Silent Victim(43)

I interlocked my hands behind my head as I lay on the pillow, trying to make sense of it all. ‘You might have pressed the button to open the doors by mistake? That makes a clicking sound too.’

Silence passed between us, and all I could hear was the soft brush of the wind against the windowpane. Somewhere in the distance, an owl shrieked. A wave of tiredness overcame me.

‘I don’t know,’ she said eventually. ‘I’m tired of talking about it. I just want to go to sleep.’

I felt the gap between us widen. It was almost like a physical shift as Emma drew herself away to the edge of the bed. Up until then, I had always been the one who fixed things. But now I lay there, my head full of dismantled thoughts that I could not repair. Emma was upset because I had not sided with her straight away. But it was such a big ask when my head was still filled with revelations. She said she had killed someone yet their body was gone. She claimed she had been stalked by Luke, yet the man I’d met was polite and charming, and said Emma was dangerous and unhinged. I had cast his words aside as I didn’t want to believe them. I’d told myself that, when we moved, everything would be OK. But we were building up to something; I could feel it. Jamie could have died due to Emma’s lack of care. I was out of my depth. I needed to speak to somebody who could advise me what to do. Theresa. If anyone knew the truth about Luke and Emma it would be her. She was the one person I trusted to tell it like it was.

‘He’s out there,’ Emma said, just as I was drifting off to sleep. ‘He’s out there waiting for me, and there’s nothing I can do.’

I blinked, checking the bedside clock. It was three in the morning. ‘Emma?’ I said listening in the darkness for her response. But she was asleep, having another bad dream. I closed my eyes, wishing we could escape this living nightmare.





CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

EMMA





2003


My heart thumping double time, I closed the toilet cubicle and pulled down the seat before dumping my schoolbag on the floor. Tears pricked my eyes, my limbs shaking from humiliation. It was bad enough that I’d not heard from Luke over Christmas, but this latest betrayal was too much. I heard the swish of the main door open and tried to mask my sniffles into a tissue. A sharp knock on my cubicle door made me jump to my senses.

‘Come out, Emma, I need to talk to you.’

It was Luke. What was he doing in the girls’ toilets? I held my breath, unsure. His anger was apparent by the tone of his voice, but I had a right to be angry too. I blew my nose, blotting the mascara beneath my lids. I had returned to school after closing time, knowing he was staying on late to mark our work. Foolishly, I thought I could win him over. ‘I don’t want to talk to you,’ I said, rising from the seat just the same.

I had barely slid the lock across when he pushed open the door and dragged me out. ‘You’re hurting me,’ I said, wincing as his fingers bit into my flesh.

‘It’s nothing compared to what I’ll do if you don’t drop this.’ Spittle laced his words as he pressed his face close to mine.

My eyes roamed over the other empty stalls. He was taking a chance, coming in here where anyone could walk in. But an after-school football match had driven any stragglers outdoors. I recoiled from his grip, the fury in his gaze telling me that rational thought was not present. A bright-pink flush had risen from the neck of his shirt collar, and his eyes bulged in their sockets as his anger became clear. For the first time in my life, I was scared of him. ‘I saw you . . . with her.’ My words trembled as he loomed above me, his muscles taut beneath his shirt. I had gone to his class in the hope of speaking to Luke alone. Finding him alone with another student had been the last thing I had expected to stumble upon. I knew the girl by sight; her name was Sophie. She must have been only fourteen or fifteen, yet he was leaning over her, his hand guiding hers across the page as she drew. Her long blonde hair shadowed her face, but not enough to disguise the blush rising to her cheeks. I had forgotten my previous promises of discretion as I launched into a tirade. Her eyes wide, the girl had looked at me as if I had lost my mind.

Luke lowered his voice to a menacing whisper as the caretaker’s whistles echoed from the hall. ‘I’m a teacher. It’s what I do. Now, I’ve tried asking nicely. If you don’t stop this ridiculous behaviour I’ll take things further.’

‘Like you took things further in the beach hut?’ I asked, hurt casting an edge to my words. ‘I know why you’re doing this. You’re scared of getting too close because of what happened to you when you were young.’

Taking a step back, his anger seemed to evaporate at the mention of his shared secret. A cold, thin laugh escaped his lips. ‘Do you really think that’s why I can’t stand you any more?’ Placing his hand on my shoulder, he pushed me towards the mirror. ‘Look at yourself, with your greasy lipstick and cheap perfume. You’re pathetic. Why the hell would I be interested in you?’

My stomach churned as I was faced with my reflection. The cosmetics were a Christmas present from Tizzy, and I’d worn them in an effort to win him back. But my attempts at applying it needed practice, and under the strip lighting of the school bathroom I was reminded of a scene with my mother all over again. The night she left, shoving my face into the mirror, telling me what a pig I had become. Tears streaked down my face as I bore the brunt of Luke’s cruelty, each word slicing into my soul. But he was not finished yet.