front of kids’ TV. She didn’t have any homework. But she kept going to the window and looking out, trying to see over the fence.
“Come on, Luce,” I said, “let’s go to my house.”
Her eyes widened. “But Mummy says it’s dirty.”
Thanks a lot, Caroline, I thought. “No, it isn’t. And I’ve got a new DVD you can watch.”
“Which one?” she asked excitedly.
“Surprise, surprise,” I said. I’d picked up a Disney she hadn’t seen on the way to the school. The trick was to get her out of the house before either of the Rooneys got back. Fortunately she was now sufficiently distracted. I also mentioned that I had alphabet spaghetti for her tea, a foodstuff banned by Caroline.
At last we were out on the street. As we walked away, my heart was pounding like a drum.
Did I have the nerve to keep up this kind of pretense?
The phone rang at half past six.
“Matt, where’s Lucy?” Caroline sounded anxious.
“Hello,” I said, trying to lower the tension. “Nice to talk to you, too. Did you have a good day? She’s here, of course.”
My ex-wife wasn’t to be pacified. “You know she’s not meant to be round there during the week. Has she done her homework?”
“She didn’t have any. She’s done her piano.” I tried to keep my voice as neutral as I could. “You sound uptight. What’s the matter?”
“I’ll tell you what the matter is. Happy’s gone missing.”
“What?”
“Did you see her when you were round here? Shami’s going spare.”
“No,” I said, feigning sudden enlightenment. “Now you mention it, we didn’t.” I glanced at Lucy. She was engrossed in Hercules. “I thought she was inside.”
“No, they left her in the garden this morning.”
“Oh, right. I didn’t notice.”
“Look, it’s probably better if you keep Lucy round there for another half hour. I don’t want her to be upset by this.”
“Okay.”
“Have you got something she can eat?”
“Um, yeah.”
“Something that isn’t full of artificial preservatives and E numbers?”
“Yes.”
“All right,” Caroline said doubtfully. “I’ll see you later.”
“Look,” I said, suddenly realizing I couldn’t face the Rooneys, “you can come and get her, can’t you? I’m actually trying to write something this evening.”
“I’ll believe that when I see it.”
Cow.
I had the computer on when Caroline arrived, the screen showing a couple of lines of an unsolicited album review.
“Hello, sweetest little girl in the world,” Caroline said, kissing Lucy. She was wearing a black skirt and a matching woolen cardigan that set off her bobbed dark hair. Black was apparently color of the day in the City.
“It’s the God of the Underworld,” our daughter said, pointing to the TV. “He’s funny.”
James Woods’s voicing was indeed a cracker, but I had other things on my mind. Seeing the two of them together brought home how fragile they were; how easy it would be for the maniac who’d sliced up the dog to move on to them. At the same time, I felt a burning desire to share my burden with someone, to lighten the load that the bastard had saddled me with. But I restrained myself. Maybe if Caroline had been on her own I’d have summoned up the courage, but with Lucy there it was impossible.
“What’s the matter with you?” my ex-wife said in the blunt manner she’d got used to taking with me over the years.
I shrugged. “Work. You know…”
“Lack of work, more like.” Her eyes flared. “God, you’re so indecisive, Matt. Why can’t you just write a different book and sell it to a different publisher? Why do you have to take everything so personally? It’s not their fault you wrote stuff they couldn’t sell.”
“Spoken like the caring soul you are,” I said, unable to hold back. “Since when did you know anything about the publishing business?”
I realized too late that I’d given her an open goal.
“I’m an economist, stupid,” she said, touching her temple. “It’s what I do.”
Lucy looked round from the sofa. “Mummy, Daddy, stop arguing,” she said plaintively.
I felt something break inside me. It seemed that Caroline had a similar experience. We nodded to each other and declared a silent truce.
There was an uneasy silence while Lucy watched Hades get his comeuppance and I pretended to write about the new Laura Veirs album. Then they got their things together and headed downstairs.
I followed them, fear welling up inside me. “Do you want me to walk round with you?”
Caroline stared at me. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“All right,” I said, bending down to kiss Lucy. “See you in the morning, sweetie.”
“Good night, Daddy,” she said, glancing at each of us in turn. “It would be so nice if we could all sleep in the same house sometimes.”
Both Caroline and I failed to come up with a response to that.
I watched them down the street as far as I could see them, and then went after them, skulking in the dark areas between the streetlights. They got home without incident. As I turned to go home, I saw an elderly man in Ruskin Park with his dog.
He glared at me as if I were a stalker.
The irony of that did not make me feel any better at all.
When I got back, I opened my e-mail program. I’d managed to put off doing that while Lucy was there, but now I had no excuse. I felt my stomach constrict as the receiving mail icon flashed. The process went on for some time.
When the chime went, I saw that I had a message with an attachment from 1612WD via another mail provider. The bastard. I now understood what he was calling himself, but I had no idea why. What was in the attachment? I downloaded a digital image. It showed me carrying the wrapped remains of Happy to the Volvo. Shit. He’d been there, judging by the angle and trees at the far side of the park. He must have had a camera with a seriously good zoom. I couldn’t remember anyone taking pictures in the vicinity when I was loading the car.
I went back to the message.
It’s me again, Matt. Thought you’d like to see one of my snaps from today. There are plenty more, some from inside Lucy’s bedroom before you got there and others from Farnborough. I don’t think your ex-wife or her neighbors would be too happy if they saw them, let alone your daughter. She was very fond of the dog, wasn’t she?
How the hell did he know all this? He must have been staking us out for weeks.
I’ve also got some e-mail addresses that I won’t hesitate to forward the photos to if you start being uncooperative, Matt. I read on. He’d somehow managed to get hold of Caroline’s company e-mail, as well as Jack’s and Shami’s at their places of employment. I don’t imagine your ex-wife would be impressed if she found out that you’d disposed of the neighbors’ dog. She’d take it as an indirect threat to Lucy and get her lawyers on to you straightaway. No visiting rights, no nothing. You get the picture? Sorry, that wasn’t funny.
It wasn’t, but he’d nailed me very successfully. The divorce had been a bad one, with Caroline wanting rid of me and me not wanting to put Lucy through the mangle. This would be just what Caroline needed to get me out of her life. But how did WD know? Or was he just guessing?
I’ll be in touch again tomorrow, the message ended. That’s when you’ll be starting work for me. Get a good
