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Amazing, really, that she’s even worked up the courage to think like this. Ironically, Gabriel Roth’s toxic little speech, Sunday morning, was the catalyst.
Angus likes to dominate. He also likes to humiliate. And the women he selects – women like you, Teri – they’re so infatuated they let it happen. Then, once he’s broken them down completely and they’ve lost their self-respect, he moves on to someone new.
Hard to admit, but Gabriel had been right. Shehadoffered Angus everything; shehadlost her self-respect. Over the lastsix months she’s allowed him to dominate her completely. She’d even accepted his infidelity.
Fortunately, whatever dark magic he’d weaved to imprison her at Thornecroft is weakening with each passing hour. Four days ago, she’d been living like a medieval concubine, the willing inmate of a luxury open prison. Why had she ever tolerated it?
You’ll struggle to put him behind you, Teri. I know because I’ve seen it happen. After you leave this house, you’ll go into mourning for what you lost.
That’s where Gabriel’s analysis had failed. Because she’s already putting Angus behind her; and should his disappearance endure, she doesn’t intend to leave this house at all.
Remaining at Thornecroft won’t be easy. It’ll take courage, imagination – and calculated risk. Strangely, though, in the twenty-four hours since Gabriel’s visit, her hunger for reparation has grown even stronger than her fear.
Her gaze still on the Lexus, Teri thinks about the hairs she found inside: one on the passenger seat headrest and another in the footwell.
Do they help her cause or hinder it? Assuming, for a moment, that something fatalhasbefallen Angus, is it better for her that his disappearance remains unexplained? Or are indications of foul play beneficial?
Teri places the police officer’s card from yesterday beside her plate. PC Hopkins had urged her to call anytime. Clearly, she’d suspected domestic abuse. With Angus still missing, does Hopkins remain an ally, or is she now a potential threat?
Finishing her lunch, Teri climbs the stairs to the master bedroom, her body aching with the effort. The huge photo canvas she gave Angus is leaning against one wall. Staring at it, she feels revolted and ashamed.
In her walk-in wardrobe, she rifles through her drawers until she finds the lingerie set she wore for the shoot. Picking up the canvas, she limps back down the stairs.
Outside, she smashes the frame’s wooden batons. Then she bunches up the canvas and throws it on to Angus’s brick-built barbecue, along with the lingerie set. Squirting everything with lighter fluid, she tosses a lit match on top.
Teri stands there and watches it all burn. The taller the flames reach, the better she feels. Pulling out her phone, she calls Brittany Moore.
‘Hey, hon,’ her best friend says. ‘What’s up?’
‘Are you still in touch with that solicitor friend of yours?’
‘The dodgy one?’
Teri grimaces, but the chances of anyone monitoring this conversation are low. ‘The one you told me about.’
‘I’m happy to hook you up, babe, but if you’re thinking about dating him, I’ve got to say he’s kind of gross.’
‘I’m not after a date.’
‘So what do you – ohhhhhhhh,’ Brittany purrs, with obvious relish. ‘Gotcha. Yeah, he’s great. Totally reliable. What you might call an ethics-free zone. For the right price, he’ll do whatever you ask – although it’s a pretty hefty price.’
‘I’d like a conversation.’
‘Leave it with me, hon. You planning some kind of alpha-bitch power move?’
‘I just want some advice.’
‘Yeah, right,’ Brittany says, chortling. ‘OK, I’ll stop digging. Any word from the Antichrist?’
‘Not yet.’
‘Halle-fucking-lujah. OK, gotta go. I’m in the nail bar, getting my scratchers polished, but I’ll message lawyer guy and pass on your details. You just promise me one thing. You take that arsehole for every penny you can get.’
Teri hangs up. Leaving her bonfire to burn, she goes back inside the house. Her smile lasts until she returns to the dining room. Through the windows she sees Gabriel Roth’s Mercedes bounce across the drive and stop in a shower of gravel.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Joseph drives home cautiously, hoping to balance the karma of his white-knuckle race to the bungalow. Erin, phone in hand, confronts him the moment he comes through the door.