain it? How would I tell them I never watched them? I only watched him the other day because I needed to escape undetected.
No. I can’t. I can’t tell her. The silence in the cell is deafening.
Then she touches my arm. It’s the light touch of someone who is going to tell you something bad. I panic.
‘No. No. They haven’t… she isn’t…’
She shakes her head. ‘No. Jem Carter is still missing. But I have to ask you some more questions.’ Her eyes say ‘off the record’ and I nod. ‘Did you receive some flowers at your place of work?’
‘Yeah. From Tim. Just Tim and a kiss.’
She takes a deep breath. ‘They were ordered on Jem Carter’s credit card. We went to the address you gave us and I can confirm that the property belongs to Peter Jakeson who lives there. We checked the electoral register and one Timothy Watson who works with Peter Jakeson lives at 23 Dobson Street, Manchester.’ She looks me straight in the eyes. ‘With his wife and two children.’
I gasp. ‘No, he… he…’
She continues. ‘We obtained a warrant and searched his house and found Jem Carter’s credit card in his possession. His wife said he worked away at weekends and could not provide an alibi for the 6th and 7th October.’
I am silent with shock. Tim is not who I thought he was. Lisa was right. My God. Bekah presses on.
‘Lauren, I want you to think back to that weekend. Was there any time that he left or could have left?’
‘No. We went to a hotel. We were together the whole time on the 5th. Then on the 6th he left just before Dan turned up. She wasn’t with Dan and I wondered where she was.’ My lip trembles but I am too shocked to cry. ‘They were inseparable. She was always in the car.’ I want to mention the woman I saw the other day but I don’t. This isn’t the time. Tim. Tim. Married. With kids. ‘The only time he could have gone anywhere was when I was asleep.’
‘We’ve checked with the hotel. His car didn’t move from the car park. They checked the CCTV and neither of you left the whole time.’
I reel even more. She thinks we were in it together. None of it makes sense to me or her.
‘But we only stayed one night. We came home at lunchtime on Monday.’ I think. He did pop into work. I can hardly bear it. The reality that he could be the one who has Jem hits me. I blurt it out. ‘He did leave for a while. Just after we got back at around one. He said he was going into work. He was a couple of hours.’
She is alert. ‘Anything else?’
‘Yeah. I thought it was strange. I was talking to him about it on Sunday and he was clinical. Cold. All “now she’s out of the way”. Have you arrested him? Is he here?’
She nods. ‘Yes. We have.’ She pulls her lips in. ‘Look, you can go for now. But we’ll need you back in with your solicitor to answer some more questions about Mr Watson. Did you know he was married?’
‘No! I’d never do anything like that. I thought he lived at that apartment. He never had any trouble getting away…’
Which was, on reflection, not true. The messages. The awkwardness. The abrupt ‘no’s to invites. The scrupulously arranged plans that could not be broken. The out-of-town hotels. I am so, so stupid. Again.
‘If there is anything at all…’ I shake my head. I need to get all this straight in my mind. ‘You’ll get your personals back when you leave. But please think about it. Her life might be in danger.’
Bekah sighs. Eventually she stands. She hands me another business card. I take it and try to smile at her.
‘I will call you the moment I have anything. Please find her. Please.’
She smiles and knocks on the cell door. The lock clicks and she opens it.
‘Okay. Look, don’t go anywhere. We’ll still need to talk to you. But I’ll send someone down to fetch you.’
She leaves and I am wracked with a guilt that I have brought this on Jem. I might not have taken her, but this is all because of me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
By 9am I am on my way home. My clothes and personal possessions were returned and in minutes I was back at the desk signing for them. I read and signed a statement which more or less repeated what I had said in the interview, and another that detailed what I had told Bekah at the house. It was almost as if the past eighteen hours had never happened. But it had. And I was much clearer about what had preceded them.
I asked about Jem and the desk sergeant just shook his head. ‘No news.’
I switched my mobile phone on. There were seventeen missed calls from Tim and two from Lisa. None from Daniel or Belinda. One from Sam Smithers. Thirty-three messages. My knees buckled from tiredness and hunger, and I resolved to wait until I got home to read them. My memory argued, look what happened last time you didn’t read a message immediately but my body was weak. I needed time.
