The Replacement, page 18
And I will be honest. I will tell the truth and face the consequences. This is the scariest part of all because it means facing what I have done and never, ever doing it again. I’d often wondered what it meant when someone said another person was brave. It was often a comment on something that seemed so ordinary, but none of us know where another person has climbed from to reach that point.
Some of my clients are brave. Quietly stating their private anguish, often without a context. By the time we do dig deep and uncover the things they have been through, it is obvious that they have swum up from the depths already to face the problem they are suffering through. I hear but other people can cope so often, but those people may have a solitary problem and not legions of pain trailing them.
I grab my car keys from the worktop and push the list into my bag. I scan the house again for any sign that the police have been here. Or Tracey. I want Ben and Angel to feel that everything is the same. Stability. This is what I want for them. Finally, I push the laptop back into the space under the unit. A wave of excitement sears through me as I lock the door behind me. The children are coming home. Finally.
I sit in my car on the drive. First, I must do the right thing. I must do it before my meeting with Linda Tomson and before I pick up our children. I don’t know the consequences, but whatever happens I will have done what I have to do. I will have shared any information I had and stepped out of the game I had been taking part in with Daniel. The behind-the-scenes competition for who could get away with most – and carry on hurting each other.
I take Bekah Bradley’s card out of my bag. I don’t want to speak to her because I will stumble over my words. And whatever happens next, this way I will get to spend time with the children before the next load of trouble rains down on me. But this time it will be trouble I have caused for myself. And I will accept that and take whatever is coming my way. I can only pray with all my heart that I type a text message to her mobile number that people understand.
Hi. It’s Lauren Wade. About the cameras. You can find what you are looking for in this app. The username is LWade pw gfhadurygh45. Goes back about a year. I hope it helps. Sorry and I do regret it. I can explain.
I reread it. It sounds desperate because it is. I have tried to pre-empt what will happen when she logs into the app and sees the footage from the four cameras. I know that in major enquiries the police overlook minor misdemeanours if there has been no complaint, and it helps move the enquiry on, as long as it isn’t ongoing. This clearly isn’t. But I am still worried. Daniel would definitely make a complaint. Or would he? Bekah told me he thought I had been in the house, yet he didn’t make a statement.
He will definitely know the details of my arrest and the evidence produced – his solicitor would have asked. Jem’s jumper. The key. Yet he hasn’t made a complaint. I waver a little. But then I realise that admitting everything and taking the consequences cancels out the possibility that he can use all this as a lever against me.
I press send. She knows everything else because Daniel would have gone into great detail about how twisted I was after the separation. He exaggerated about the night at the party with Jem, making me look like a violent thug. He was determined to sully my name. Yet, I realise now, it would be difficult for him to take action because it was all on the emotional crime side of the line.
This isn’t, but I am prepared. I own it. I did it. Even if it was a temporary madness, I did much, much more than I ever meant to do. I am sorry. So sorry. And now I’ve told someone it doesn’t feel so heavy.
I drive. It’s a beautiful day and white fluffy clouds puff above the hills in the distance. I put on the radio and nod my head to a Taylor Swift song. My phone pings and I pick it up from the passenger seat. It’s eight forty-five and I am right on time. I see a response from Bekah. I tap on it and it’s a single word.
Thanks.
No clues whether it will have consequences or any questions. I run the scenario through my mind. Her logging into the footage and watching it. They aren’t recording all the time. I set them to only respond to movement. The guy I bought them from told me that this is how the battery is preserved. It charts the journey of my madness from when I installed the cameras to when I removed the last one. I gasp as I realise I will be on the last part of the footage, creeping through The Rosarium.
But she will most probably just pinpoint the day of Jem’s disappearance. See what she was doing before she set off. What she was wearing. Jem writing a note to Daniel. Kissing Pepe. Ben and Angel told me she carried him everywhere and kissed him a lot. None of it makes sense, but I hope this helps. And I hope she sees Daniel sleeping with someone else days after and who knows what else he’s been up to.
