Youre late again, arent you? he snarled jealously the moment the front door opened. I get it now.
Youre late again David barked at me before Id even managed to kick off my boots, soaked through by the endless English sleet. I get it.
Emily froze, one hand white-knuckled around the cold brass of the handle. Inside, the flat was stifling, the air heavy with fried onions and some thick, old bitterness. That smell had clung to everything these last three weekssoaked into the curtains, into her hair, into her skin. She let out a slow breath, trying to keep the trembling from her hands, and turned to face her husband.
David stood framed in the kitchen doorway, arms folded, dressing gown hanging open to reveal a creased West Ham t-shirt. His facefamiliar from twenty yearslooked unfamiliar now, contorted with contempt.
Dave, the buses were stuck she began, her voice muffled, sounding as though it travelled through fog. The snows a nightmare, half the high streets gridlocked
Enough! His hand slammed against the wall, flakes of plaster trickling down as if the flat itself was falling in. Enough of the crap, Emily. Traffic? At this hour? Out of London? Come off it.
He stepped closer, forcing her back against the rack of coats. The wet wool of her overcoat chilled her spine.
I rang your office, you know he said each syllable like a judge. Six fifteen. Security said youd clocked out before five. Where the hell have you been for three and a half hours?
A lump of ice twisted heavier in Emilys stomach. Shed lied beforeharmless white ones to smooth things overbut this was a different breed: hulking, black, always hungry for new fuel.
I I stopped at Boots. Then I popped into Mums, she needs her new prescription
She looked away, pretending to fiddle with her zip. It jammed; her fingers wouldnt obey.
Your mum? David smirked. I spoke to her not thirty minutes ago. She hasnt seen you for a week.
A silence, high and humming, pressed against her temples. Emily straightened. There was no escape. How tired she was, Lordhow very tired. Every evening felt like picking through a minefield; every phone call a fresh panic.
Youve found someone, havent you? Davids voice dropped to a whisper, more frightening for it Some work lad? Or that old uni mate you mentioned last month?
He pressed closer. He reeked of cigaretteshed started up again, even after his fathers heart attack had made him quit for good.
Dave, theres nobody. Please, believe me.
Believe you? He gripped her shoulders, shaking her. Look at yourself! Youve lost a stone, you jump at every noise, your phones locked when it never used to be, and you wont meet my eye. Behaving like some guilty teenager. But you know the real kicker?
Her eyes burned with tears shed been holding back all day.
The worst bit his voice was bitter is youre not even trying to keep this family together. You come home like its a prison sentence. You dont care about me, this house, anything. Youre somewhere else, always thinking of whoever he is.
Thats not true she whispered. I love you. Everything I do, I do for us. For the family.
Cheatings how you look after the family, is it? he spat.
Dont you dare! she cried, her voice unexpectedly sharp. Dont say that! You dont know anything!
At that, the door to the spare room creaked open. Olivers pale, drawn faceat nineteen, as gaunt as a ghostpeeked out, eyes darting, lips bitten bloody.
Mum, Dad please, stop shouting his voice nearly broke.
David spun round:
Off you go! Stay out of this. This is for adults. Or maybe you know what your mum gets up to after hours as well, do you?
Oliver flinched, cast a frightened glance at her, and slammed the door. The latch snapped home.
David turned back to her. The fury in his eyes cooled to a dangerous resolve.
Im giving you one last chance, Emily. Right now. Just tell the truth. Who is he?
Emily closed her eyes. Every night for the past three weeks shed seen the same imagewet tarmac shining, headlights picking out a small figure in a pink jacket. Dull thud. The screech of brakes twisting into the piercing scream of her son, whod burst through their front door that awful night.
Mum, I didnt see her! She ran out! Please, dont tell the policeplease, Ill go to prison, my lifell be over! Dadll never forgive me, hell kill me, Mum, help me!”
And she had saved him. Or at least told herself she had.
Theres no one, Dave she said, opening her eyes and forcing her voice steady. Im just exhausted. Theyre laying people off at work and I didnt dare tell you.
He stared long and hard, then released her shoulders as if letting go of something distasteful.
Youre lying he said simply. You lie, look me dead in the eye and lie. I found the receipt, you know. In your pocket, yesterday, when I went to clean your coat. A pawn shop. You pawned off the gold bracelet I gave you for our anniversary.
Emilys legs nearly failed her. Shed forgotten that blasted receiptin her panic and rush, trying to scrape the latest sum together
Money for your boyfriend, is it? David sneered. Bit of a chancer, is he? Or in debt, and youre playing Lady Bountiful?
Its for medication, she lied, whatever came first. A colleagues ill. Were raising funds
At Cash Convertors? he cut her off. Out, Emily.
What?
Get your things. Out. Go to your mum. A friend. I dont care. I dont want to see you tonight. I need to thinkto decide whether to start divorce proceedings or give you time to own up.
Dave, its the middle of the night she whispered.
Out! he roared. The crockery rattled in the cupboard.
Emily knew it was over. Stay and hed keep pushing, and shed break. Or Oliverlistening, trembling through the wallwould crack first. And everything shed built, all these hellish three weeks, would come tumbling down.
