Scare Me To Death, CJ Carver [nice books to read .txt] 📗

He went down like a stone.

His hands were fastened behind his back. His ankles trussed. Only then did the blow come. It seemed to take the skull off his shoulders. As he sank into unconsciousness, he thought he heard someone saying anxiously, ‘Is everything all right?’ The person from the house, no doubt. Too late, he thought. I’ll be long gone by the time you put two and two together.

51

When Lucy reached Southwark it was past ten and she was soaking wet. It had been chucking down as she’d exited the tube and as she walked up her mother’s little front path she was glad lights were on, indicating Mum was still up and that the heating would probably be going flat out. She was frozen.

‘Hi, Mum,’ she called out.

‘Hi, love. I’m in the living room.’

‘I’ll be with you in a minute.’

Dumping her handbag on the kitchen table Lucy went to the fridge, pulled out a bottle of wine. Poured herself a large glass. She downed half of it before she trotted upstairs and dried her hair, changed into a pair of sweatpants and fleecy top.

Downstairs, she joined her mother in front of the TV.

‘Hi, lovely.’ Her mother raised her face for a kiss.

‘Hi.’

Lucy settled on the sofa to see that Newsnight had two experts talking about aerotoxicity. BreatheZero was even mentioned, reminding her of what Amina Amari had said.

We can’t make masks fast enough… Business is booming.

‘How’s things?’ her mother asked. ‘Are you any nearer knowing who killed that poor woman?’

But Lucy didn’t want to talk about Kaitlyn or Ricky. Instead, she downed another slug of wine. ‘I saw Dad today.’

Her mother stilled.

‘He was looking really smart. Suit, tie, shiny shoes.’

Lucy glugged some more wine. Cleared her throat. ‘He told me…’ She took a breath, exhaled. ‘That he was undercover when you got married.’

Her mother closed her eyes. ‘What else?’

‘That Davies isn’t my real name.’

‘Yes, it is.’ Her mother was stout.

‘You know what I mean,’ Lucy said wearily.

Both of them fell silent.

‘Do you know his real name?’ Lucy asked.

At that, her mother turned to meet her gaze. Her expression was sad. ‘No. He never told me.’

‘Oh, Mum.’ She leaned her head back. ‘I can’t imagine what it must have been like. I spoke to someone in Special Branch who said only three people know the truth about Dad. Now, I’m the fourth.’

At that, her mother’s eyes widened. ‘You spoke to Geoff?’

‘Yes.’

‘He was best man at our wedding.’

‘Really?’ Lucy sat upright.

‘He and your dad met at cadet training. They spent two years in uniform before they joined Special Branch. Tight as ticks they were. But of course I didn’t know any of this. I just thought your dad and Geoff went to school together. That your dad was a salesman and Geoff a lorry driver. I met your dad at a protest march. I really believed he cared about racism but it was all a sham. He was spying on us, giving the police information on us all the time. He said he was preventing riots, averting unrest and violence in London – what a load of bollocks.’

She was breathing deeply, trying to keep control. Lucy kept quiet.

‘Can you…’ Her mother swallowed audibly. ‘Can you understand why I threw him out?’

‘Yes.’ Lucy reached over and took her mother’s hand. Gave it a squeeze. ‘It must have been horrible. Not just a shock but the betrayal. How did you find out?’

‘He told me.’ Her mother gave a strangled laugh. ‘Can you imagine it? He actually thought I’d forgive him, forgive him for spying on me and my friends, swallow all his lies, and carry on as though nothing had happened. He was unbelievable.’ Her face flushed at the memory. ‘He thought love would conquer all but nothing could be further from the truth. He was a stinking, rotten liar. I hated him.’

Lucy squeezed her hand again. ‘Why did he tell you? Why didn’t he just keep on lying?’

‘He would never have come clean if he hadn’t been forced to.’

‘Forced, how?’

Her mother’s hazel eyes rested on her reflectively. Gradually, the pink in her cheeks lessened. Her voice was quiet when she spoke.

‘I think you should ask him that yourself.’

‘I will,’ Lucy promised. She closed her eyes. ‘What about his family? He always said he was abandoned as a baby and fostered all through his childhood. Does this mean I have grandparents? Aunts and uncles?’

‘Darling, I have no idea. He refused to tell me.’

‘How awful,’ Lucy said but inside she was saying, What a complete shit. Didn’t he trust Mum?

‘I went mad.’

‘I’m not surprised.’ Lucy wriggled across the sofa and hugged her mother. ‘I’m sorry I was so unforgiving about it. But I didn’t understand. I wish you’d told me.’

‘He did some terrible things. I didn’t want you to know.’

‘What terrible things?’

Her mother was silent.

‘Mum?’

‘It’s for him to tell you. Not me.’

They didn’t say much after that. Lucy knew they’d talk more about it, but for now they were at peace. When Lucy went to bed, she slept as though felled. No sleep, no dreams. And when she awoke, the first thing she did was ring her father.

‘If you don’t bring Amina Amari in by midday today,’ she told him, ‘I’m going to my SIO.’

52

Dan was woken by someone telling him to sodding well wake up. He opened his eyes and his brain exploded into pain. He lay still as a kaleidoscope of colours trembled across his vision. He listened for a voice, any sign someone was with him, but all he heard was his own rapid breathing.

He tried to take stock of himself. His feet were ice-cold and he was aware of the sweet smell of engine oil. He instinctively tried to raise his hand to check his head but his hands were behind him, locked together. So were his feet. That was why they were cold. He looked down at his body to see his knees were tucked against his chest. Instinctively he tried to stretch out his