I message Lisa. She has been a good friend. I know it will be okay to speak to her again now and I can’t wait. Tonight, I will have the kids tucked up in bed and she will come over. It will be like old times. Coffee and chat.
Still on for tonight? I could do with a shoulder 😊
She replies immediately.
Yep. Is 7 too early? X
I need more time with the kids.
Would 8 be okay, not getting the kids back until 5?
She responds with a thumbs up. That’s everyone who matters contacted. I throw my phone onto the passenger seat. Que sera, sera. It will all be out in the open and I can make a new start. Eventually. I drive. I take my usual route to work but I am early. I can use this time to plan what I am going to say to Linda. I am five minutes from the surgery when my phone rings. It’s an unknown number. I pull over and answer. It could be the police.
‘Hello? Is that Lauren?’
I know instantly it is Tracey. She sounds more upbeat today. I can hear a radio in the background.
‘Yes. Is everything okay?’
There is a pause. I wonder what this could be about. I thought we had said everything we needed to yesterday. Eventually she speaks.
‘I just wondered… well, I wondered if you would talk to me about what happened. I know it’s a lot to ask, but there’s no point us hating each other.’
I stare through my windscreen as a car whizzes past me. If only I had done this with Jem. She’s calling a truce.
‘What did you have in mind?’
She laughs. ‘Oh, thank goodness. I thought you might think I was a bit mad. After yesterday. I just wanted to meet up and show you something. And talk. We’re in the same boat, me and you, aren’t we? Both been duped by Tim.’ Silence. Then she speaks again. ‘I suppose I wanted to help as well. Help find that woman.’
I jolt. Jem. She wants to help find Jem.
‘Why, do you know something?’
She sighs. ‘I don’t know. I just have a feeling… he’s–’
I interrupt. ‘Are you free for lunch? I need to do something before and I’m busy after two but…’
‘Yes. Yes, brilliant. Where shall I pick you up? I know a nice little place just outside Greenfield.’
‘No need to pick me up. I can meet you there.’
It’s inconvenient and I don’t know if I would make it in good time. I weigh it up carefully. She might be a bit bonkers but what’s the harm? Especially if she has a theory about Jem. But she agrees.
‘No, no, fine if you want to meet me. Look, why don’t we meet in Uppermill and I can show you what I wanted to, then we can have lunch? Up near the entrance to the old school?’
She sounds needy. I can hear a desperation in her voice that reminds me of the times I would call Daniel’s home on his days and demand that I speak to my children. Who can blame her? I’m surprised she has even surfaced yet after what she found out about her husband and me. And what he did.
‘It’s just something he said.’
I think.
‘Did you tell the police about this?’
She laughs. ‘No. No I didn’t. It sounds a bit crazy, but you’ll see what I mean.’ Her voice trembles. ‘And you know him, so I wanted your opinion before I tell them.’
‘Okay. I’ll meet you in the layby opposite the old school.’
It sounds like she is going to cry.
‘Thank you. Thanks. I don’t see the point in being bitter. If we can make a difference, then it makes us better than him, doesn’t it?’
I nod to myself. Yes, it does. And if only I had taken this approach to my own bitterness, none of this would have happened.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
I drive to the surgery and meet with Linda. She is both upset and sorry that the police arrived and took my things and happy to keep the space open for me. She stressed that asking me to not attend was a short-term arrangement and in no way placed any suspicion on me, rather protected patients from what she called “press intrusion”.
Linda told me that the staff were horrified that the flowers were sent by Jem’s abductor and wished me and my family well, and that Jem was found safe. I blinked at her and told her I did too. I didn’t mention Tim by name but her face pleaded for a morsel of gossip that would allow her insider knowledge.
I obliged. ‘They have the person who took Jem. It’s just a matter of time before they find her now.’
She cocked her head sideways. ‘And how does that make you feel given you dated him? Must have been a shock.’
