Anything for Her (18 page)

The night is as black as coal behind the falling snow. They are the only two on the road. Robbie has never felt so lonely and overburdened with responsibility in her entire life.

The lights on the dashboard cut out suddenly, and the music that was playing lightly on the radio comes to an abrupt end. The headlights vanish; the only light comes from the moon reflecting off the snow on the ground. The car slows without permission, rolling along the ice and snow like a slowing, injured animal.

‘Shit.’

She steers the unresponsive car to the side of the road where it eventually rolls to a stop at the edge of a bend. The car’s engine is silent and nothing moves but the falling snow and the whistling wind.

‘What’s happening, Mummy?’ Jamie signs.

‘The car has broken down,’ she signs, pulling up the handbrake. ‘I’ll have to call a recovery truck.’

The idea of riding in a truck appears to make him happy, but he keeps his elation to himself.

Robbie gets out of the car.

The night is silent. Snow falls – more lightly now – onto her coat and hair. She walks around to the bonnet, crunching the snow beneath her feet, darting her head left to right with wide, alarmed eyes. She tries to lift the bonnet, but it’s jammed.

‘Shit!’

She looks up and down the white, barren road; it’s silent except for the sound of branches rustling in the wind.

She gets back inside the car and searches the glove compartment for details of her breakdown recovery service. She dials the number and speaks to the operator on the other end of the line. Her jaw drops when he tells her how long it will take for the recovery truck to arrive.

‘Three hours? A woman and a young child are stranded in the middle of the night – in dangerous conditions – and the best you can do is three hours?’

Jamie reads his mother’s lips in the rear-view mirror as she talks on the phone. She doesn’t look happy.

‘Isn’t there any way someone can come out sooner?’

Jamie waits patiently.

‘But it’s freezing!’ she exclaims.

He sits in silence, waiting to read his mother’s lips
again, unable to find an answer in her wide, worried eyes.

‘Can’t the police tow us or something? There has to be someone who can help us.’

Jamie looks out of the window at the snow falling lightly from the sky to the ground. He looks sleepy.

‘Well, it will have to do, won’t it?’ Robbie says down the phone. ‘It’s not as if we’re going anywhere.’

She hangs up and sighs deeply.

This is just our luck
.

She considers calling her father, but both of her parents drank heavily at the party. They had such fun; she can’t ruin their night. She can’t ask her father to come out and risk his license or his life.

It would only upset him. They will probably be asleep by now, anyway
.

‘What’s wrong, Mummy?’ Jamie signs with his gloved hands, confusion etched onto his sweet, angelic face.

‘The truck can’t come and get us for three hours yet, Jamie,’ she signs, turning to face him.

‘Why not?’

‘All the trucks in the area are being used to help other people. It’s all the snow. It takes longer to get places in weather like this.’

‘Can’t we fix it?’

‘No, darling. The car has run out of power. We need someone to help give it some more.’

‘I have batteries in my teddy bear. Will they help?’

‘We need bigger batteries for the car. But thanks for offering, sweetheart.’

‘I’m cold, Mummy.’

Robbie tries the heater, hopeful that somehow it will magically begin to work again. She feels disappointed when it doesn’t.

The snow begins to fall heavily again, littering the dark sky with white spots.

‘What do we do now?’ Jamie signs, his breath escaping in clouds.

‘We wait,’ she replies. ‘We wait until someone comes for us.’

Chapter Thirty-six

Louise sits in the passenger seat of DI Jessica Dean’s car; its back wheels occasionally slip on the icy road as they race to the second search site to discover what has been found.

Please don’t let it be her body. Please don’t let it be my baby’s body
.

Her chest feels tight, as though her grief no longer permits her to breathe, and her throat is aching from holding back tears.

Every minute of the journey feels like an hour. She can’t get there fast enough.

Have they found more blood? Have they found her body? Could whatever they’ve found belong to someone else? Is this a mistake?

She can’t help but visualise Brooke’s body under a mound of fallen snow, her face frozen mid-scream.

