Хилари Боннер - A Deep Deceit

Will’s red-rimmed eyes burned into me. My legs felt like jelly.

‘I thought Carl had sent the letters, done it all, I really believed that.’ I was thinking aloud really.

Will leered at me. ‘Carl?’ he repeated wonderingly. ‘That was a bonus for me, wasn’t it? I never expected that.’

I wanted to hit him, but I didn’t have the courage. I couldn’t believe that this evil, poisonous side of Will had been lurking all this time and neither Carl nor I had seen it. But, of course, we had rarely seen anything much except each other.

Then Will stood up and I became disconcertingly aware of how big he was. We were quite alone and the walls of Rose Cottage were three and a half feet thick. Carl and I had never heard the neighbours, nor they us as far as I knew. I began to wonder what Will had really come to the cottage for. It was hard to believe that he would have confessed all this on the spur of the moment. Could he be that uncontrolled? What was he intending to do now?

He began to speak again. ‘I could have given you so much more than he ever did, you know, in every way...’

I didn’t want to hear any more. I just wanted the man out of my house. ‘You’d better go, Will,’ I said, struggling to stay calm.

‘Really? Yes, and every time before I’ve always gone, haven’t I? Meekly left you and that pretentious American bastard alone whenever you wanted me to. Or that’s what you thought, wasn’t it?’

He took a menacing step towards me. I began to think that I might be in real danger.

‘I’ve stood outside, you know, late at night, listening to you having sex. Listening to your cries, Suzanne.’

I cringed, feeling slightly sick. Was it true, I wondered? It could have been. Carl and I had almost always slept with the window open a little. We’d never given it a thought. I shuddered involuntarily.

‘C’mon, why don’t you give me just one chance,’ he said. ‘Let me have you. Let me give it to you, show you what it can really be like. Were you crying out because you were satisfied, Suzanne, or because you needed more? I doubt that pathetic bastard ever fucked you properly, did he? I doubt he had it in him...’

My instinct was to cower away from him. That had always been my instinct when faced with a threat. But not this time. Instead of taking a step backwards I made myself take a step forward towards Will. He towered over me. I refused to allow myself to be daunted. ‘Will, I despise you,’ I told him. ‘The only way you are ever going to have me is to rape me. Is that what you want? Is that what you are, as well as everything else, a rapist?’

Something flickered across his eyes.

He reached out with one hand, thrust it between my legs and pushed hard upwards, so hard that it hurt, which was no doubt his intention.

I tried not to flinch.

For what seemed like for ever he stood in front of me staring at me, his hand thrust against my crutch, his long bony fingers digging into me. I returned his stare as levelly as I could.

Eventually and abruptly he removed his hand and spoke. ‘You’re not worth it, are you? I’ve come almost to hate you, you know. That’s what happens if you keep rejecting someone.’

He stepped back. ‘Carl murdered his daughter, he kidnapped and drugged you, Suzanne,’ he said calmly enough. ‘You can’t still feel anything for him, surely?’

He didn’t wait for a reply. He turned on his heel, ran down the stairs and left the cottage through the front door.

I felt sick. I half fell on to the sofa bed, put my head in my hands and wept.

I remained crouched on the edge of the sofa bed, crying, for several minutes after Will had gone. Then very suddenly I realised what I must do next. I had to see Carl. I had to tell him what Will had been doing to us. Will’s confession changed so much. Carl had not been responsible for any of the threats, not sent the letters. And, just maybe, neither had he deliberately deceived me all those years about the way Robert had died. I had to tell Carl that I had done him a big injustice. This time I had to get to the bottom of it all.

I jumped to my feet, grabbed my coat, shoved all my money in my pocket and headed down to the town. I stopped at the first call box on the way to phone Penzance police station and for once got almost straight through to the police officer I wanted to speak to. ‘I want to see my husband,’ I told DC Carter. ‘Can you arrange it for me?’

‘No problem,’ he replied. ‘He’s on remand and you can visit more or less when you like, we’ve already told you that. When do you want to go?’

‘Today – as soon as I can.’ I planned to catch the next train out of St Ives and then pick up the first available Intercity Service at either St Erth or Penzance.

‘Ah, that is a problem,’ said Carter. ‘He’s due to appear at the Magistrates Court in Penzance this afternoon. It’s his committal...’

‘Penzance!’ Just half an hour or so’s journey by train. Maybe I didn’t need to travel all the way to Exeter after all. ‘I’ll come to Penzance, then...’

‘Whoa,’ said DC Carter. ‘Hang on a minute. He’s only being brought in for committal proceedings. It’s a formality. He won’t be allowed visitors here. Then straight back to Exeter. You won’t be able to see him.’

I wasn’t really listening. If Carl was going to be in Penzance later that day then so was I. I barely said goodbye to DC Carter, who was still chuntering away at the other end of the line when I hung up. I ran most of the way to the little station out at Porthminster Beach. I wasn’t sure of the train times and was terrified of just missing one, and then maybe just missing Carl.

In the end I had to wait half an hour for the next train. It was a very lovely day and the first part of the track runs right along the coast but I was too distracted to admire the beauty of the Cornish countryside. By the time I got to Penzance I could hardly contain myself. It wasn’t far from the station to St John’s Hall, the old Victorian building opposite the police station which I knew housed Penwith Magistrates Court, but this time I didn’t walk. I felt as if I couldn’t afford to waste a minute so, my financial considerations of earlier that day now paling into insignificance, I took a taxi.

As soon as I came close to St John’s Hall I realised something was amiss. There seemed to be police everywhere. The traffic slowed to a halt, and I jumped out of the cab and paid off the driver. A patrol car, lights flashing, and siren in full song, came out of the police station yard so fast as I crossed the road towards the court that I only narrowly avoided being run over.

Both the entrances to St John’s Hall, which had once been home to Penzance Assizes and the old hanging judges, were cordoned off and uniformed constables stood on sentry duty.

I kept walking, desperate to see Carl and trying to look as if I was in some way involved in official business, even though I hardly looked the part in my jeans and sweater. I had no success. I was stopped at once by one of the policemen sentries. ‘I am afraid you can’t go in, madam,’ he said.

‘I have to,’ was all I could manage.

‘Sorry, madam,’ replied the officer in tones that brooked no dissent. ‘We have an escaped prisoner situation and nobody is allowed to enter or leave the vicinity.’

‘But I have to see my husband,’ I insisted, hardly hearing what he was saying, just aware that he was preventing me from fulfilling my purpose.

I half tried to push past him.

He put a restraining hand on my arm and positioned himself more solidly in front of me.

‘Well, you can’t go in there to see him, that’s for certain. Who is your husband anyway?’