The Dead Ex(89)

‘But you didn’t stay there,’ says the barrister, checking his file.

‘No. I had to keep moving around because every time I had a seizure, clients got scared of me.’

He nods. ‘This should go down well with the jury. They’ll be sympathetic.’

‘Did you have any contact with David?’ asks Penny.

I could lie. But I’ve had enough of that. I always seem to get found out anyway. So I take a deep breath.

‘I would leave messages on David’s answerphone to tell him where I was living – just in case he wanted to get hold of me. I kept hoping … despite everything.’

‘Not good,’ the barrister murmurs. ‘It could be seen as you stalking him.’

Then his face changes. ‘We’ve also got something to tell you.’

He glances at my solicitor. She looks nervous. I have a bad feeling about this.

‘The thing is, we’ve done some digging.’ He gives a half-laugh. ‘Lawyers have to be a bit like detectives at times, you know.’

‘What are you trying to say?’

‘You told Penny on the last visit that Zelda Darling was still in prison. In fact, when we checked this, we discovered she was released soon after Christmas.’

I go cold as I work out the dates. ‘So that means …’

‘That’s right,’ says my solicitor. ‘She was let out early, just before your ex-husband went missing.’ She gives a short laugh. ‘For good behaviour.’





Part Three




* * *





50



Helen


It’s been a long time. But Vicki Goudman is going to pay.

My footsteps are heavy as I make my way back from the Tube station to the flat. What is Mum going to say when she discovers I have finally found her nemesis?

I still remember that awful day when I visited her and the guards cut our visit short because another prisoner tried to throw coffee at me. It wasn’t even Mum’s fault. She was always getting into trouble for everything, she told me, because this prison governor had it in for her. Vicki Goudman. A power-hungry bitch who went after anyone who stood up to her.

Then the accident happened. It was months after her sentence was extended before they let me see Mum again. Until then I had no idea what had happened, or why I couldn’t see her. I hardly recognized her. She was broken. A real mess. Her hair was matted, her eyes were all glazed and she struggled to get her words out. But when she did, the first thing she said was about Vicki.

‘I didn’t bloody hit that bitch. It isn’t fair. Someone planted that snooker ball and sock in my cell to get at me. I had a lot of enemies in that place. Or maybe the guv set the whole thing up, hoping it would get me moved on to another prison. She always had it in for me.’

‘Why would she try to get herself hurt?’

Mum had shrugged. ‘Perhaps it went wrong. I don’t know. But if the blame hadn’t been pinned on me, I’d have been freed years ago. She has to pay. And you have to help me.’

My mind returns to the day I’d collected Mum from prison, just after Christmas. She’d looked so frail, standing there, clutching the plastic bag of clothes which she’d been wearing at the time of her arrest all those years ago in the park.

‘The sun hurts my eyes,’ she’d complained as I guided her to the bus stop. ‘I’m not used to it.’

With every step, she kept stopping to look around, as if she’d never seen a tree before, or a kid on a mobile phone. ‘You’re so lucky to have had all this freedom.’

The fact that I’d been sent to a young offenders’ unit for a year after setting fire to Dee and Robert’s shed (something I don’t even want to think about), and then passed from one foster family to another, didn’t seem to concern her. There was the elderly couple who could hardly walk and expected me to look after them instead of the other way round. Then there was a woman who just left food for me on the table and told me to help myself when I felt like it. Once she went away for a fortnight to Florida. Actually I didn’t mind that too much because I was left to my own devices. But Social Services found out when they made a spot check and I was put in a youth hostel which reeked of urine and had shit smeared on the walls. The others used to take the piss out of my name. ‘Come on, Darling. Give us one, won’t you? Isn’t that what scarlet women do?’

‘Bloody stupid name anyway,’ said Mum when I told her. ‘Stands out too much. You ought to change it by deed poll. Otherwise someone might link us and that won’t do you any favours – especially if you’re going to find the bitch responsible for extending my sentence.’

So I chose Helen Evans. It felt normal. Law-abiding. Safe. And I made up a family. Two parents who wanted me to make my way in life. A brother and a sister.

But Vicki Goudman was nowhere – nothing online apart from a single picture, nothing in the papers. It was as if she had disappeared.

Then one day I had an idea. I might not be able to find her. But I could find her husband. He might know where she was.

From then on it was simple. I did my research. Found David Goudman. Discovered that he and the guv had split up. Even so, as Mum said, he might know where Vicki was so it was still worth pursuing the lead. He was a self-made man, so I told him a story about my life that I thought would appeal. Got the job. Seduced him.