Page 31

THIRTY

MONDAY 3 FEbrUARY

There’s silence on the other end of the phone, and Kate wonders if they’ve been disconnected. ‘Ellis?’

‘Yes, I’m here.’ But his tone of voice suggests he’d rather not be. A guilty conscience?

‘Harper found the cameras. Where did you hide them?’ Kate won’t tell Ellis she thinks he might have given the cameras to Harper. Now that Kate knows Ellis knew Jamie, any trust she had left for him has withered away.

‘I did what you told me. Look, I’m about to leave for work.’

‘Can you pick Thomas up from school today and have him at yours? For the night?’

There’s a brief pause before he answers. ‘Yeah. No point me asking why you need me to have him?’

Kate thanks him and tells Ellis she needs to go.

David is the next person she needs to call. Once again Kate is asking him to cover for her, but she’ll make it up to him when this is all over. And to Ellis.

As soon as the call ends, Kate dials Faye Held’s number, glancing at the clock to see how long she has before she’ll need to wake Thomas for school. And Ellis won’t be long.

‘Hi. What’s happening?’ Faye’s voice is chirpy, as if she’s already been up for hours.

‘Can we meet? Today?’

‘Not even a little hint? I’m a busy woman, you know.’

‘Please, Faye. Harper’s dragging my son into this…and that terrifies me more than anything. I need to prove that she’s the one who killed Jamie. If we go over everything together, maybe you can help me see something I’ve missed?’

‘Not sure what you think I can do. And that’s a big leap to make about Harper being a killer.’

‘Yesterday you said you trusted me, so?—’

‘That’s not exactly what I said, Kate. I said we all have to pick a side. It doesn’t mean I trust you. I just said I don’t trust Harper.’

‘Please, can we meet today? There’s got to be a way we can prove Harper’s responsible for Jamie’s death, and if we get our heads together then?—’

‘Hey, I’m a true-crime podcaster not a detective.’

‘Yes, but you’re a very creative one. Please, Faye.’

Faye exhales loudly. ‘Okay. But you’ll have to come to my place. I have a home studio and I’m a bit chock-a-block today. Say around lunchtime – one o’clock? I’ll send you my address.’

‘Thanks,’ Kate says, ‘I’ll see you then.’ She hangs up before Faye can change her mind.

Kate gets to Stoke Newington before twelve and finds a coffee shop, slipping inside to escape the biting cold while she waits.

After forcing down a barely lukewarm coffee that’s far too bitter, Kate wraps her scarf around her neck and makes her way to Brighton Road.

She sees the glaring lights of the ambulance as soon as she turns onto Faye’s road; two police cars are parked haphazardly, and a swarm of onlookers are huddled on the pavement.

Kate walks faster, checking door numbers as she goes. Outside number fifty-two – Faye’s house – a police officer stands guard by the door, while two paramedics carry out a woman on a stretcher. It’s Faye, her long braids dangling over either side of the stretcher.

Rushing over to them, Kate tries to get closer, but she’s ushered away by the police officer. ‘You can’t go in there,’ he says.

Kate stares at him, then looks back at Faye. Her face is unrecognisable under the deep red blood and purple bruises. Kate claps her hand to her mouth.

‘Do you know her?’ the officer asks, his voice warmer now.

Kate’s about to tell him she does, but she can’t be any part of this. ‘No…sorry, I thought it was a friend of mine but it’s the wrong house. How awful. Will she be okay?’

‘I’ll need you to move back, please,’ he says, ignoring her question.

‘Will she be okay?’ Kate repeats, feeling as though she in a trance.

‘It doesn’t look good. Now stand back, please.’

Kate slowly moves back, folding herself into the crowd of onlookers that’s expanding by the second. And then when no one is paying her any attention, she slips away and rushes back towards the station.

The first thing she does when she gets home is check her phone again. There’s no news about Faye on any social media so she calls Homerton hospital, the closest one to Faye’s house, only to be told that they can’t give out any information about patients over the phone.

Frustrated, Kate ends the call and scrolls through Faye’s Instagram. It’s too much of a coincidence to believe that this has nothing to do with Kate. She’d only just spoken to Faye and arranged to meet her, and then she’s attacked. Because she was helping me. But with no news of it anywhere online, Kate can only speculate.

Putting her phone in her pocket, Kate grabs her coat and leaves the house.

By six p.m. she’s outside Rowan’s practice in South Kensington, hovering on the pavement, waiting. A young man leaves, pulling up the hood of his coat to shield himself from the cold, and then a few moments later, Frieda steps out.

Kate waits until she’s disappeared around the corner, then crosses the road and heads inside. She can’t worry about what Rowan will think of her turning up like this – there’s too much at stake.

She calls his name as she steps inside, just to warn him of her presence.

His door opens and Rowan stands there, frowning, his arms folded in front of him. ‘Kate. Um…this really isn’t?—’

‘I know what you’re going to say – but there’s no one else I can turn to. Please will you just listen to me for a minute? And then I’ll leave you alone – I promise. I’ll go to that person you’re referring me to. It’s just…you’re the only one who knows everything.’

Kate can tell from the way his eyes narrow that Rowan’s not convinced she’ll go to another therapist this easily. He doesn’t want her in his clinic, but she will stand her ground.

Rowan glances past her. ‘Come in, then,’ he says. ‘But I don’t have too long. I’m going to the theatre tonight.’ He leaves the door open and gestures for her to sit. ‘This is highly inappropriate, Kate. I know you must realise that. You’re putting me in a very difficult position. All the things I know – I really have to be informing the police.’

She nods. ‘But aren’t you always telling me things are never black and white? You’re the only person I can speak to about what’s happening. And isn’t it okay now that technically you’re not my therapist any more?’

