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A Window Breaks Page 3
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‘Ladies and gentlemen, many of you here tonight may know that my son, Michael, was killed on the second of October last year.’
A sympathetic murmur passed through the crowd. I swallowed hard and reached out for Holly’s hand as Lionel clenched my shoulder. Far off to the side, I could see Brodie glancing over at us. I guessed Lionel had already primed him to come and talk to me about the lodge in case I didn’t follow up on his suggestion.
‘As you can imagine,’ Rachel continued, ‘Michael’s death has been overwhelming for us as a family. And as his mum, it would be all too easy for me to believe his death was the only event of any real consequence that night. But I want to talk to you about . . .’
I tuned out. Not because I wasn’t interested, but because my wife is first and foremost a doctor and it was no surprise to me that her speech leaned heavily on statistics. Mostly they were about how many crimes had been committed on the night of Michael’s death by offenders with previous convictions. Which was sad, I knew, but in all honesty I was too busy marvelling at the way Rachel was able to keep it together while I was struggling to breathe. Michael’s death had hit her so hard. There’d been days when the grief and depression had been so bad she could barely get out of bed. And now. Well. Suffice it to say my heart swelled with a mixture of sadness and pride as she neared the end of her speech.
‘. . . There is just one final statistic I would like to tell you about,’ she said, her eyes misting up as she found me in the crowd again. ‘My wonderful son wasn’t the only one to die that October night. A young man called James Finch, a two-time former offender, took his own life on the same evening. He was twenty-eight years old. He left behind his six-year-old daughter, Phoebe, and his partner of eight years, Janine. Justice For All couldn’t help James, but with your kind generosity tonight we aim to guide other former offenders just like him towards a better life, a different future. And, speaking from the heart, I’d like to thank each and every one of you for your support.’
I wish I could tell you the story of that night ended there, on a bittersweet moment backed by the swell of applause as Rachel made her way through the crowds towards us – as we hugged and I kissed her cheek and we looked at one another for a beat too long. But instead Rachel had smiled warmly at Lionel, then reached over to Holly, teasing a strand of her hair between her fingers.
‘Big speech is over, sweetheart. And it’s a school night. Are you ready to head home now?’
Holly frowned. ‘I thought you said it wouldn’t look good for you to be the first to leave?’
‘She did.’ Lionel patted Rachel’s arm and I felt a small jolt. I don’t know what surprised me more. The casual intimacy that seemed to have grown up between my wife and Lionel, or the fact I hadn’t seen it coming. ‘And then I explained that it wouldn’t look like anything because I’ve arranged for my car to be waiting for you in the alley behind the kitchen. You can sneak out that way. No one has to know.’
At first, Holly brightened. Then a flicker of doubt crossed her face. ‘What about Dad?’
Rachel turned to me and tipped her head to one side. I could see the hurt and trepidation in her eyes. ‘What do you say, Tom? Can we give you a lift to your new place? Maybe we could even fix a time to finally have that conversation?’
Perhaps it was wanting to get Rachel away from Lionel or the guy in the tux who’d been flirting with her. Maybe it was the hopeful look on Holly’s face, or hearing Rachel talk about Michael. Whatever the reason, I said yes, fetched our coats and joined Rachel and Holly outside in the alley.
And then had come the mugging. The dizzying rush of breathless, desperate terror. As bad as it had been, it could have been so much worse if one of the kitchen staff hadn’t stepped out through the swing door into the alley to smoke a cigarette. If they hadn’t shouted for help until more staff emerged and the mugger ran away.
Strange how life works. Because standing there now in the woodland clearing, looking at Rachel and Holly, I couldn’t help but wonder: what would have happened if I’d said no to going with them? How might things have been different for us? Would the mugger never have attacked? Held a knife to Rachel’s throat or punched Holly’s face? And – most crucial of all – would we be together at Lionel’s lodge?
3
After I’d reversed our Volvo into the carport, I walked back to pick up my suitcase.
‘Tom?’ Rachel called to me. ‘Wait until you see this.’
I lugged my suitcase over to join them and looked. And honestly? It was incredible.