It was the first time I had considered it, really. How much danger I had been in. All the times I had been alone with someone who could abduct a woman he barely knew. How he had been in my home. How much he knew about me. I form an answer quickly.
‘It was a shock. And thank you, I am really grateful to you for being so understanding about the time I will need away from the surgery to get over it.’
I knew full well that wasn’t her intention, but the tape recorder she had pointed to and asked my permission to record the interview has captured it for posterity. I had a contract, and I would not let her break it. She said her goodbyes and bustled off to the staffroom.
It was a shorter meeting than I intended and now I am standing by my car in the layby in Uppermill. I know this area. It’s a favourite for tourists, and Daniel and I used to bring the kids here to collect conkers from the trees near the garden centre.
I wait and eventually see her blue Escort zooming up the road. Tracey pulls in behind me and waves. She looks incredibly chirpy compared with yesterday; I expect she has had time to think. She gets out. She’s wearing a black Adidas tracksuit and her hair is freshly washed. She is pretty and I wonder what went so wrong between her and Tim. She smiles at me.
‘Hello. Thank you for this. It’s a bit weird, I know, but if it helps that poor woman.’
I don’t tell her that poor woman played my part in a different break-up. I push my hands into my pockets.
‘It certainly is weird. And please believe me, I never meant all this to happen. I had no idea.’
She is nodding and stamping on the ground. ‘Mmm. Well, let’s put that behind us for now. This is much more important. I was thinking about what he could have done with that woman. Jem, is it?’
‘It is, but don’t you think the police…?’
She laughs. ‘Yes, of course. But let me explain. Tim liked walking. He liked traipsing over the tops and country pathways. He had his favourite spots and that’s what I’m thinking. We could map them. Work out where he…’ We are both silent. She stares at the ground. I blurt out what I’ve been wondering since I found out it was Tim.
‘But why? Why would he do it?’
She shrugs. ‘Why would he do any of it?’ She looks directly at me and I see her eyes are pools of vivid blue. ‘You weren’t the first, you know. Not that I can prove it. But before you he used to go away for weeks at a time.’
I have my theories but I can’t tell Tracey. I can’t tell Tracey that her husband did this despicable thing because he wanted Jem out of the way so we could be together more. He more or less said so at the apartment. There isn’t another reason. Unless Jem isn’t the first. I shiver.
‘Oh my God. What if he’s done it before?’
She frowns. Deep lines appear on her forehead. ‘Anything’s possible. Before the kids I used to work nights. I never knew where he was.’ She smiles. ‘I’m a nurse. At the general. I still do part-time bank nursing. But his job always…’ She waves a hand in front of her face. ‘Sorry, sorry. You don’t need to hear this.’
I shake my head. I do need to hear it. ‘No, I’m sorry. Honestly. Before we go any further, I need to say something. I never, ever meant this to happen. Never. I didn’t know about you. Or that he had kids.’
She nods. She is cool and composed. ‘Would you have still done it if there were no children? Just a wife?’
My turn to frown. Somehow, I feel angry with her. Angry for making me the bad person. And for accusing me.
‘No. Of course not. Look, this is his fault. He told me he was single.’
I think carefully. Did he ever actually say he was single? He told me he had a failed relationship. But I never asked. Not that day in the café. Not on any of our romantic weekends when Tracey was slaving away in a hospital. Or caring for their children. She is nodding and smiling.
‘Anyway, that’s not the point, is it? We need to put this behind us and focus. On where your friend is.’
‘She’s not my friend. She’s my ex’s partner.’
‘Well, whoever she is, we’ve got something in common. Tim. We both know him and we know how he thinks. We need to think of everything. I’ve got a pen and pad ready. Shall we go to the garden centre and get some tea?’
I shake my head. ‘I don’t know, Tracey. I think we should tell Bekah Bradley.’
‘Oh, come on. We can do this. I want to be sure before we go to the police. I don’t want him getting out of this. Bloody hell, it’s the least you can do after…’ Her lip trembles. ‘I just want to talk. Please. I need someone to talk to.’
