and how was he going to get out?
The lights were dimmed so they could get some sleep. There were so many forms of entertainment to choose from on the LCD screen in front of him that he couldn’t seem to make a decision, but he knew he wouldn’t rest. Amy appeared to be sleeping, though he thought he knew better. She was a little too still. Her head had fallen towards his shoulder, but the only thing connecting them was a few fine wisps of her hair. A little earlier, as he glanced towards her, he’d thought he saw the damp course of tears on her cheeks, but had feigned ignorance. They were sitting too close to others to be able to talk.
He leaned his head back, closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on the drone of the engines. He wanted the practicalities of the court case to take precedence in his mind, for he had the feeling that getting Amy and himself through the next few days was going to be quite a task. But one thing kept coming back to him: that this wasn’t over – and although he didn’t know exactly what would happen during the next few days and weeks, he was starting to dread it. If only this aeroplane could have flown him further away from the inevitable, but, like everything else in life, it was moving inexorably forward.
73
Chloe woke up with a start, a shiver of trepidation running through her before she even had time to think. She looked down to find herself sprawled among a heap of bedclothes that barely covered her. It was cold. She still had her bra on underneath her half-buttoned shirt, and her knickers. But that was all. And she could hear the radio playing downstairs. She shivered, swung her legs over the side of the bed, and sat up. Her head was pounding, though she didn’t remember drinking that much, and her eyes felt swollen.
A wave of queasiness washed over her as she thought about the previous night. Mark had kissed her, and she’d kissed him back. What a mistake that had been. After they’d broken apart she remembered bursting into guilty, hysterical tears, and ranting and crying while the expression on Mark’s face varied from sympathetic to shocked – mostly the latter. She recalled him helping her upstairs and cuddling her on the bed when she had finally calmed down, and then he’d started to undress her…
Shit! She jumped up and headed for the bathroom, confirmed briefly that yes, her eyes were red and half-shut, and grabbed her dressing gown, pulling it on in a rush as she ran down the stairs.
Mark sat at the kitchen table, reading a newspaper. He was wearing the shirt and jeans he’d been in the night before, but the shirt looked rumpled and creased now.
‘Morning,’ he said, looking up.
Chloe was suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to be sick. She put her hand over her mouth with a squeak and ran to the kitchen sink, where she promptly threw up a watery mess. Acutely embarrassed, she avoided turning around as she ran water and rinsed the basin.
‘What a delightful effect I have on you, Chloe,’ Mark’s voice drifted over to her.
‘You stayed,’ she said uncomfortably, splashing her face with water and then turning around. She was remembering more pieces of last night and trying to block them out. She felt as though she’d had gallons of alcohol to drink, but knew she couldn’t have.
‘I couldn’t leave you, could I,’ he said, half-exasperated. ‘But I really should get going now. God knows what state my dad will be in after a night with just the whisky bottle for company. Hopefully not dead, is all I ask.’ He jumped up and came over to kiss her cheek. ‘I feel like a bloody nurse-maid at the moment. I’ll call you later.’
‘There’s no need,’ she began, but she didn’t have time to add anything before she was overwhelmed by the urge to be sick again. She turned back to the sink and felt Mark’s hands pull her hair back as she bent over double.
He reached across her to turn the tap on.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she said, feeling wretched and humiliated.
‘Don’t be,’ he answered. ‘Pregnancy looks like a blast,’ he added sarcastically.
She swung around, almost knocking him off-balance. ‘You know?’ she gasped.
‘Jesus!’ Mark held his hands up, a smile curving his lips although his eyes were solemn. ‘Chloe, how stupid do you think I am? You’re throwing up in the mornings, and you mumbled the word “baby” quite a bit last night – though it was hard to make out what you were saying at times – at first I thought it was an endearment.’ He mock-rolled his eyes at himself.
She could feel her cheeks burning. ‘You undressed me…’ she began.
He looked at her, and she saw his expression change to indignation as he realised what she was implying. ‘Last night…’ he began, then obviously decided to change tack. ‘I didn’t take advantage of you while you were sleeping, if that’s what you think.’ He snorted derisively. ‘I prefer my lovers conscious, and preferably not pregnant. Besides, I tried to help you but you wouldn’t let me near you – you took your own trousers off and then ordered me out.’
Chloe felt absurdly insulted and deflated by his words. ‘
‘Okay, Chloe, whatever.’ He held his hands up. ‘I really do have to go, you know. I’ll speak to you later.’ He came across and pecked her on the cheek, and she tried to avoid his gaze, feeling the intensity of it beating down on her, and leaving her more confused than ever.
74
By the time they reached Perth it was too late to do much except find their hotel and grab a meal. Alex had prebooked a twin room over the internet, but there was an embarrassing farce when they were shown to a double and he had to go back and request two single beds. The young man on reception kept his face a mask of politeness as he sorted it out.
Alex wasn’t even sure if sharing a room was the right thing to do, but he considered Amy a flight risk, with good precedent, so felt he needed to keep her close. She hadn’t said much for the whole journey, and after dinner immediately took herself off to bed. Alex’s mind was tired, but he still couldn’t sleep, so he set up his laptop and began checking things out online.
It wasn’t hard to find details of the trial. The local media had been reporting it faithfully, even if just a paragraph on dull days of legal procrastination. The evidence against the three men seemed substantial. He couldn’t see there was any way they’d be set free.
He had been so quick to get them here that it was only now, when they had flown halfway around the world, that he realised their plan was somewhat absurd. What if, somehow, these weren’t the three men they thought they were? What if this was the worst decision they could have made? What if, against all the odds, these men were found innocent? They would have to stand by and watch them walk free. Jesus, Amy couldn’t do that; it would break her all over again.
Plus there were smaller problems. He had presumed they could get into the public gallery, but what if they couldn’t? It was a high-profile case; why had they just assumed they would be able to do what they wanted, when they needed to?
He looked away from the lamp-lit desk to the sleeping bundle that was Amy, in the shadowy corner of the room. He wanted to wake her and tell her that he was hopelessly out of his depth, that every decision he had made since this nightmare began so long ago became flawed in hindsight, even if it seemed right at the time. He didn’t trust himself any more. She would be better off with Chloe, he thought, who would have some idea of how to get into a courtroom, how to follow legal proceedings. He had a pang of desire to reach out to his wife and appeal for help, but he felt that would be asking too much of her. And what if Mark were still with her? Could he bear to know that, as he sat here thousands of miles away? No, he decided – he would wait until tomorrow, when he could tell her more about the trial, before he called again. Although, in the future, would this be another regrettable choice of his – yet one more thing that he’d long to undo?