Extending from the front of the lodge was a wooden deck that stretched way over the shallows of the coastal waters, framing a view out to sea that somehow tricked the eye into believing you were standing on the prow of an exclusive ocean liner.
A plastic leaf rake was propped against a railing to the far left. Judging by the mounds of fallen pine needles, twigs and other woodland debris close by, it looked as if Brodie had used it to clean the deck before our arrival. A flight of steps led directly into the water behind where the rake was resting.
I gently squeezed Holly’s shoulder – her muscles were tight as guitar strings – and together we tracked the view along the coast. The treeline hugged the water’s edge for as far as the eye could see, fringed by boulders and slivers of beach, interrupted every so often by rocky ridges and concealed inlets. The sea was an oily, mirrored grey that reflected the rain clouds overhead in much the same way as the giant wall of glass at the front of the lodge.
‘How much of this is Lionel’s land?’ Rachel asked.
‘Pretty much everything you can see and more,’ Brodie told us. ‘Nearest house is over two miles that way.’ He pointed north. ‘Nearest settlement approaching anything like a village is four miles beyond that. But save some of that view for later. The inside of this place isn’t too shabby, either.’
He moved back and slid aside a door in the glass wall with a flourish, leading us into a vast living space that extended right up to the very apex of the roof and was flooded with light. There was a double-height mezzanine at the back of the room. The floating timber staircase that connected to it was set flush against the far wall and a huge modern art canvas was hanging above it. The opposite wall was dressed in grey slate and dominated by a futuristic log burner that was suspended from the ceiling and hovered over the oak timber flooring and the cow hide rug that had been laid in front.
Either side of the log burner were two L-shaped couches with blankets draped over them. Set back a little way was a wire-framed recliner covered in animal fur that was pointed towards the view. There was a telescope, and behind that a glass dining table with seating for more than a dozen guests. Back the other way and running along beneath the high mezzanine was a top-spec kitchen with white granite countertops and brushed aluminium appliances.
‘Gee, I don’t know, Brodie.’ Rachel turned slowly. ‘I suppose this will have to do!’
I should have been happy Rachel was sounding more like herself. Since the attack on Holly she’d withdrawn from me again, to the point where it made me nervous. I knew that was why I’d been trying to force things in the car, and I couldn’t help cringing at how my attempts at humour must have come over. Perhaps Lionel was right. Perhaps what Rachel needed was some space, a change of scenery. It was a reminder that our being here wasn’t solely about Holly and the attack. Lionel had offered the lodge to me before that had happened for a reason.
I love my family. They mean everything to me. Moving out of home was the most difficult decision I’d ever made. And yes, it was selfish. I knew that. But I didn’t do it because I wanted out of my marriage. I did it because I wanted Rachel to let me back in. I don’t know. I guess I thought that by leaving I might jolt her into fighting for whatever was left of us. But now, perhaps, the mugging had jolted us both.
‘Is that by somebody we should have heard of?’ I pointed to the massive art canvas above the floating staircase. It featured a bright and colourful sphere made up of lots of mult
icoloured dots.
‘Damien Hirst. You’ll see some other stuff around too. Holly, want me to show you to your room?’
My daughter bit her lip and clenched her hands, looking to Rachel for help. Again, seeing her act so nervous and shy made it feel like there was a tiny chip of ice in my heart.
‘I think Holly might prefer it if you just pointed it out to her for now,’ Rachel said.
‘You could come too?’
‘I think I’m going to take a look around downstairs.’
‘Aye, no problem. Holly, I’ll carry these bags up and you can explore for yourself. Sound good?’
Holly nodded, still a little reluctantly, then lowered her hand to Buster. ‘You wait here,’ she whispered. ‘I’ll be back in a minute and we’ll explore.’
Buster didn’t like it. He watched Holly climb all the way up the stairs after Brodie, then collapsed in a heap with a grumping noise.
‘Holly, you’re just along on the right here.’ Brodie set her holdall down by her feet. ‘Door is on your left. Your parents are going to be down here at the other end of the mezzanine. Did you see the big balcony when you were pulling up?’