I wanted to google Jem and see if any more details were online. I wanted to phone Daniel and tell him to bring my children home. That I had been released without charge and he was wrong.
But all that would have to wait until there was a space in my life to sit down and make a plan. This couldn’t go on. I’d made some bad decisions, but that didn’t mean that I had to keep making them. I need to think. About Tim and how this had happened. About the danger I had been in too.
I ordered an Uber and waited outside the police station until it arrived. Now, as it turns the corner up to my home, I see a Blue Renault parked beside my car. As the Uber grinds to a halt on the gravel, a woman gets out of the blue car. Her tracksuit bottoms and blue hoodie tell me she is not the police. She stands, arms folded, until I get out of the car. Then she steps forward.
Her eyes are angry, and her brow creased with a frown. Her bottom lip trembles and I momentarily wonder if she is related to Jem. She doesn’t look like her at all. Completely different. Her hair is a dark sharp bob, and she is much shorter than Jem’s model height. I wait for her to make the announcement, but she doesn’t. She just stares at me, tears welling.
I step forward and, quick as a flash, she slaps my face hard. The sting takes me by complete surprise and I stumble backwards onto the bumpy gravel. In that moment a baby starts to cry. She hurries to the car and opens the door. The crying is louder, and I hear a child’s voice.
‘Mummy’s sad. Sad, Mummy?’
She’s suddenly comforting and soft. ‘It’s okay, Jenny. You look after Dane. Mummy’s not sad. Mummy just needs a moment with the lady.’
She shuts the car door as I rise. I stand in front of her.
‘What the actual…? Why did you do that?’
My face stings and I veer away as she moves towards me again. Then I see what is wrong. Her eyes are crazed, and her face is a question without a certain answer. Her shoulders slump and she holds her arms across her. I recognise the madness of seeing someone you had only imagined in your worst nightmare for the first time. The shock of the fall. I try to explain.
‘Look, if it’s Tim, I know. I know what he’s done.’ I glance at the car and the horror sinks in. ‘Are they…?’
His children. Are they Tim’s secret children? We consider each other, our anger approaching an equal level. But her face is contorted with confusion.
‘Know what?’
I snap back. ‘Look, let’s not play games. You obviously know what he’s done, or you wouldn’t be here assaulting me.’
She steps back and glances at the car. The mention of assault appears to have made her think of her kids and I rue the day I didn’t think about mine when I crossed the line. She blows air out and runs her hands through her hair.
‘Are you Lauren?’
‘Yes. Lauren Wade. And you?’
She paces up and down. She’s skinny and pale, like she’s been worried for some time. Like she’s been wondering where this guy who says he loves her is. Oh yes. I know it well. She’s wondering how this all fits together and how she can get him back. And hurt me at the same time. Because it’s this kind of madness that being on the hurting end of lies and deceit brings. A searing drive to get to the bottom of it and to get some justice that takes someone to another person’s home, to their personal space, to dole out whatever they can to set the record straight.
When she doesn’t speak, I fill in. ‘Look, I know what Tim’s done. You must know about Jem. It’s all over the news. Is that why you’re here?’ I snort and shake my head. ‘I swear I knew nothing about you and your children. He’s a liar.’
My face stings and I step backwards as she walks towards me. But she stops and calms a little. Then she speaks.
‘Oh yes. I bloody know who you are.’ She is pointing and I can feel droplets of spittle hit my smarting face. Her children are crying, and I can see she is conflicted. She looks at the car and looks at me. Then she begins to walk away down the drive.
I hurry after her. ‘Wait. What are you doing? Your kids…’
She spins to face me. ‘You want him? You get them as well. I’m done. Done.’
She starts to walk again, and I panic. I grab her arm firmly.
‘You can’t leave them. Tim’s not here. He doesn’t live here. He’s been staying at his mate’s flat in Holmfirth. He’s not here. I live here alone. With my children.’