Have they found my daughter’s corpse? Have they found her alive? Have they found a body part? An item of clothing?

‘We’re nearly there, Louise,’ Jessica reassures her, keeping her eyes on the road.

She seems anxious, too.

‘What do you think they’ve found? Do you think it’s her body? Is my daughter really dead?’

Silent tears fall down her cheeks and her fingernails dig into the handle on the car door. She can’t afford to fall apart yet. She has to see what has been found – to see it with her own eyes before she can even begin to let herself unravel.

‘I don’t know what they’ve found,’ she replies, slowing the car as they arrive at their destination and park behind a row of other cars.

Louise jumps out of the car before Jessica has even turned off the engine. She bounds down the snowy hill and across the field towards a large crowd of searchers congregated near the edge of woodland at the bottom.

Her feet crunch and kick up snow as she sprints. The cold air is so fresh it hurts her lungs and reddens the skin on her face. Her scarf slips free from her neck and floats through the air behind her, landing on the snow in a discarded heap.

Jessica is running behind her, trying to pick up enough speed to catch up with the desperate, determined mother.

The group of searchers waits at the bottom, watching Louise race towards the woodland. She runs past them, refusing to digest a single expression or pitying glance, and heads for the entrance to the woodland, where two police officers stand. Police dogs bark excitedly from within the woods. She rushes past the officers, who turn and chase after her.

‘Stop!’ the leading officer shouts. ‘The scene hasn’t been secured!’

‘Ma’am, stop! This is a crime scene!’

Jessica overtakes the officers, calling after Louise.

Louise jumps over snow-covered shrubs and fallen branches on the woodland floor, her heart racing beneath her thick coat.

She reaches a stream and runs alongside it; the unmoving, frozen water has leaves and twigs embedded in its clear surface. She catches sight of policemen and their dogs standing before a turn in the stream. DI Chris Jones spots Louise running towards them and heads towards her.

‘Louise, stop!’ he says, grabbing her shoulders.

‘I have to see!’ she replies.

He tries to block her path. They both scuffle for control. She shoves Jones to the ground with all of her strength and runs towards the backs of the police officers who are looking down at the stream. She pushes her way through and scans the frozen water, expecting to see a face beneath the ice or a hand jutting out from the surface.

Brooke’s suitcase lies under the frozen surface in a yellow blur. Protruding above the surface is its handle, covered in a light dusting of snow, displaying the etched footprints of birds that had recently perched on it.

‘Brooke!’ she cries, tears filling her eyes. ‘Is she
under there? Is my baby under there?’

Police officers hold her arms and shoulders and try to persuade her to leave the scene. She escapes from their strong, grasping hands and pushes herself forward, falling down the sloping, snow-covered earth that leads to the stream. She lands hard on the ice, banging her knees on the surface. An exhausted Jessica arrives, holding Louise’s scarf in her hand. She looks down to see Louise kneeling before the submerged suitcase.

‘She could be under here!’ Louise yells up to Jessica, before returning her gaze to the suitcase. She bangs on the surface of the ice with furious fists. She brushes off the snow from the handle and attempts to pull it free. It won’t budge.

‘Don’t just stand there! Help me!’

The police officers stare down at her with pity.

‘Please – just help me to see if my daughter’s body is under here!’

She looks up at the police officers helplessly, with tears rolling down her cold, red cheeks.

‘Her body could have been put inside! She could be down here! You have to help me! Somebody please help me!’

Her cries echo through the woodland, causing the sniffer dogs to bark with excitement. Nearby volunteers bow their heads and listen to the pleas of a traumatised mother, while startled birds flee from the
tops of the trees.

Chapter Thirty-seven
That Night

The penthouse in Mayfair is large and grand. The caterers repeatedly replenish the buffet and smiling, smartly dressed waiters carry round silver trays with tall champagne flutes balanced on them.

Louise wears a black, backless dress, which reveals her supple, unblemished skin. She laughs and beams, not noticing the admiring glances she receives. Many of the men in the room want her, and many of the women want to be just like her.

