“I’mfine.How are you?” Her tone was withering and she was amused to see that she had hurt him.
“I’m trying to be nice, Summer.”
“Go to hell.”
She had wanted to sound angry, but her voice wobbled slightly. She cursed herself for her weakness.
“Well, aren’t you going to say something?” she continued, eyeballing him.
He looked at her for a long time, saying nothing in response. Then with a small shake of the head, he rose and walked back to the door.
“Don’t go.”
Ruby found herself rising, the thought of being alone suddenly too much for her to bear.
He paused at the door to look over his shoulder. “You brought this on yourself, Summer.”
Then without another word he left, slamming the door behind him. The first bolt was pushed firmly into place. Then the next. Each one seemed to go right through Ruby.
“Please. I didn’t mean it. Please stay.”
Ruby could hear him walk away. Then the dull sound of another door closing in the near distance.
“Please,” she moaned.
But there was no one to hear her now. And Ruby knew as she lay there that it wasshewho was in hell, not he. With him, she was scared and uncertain; without him she was desolate. Like it or loathe it, there was no escaping the fact that he was her world now.
44
Charlie drummed her fingers on the table, shooting nervous looks at the entrance. Steven often passed by this way on his way to work. If he happened to spot her holed up in a coffee shop with Helen, when she’d explicitly told him she was meeting her mum, she would have some explaining to do.
According to Steve, their life was now back on track following past traumas. The right decisions had been made, with the right results, and now a long and happy life lay ahead of them. Was it just fear—of the birth, of what followed after—that made Charlie uncertain? Or was it that she was a worker at heart, someone with a vocation that could not easily be discarded?
She had been surprised—and excited—by Helen’s text. It read simply:
Can you meet this morning? Urgent and discreet if you can.
With surprising ease, she found herself lying to Steve, slipping on her coat and heading out the door. Did she really miss police work so much that she would drop everything and deceive her husband because of a brief text? Suddenly Charlie felt a pang of guilt, but before her misgivings could take hold, she saw Helen hurrying toward her.
“I’m sorry I’m late. Blame Harwood.”
“I usually do,” Charlie said, their shared antipathy for their station chief drawing a smile from her boss.
“And I’m sorry to be so secretive, but what I’m about to ask you to do breaks all the rules and could land you and me in a serious amount of trouble.”
“Sounds fun,” Charlie said gamely, but was already a little unnerved by Helen’s manner.
“If you want to say no—and you probably should—then that’s totally fine. But there’s no one else I can confide in.”
It had been a long time since Charlie saw Helen like this. There was clearly a lot resting on this meeting. Helen didn’t keep her guessing, filling her in on her recent “discovery” of her missing nephew and her subsequent clash with Harwood about her refusal to formally request the unredacted file. Charlie could already see where this was going.
“I know it’s a lot to ask, but I don’t have any meaningful contacts in the Northamptonshire force, no one I can trust at least. I know this is completely irregular, but—”
Helen’s voice wavered slightly as she spoke, so Charlie put her out of her misery:
“It’s okay, Helen. I know what you’re asking.”
Charlie’s oldest friend from police college had just taken a high-profile desk job with Northamptonshire Police. DS Sally Mason wasthe keeper of the administrative gates up there—if anyone could lay their hands on the unredacted material, she could. But Charlie had no idea how she would react to such an outrageous request.