She turned in silence, picked up her handbaginside, yet another envelope, this one thick with todays photographsand, still in her boots, stepped back into the communal hall.
The door shut behind her with an airless, final thud. Alone on the landing, Emilys mobile vibrated. Not from her husband.
“Tomorrows the last day. If the full amount isnt paid, I go to the police. Say hi to your son.
She slid to the floor, clasped her mouth to muffle the sobsso the neighbours wouldnt hearand trembled uncontrollably.
Outside, snow swirled down. She trudged through deserted streets, not really seeing. She couldnt go to MumsDavid would ring. Couldnt risk a friendtoo many questions. Only one place left: the 24-hour café at Clapham Junctionbattered tables, cheap tea, eternal neon.
She ordered tea and sat in the gloomiest corner. On her phone screen, an old holiday photo: the three of them in Majorca, all sunburnt and smiling. Olivers arms round his dad. David gazing at her with such fondness
How quickly it all crumbles.
That night crashed back. Oliver had taken Davids keys”just for a spin with a girl. No licence, only stints learning to drive at his aunts in Kent. David on shift at the hospital. Oliver returned a wreckshaking, blanched, headlight cracked.
Hed sobbed at her feet, swearing it was dark, shed run out from a bus, hed panicked, driven off.
That was the second shed decided. Maternal instinct flooded out everything else: sense, conscience, law. She knew Daviduncompromising, hard-edged, an A&E doctor who lived by the rules. Hed have called the police in a heartbeat, never mind pleas or tears.
Shed hidden the car. Made Oliver swear silence. Next day, shed found the girls father.
William.
Shed tracked him with the help of a friend in the Met, spinning some story about “helping as a witness. A tired housing estate, poverty and grief etched deep into grimy wallpaper. He sat at the kitchen table, swilling whisky and staring at his daughters picture.
Lies didnt last long; she confessed. Told him it was her son, young and stupid, begging him not to destroy Olivers life.
William didnt shout or lash out. He named a price. A kings ransom. “For the gravestone, he said. “So I can leave this place and forget forever. And he wanted Oliver to squirm in fear until every penny arrived.
So now, here in this grotty café, with her bracelet pawned, her coat and laptop sold, bank accounts drained, she understood: it still wasnt enough.
By morning she couldnt go to work. Called in sick. She needed another £2,000 by sundown.
She spent the day in a frantic blur: payday loans; pawning her laptop; borrowing from an old friend, lying about a sudden operation.
By five, she had it: a thick wad of cash in a brown envelope.
She called David; the call rang out. Messaged Oliver: “Itll be alright. Hang in there. Dad wont find out. No reply.
Emily turned up at the decrepit flat; William was waiting, the chaos of moving everywhere, bottle half-empty, hands trembling, sunken eyes.
Well? his voice was croak and gravel.
Yes she placed the envelope on the table. Its all here. As agreed. You withdraw your statement, you leave.
He weighed the cash, and a twisted sort of smile moved his lips.
Think money plugs up a hole in the heart?
I think nothing, Emily barely breathed. I just want to save my son. You promised.
Promised He threw the envelope back at her. Changed my mind.
Emily’s heart stopped.
What do you mean?
Not enough, he stepped toward her, fumes of whisky heavy on his breath. Saw your husband yesterday, nice car, looks like hes got plenty. And you bring me scrapings from pawn shops.
You dont understand! He doesnt know, the cars the only thing of any worth were just getting by!
Then let him find out! William roared. Let him know what sort of filth hes raised! My girls beneath the ground and your brats at home eating his dinner?
Pleaseshe beggedjust give me more time. Ill sell the car, Ill find a way!
No time! he grabbed her wrist Call your husband now, tell him to bring £5,000 or I go to the police!
At that moment, the hall outside thundered with footsteps and the door, which Emily hadnt properly closed, flew wide.
There stood Davidwhite as death, phone in hand, location tracker glowing.
I knew it, he murmured, staring at Emily, at the drunk man clutching her wrist, at the envelope stacked with cash.
How much for a night with my wife, then? Davids voice was almost soothing in its hate.
Emily snatched her hand away.
David, no, its not
Dont speak, he spat, I saw you go in. This hovel. This He shot William a loathing glance, Christ, Emily. I thought you had sense. That itd be a colleague. Maybe your boss. But this?
William burst out laughing, a harsh, hollow noise.
Her lover? he said, throat raw. You think thats why shes here?
Shut it! Emily yelled, lunging at him, trying to cover his mouth. David, please just go, Ill explain at home!
David shook her off.
I want to hear, since Im already here.
William wiped his mouth and looked at David with warped compassion.
Mate, are you blind? Your wife isnt sleeping with me. Shes paying me.
What? David frowned.
Shes buying your peace of mind, William pressed a photo into Davids hand Here. Recognise her?
David stared. His eyes widened.
Thats the girl from the news, three weeks ago. Hit and run at Wandsworth Bridge. Driver disappeared.
Bullseye William sneered. Now ask your holier-than-thou wife who was driving. And whose car.