The guests are dressed in black tie or expensive gowns, many dripping in diamonds. They mingle, talk business, gossip, drink and pick at the buffet.

Louise stands with a group of guests, listening to idle, mundane chatter and occasionally stealing looks at her husband from across the room. Whenever their eyes meet, they admire each other’s bodies and long to strip each other naked. Michael gestures towards the balcony and nods.

‘Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, I’m just going to check in with my husband,’ Louise says, excusing herself.

She makes her way through the crowd of guests, smiling and acknowledging familiar faces. They meet
at the double doors that lead onto the balcony. Michael opens the door to allow her to saunter through, so that he can admire her body as she goes.

The couple stand against the cold, stone wall at the far end of the balcony, away from prying eyes, and look out over the dimly lit park.

Michael places a cigar between his lips and cups his hand around the lighter to shield its flame from the cold December air.

Louise leans in closer to him and rests against his front. He wraps her inside his blazer and places one hand just above her groin. The light from inside the house throws a warm glow out onto the balcony. He places his lips on her bare neck and kisses the warm skin.

‘I’ve wanted you all night.’

‘You have?’ she asks, looking up at him.

‘Seeing all the men drool over the sight of you and knowing you’re mine is so satisfying. Whenever I look at you, I get hard.’

She touches his erection through his trousers.

‘So you do.’

‘Don’t tease me.’

‘Who said I was teasing?’

The couple look into each other’s eyes for a moment, excitement sparkling in them, as she presses herself against him.

‘Here?’ he asks, looking around to see if anyone
else is nearby.

‘Yes.’

She turns to face him, takes the cigar from his lips and throws it over the balcony. She unzips his trousers and lowers herself to her knees. Michael looks around, nervous and exhilarated.

He exhales deeply with pleasure, his eyes closed; occasionally checking that the coast is still clear before returning his focus to the bliss below. She has always been good at this. She has always known exactly what to do.

Just as he approaches the climax, the sound of the balcony door opening disturbs them. Startled, Louise quickly rises from her knees while Michael fights his throbbing erection back into his trousers.

Two men appear, deep in conversation and head towards the other end of the balcony. The couple look at each other and grin excitedly.

‘I’m not done with you yet,’ he says.

He takes her hand and leads her inside; they both radiate a mischievous, sensual glow. They snake through the crowd and head for the vacant hallway. Hastily, Michael leads her up the spiral staircase and they slip behind the nearest door.

Dominating the room is a large bed, which is covered with coats: a sea of furs and leathers, colours and styles. They throw themselves at each other, kissing passionately as they fall on top of the bed
between the guests’ coats. He lifts up her dress, while kissing her neck. His breath is hot and fast on her skin, smelling of cigar smoke and champagne. She unzips his trousers again and frees his impatient erection.

They kiss hard, with their tongues dancing wet and warm, as he moves her thong to the side and slips into her with a satisfied moan. Groaning with glee, they make love in the room above the party – climaxing on the coats of the guests who are mingling below.

Chapter Thirty-eight

Michael arrives home from work downcast and exhausted. He had escaped to the office to distract himself from his personal life, but was instantly reminded of the dire situation he faces in his professional life. His employees have begun to suspect something is wrong.

Dominic is with his grandparents for the day. Michael enters the dark house, lethargic and longing for a stiff drink. He turns on the light and sees a rose petal between his feet. He spots another, and his eyes follow the trail of petals up the stairs.

Is Louise home? Has she forgiven me?

He leaves his briefcase on the sideboard and follows the petals up the stairs. They are scattered across each landing and further up the stairs, leading him to the double doors of their bedroom. The light from the bedroom illuminates the edges of each door, as though something heavenly awaits him on the other side.

He opens the door and instantly frowns in dismay.

On the bed, surrounded by rose petals and flickering candlelight, wearing black lingerie and holding two glasses of champagne, lies Denise. She looks aroused. He can tell by her glazed eyes that she had
been touching herself before he entered. He used to demand she excite herself before he arrived.