M. Arlidge - Pop Goes the Weasel

‘Have you told anyone else? Anyone who might know her, who might have a big mouth?’

‘No, why on earth would I do that? What happens is between us and no one else, you know that.’

Helen stared at the floor. Suddenly the weight of the day’s events caught up with her and she started to cry. Furious with herself, she kept her head bowed, refusing to show her weakness, but her shoulders started to shake. Things had gone so horribly, horribly wrong and most of it was down to her own weakness and stupidity. Was she always destined to be on the losing side?

Jake crossed the room and enveloped her in a warm hug. It felt good. Some people despised her, others questioned her, still others thought she was odd. But Jake had never judged her, had always cared for her, despite the unusual nature of their relationship. Helen had been starved of unconditional love all her life, but she realized in that moment that this was what Jake wanted to give her.

She had always kept him at a distance, even when he’d signalled his desire to get closer to her. Which is why it surprised him as much as Helen when she finally looked up and said:

‘Stay.’

Sunlight flooded through the thin curtains. Charlie felt the warmth of the new day on her face and slowly opened her eyes. Memories, thoughts and feelings swirled round her fuzzy head, then suddenly she turned over, anxious to see if she’d dreamed it or not. But Steve wasn’t there – he hadn’t come home last night. It was no dream.

Charlie had tried ringing him repeatedly but it had gone straight to voicemail. Was he ok? Had something happened to him? She was sure Steve wouldn’t have left her. His stuff was all here and, besides, he was a bigger man than that. He would never walk out without an explanation.

So where was he? And why hadn’t he come home? After he had issued his ultimatum, Charlie had asked for time to think. She desperately wanted them to be together, to be a happy family, but to give up her career, give up everything she’d fought to achieve, was a huge sacrifice. But would any of it be worth it without Steve by her side? This was a circle Charlie couldn’t square.

Perhaps she’d never understood the depth of his grief over the baby they’d lost. Steve had had a name in mind for it if it was a boy. He had teased her with that when she was first pregnant, refusing to let her in on the secret. He had never mentioned it subsequently, despite Charlie’s attempts to get him to talk about it. After a while she’d stopped asking and because he was so solid, so self-contained, perhaps she had underestimated the effect it had had on him.

Steve was so insistent. So determined that she should do something else. Something safe that would allow them to start a family together. He had swallowed enough anger, enough anxiety, enough fear. Now it was up to Charlie to decide what life she wanted.

Except Charlie didn’t know. Couldn’t decide. The only thing she did know for sure was that she hated being alone in this big house.

He was under siege. They had had to disconnect the doorbell and pull out the phones in the end, but still the barrage of enquiries didn’t stop. Journalists shouted through the letterbox, banged on the doors and the windows, asking for comments, for a photo opportunity. They were remorseless, merciless.

Robert had taken refuge with his parents, Monica and Adam, in their bedroom upstairs. They’d sat on the bed together, trying to block out the sound of the commotion outside by cranking up the radio. No one had really known what to say at first, too shocked to process the day’s events, but finally Robert found his voice.

‘Did you know?’

His first question had been tinged with bitterness and anger. Monica nodded, but was crying too much to speak, so Adam falteringly told Robert what he needed to know. His parents had known who his mother was when they’d adopted him, but they’d never wanted to know the details of her crimes, fearing that their horror would seep into their relationship with their cherished child. As far as they were concerned, the child was innocent. The slate was wiped clean and by good fortune and the Grace of God both he and they had been given an amazing opportunity. They had always referred to him as ‘their little blessing’.

Robert didn’t feel like a blessing now. After a couple of hours of fraught, painful discussion, Robert had retired to his bedroom, needing to be alone. He had lain on his bed, his iPod turned up to the max, trying to block out the hysteria of his life. But he couldn’t, and hadn’t slept either, so he’d just spent the time staring at the clock making its slow progress through the night.

Had Helen done this to him? He’d worked out who Helen really was even before Emilia Garanita told him. He’d shrugged Emilia off when she’d collared him at the convenience store, but not before she’d laid out the basics. Helen was his aunt, his mother was a serial killer. As far as he could see, Helen had tried to protect him… but still she was the only person who knew his real identity. The only one who had a personal interest in him. Had she brought the walls crashing down on him?

His iPod lay discarded on the floor now and he could hear his parents arguing. They didn’t deserve this either. What did it mean for their family now? They had loved him unconditionally for all of their time together, but they hadn’t signed up for this. They were an ordinary, nice couple who’d never done a thing wrong in their lives.

He stole a glimpse out of the window and his heart sank. There were even more journalists out there than there had been before. They were under siege now. And there would be no escape.

Helen left the flat promptly, but the roads were already clogged with traffic and her ride to the police mortuary took twice as long as usual. She cursed herself for not leaving earlier, but she had been thrown by waking up next to Jake. It had been so long since that had happened – she always went to his place, never to hers – that she’d been unsure of the etiquette. As it was, she allowed him a shower and breakfast, then asked him to leave. Oddly, that didn’t feel awkward and their parting was friendly, even fond. They had talked into the small hours and then Helen had fallen asleep – waking fully clothed but refreshed several hours later. She wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, but she knew that she didn’t regret it.

On her ride to the police mortuary, Helen’s thoughts turned once more to Robert. Should she attempt to contact him? Parking up, she pulled out her phone and swiftly typed a message. Her finger hovered over the button – would he want to hear from her? What could she possibly say? What if her message fell into the wrong hands or was hacked? Emilia would certainly stoop to those levels if she felt she could get away with it.

But she couldn’t just say nothing. Couldn’t leave Robert to face this alone. So she’d written a short text saying how sorry she was, how he should sit tight whilst she got local uniform to move the press on and asking him to text her to let her know how he was. It was inadequate, grossly so in the circumstances, but what else could she say? Blasted by the cold wind ripping through the deserted mortuary car park, Helen hesitated once more, then pressed SEND. She hoped with all her heart that it would make a difference, however small.