The Dead Ex(105)

My heart sinks. ‘You’d better come in.’

Already I’m cursing my decision. But part of me can’t help being curious. ‘What do you want? How did you find me?’

She ignores the first question and goes for the second. ‘Online, actually. Your name came up under the hostel. Deputy warden, I believe.’

I can’t help the note of pride that creeps into my voice. ‘I was promoted recently.’

As I speak, there is a high-pitched cry. I’d been hoping she wouldn’t see. But now her eyes are riveted on the Moses basket on the floor by my desk. I pick up my daughter, holding her against my chest and patting her gently. Mum had been right. Even though I’d been terrified about how we’d manage, and despite the fact that I loathed her father, the loving bit just came naturally.

‘What have you called it?’ she asks with a note of wonder in her voice.

‘It’s a she,’ I correct her. ‘Her name is Hope.’ I give a short laugh. ‘It seemed fitting.’

Mum’s old enemy has tears in her eyes. ‘That was one of the names on our list.’ She appears to struggle for a moment, trying to compose herself. ‘You bring her with you to work?’

‘I want my daughter near me, and anyway I can’t afford child care.’

‘Actually, that’s why I want to talk to you.’ Her fingers are twisting themselves together in a cat’s cradle as though she’s nervous. ‘I’m aware that I was convinced your mother had attacked me, not just from the ball in her room but because of her earlier behaviour. That was wrong of me.’

I think back to last week’s prison visit. Hope and I see Mum every Sunday. I owe that much to her. ‘You’re right, so why the hell are you here?’

‘Has my ex-husband offered to help you out?’

‘That’s none of your business,’ I snap.

There’s a nod. ‘You’re right. The thing is, we’ve all done things we shouldn’t have. And that’s why I’d like to offer you a monthly allowance, or an annual one, if you’d prefer that.’

What? ‘You think you can buy me off to ease your own conscience?’ I stand up, facing Vicki head on. ‘I don’t want your money. I’m not going to pursue David for it either because I don’t want him in our lives. I’ve got a regular job with accommodation. We’ll manage, my daughter and I. We’re a team.’

For a minute I think of the photograph again and the ‘Looking For’ ads. It would have been nice to have found my grandparents. But maybe I have to accept that a resolution like that only happens in fairy tales. At least Hope is real.

‘I see.’ Vicki Goudman flushes. ‘Of course. I … I just thought I’d ask. I’m sorry I’ve offended you.’

To my relief, she turns to go. But at the doorway, she stops. ‘Good luck with your baby. Something tells me you’re going to be a great mother.’

And then she finally goes, leaving just a faint scent of lavender in the room.





65



Vicki

24 January 2019


David is in Dartmoor prison. It’s spooky. You have to go for miles through the moor past wild ponies and stony tors. Then suddenly you come to this scary stone castle-like building with a sign on the arch that reads ‘Parcere Subjectis’. Apparently, it’s Latin for ‘Spare the vanquished’. In other words, be kind to prisoners. Does David really deserve that, I wonder.

I follow the officer down stone steps and feel my blood chill. You can sense the ghosts: men who’d been brought here over the years since Napoleonic times.

And now my ex-husband is one of them. It didn’t take the jury long to convict him of his role in my attempted murder. He might not have instructed Jackie to do it but he’d finally admitted to telling her that he wished I was dead.

The visitors’ room is surprisingly pleasant, with modern chairs and tables. To be honest, I was amazed that my ex agreed to see me. But now here he is, being brought in by an officer. He looks like his old charming self. Somehow he actually manages to suit the serge prison uniform.

‘Vicki,’ he says, stretching out a hand as if we are old friends. I am taken aback. There’s no sign of remorse. No guilt. We could almost be friends, meeting up at a cocktail party.

‘No touching,’ snaps a prison officer. Too late. The feel of my ex’s flesh makes my stomach contents curdle. Quickly, I step away.

‘Only trying to be civilized,’ says David. He looks around at the other men and for a minute I see the fear in his eyes. ‘I like to keep up my standards in a place like this.’

If he’s expecting polite conversation, he can forget it.

‘Do you know why I’m here?’

He spreads his hands in a you tell me way.

Tears fill my eyes. ‘I have to know how you could have caused the death of our child. You loved it. You wanted to be a father.’

I need to face him. See the man who took away my son. Our son.

He leans towards me over the table. His face is now deadly serious. ‘I did want to be a father, believe it or not.’

‘Because you thought it would add to your credibility?’

‘No. Not just that.’

A haunted expression comes into his eyes. ‘I thought it would be a chance to start again. Get it right this time. Be there at the beginning. I didn’t tell Jackie to attack you.’