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‘Because the whole world is watching, for a start,’ Joseph replies. ‘But mainly because Erin’s my wife and I love her – and because I can’t let her deal with this alone. I know that must sound crazy to you. Half the time it sounds crazy to me. But everything she said and did at Thornecroft I did back to her and worse. When you have a son, or a daughter, there’s not much you won’t do to keep them safe.’
Max drains his glass, shakes his head. Then he goes to the bar and orders two more beers.
SIXTY-SIX
The next morning Joseph takes a cab to Leuchars, where he catches a train to Edinburgh. From there he boards a second train for the long journey home. The peace he’d felt in St Andrews evaporates as he approaches Crompton.
Last night, in the pub, he’d purposely kept some things back. He hadn’t told Max that these days he does most of the cooking. That he avoids eating anything Tilly’s made unless he can randomly choose a plate. Most of the coffee he now drinks he buys from Costa.
He no longer believes that his wife’s second husband died by suicide. He’s convinced that Tilly poisoned Mark to protect Erin and safeguard their mother–daughter relationship. Now, through his words to Gabriel at Thornecroft, Joseph has likewise proved himself a threat:She’s a damaged kid. I had no idea how damaged. But Max isn’t responsible. She is.
Their house is no longer stocked with weapons he could call on in an emergency. Instead, he’s filled it with CCTV. Two cameras cover the front of the house; another two cover the rear. Inside, three more keep a constant watch, including one hidden inside a smoke alarm. Each night before he gets into bed, he locks the bedroom door.
In the last few weeks, he’s discovered something elsedisturbing, the answer to something he’d noticed during those four hellish days in August: the fate of the personal items from his old life with Claire.
Tilly hadn’t touched his bereavement box, nor Max’s, but in the attic he’d discovered a few storage crates stuffed with keepsakes he still cherished. There hadn’t been many. The rest he guesses she’d destroyed. Perhaps she’d decided that reminders of his late wife posed yet another threat to Erin’s wellbeing.
Since her release from hospital, Tilly has treated him much the same as before. The friendliness is still there – and the banter. But sometimes he’s caught her looking at him with an expression that’s anything but friendly. Her smile has always come quickly. And then the moment is over until the next one.
She’d be crazy to try anything, especially with all the media attention she’s attracting. He wishes he could draw more comfort from that than he does.
Erin meets him at Crompton’s station, kissing him when he climbs into the car. ‘You smell good,’ she tells him. ‘Is that a new one?’
‘Something I picked up in Edinburgh.’
‘Well, I like it. How was Max?’
‘Worried about me and you. How’ve things been here?’
‘She’s accepted that mentor role. Apparently there’s now a magazine column on offer.’ Erin shakes her head. ‘What the hell are we going to do, Joe?’
‘Right now, I really don’t know.’
She kisses him again. ‘I’ve missed you. Thank God you’re back.’
Inside the house, he finds Tilly curled on the sofa with a glass of wine.
Hard to believe it’s the same girl he saw at Thornecroft,her face a smashed ruin. Tilly’s right cheekbone is still a little sunken, but an upcoming surgery should fix that. Her new teeth look even better than the old ones. Recently, she’s had dermal fillers injected into her lips to improve her smile.
‘Hey, Axe Man,’ she says. ‘How was Bonnie Scotland and Bonnie Max?’
Joseph smiles tightly. He hates it when she calls him that. ‘He seems to be enjoying the course.’
Tilly sips her wine, studying him over the rim of her glass. ‘You want a brew?’
‘Thanks, but I had one on the train.’
‘You must be hungry,’ Erin says, rubbing his back. ‘How about some food?’
Joseph looks around the room. He sees that in his absence the photograph from the Huntingdon Manor fundraiser has disappeared, as he’d thought it might. ‘Maybe we could order from Mr Wu’s.’
SIXTY-SEVEN
Joseph wakes to darkness, with no idea how long he’s been sleeping.
As always, the first moments of consciousness belong to thebeforeand not thenow. When his heart rebounds, he reaches instinctively for Erin. Beside him she’s warm in slumber.
He hears something, then, or thinks he does, even if he can’t describe it. Maybe he just senses it. A wrongness about the house. A feeling that something chaotic has crept close while he’s been sleeping. Something ruinous and wicked.