Читать книгу The Escape: The gripping, twisty thriller from the #1 bestseller - C.L. Taylor, C.L. Taylor, C. L. Taylor - Страница 13

When his phone rings at 6.35 p.m. Max snatches it up and presses the call answer button. For over half an hour he’s been pacing the room as call after call all ended in the same way – ‘No, I haven’t seen Jo all day,’ ‘No, I haven’t heard from her’ and ‘I hope she’s OK. Let me know.’

He gives Elise a reassuring smile as he presses the phone to his ear but she’s too busy to notice. She’s playing on the double bed with a plastic doll he found in her nursery bag.

‘Jo?’ He keeps his voice low, so as not to worry his daughter. ‘Jo, are you there?’

‘Where’s Elise? Is she with you?’ He can hear the fear in his wife’s voice.

‘Yes. Where the hell are you?’

His wife sighs with relief then promptly bursts into tears. ‘Oh my God,’ she cries between sobs. ‘Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.’

Max stands up and carries the phone into the bathroom. He can still see Elise through the open door but she’s nearly out of earshot now. ‘Jo, can you tell me where you are?’

‘I’m … at home.’

‘Are you OK?’

‘Yes.’ He hears her take a deep breath. It’s punctuated by short sharp sobs but she’s calming down.

‘What happened?’

There is silence apart from a sniff followed by a soft hoo-hoo sound as his wife breathes in through her nose and out through her mouth.

‘Jo, what happened?’ Max asks again.

‘I woke up and it was dark. I overslept. I came back from work earlier because my back was hurting and I fell asleep on the sofa. Oh God. I feel so—’

‘You were asleep?’ He’d seen her calls flash up on his screen earlier in the day but he’d ignored them. He was in court, covering a domestic battery case, and it wasn’t until he was back in the office and the nursery rang that he realised something was wrong. He’d tried to ring Jo and, when she didn’t answer her phone, he started to worry. Had something happened at work or was she marooned somewhere, caught in the grip of a panic attack? Then he remembered what she’d told him about Paula.

‘You were asleep?’ he says again, unable to keep the incredulity out of his voice. ‘Jo, we went back to the house but it was locked from the inside. I banged on the door and shouted through the letter box. Didn’t you hear me?’

‘No.’ Her voice quavers. ‘I didn’t hear a thing.’

‘I’ve been ringing all your friends. I was going to call the police.’

‘Oh God. I’m sorry. Where are you? Can you bring Elise home? I need to see her.’

‘I …’ Max pauses. He can’t dismiss the niggling thought at the back of his brain. ‘I made a lot of noise, Jo. I banged and banged. No one could have slept through that.’

‘That’s because I … I took something.’

His grip on the phone tightens. ‘What?’

‘Some muscle relaxants my mum gave me. They were Dad’s. I was in so much pain, Max, and the doctor wouldn’t see me.’

‘You took prescription drugs meant for a man who’s dying from motor neurone disease? Are you mad?’

‘I was desperate! I was in pain. You have no idea—’

‘No, Jo. You have no idea. Did Sharon tell you that Elise wet herself when no one came to pick her up?’

‘No. I—’

‘Or that she had to put her in another child’s knickers because you forgot to take her bag in this morning? And she was filthy, Jo. Her top was dirty, her hair hadn’t been brushed—’

‘Please, Max. Don’t make me feel worse than I already do. I could barely move this morning but I still got Elise ready the best I could. I didn’t mean to forget her. I didn’t do it on purpose!’

Jo continues to try and explain herself but Max has stopped listening. He’s thinking about his dad. He was twelve the first time he found him passed out on the sofa. He’d just got in from school and there was a strange, bittersweet, almost vinegary scent in the air when he opened the front door. He found the tinfoil, sticky with brown liquid, on the bathroom floor.

‘Have you done it before?’ he asks.

‘What?’

‘Taken drugs. At home?’

‘Are you serious?’

‘I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t.’

Over the last couple of months Jo’s behaviour has become increasingly erratic. He’d put it down to her agoraphobia and mental health. No, she’d put it down to that. Neither of them could pinpoint why she was getting worse instead of better. Unless she was self-medicating …

His wife sighs. ‘I can’t believe you’re even asking me that.’

‘Sharon said you seemed out of it when you picked up Elise the other day.’

‘That was after Paula threatened me! Jesus, Max. Would you listen to yourself? You’re being ridiculous. Just bring Elise home.’

‘She also said you deliberately dropped Elise when she was a baby.’

‘I was breastfeeding and she bit me! I didn’t do it on purpose. Jesus, Max. Why are we even having this conversation? Just bring Elise home or I–I’ll—’

‘Do what? Take her to Chester? Make sure I never see her again?’ Max is shaking with anger. Jo didn’t see the state their daughter was in when he turned up to collect her. The nursery staff had done the best they could to keep her occupied but her eyes were red and puffy, her cheeks tear-stained. As if she hadn’t been through enough – being kept indoors all the time when other little kids were laughing and playing in the sunshine. He’d done his best to understand what Jo was going through. He’d supported her, he’d listened to her, he’d put his own needs last, telling himself that all Jo needed was a bit of time. But she was turning into someone he didn’t recognise.

‘Max, don’t. I said I was sorry about that. I sent you a text and—’

‘Have you got any idea how worried I’ve been, Jo? I thought that Paula had hurt you. Have you rung the police yet?’

Jo pauses for a beat. ‘No.’

There’s something about the hesitation in her voice as she says the word ‘no’ that makes Max frown.

‘Why the hell not? Last night you had a go at me because I wasn’t taking you seriously and now …’ he sighs. ‘We’re going round in circles here. Look, we’re in the Holiday Inn and Elise is fine. She can sleep here with me tonight and I’ll take her to nursery in the morning. If you pick her up after work we can talk more then. OK?’

‘I … I don’t know. I really want to see her, Max.’

‘She’s fine. Honestly.’ He watches as his daughter clambers off the bed and toddles towards him, arms reaching for a hug, a huge smile on her face. ‘I’m sorry for going off the deep end but I was worried, OK, for you and Elise.’

‘I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to scare you. Honestly, Max. When I woke up and realised what had happened I …’ She pauses. ‘Can I talk to Elise? Please. I need to hear her voice.’

‘Sure.’ He places the phone against his daughter’s ear. ‘Elise, sweetie. It’s Mummy. Say hello.’

He listens as his daughter has a garbled conversation with her mother then he wrangles the phone away from her again.

‘I need to go. There’s a Tesco down the road and I need to grab some overnight things for Elise and some clean clothes for nursery tomorrow.’

‘You could come home. There are clothes here,’ Jo says, but the fight has gone out of her voice. She’s accepted that they won’t be coming home tonight.

‘Sleep well, sweetheart,’ Max says. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow evening.’

‘OK. Bye.’

The line goes dead and Max slumps against the bathroom doorway, completely spent. His daughter, still standing beside him, reaches out her arms to be picked up and he swoops her up. He presses his face into her blonde curls and closes his eyes as her tiny hands wind their way around his neck.