Holly gazed at him without speaking.
‘It connects with one of the rooms down this way. I’m going to put your mum’s suitcase in there. Your dad’ll be just across the hall.’
Huh. So Brodie hadn’t just been briefed about Holly’s injuries. He also knew something about the situation between Rachel and me. I wondered how exactly Lionel had explained it. I wasn’t sure that I could.
I looked at Rachel – she had her back to me – and felt my throat begin to constrict. Our bedroom arrangements were no real surprise, especially since we’d taken separate rooms at a Travelodge near Penrith the night before, but I still wondered if she felt the same ache of regret.
Above us, Brodie walked off, leaving Holly to grip hold of the polished metal railings fronting the lofty mezzanine and look out at the view. The vaulted space seemed to swallow her.
‘Do you want me to come up with you?’ I called to her.
‘No, it’s OK.’
‘Wait until you see the swimming pool and spa,’ Brodie shouted, from somewhere out of sight on the mezzanine. ‘You’ll love it.’
That word ‘spa’ seemed to hover in the air between Rachel and me like a note struck on a tuning fork. I studied my wife in the silence that followed, aware of a tingling heat spreading up my arms. I saw no sudden tensing of her neck, back or hands. No abrupt or agitated movements. She watched Holly duck and carry her bag away along the corridor, then turned to me with a smile that was willing, if a little wistful.
‘Swimming pool?’ she asked me.
It took me a moment to gather my voice. ‘First I’ve heard of it.’
‘Isn’t this place amazing, Tom? I feel like I’ve stepped inside the pages of a glossy magazine.’
‘It is pretty plush.’
‘Plush. Come on, don’t you feel it?’ She reached out and brushed my hand with her fingers. Her eyes darted from side to side as she studied me. ‘I think this is just what Holly needed. Us too. Don’t you?’
Maybe. Maybe not. I really wished I could believe it. You have no idea how badly I wanted to tell Rachel what she wanted to hear. But right then all I could do was force a smile and nod robotically as my mind looped again on everything that had come between us and all that had led us here.
4
‘Beer, Tom?’
Brodie was kneeling by the steps at the side of the deck with his shirtsleeves rolled up past his elbows, tugging on a length of fishing line knotted around a mooring post. A six-pack of ales bobbed to the surface. Brodie grabbed them and set them on the deck.
‘Beats the fridge,’ he told me. ‘These are from a local brewery. You think Rachel would like one?’
‘Later, probably. I think she just wants to spend time with Holly right now.’
And more to the point, I didn’t want him going in search of Rachel again. I’d already caught him hanging around her on too many of my trips in from the car with the rest of our gear and groceries. Rachel had been polite but firm in deflecting most of his attempts at conversation. My guess was she didn’t want me getting the hump about the attention he was paying her. I was doing my best to take it easy, but my patience was beginning to wear thin. If he didn’t leave soon, I was going to have to say something.
I caught the can of beer he tossed my way and popped the lid. Icy suds frothed over my hand and wrist. Out towards the far horizon, rainwater twisted above the turbulent sea. I couldn’t see any ships out there, which was probably a good thing. The waves were so jagged they looked like something out of one of the picture books about pirates I used to read to Michael as a kid. He’d really loved those books, though probably not as much as I’d loved reading them to him.
‘Won’t be long until that lot hits,’ Brodie said, indicating the rain clouds.
I nodded, listening to the waves gushing in under the deck and rattling back out over an unseen gravel shore. I pulled my mobile out of my pocket to check for messages and saw that I didn’t have any.
‘No signal?’ I asked Brodie.
‘Sorry, Tom. You’ll need to drive two, three miles that way.’ He pointed with his beer back the way we’d driven in. ‘But there’s Wi-Fi if you need to check emails. Code’s by the fridge. Lionel couldn’t stream movies to his home theatre without it now, could he?’
I had no idea there was a home theatre, let alone where I’d find it. I hadn’t had time yet for the tour Brodie had given Rachel and Holly.