‘Sadly, it doesn’t work like that. Ethically. You were my patient for two years. I’ve referred you to someone else but that hasn’t quite gone through yet.’

Kate ignores him. As soon as she talks, Rowan will understand. And he will help her. ‘I think Jamie’s wife tried to kill someone today.’

Rowan’s eyes widen and he stares at her. ‘Why do you think this? Who?’

Kate explains about her meeting with Faye Held yesterday, and how the two of them were due to meet this afternoon. How Faye was going to help her gather evidence that Harper was responsible for Jamie’s murder.

Rowan is attentive as he listens, his expression unreadable. ‘Kate, I must insist that you tell the police this. Immediately. Have you even gone to see them yet? You promised, Kate. You know that’s the right thing to do. Even more so if what you’re saying has any plausibility.’

‘It does,’ Kate says. But now she needs to lie to Rowan – it’s the only way she’ll get him onside. ‘I have been to the police.’ It’s all she can do not to look away from him.

Rowan’s shoulders relax. ‘Okay. Good. I know that won’t have been easy. What did they say?’

‘They’re looking into everything.’

‘Did you tell them everything, Kate? That you were with Jamie Archer that night?’

She nods, shame flooding through her body.

‘Okay. But I’m a bit confused – you said you need my help.’

Kate stares up at the ceiling. ‘I don’t know how this happened. How my life turned in this direction. All I care about is Thomas. Keeping him safe. Protecting him. He doesn’t deserve to be dragged into this.’

‘You are protecting him, Kate. It’s always been clear to me how much you love him. And even with your…challenges with anger, you’ve always been calm and rational with him.’

‘I would never even raise my voice to him,’ Kate says. ‘Even when he’s trying my patience. So you understand my need to protect him, no matter what?’

‘Yes,’ Rowan says, frowning. ‘But what is it you need me to help with?’

‘It’s very difficult. When I think…I think Ellis might be tied up in this. I don’t think for a second he’d hurt Thomas, but?—’

‘Kate…this is hard to believe?—’

‘I know. But…he was seen with Jamie in the summer. They were in a bar together. Socialising. But when I showed Ellis a photo of Jamie, he claimed he’d never seen him before. And I’ve been thinking about finding that photo of Jamie in Thomas’s school bag. Ellis picked him up that day and was alone in the house until I got home. He could easily have slipped it in there ready for when I got back. He knew Thomas would never bother checking in his bag after school. He just waits for us to check it. What if I’ve got it wrong and it wasn’t Harper at all?’

‘I suppose that’s possible,’ Rowan says. ‘But it doesn’t really prove anything. Circumstantial. Maybe Ellis is telling the truth. And the person who saw them is mistaken? You have to look at it from all angles, Kate.’

‘I know. And I am. But…I’m scared, Rowan. It feels like something awful’s going to happen. Well, it has already – to Faye, the podcaster. And she was only involved on the periphery. I’m right in the middle of it all.’

‘Again, I need to ask you, what do you need from me?’

‘I need you to take me back as a patient. I didn’t realise how much I’d come to depend on our Friday sessions. You helped me rebuild my life, and now it’s crumbling and I need to get it back.’

‘Kate. You just said you’d be happy to move on to a new therapist. And you can get your life back. You did it before and that was without me – you’ve done all the hard work yourself.’

‘Please reconsider, Rowan.’

‘Kate, I’m sorry, but I can’t. It’s not possible.’

‘Please. You need to reconsider, Rowan.’ Kate says, feeling her cheeks flame. She’d been so certain that Rowan would change his mind.

They both turn around at the sound of a gentle cough to see Rowan’s wife standing in the doorway, smiling.

‘I’m sorry,’ she says. ‘I thought you’d finished with your patients for the day.’

‘I have,’ Rowan says, standing ‘Kate is an ex-patient who just came in to update me on how she’s doing. Kate, this is my wife, Daniella.’ He turns back to his wife. ‘I thought we were meeting at the theatre?’

‘Thought I’d surprise you. Tear you away from your paperwork.’ Rowan’s wife wanders towards him and kisses him. ‘But I can wait in reception if you need to finish your chat.’

Kate stands, pulling on her coat. ‘No, it’s fine. I was just leaving.’

Daniella Hess smiles. ‘Oh, please don’t let me interrupt if you haven’t finished.’

‘Oh, we’re finished,’ Rowan says, before Kate can respond.

Kate heads to the door. ‘I’ll see you at my usual appointment time on Friday,’ she says, walking out and closing the door.

Thomas is quiet this evening as they eat the pizza Kate hastily threw in the oven. She knows the cause of his silence – he was confused and disappointed when she’d changed the plan for this evening without warning and turned up at Ellis’s to collect him

‘I know you’re confused about me picking you up from Dad’s when you were meant to be staying with him,’ she says. ‘But…my plans changed and I didn’t need his help after all. And I think it’s better if you stay here on school nights. We’re a lot closer to school.’

The truth is, after her visit with Rowan being cut short, she couldn’t bear the thought of being away from Thomas, of him being with Ellis any more than necessary, so she’d rushed straight round there to take Thomas home.

‘It’s weird, Mum,’ Thomas says. ‘You’ve never done this stuff before. And now you’re picking me up early from playdates and from Dad’s.’ He pulls red pepper off his pizza. ‘Are you angry with Dad again?’

‘No, sweetheart. I’m not.’

Thomas scrunches his face; Kate knows he doesn’t believe her.

‘Will you just trust me?’ she says. ‘I want the best for you. Always.’

He nods, picking up a slice of pizza. And for the rest of the evening, he barely says another word.

Sometime in the night, Kate wakes with a start. Instinctively she knows something is wrong. Her body feels way too hot. Then everything comes into focus: the crackling sounds, the smoke drifting in beneath the door.

‘Thomas!’ she screams.