She shrugs my hand from her arm and stares at me, confused. ‘Tim’s children? Timothy Watson. And I’m Tracey Watson. And they are our children.’
Her eyes brim over. She shakes her head and looks around. But I am a step ahead.
‘No. My children from a previous marriage. I’ve only known Tim for a few months. It wasn’t even serious.’
She is in my face. She is shouting at me and I back away.
‘Oh. A bit of fun, was it? A bit of fun? You’ve no idea, have you? No idea what’s going on.’
It’s all starting to make sense. The children are still crying, and I look at the car.
‘Yes, I do. I do now.’ I can feel the little strength I had drain out of me. ‘Look. You’d better come inside. We can talk there. Bring your little ones.’
I walk towards the house. She is unsure. I can sense the crazed anguish as I hear her footsteps behind me on the gravel. I walk towards the car, and she follows me, sobbing. She hurries forward and opens the door. Jenny jumps out and holds her arms out to me as Tracey unclips and lifts out a baby carrier. I look at her and Jenny, and she nods. I pick her up and she is light as a feather.
We walk slowly round the side of the house to the back door, and I open it. I hadn’t realised that when the police search your house they do not tidy up after themselves. Papers are strewn across the sofa and cushions upturned. Contents of drawers are on the kitchen worktops. I dread to think what the bedrooms are like. Jenny is into everything, and I scoop up the debris and fling it back into drawers.
‘Mummy, I need the toilet.’
I look at Tracey. ‘Leave him here, it’s just upstairs. Sorry about the mess. Police search.’
She nods. I put the kettle on. The baby has Tim’s eyes. He sucks his fist and smiles at me. I try to smile back and somehow manage it. He lets out a little giggle and I feel a sob in my chest. How has it come to this?
Tracey returns. She gives Jenny her phone to play with and she and the baby are distracted. I can barely look at her.
‘Tea or coffee?’
She shrugs. ‘Tea. No sugar. A dash of milk.’
Like Tim, I want to say. But I don’t. I look around the kitchen. ‘They were searching my house as my ex’s partner is missing. They thought I might have… but obviously I…’ I dig the hole for myself, and she falls into it.
‘… obviously you couldn’t have as it was him. They came round. Asked him where he was. If he was with you.’ Her voice trembles. She looks around. ‘And they found things. Her things.’
I want to ask her what. What things? What happened? What did he do? But I can’t
‘Look, I had no idea at all about–’
‘Me. And the kids? I find that hard to believe.’
‘He told me he lived in an apartment. We went there.’
She stares at me. ‘So, where did you go when he said he was away with work?’ I’m horrified. I flash back to the loved-up Sundays and Mondays and the overnight stays. The nights away and the romance. She makes a hollow laugh. ‘We’ve been together for ten years. Married eight. These two came along and he took up longer hours and shifts. I thought we were forever. Then this. It’s made me…’ She thinks deeply for a while. I hear the kitchen clock tick in the background. ‘Hollow. Empty.’
I know that feeling. I know it. I want to rush to hold her and tell her how sorry I am. But she is spiky and hurting. So I sip my tea.
‘I honestly had no idea.’
She nods through her tears. ‘How long?’
I count back in my mind. It’s been a while. ‘Months.’
Pain sears across her face and rebounds around the kitchen. She winces. ‘There must have been another one, then. Before you. Did you… sleep together?’
Oh my God. She still doesn’t see fully. She can’t understand through the block of despair. No. That comes later. That clarity when the veil of lies blows away. I stare at the stone worktop.
‘I’m not going to lie. Yes. And he never promised me anything. We weren’t officially a couple.’
I’m not sure if I’m making it better or worse. She blows her nose on a tissue.
‘Right. Was it here? Did he come here?’
I am under pressure. Tell the truth, Lauren, tell the truth. Lies have got me into this mess. I try to speak calmly. ‘I met him in a café. I went there to get out of the house after my separation. Tim and I…’ I see the pain again, a dent in her armour as I line myself up with what is hers. ‘…we went away a couple of times. And yes. He’s stayed over here. But not when my kids were here. My ex has them half the week.’