‘How often does Lionel come up here?’ I asked, slipping my phone away.
Brodie raised his beer can to his lips, monitoring me over the rim. ‘Often enough to keep me occupied.’
‘And when he’s not here?’
He drank, swallowed, wiped the suds from his beard. ‘I manage the estate, take care of the grounds and the lodge.’
‘And the fence?’
‘Aye, that too.’
‘How far does it go on for?’
‘Like I said, Lionel has a lot of land.’
‘And it’s all fenced?’
Brodie nodded vaguely and swirled the beer in his can, glancing out to sea without saying anything more. I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised. Lionel has a knack for encouraging discretion in his employees. And, like Holly had said, Jennifer’s murder had made Lionel acutely aware of his own personal safety. I knew, for instance, that he hired close protection experts from time to time, especially if he was heading away on a foreign trip. He’d also put protocols in place that meant I needed two forms of ID just to get into my office.
‘Holly’s a great kid, by the way.’ Brodie toasted me with his can and swigged more beer. ‘Hope you don’t mind my saying, but I heard about what happened to you after that party in London.’
‘I guessed that you had.’
‘Holly mentioned it to me just now as well. I think she wanted to explain about, you know.’
He circled his hand in front of his face and I rocked back as a vision of Holly being punched filled my head like a vibrant red slash of paint. Her nose had been broken. After we’d arrived at the nearest hospital in a blur of blood, shouts and panic, the A&E doctor had told us it would have to be reset. I could still hear the awful crunch and Holly’s gargled scream; the thrashing of her body against the mattress. The memory made me feel ill.
‘What did she say?’ I asked Brodie, trying to keep my voice neutral.
‘That some creep tried to mug you. That he hit her before you could do anything to stop him.’
‘I guess that’s one way of looking at it.’
‘Is there another way?’
‘No, probably not.’
But it was still a difficult thing for me to accept. When you stripped everything else away – the suddenness and speed of the attack, the fact the mugger had been armed with a knife and I hadn’t been – I was still a father who’d failed to protect his daughter
when it counted. Simple as that.
Brodie tapped a nail against his can of beer. ‘When I was fourteen, there was a fair near my house.’ He looked at me cagily. ‘Came every year. Nothing special, but it seemed it to me. I kept on at my parents. When could I go and join my friends, you know?’
I nodded. I knew.
‘It took most of the day but I broke them down. They finally said I could go. But I had to take my little sister, Ailish, with me. Ailish was ten. I wasn’t allowed to let her out of my sight. And guess what?’
I shrugged. ‘You were fourteen.’
‘Right. I went off with my friends. Lost track of time. Must have been an hour went by before I realized Ailish was missing. We found her an hour after that. She wouldn’t say where she’d been, or what had happened to her. But she was scared. And she was never the same again.’
I let that sink in for a moment. ‘You blame yourself.’
‘No.’ He shook his head vehemently. ‘That’s the point. I used to blame myself. But then I realized. I was just a kid. So was Ailish. The only person to blame for what happened is whoever got to her when I wasn’t there. Whatever they did.’ He shook his head, exhaling long and hard.
I nodded awkwardly. I was sorry for what had happened to Brodie’s sister and I got what he was trying to say to me, but I didn’t know if I could view the mugging like that. I wasn’t sure Rachel could, either.
‘Were you scared?’ she’d whispered to me, once the A&E doctor had finally gone and the pain meds and the shock had tugged Holly away into sleep. I’d told her I’d been terrified. That – for those seemingly endless seconds as the man attacked us – I feared I’d lost them both.
Rachel had nodded and blinked back tears, and I’d looked up along the hospital bed, from where Rachel’s knuckles had whitened around Holly’s hand to my daughter’s ruined face. It felt like someone was cutting me on the inside, over and over. The cuts got deeper as I thought about Michael. I hadn’t protected him either, had I? And suddenly, I’d needed out of that cubicle. Needed air. I told Rachel I was going in search of a coffee machine, and that’s when I pushed aside the cubicle curtains, staggered along the hushed night-time ward and ran into Constable Baker for the first time.