Hi Chloe.
I hope you don’t mind me texting you like this. I just wanted to say that I had a delightful afternoon with your mother and would like you to pass on my best wishes to her again. But there is something that the two of us must discuss now. Please message me back when you get this as I’m an impatient man and I’m also only five minutes away from the local police station.
Jimmy.
I re-read the message three times, but it doesn’t get any better when I do. What is Jimmy talking about? Mum did what she had to, and that should have been the end of it.
I hear Mum coming out of the bathroom and consider calling her in here to help me figure it out. But she has been through enough today with this man, so I see if it’s anything that I can deal with myself.
I quickly type out a reply.
What do you want?
It takes less than ten seconds to get a response.
You.
31
HEATHER
When you have a secret, the cost of that is peace of mind. No matter what you do, where you go and how much time passes by, you will always know that things can never be perfect again. If the secret is revealed, then everything will come crashing down. That’s how I have lived my life for the last ten years ever since I stabbed Tim with that broken wine bottle and buried his body.
A secret like that would break most people. It would certainly be considered more than enough for one person to have to carry around with them. But here I am with not just one dark secret but two. I’ve added the memory of my burial of Rupert to my already cluttered mind as if I didn’t have enough to keep me awake at night, and I’m well aware that achieving even a few seconds of peace and clarity now will be an achievement. But as I stand here in my bedroom, drying my hair after a refreshing shower, I manage to experience those few blissful seconds of calm. I manage to forget all about Tim, Rupert and what I just did in that hotel with Jimmy, and think that maybe everything is going to be okay. I enjoy it while I can because I know the feeling will be fleeting.
And I’m not wrong.
Five seconds later, Chloe enters my room, and the expression on her face tells me that my peace is now shattered once again.
I turn off the hairdryer even though I’m nowhere near finished with my hair and look at the phone that my daughter is holding out towards me. The fact that she is willingly giving me the chance to look at her mobile tells me that something is wrong. She’s never offered it up to me before.
‘What is it?’ I ask, taking the phone and looking down at the screen.
‘It’s him again.’
‘Who?’
‘Jimmy.’
My eyes scan through the short text conversation on the screen. At first, I’m appalled that this man would text my daughter and make reference to what he and I did in the hotel, but then I keep on reading, and that becomes the least of my worries.
I see that Jimmy has not only broken the terms of our agreement by not making any more demands but that the thing he wants now is definitely off-limits.
He wants Chloe.
‘What the hell? How did he get your number?’ I ask.
‘I don’t know. Did you give it to him?’
‘Why would I do that?’
‘How else could he have got it?’
I rack my brains for an answer to that. Then I find one.
‘In the hotel room,’ I say, shaking my head. ‘He must have looked at my phone when I was in the bathroom.’
‘How did he unlock it?’
‘I don’t know, but how else could he have got your number?’
Chloe can’t offer any suggestion, but that’s not my most pressing concern right now. The fact this man wants to sleep with my daughter takes precedent over the minor details.
‘Well, obviously, it’s not going to happen,’ I say, feeling a rage burning up inside of me that I haven’t felt in a long time.
I haven’t felt it since the night Tim died.
‘I don’t get why he’s doing this,’ Chloe says. ‘I thought all he wanted was for you to sleep with him.’
‘That’s what he told me. But he was obviously lying.’
‘So what do we do now?’
‘I’ll call him,’ I say, handing my daughter’s phone back to her before going in search of my own.
Retrieving it from where it lies on the bed, I find his number and make the call.
I let it ring as long as possible, but there’s no answer.
Why isn’t he picking up?
‘He’s not answering,’ I say, my heart thudding in my chest as I continue to grow angrier at the message he sent to my child.
‘Wait, he’s just texted me!’ Chloe cries, and I rush over to her to read it.
Tell your mum that I have spent enough time talking with her. Now I will only deal with you.
The message from Jimmy makes it clear that Chloe has to be the one to call or text him now. He’s trying to cut me out of the equation. But I’m not going to let that happen.
‘Call him,’ I say to Chloe.
‘But I don’t want to speak to him!’
‘I’ll speak to him! We just need him to answer!’
Chloe reluctantly does as I say, putting the call on speakerphone as it rings.
‘Hi, Chloe.’
Jimmy’s voice comes down the line loud and clear.
I grab the phone from my daughter and put it to my ear.
‘What are you doing? We had a deal!’ I cry, and I notice Chloe’s reaction at how desperate
