Max came over to the bed too, sat down on the edge of it, and looked at her.
‘What?’ she asked.
‘So first he tries to force you to stay, then he starts trying to get you drunk, and then he was showing you what you were missing?’ said Max. ‘And then . . .’
‘Yeah.’
‘. . . you’re telling me he got confused. Lost it. Like his sister.’
‘That’s right.’
He was silent, watching her face. It was unnerving. Then he said: ‘So what’s with the sheets? And the robe?’
‘What?’
Max flicked a finger at the robe she was holding up to her chin. ‘This. Every time I’ve been in here, you’ve done this. Pulled the sheets – or this damned thing – up like a Victorian virgin, like I haven’t seen everything you’ve got to show about a thousand times before.’
She couldn’t answer that. The only truthful answer was that she was trying to hide the bruises and the strapping from him; she didn’t want or need his sympathy.
‘You were so angry, the first time you came in here,’ she said with a shrug. ‘I just felt . . . defensive, I suppose. Under threat.’
‘But now you don’t?’
‘Not so much, no.’
‘Because you think you’ve softened me up.’
‘I don’t think that.’
‘Yeah, you do. Sitting there with those big innocent eyes.’
‘Max – I am innocent.’
‘Then you’ve got nothing to worry about, have you. So let go of the robe.’
Annie sighed and let the robe go at her throat. Max’s eyes went there and stayed there, on the faint finger-shaped bruises. ‘Shit. Did I do that?’
Annie nodded.
‘Untie it,’ ordered Max.
Annie looked at him in consternation. But what the hell. If she refused, he’d only rip the damned thing off her, she knew it. Slowly, deliberately, she untied the sash on the robe so that it hung loose.
‘Take it off,’ he said.
With a heavy sigh, Annie slipped the robe off her shoulders. She sat there, naked, while his eyes roamed over her.
‘What the fuck’s this?’ asked Max, staring at the strapping around her ribcage and the purple bruises above it.
‘It’s . . .’ Annie started, wondering what the hell she could say. ‘I fell. An accident,’ she said. She didn’t want to go into all this, not now.
Max stared at her face. Then his gaze dipped again to the strapping. He reached out, touched the bruised skin above it.
‘Some fall,’ he said. ‘What’s the damage?’
‘Yeah, it was. It cracked a rib.’
Max stiffened. ‘Holy shit. When I slapped you up against that wall at Mum’s old place, you had this then?’
She nodded again.
‘That must have hurt like a bastard.’
‘It did. But not as much as having you think I’d been fucking around.’
His hand drifted up, cupped her right breast.
‘Max . . .’ she said.
‘Shut up,’ said Max, and his other hand took the left breast, cupped it, rubbed against it. Annie’s nipples sprang erect and a low-level ache of desire started in the pit of her stomach. When the phone began ringing, she could have hurled it across the room. Max stopped what he was doing. After a moment to steady herself, Annie reached out gingerly and picked the damned thing up.
‘Hello?’ she said.
‘I’ve found him,’ said Jackie’s trembling voice. ‘I’m not . . . I don’t . . .’
‘Slow down, Jackie. Take a breath. Tell me where.’
‘Essex way.’
The last time she’d seen Redmond, it had been on the Essex marshes.
‘Give me the address.’ Annie pulled a writing pad and pencil off the table and on to the bed. ‘Go on.’
Jackie sounded breathless, panicky. ‘Here’s the address, it’s . . .’
Jackie spoke quickly and Annie wrote it down. He sounded sober, and the stark terror in his voice alarmed her.
‘Where are you, Jackie? Right now?’
‘I’m in a phone box outside. It’s dark, there’s a wood on one side, it’s out in the sticks. I think . . . I thought I saw something move just now. Over the other side of the road. I’m sure it was him, and he sort of stared over here, and he grinned.’
Annie felt a shudder of unease go straight through her as she pictured Jackie standing there like a sacrificial goat with Redmond Delaney stalking around outside. She clamped down on her own rising anxiety and said clearly: ‘Jackie. Get back in the car. Lock the doors. Get the fuck out of there.’
‘I dunno, maybe I’ll sit it out a bit longer, but I don’t know—’
‘Jackie. Listen to me. Get out of there.’
‘Oh shit. Oh holy fuck.’
‘What?’ Annie’s fingers clenched so hard on the phone that it hurt. Max was watching her, frowning. ‘Jackie, what? What’s happening?’
‘It is him. He’s coming over.’
‘Oh shit,’ said Annie, and Max snatched the phone.
‘Jackie? You heard what she said. Get out of there,’ he said.
Annie was craning her head close to Max’s to hear what was going on. They both heard a sound like a kiosk door being opened – and then a scuffling and a hideous, nerve-prickling noise. Tough-nut Jackie Tulliver was screaming like a wounded baby.
‘Jackie!’ shouted Annie, but there was no answer. The scream died away to a thin cry, and then there was silence except for the steady muted background noise of a car engine running nearby.
‘Jackie?’ said Max into the mouthpiece.
Nothing.