My heart flutters. I’ve been where she is now. Alone. Needing the truth. What harm can a cup of tea do? And Tim. Yes. She might know something. She might know what he has done with Jem.
‘Okay, okay. But I need to go and get my kids at three.’
She turns and cuts through a gap in the wall. The garden centre is a short walk away through the field and along the canal. She smiles.
‘Tea and scone on me. No point driving. We’ll be back in no time…’ I slip through the gap and she puts her hand on my arm. ‘And thank you. I know you don’t need to do this. I really appreciate it.’
The field is wet from a recent shower and I take care not to trample the daisies. She checks her phone and pushes it back into her bag.
‘I’ve known him all my adult life. Been together on and off.’
‘Same with Daniel. We’ve got two kids as well. Makes me wonder if there are any good men. But I know there are. My dad. Even Daniel’s dad. He’s had a lot to put up with.’
She laughs. ‘Yeah. To be fair, my mate’s husband is a gem. Lovely bloke. And my uncle Si. Him too. There are good people around.’
We reach the stile over the tall wall. She jumps over and holds her hand up to help me. Her hands are small and cold. She is shaking.
‘Are you okay?’
She nods. ‘Yeah. Just a bit cold. It’s all been a shock. One minute you think you are happily married and the next minute, well. I’m lucky, though. I’ve got my mum. She’d do anything for me. She’s got the kids now. She watched them when he was away and I was working. She’d do anything for me and my children.’
I think about her angry in my kitchen. But not as angry as I was. She’s taking this very well, really. People have very different ways of coping with things. In the days after Daniel left, I felt like I was on autopilot. I wanted to cry but it wouldn’t come. Instead it seeped out in bitterness and, eventually, vitriol. I never spoke to anyone. Not even Lisa. It took me weeks to even speak about what had happened. I shocked myself. I never told anyone. I waited for them to find out Daniel had left me.
Lisa was first. She saw the emotion in me and broached it. ‘What’s he done, mate?’
I’d run out of the café, the same café I met Tim in months later, crying and sobbing. She ran after me and held me on the street corner, hugging me tightly as I cried my heart out. The dam broke and I couldn’t stop.
I look at Tracey. No red eyes, yet. No tears for Tim. Not yet. But the simmering anger is there. The hand tremble and the gritted teeth. Her hands are fists and the frown is permanent. We are well along the canal now and I can see the huge conker trees towering over the low bridge in front of us. Branches laden with memories of me and Daniel and our tiny children giggling as he threw sticks up and the conkers rained down. I cheer a little.
‘Lovely cakes here. Do you come here a lot?’
‘We did. Me and Tim. Before the kids. We bought a lot of plants. We were happy once.’
She hurries. I speed up behind her as we pass under the bridge. The footpath narrows and she stops suddenly and I almost bump into her. She pulls at her shoe and I bend slightly to help her.
‘Are you okay? Can I…’
She stands up straight and tall. Her face is taut and dark with hatred.
‘I’m fine.’
In a split second she has grabbed my bag. Her arm loops mine and she swings me round. She kicks at a wooden doorway and it flings open. She has me in a bear hug. She is strong. I can feel every sinew in her body tense against me. I can feel her breath on my face. She smells of a mix of vomit and perfume.
I scream as I fall. Ten feet or so into the darkness and I feel my arm dead underneath me as I land, pain shooting into my shoulder. A streak of half-light shows me the space, damp and dark. I pull myself to my feet. The walls are smooth stone. The shaft of light flickers and I know she is still there.
‘Tracey! Tracey! Don’t do this. Don’t. You’ll get into trouble.’ My mind is racing. How had she duped me so easily? How? How had I been so stupid? I can hear her above me, struggling to shut the door as the light disappears. I feel in my pocket for my phone but it’s in my bag. Gradually, the realisation I am trapped sinks in. Once again, a victim of my own good nature; believing the best of people. Benefit of the doubt.