Silence fell, so thick it hurt the ears. David turned, slowly, to Emily. The shock in his eyes dwarfed mere jealousy.
Emily? The car was in the garage you said the battery was dead, you took the keys
Emily crumpled to the carpet.
Im sorry she keened. It was Oliver. He took the keys, he didnt see her, David, hes our son!
David didnt shout, didnt move. He stood, seeing his wife begging before a broken man, and the man whose misery and spite filled the room.
Davids cheeks paled. He, more than anyone, knew death. But today it had come home, put on his sons face.
Oliver? he said in an unnatural calm My son killed a child?
He didnt kill her Emily sobbed It was an accident!
He drove off William said pitilessly left her bleeding in the road. Ambulance took fifteen minutes. If hed stopped, rung for help she may have survived.
David staggered, gripping the doorframe.
And you knew he asked, voice quiet All this time?
I was protecting him, Emily wept. Im his mum! The police would have locked him up forever, David, hes just a boy! I just wanted it to go away
Go away? David eyed the envelope. A childs life for £2,000?
I took what I could William muttered I just wanted you to suffer. Its not enough. I want him in jail.
David approached, picked up the envelope. Emilys breath stoppedjust for a second she hopedperhaps hed pay, no more questions
He let the cash scatter onto the filthy linoleum between Williams feet.
Keep your blood money his voice was thin I wont buy a conscience.
He turned on his heel, pulled Emily up from the floor.
Get up. We’re going home.
David, please she stumbled, but he dragged her on.
Shut it. Not a word on the way home, or trust me, I cant be responsible for what Ill say.
They walked out beneath Williams dead-eyed stare.
The drive was bleak and silent. Davids hands gripped the wheel like he might snap it. Emily shrank into the seat, hardly breathing.
Back at the flat, Oliver was at the kitchen table, untouched tea before him. He stood abruptly, chair clattering.
Dad? Mum? Did you sort things out?
David approached the boy, who, for all his height, looked childlike and diminished.
Get your coat said David.
Where are we going? Olivers gaze darted to his mother, who was helpless, sobbing in the doorway.
To the police David said simply.
Olivers legs seemed to dissolve, he collapsed into a heap.
Dad, no! Mum sorted it! Dad, I cant! Mum said
Mum sorted it? David let out a bitter laugh. She bought you a one-way ticket to hell, son. You eat and sleep while knowing you killed a girl?
I dont sleep! Oliver wailed. I see her every night! Dad, I am so scared.
Scared? David seized him, lifting him off the floor Was she not scared, dying alone in the road? Wasn’t her father scared, living in a flat with only her photo left?
David, stop! Emily pleaded, rushing to them.
Hes not a boy anymore! David roared, pushing her away Hes a grown man, hiding behind his mothers skirts! And you he looked at her, the pain stark in his face you didnt betray me by sleeping with someone. You did it by making me a foolthinking I couldnt handle the truth. That our familys honour was worth two grand.
I was scared youd turn him in! She couldnt help it.
I would have he nodded. And stood by him. Wed have gotten a solicitor, paid compensation by the book. Wed have held our heads up. Now what? Now were cowards and killers.
Oliver slid to the floor, sobbing.
David squatted beside him.
Oliver, look at me.
His son raised swollen, weary eyes.
If we dont go now Davids tone soft youll never be free. This fear will eat you alive. Want to spend your life jumping at every knock, every siren?
Oliver shook his head.
I cant do it anymore, Dad.
So come on. Ill go with you. I wont leave you. But you have to face this.
Oliver clambered up, wiped his eyes. For the first time in three weeks, there was a flicker of resolve in his fear.
Lets go he said.
David nodded and looked to Emily.
Youre staying here.
I want to come! she pleaded, grabbing her coat.
No he blocked her. Youve done enough. You tried to save his soul by buying it. Its my turn to really try.
Will you ever forgive me? she asked in a whisper, knowing the answer would break her.
He gazed at her a long moment, memorising with slow tenderness the face hed loved half his life.
Id forgive an affair, Emily. People are weak. But this Three weeks you let me eat myself alive with jealousy and said nothing, just to save yourself.
He opened the door, ushering Oliver ahead.
I dont know how to live with you now. I dont know if I can ever trust you again.
The door thudded shut.
She was alone in the hollow flat, silence surging in her ears. A pawn shop receipt, dropped from Davids coat, lay skidding across the peppered floor tiles.
Emily went to the window. Below, in the cone of a lamppost, two figuresone tall and broad, the other hunchedwalked to the car. Not holding hands, but side by side.
She pressed her forehead to the cold pane. The truth had surfaced, as shed always feared. Worse than any suspicion David could have conjured up. It hadnt just wrecked their pastit shattered any hope for the future. And yet, out there, a father and son walked to fight for at least a shred of honest present.
Emily sank to the ground and, for the first time in three weeks, wept not with fear, but with the knowledge of what could never be mended. The sentence had already been passed here, in their hallway, and it was final.
*
If I learned anything that night, it was this: sometimes the truth may destroy what you cherish, but living without it destroys you just the sameonly slower. I wished I hadnt discovered that too late.
