Silent Victim(32)

‘How do you explain this then?’ He turned away from me, parting the back of his hair. I peered beneath the dim light at the raised scar on the back of his head and felt a sudden surge of dread.

I frowned. ‘But you said you moved away? You must have come back at some point?’

Luke nodded slowly, lost in thought. ‘I missed my family. I wanted to be able to go home without worrying it would start up again. I came back for a while, but I was still looking over my shoulder. So I decided to find her, confront her about what she’d done.’

Luke’s finger trailed after the dribble of condensation on his glass. ‘I followed her home one day. I guess I wanted to see how she’d feel if the tables were turned. Ten minutes after getting there she tied a shovel to her quad bike and rode to the paddock at the back of the house. I remember standing in the field watching her, trying to gather up enough courage to confront her for what she’d done. It seemed daft, being afraid of a woman. But deep down I knew things had the potential to get worse.’ He took another swig of his beer before carrying on. ‘And they did. She began screaming and shouting at me as if I was the one in the wrong. I turned to leave, but the next thing I was falling to my knees as I took a blow to the head.’

‘So you’re saying she purposely tried to kill you?’ I said, confirming my worst fears. ‘That it wasn’t self-defence on her part?’

‘Self-defence? How could it be self-defence when I was walking away?’ Luke looked at me, his eyes wide with incredulity. ‘When I woke up, I was covered in branches and a layer of dirt. At first, everything was black, and I didn’t know where I was. The soil . . . it was everywhere. It blurred my eyes and was up my nose. The insects . . . crawling all over me, they were. They must have smelled the blood coming from my head.’ He heaved a ragged sigh. ‘I managed to claw my way up and I crawled out of the ditch. I was weak, my head was spinning. Scared the shit out of me, it did. I left after that, and didn’t look back.’

‘Did you call the police?’ I said, knowing full well he hadn’t.

‘I knew it would aggravate things, and again, it was her word against mine. I just wanted to put the whole thing behind me. So, I covered the ground in, made it look like I was still there. I figured if she thought she’d killed me then she’d leave my family and me alone. They knew what she was like, so when I went to York, they promised to keep my whereabouts quiet.’

I realised he was staring at me, waiting for me to speak. ‘Sounds like something out of a Stephen King novel.’

‘Well, it’s nothing to be proud of – being beaten up by a woman.’ A smile touched his lips, but his blue eyes were cold. ‘You’re talking to a dead man.’ He knocked back his drink, slamming the empty glass against the table. In the distance, a bell rang time.

‘I’m not saying I believe any of this, but what do you want from me?’ I said, as the few remaining drinkers made their way to the bar.

Luke masked a belch with his hand. ‘I thought about moving again, after I heard you were coming to Leeds. But I’m tired of hiding. I want to be able to move freely, without worrying what Emma’s going to do next. I could still go to the police but I prefer not to. In return for my silence, I want you to speak to her. Tell her that I don’t want her coming to the art gallery. If she sees me out and about, she’s to steer well clear.’

‘I’ll speak to her,’ I said, ‘when the time is right. But it works both ways. If I see you anywhere near my wife . . . I’ll finish what she started.’

Luke rose from his seat, his expression neutral. ‘You don’t need to worry about that. The only reason I’ve kept tabs on Emma is to make sure she’s nowhere near me.’

‘Then we understand each other,’ I said, touching his arm as he turned to leave. ‘Just one more thing. When you came back to see her . . . when was that?’

‘The date’s branded on my brain,’ he said, ‘October 2013.’





CHAPTER THIRTY

LUKE





2002


My phone dinged with another text and I did not have to look at the screen to know who it was. My siren, my temptress, my Emma. She was still sulking as I hadn’t mentioned her birthday the day before. Little did she know how much importance I had placed on her age. Silencing the engine, I plucked my phone from my pocket as I got out of the car. Whatever she texted, my response would be instant – this was not the time to be coy.

Emma: Everything OK? Sorry for being off with you. x Luke: Silly. I can’t treat you differently in school xx Emma: :-P xxx

Emma: OK I forgive you. <3 xxx

Luke: Can’t stop thinking about you. x

Emma: When can we meet? It’s been ages. You promised. xxx :-(

Luke: I’m here. Waiting. And I’ve got your present ;-) Emma: Oh! Where are you? Xx

Luke: Wouldn’t you like to know. xx

Emma: Where? Tell me now!! XXX

Luke: At Dad’s beach hut in Mersea. Remember where I told you? x Emma: Yes! I’ll be there in twenty xxxxx

I had already primed Emma by telling her about the place last week. She made it there in thirty minutes flat. I knew it was her from the on–off flicker of the light on her bike. It was late and the beach had long since cleared of dog walkers, the tang of salt on the cool, crisp November air. I had dangled the carrot. There would be nobody else here tonight. Just as I had planned. She found me sitting in the beach hut, apparently unaware of her arrival. ‘Oh,’ I said, opening the door. ‘I wasn’t sure if you were coming.’