Her One Mistake(43)

“Who? Brian? But why would he do that? No, you’re right,” Angela sighed. “This changes things a lot.”





CHARLOTTE


When the doorbell rang on Monday morning I’d been lost in thought. None of us expected a whole week would come and go with no news of Alice. I had dropped the children at school, Evie at nursery, and phoned the office to explain I still couldn’t face coming in, and as was frequently the case, my mind wandered to thoughts of Harriet and Brian.

When the bell blasted a second time, I answered the door to a man who looked vaguely familiar. He had a goatee and eyes that bulged under a fringe that hung slightly too long.

“Charlotte Reynolds? I’m Josh Gates,” he said, holding out a hand, a gaudy, gold signet ring glistening on his little finger. I shook it tentatively. “How are you today?” he asked in the irritatingly confident manner of a salesperson. I told him I was fine.

“I’m with the Dorset Eye.”

“Oh.” Now I knew where I’d seen him. He was the journalist at the news conference who’d accused me of being on Facebook when Alice disappeared. The one who’d subsequently written a piece in the paper. “I have nothing to say,” I said and started closing the door, but quick as a flash Josh’s foot stopped me from pushing any farther. “Please,” I said, “can you move your foot?”

“I wondered if you’d like to tell your side of the story? Make sure people know the truth?”

“I told you I don’t have anything to say. Now move your foot.” I pushed the door again but it wouldn’t budge.

“Actually, I don’t mean about this case. I mean the other story, Charlotte.”

“What other one? What are you talking about?”

“Beautiful place you have here,” he said, peering over my shoulder. “Must be worth a fair bit. Maybe I could come in so we can chat inside?”

“I asked you what you’re talking about,” I said through gritted teeth.

“Well, I’ve heard this isn’t the first time you’ve lost a child.”

“What?”

“And that one time your little boy, Jack, went missing.”

“I don’t, I—” I shook my head. In the corner of my mind, I saw a flash of the time Josh was talking about. I saw the only person who knew what I’d done, and I saw tiny pieces of my loosely-held-together world falling apart.

“Apparently he went off one afternoon and you didn’t realize he was gone?” He raised his eyebrows in dramatic shock.

“Who have you been speaking to?” I cried, though of course I already knew. I just couldn’t believe Harriet would do it.

“So it’s true?”

“Get off my property,” I said, and kicked Josh’s foot out of the doorway, slamming it shut. “Get away from my house!” I screamed from the other side of my door. “I’m calling the police.”

“I can always speak to the newsagent who found him, if you’d rather?” Josh shouted back.

“Just piss off!” I cried. I slumped back against the front door, sliding down it, burying my head in my hands. The room spun around me, bringing with it waves of nausea. Why was everyone so interested in me? They should be focusing on the monster who had taken Alice, but instead their attention was on me. Why was everyone so eager to make sure I was the one to blame?

? ? ?

IT WAS THREE years ago when Jack went missing. I’d walked home from the shops with the children, Molly asleep in the double buggy, her baby sister next to her screaming all the way, while Jack scooted a few feet ahead. As soon as I let us into the house, I needed to feed Evie before she woke Molly up.

“I hope you’re not going to be this demanding forever,” I’d murmured, lifting Evie out.

I pushed the stroller into the hallway and settled Evie on my lap in the living room. Jack was quiet and I’d assumed he was playing with his new set of trains.

With Evie latched, silence filled the house. I rested my head on the back of the sofa, closed my eyes, and let the exhaustion take over. My body ached with tiredness and it didn’t take long for me to drift off to sleep while Evie fed.

When I woke with a start, Evie’s eyes were fluttering closed in the early stages of sleep. I didn’t want to disturb her, but I called out quietly to Jack anyway. He didn’t answer, but then he didn’t always, so I lay my head back and closed my eyes again.

When the phone rang I ignored it. I didn’t want to move and I was loath to transfer Evie to her crib. When it stopped and immediately started ringing again, I carefully maneuvered Evie onto the sofa and got up to answer it. As soon as I walked into the hallway, the first thing I noticed was that the front door was wide open.

“Jack, where are you?” I called out. I was sure I’d closed it behind me. Evie started crying again. I could see her squirming on the couch that I knew I really shouldn’t have left her on, but Jack still wasn’t answering.

“Jack?” I checked my watch. We’d been home for over half an hour. “Jack?” His name caught in my throat as I sprinted up the stairs, looking into each of the rooms. “If you’re hiding, you need to come out right now.”

The phone rang and stopped and began again. It must have been the fifth time when I picked it up and cried, “Yes?” into the receiver, only to hear the calm voice of Mr. Hadlow from the corner store telling me Jack was at his counter. Someone walking past had found him outside his shop.